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"Did you really think I wouldn't have a backup plan?"
The sound of Sefton's voice right behind me raises every hair on my body.
He lashes his arms around my midsection with his hands over my navel, pinning my arms to my sides. His lips scrape against my ear as he hisses, "You are mine."
Everything Dax had taught me, all the hours I spent practicing with him, suddenly comes crashing through my mind, and I know what I need to do. I lock my hands together, slant forward, and twist sideways to slam my elbow into his throat, then twist the other way to hit him again. His grip falters. I don't need to do the rest of the moves Dax had shown me. I shove away from Sefton and dash through a gap between two of the creatures. Before anyone has time to react, I'm pelting across the lawn toward the woods, crashing through bushes, mere feet from the cover of the trees.
A figure leaps out in front of me, catching me in mid stride and hoisting me off my feet. Powerful, scaly arms bind my body to the creature's.
My face is mashed to the beast's throat while my feet dangle above the ground. I can't get any leverage. This wasn't one of the moves Dax taught me, and this creature is way stronger than any human being. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the person hobbling toward us now.
Sefton stops inches away. His horde of fiends gathers behind him.
For a moment, he just stands there, his hands trembling and his breathing uneven, until he recovers his composure. Then he traces the backs of his fingers over my cheek. "Why did you do that? Fighting me is useless, and now I'll have to punish you."
"I will never stop fighting, you sick son of a bitch."
"You lied to me, pet." He slants in, our chins almost touching. "You will regret this."
He takes a step back, waving his hand in my face.
And darkness consumes me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dax
Am I dead? Since I've never died before, I can't tell if that's what happened to me. I can't move and don't feel or hear anything. As my senses gradually rouse, I detect a solid surface beneath me and feel warmth on my face. The sun? Not sure. My muscles still refuse to function, and my brain seems to be having trouble revving up again. Soon, though, I begin to detect sounds—birds chirping, wind rustling, my heart beating.
Not dead after all.
Something nudges my leg. "Are you in a coma?"
That voice. I've heard it before. Peeling my lids apart, which requires an enormous effort, I squint at Willow. "Does it look like I'm in a coma?"
She hugs herself, hunching her shoulders. "Sorry. Glad you're not dead."
"As am I."
"What happened? Where's Allison?"
"Back at Fallenmouth, I assume. That's the house we were in before…" Before my lunatic brother hurled us to somewhere else.
Willow nods. "I remember the house. Allison will be okay there, right?"
"She knows how to take care of herself."
But I have no idea what Sefton might do to her.
I lever myself into a sitting position, my legs stretched out, and take a look at my body. I am no longer naked. Sefton apparently saw fit to clothe me when he discarded me like a broken toy. I'm wearing my old clothes, the things I'd had on when I was thrown out of the Echo. The warmth of the air and the sun make me start to sweat, thanks to my leather coat.
Why did Sefton clothe me? He sacrificed some of his precious power to make sure I was no longer naked.He did it because he's crackers, you moron.And of course, he did not send me here with my knife, the one I keep hidden inside my coat.
I clamber to my feet and brush grass and dirt off my clothes.
"Where are we?" Willow asks.
"Not a bloody clue."
