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ChapterThirty
SUNDAY
My breath came in thready gasps as I tried to draw in air through the thick black hood tied over my head. By the sounds of Moira struggling beside me and the steady stream of creative insults she hurled at our assailants, I could tell her head was also covered. But she was alive, and knowing that gave me hope. If we were together, we could get out of this.
The van we’d been shoved into before they blinded us came to a rough stop, and I jerked forward, unable to catch myself since my hands were bound behind my back. The silver cuffs burned every time they rubbed against the tender skin of my wrists. I collided with something cool and flat, my head throbbing at the bone-jarring impact. Shit, I was going to have a bruise.
Whoever was driving cut the engine, and the vehicle jostled before two doors slammed shut. This might be our only chance to speak without being overheard. I blinked away the pain and whispered urgently, “Can you get any sense of where we are?”
“No. Whatever they put on my hands is keeping my magic contained. Fucking asshole hunters.”
“Fuck, mine too. We’re going to have to brute squad this, then.”
“You’re on the brute squad?”
“Iamthe brute squad.”
“Since when?”
“Just follow my lead, okay?”
“What lead? I can’t see a damn thing. How am I supposed to follow you?”
“Moira—” but there wasn’t time for anything further. Cool air rushed over my skin as our captors threw open the sliding door.
“Lookie what we got here, a bitch and a witch.” The man’s deep cockney accented voice covered me like a layer of dirty oil. “I just wanted one, but you brought me two.”
“Touch me, and I’ll bite it off, I swear,” Moira growled.
I inwardly groaned.So much for following my lead.
“Oh, I like ‘em feisty. This is going to be more fun than I thought.”
Rustling sounded to my left, like clothes and skin brushing against each other. There was a soft grunt followed by the unmistakable sound of a boot meeting bone.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” he snarled.
“No, I’m the witch, remember?” Moira said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
“Take them inside and lock the door. I don’t want to see them until it’s time to torture the information we need out of ‘em. I’m gonna enjoy this one.”
“You always enjoy the torture part, boss.” A male voice came from somewhere to my left.
“True, but this is going to be sweeter. I got dibs on the witch.”
A hand grasped me hard about the arm, pulling me unceremoniously out of the van. I stumbled as I tried to catch my balance, tripping over my feet as I was pulled forward. Part of me was shouting to fight, to break free, but attempting to fight while blinded, with my hands bound, was hardly ideal. And there was Moira to think about. I couldn’t just leave her here. We were going to need to wait until their guard was down.
Still, I made a show of resisting, trying to tug out of the man’s grasp. Pain exploded from the side of my face as his free hand cracked across my cheek. I tasted the copper tang of blood in my mouth where my lip had split.
“You don’t want to do that, love.”
“Touch me again, and I’ll tear your balls out through your mouth,” I snarled.
He laughed. “And how you gonna do that without your hands, dearie? If you think I’m afraid of some wolf bitch who can’t even shift, you got another think coming. I've taken shits bigger than you.”
A fist connected with my stomach, doubling me over and making me gag as the wind was knocked out of me. My wolf clawed inside her cage, desperate to break free and lay waste to them, but even if Icouldshift, the silver binding me would keep that from happening.
Forcing myself to calm the useless rage inside me, I put into practice what I’d worked on with Alek and Kingston. I needed to be controlled, strategic, and beat these fuckers at their own game. I let my shoulders slump, feigning defeat and willing them to believe I’d given up fighting. With each step we took, I trained my focus on keeping count—twelve steps, right turn, seven steps, left turn, twenty steps, right turn, and then we were inside a cold, dank space.
