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“We needed a fourth anyway.”
“No, we needed water anyway,” the first man responded, sounding a little condescending, but it was hard to tell without opening her eyes. For all she knew, the two men were sitting side by side, putting this all on for her.
“And she’s water?” The man snorted. Actually snorted. She didn’t think she’d heard anyone do that since she was a child at the palace. Bruce had received the scolding of a result of it. Apparently, it wasn’t seemly for a Prince to act that way. If anyone asked Macey, she’d tell them it was antiquated and stupid. Unfortunately, no one ever actually asked her.
“She might be,” the second man, Camdan, replied.
“I think I’d have recognised my opposite, don’t you think? You knew when you met Jared, didn’t you?” Silence stretched on after the first man’s words, and an itch on Macey’s thigh was making it impossible for her to stay still. Which was a shame, their conversation was more than a little intriguing and she wanted to know what they were on about. Probably not the most rational response to being kidnapped, sure, but it was the one her brain was apparently going with.
“Maybe not if...”
“Stop. She can’t be water, that means...”
“That it’s all true. Yes.” Camdan said the words quietly.
“Believe what
you will. I’m finding Jared.” A shuffle and a slammed door after his words must have meant he’d left the room, leaving her alone with just Camdan, the man who’d taken her. That should have filled her with more dread than it did.
“I know you’re awake,” he said, and Macey gave up the pretence of sleeping, opening her eyes and finding herself staring into the same misty grey ones that she’d seen before blacking out.
“You,” she croaked, her hand flying to her throat. Why was she struggling to speak? She really shouldn’t be.
“Yes, me. Sorry about that, you were a little out of it.” He chuckled.
“Out of what?” She pushed herself up so that she was sitting, allowing her to study the man more fully. Was he the same figure she’d seen approaching in the mists? That didn’t seem right. He had the same grey eyes she’d seen, sure, but he was far more solid than the mist-man. Far, far more solid. In fact, he was verging on drool-worthy, with wide rugby player shoulders, and pale hair that was an odd colour between white and grey. Actually, it kind of matched his eyes.
“Consciousness? You fainted.”
“I did? I don’t faint.” At least, she didn’t think she did. She’d never done it before. “No, something hit me, I think.”
“Sorry to break it to you, but you fainted.”
“Fine,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, not quite convinced, but her memory was all fuzzy. Camdan’s eyes flickered down briefly before returning to her face, and heat rose in her cheeks. That wasn’t a reaction she was used to. Normally when men checked her out, it filled her with a slight sense of unease. “So, where am I?”
“A safe place.”
Well, that was informative of him. “Who are you?” she tried a different question, hoping he’d be more forthcoming on this subject. Though if he knew she’d been awake the entire time, then he should know she was already aware of his name.
“Camdan,” he answered anyway.
“Camdan,” she tested the name out. “Anything else?”
“No, just Camdan. Some people call me Cam though.” He shrugged, as if it was of little importance.
“Who are you, Cam?”
“Just a man,” he replied. Damn, he was an infuriating one. “Ignore Flint, his temper runs a bit hot.” He chuckled to himself.
“Going to let me in on the joke?” she asked, growing more irate by the second.
“Not yet, no,” he replied.
“Well, then I’d quite like to leave,” she said, getting up from the bed she was lying on and shooting Cam a challenging look. She was not going to show how insecure she felt.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible.”
She huffed, anger bubbling up in her. “And why is that? Am I your prisoner?”
