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“Like earthquakes and stuff?”
Looking over at him, I nod. “Anything?”
He frowns, scratching his chin as he thinks. I confess, I’m holding my breath waiting for anything that might help me find Mercy.
“Sorry, dude. I don’t know about anything like that.” He crinkles his forehead looking up at the sky. “We’d better head on back. It’s starting to get dark.”
Fighting the ear-splitting roar of frustration burning in my mind, I turn the key and head us back to Doris’s house and my apartment. We’re just pulling into the driveway when Jim suddenly blurts.
“Sally has a friend who studies tectonics at the university. If you want, I can ask her if he knows of anything.” His face falls. “It wouldn’t be until tomorrow, though.”
Breath whooshes in my lungs. I almost grab him in a hug. “Just see what you can find out. I need you to do this for me, okay? It’s important.”
Jim nods, and when he looks at me, I know he thinks I’m losing it.
* * *
Mercy
My eyes open, and I’m in a large, shadowy room. The walls are covered in black embossed wallpaper, and the furnishings are black wood with deep purple fabric. The ceiling is impossibly tall, and every arch meets in a sinister point.
Jagged edges and twisting spires like ominous stalactites are everywhere I look. It reminds me of the medieval gothic art I used to study when I was a little girl alone in Hayden’s mansion. I would look at the pictures wondering who would live in such a place when all I dreamed of was golden sparkling waters and soft beaches.
Now I know.
Enormous windows hide behind black velvet curtains, but even if they were opened, no light would filter in. The sky is grey but not cloudy. There’s simply no sun here.
Slipping from the bed, I look down to see I’m wearing a long, filmy white gown. I don’t remember putting it on. The last thing I remember is opening my eyes in the courtyard of this stone castle and crying. Looking up to see my beautiful sun-kissed world replaced by this shadowy underground.
I’m Thumbelina taken by the mole. Sunlight and warmth are a distant memory, and my only hope of freedom would be a dead bird, frozen with its heart still beating. The old story pushes a bubble of despair higher in my chest until I exhale a gasped cry. “Will it always be like this?”
I look around the shadowy corners of my room, the black and purple corridors that now compose my home. For a moment, I think of Penny and her fear of shadows. How long will this be my life? If only I were a mortal, I could count on fifty, sixty more years in this prison. As a shifter it could be more than a hundred.
Dropping my head into my hands I fight the tears. I’m on the verge of despair when I hear a loud noise at what I presume is my door. I can’t see it hidden in the gloom. Another loud rap, and I speak.
“Come in?” It’s a question because I’m not sure if I have the right to forbid whomever is knocking at my door.
Is Hayden allowed to do whatever he wants with me? Am I allowed to deny him entrance? Will his minions torment me?
A low creak precedes his appearance, but he’s so transformed, I almost don’t recognize him. Only his eyes are the same and the sound of his voice.
“I hope you’re settling in.” He pauses at the dresser.
His usual tailored suit is replaced with what looks like armored black leather, tight on his tall, slim frame. A girder is at his waist, and a black cape flows from his shoulders. On his head is a crown that appears to be made of bone, and his fair hair is now long down his back. He’s stunning as Lord of the Underworld. The only problem is he isn’t my gorgeous panther.
“Sleep well?” he says. “That gown is lovely on you.”
Clearing my throat, I answer. “I don’t remember anything after you brought me here. I guess I slept well. Or I was drugged.”
Long fingers clasp at the cape swirling around his slim hips, and his nails are now pointed, long and black. “You were not drugged. I’m sure the stress of the day fatigued you.”
My lip catches between my teeth. “Hayden…” His name is a broken whisper on my lips. It causes him to perk up.
“Yes, my love? Is there something you want?” He takes a few steps toward me. “You can have anything.”
Breath hiccups in my throat. My stomach hurts, and my hand flies to cover my mouth. For a moment, I close my eyes and inhale, exhale… get control. He’s unmoved by my response.
When I feel I’m finally able, I speak. “It’s not nice to be disingenuous.”
