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As for Eli and my chances of being rescued…
Well, at least I’d left my bags at his condo. My computer. He must have realized that’s all I owned, right? He’d seen my car. I couldn’t quite remember how our conversations had gone when we’d been driving around — when I still thought this case was interesting rather thanterrifying— but I’d chalked that up to exhaustion. Confusion. Whatever the hell they’d done to me since I’d been in here.
The low-level burning at my neck hadn’t escaped my notice, either. The silver binding was very much still present, and I had a feeling that was never going to come off. There was no way this human facility could contain several werewolves at once withoutsomethingto assist them.I’d rather silver to sedatives, anyway. At least I know how to deal with silver.I didn’t want to deal with any medical bullshit as long as I could help it.
I took another deep breath and forced myself to close my eyes, focusing on my breathing for a moment. This wasn’t exactly an oncoming panic attack, but I certainly didn’t need to feed into any anxious thoughts right now. I already had enough stacked against me. What I needed to do was focus on what I did know, and what I could do right now.
First, this is definitely the Project Night Moon facility. Even if this isn’t how I wanted to find it — I’ve found it. And that means I can figure out if Cyn or Ashley are still here.
I gave a small nod, feeling a little bit more secure with that in mind. I still had a job. A focus. I wasn’t totally powerless.
I know they’re holding me with silver, but someone is going to come in here eventually. I can talk to them. I’m good at that — especially with guards. Some basic information will get me a long way. And after that, I can start looking for a pattern in guards, or time, or something else. I’ll get out of here. I will.
ELI
Eli’s Penthouse
Austin, Texas
Igroaned softly as the first tendrils of waking life began to invade my mind. But I wasn’t willing to stir just yet. I shifted my arm, attempting to pull Iris closer — only to realize no one was there.
I forced my eyes open and realized I was looking at the wall, but when I rolled over, no one was in the sheets next to me, either. As I reached out and spread my fingers over the cool Egyptian cotton, I realized she been gone for quite some time. I frowned.
I’ve never been a heavy sleeper — not since I was a kid. How did I not notice her getting out of bed?
Noticing someone walking around inside my bedroom — or hell, even in the hallway — had been an essential part of growing up in Viola and Brock’s house. Sometimes the best defense was simply to play dead — or asleep — and I had quickly become an expert at looking unconscious when I wasn’t. I’d also gotten very good at waking up if so much as a fly sneezed. So why not now?
As I pushed myself up and swung my legs off the mattress, I turned inwards towards my wolf, but he seemed just as puzzled as I was. Outside of actually feeling well-rested, I didn’t notice anything at all. I hadn’t drank too much last night. Sure, it was shifter-grade alcohol, but if I’d had so much to drink that I couldn’t wake up, I’d definitely be feeling the hangover about now.
Confusion — and something else too — swarmed my thoughts. It was as if now that I’d thought of Brock, the vision of my mother and her mate wouldn’t leave me alone. Each thought I cast aside sprouted three more. Even though I’d played dead whenever Brock came into the room, I’dalwayswoken up when it was my mother who opened the door, because if she hadn’t gotten my full attention…it would be so much worse than the dressing-down I’d get for whatever made-up bullshit Brock decided I’d done that weekend.
As soon as my mother got even the tiniest bit mad, Brock would appear as if she’d summoned him, a witch calling up some demon. If I ever argued with her, or fought him, I got tossed outside like a bad dog being taught a lesson. If I dared ignored my mother, Brock dragged me out of bed and locked me in the basement until I “learned to respect my elders.”
Calling it a basement was generous. It might have been a root cellar, once upon a time, but my mother was not a homemaker of any sort, and it had become a cramped, damp crawl space, full of every kind of spider to make its home on the British Isles.
I used to think I’d die in there. I was old enough to understand a person needed oxygen to live, and that oxygen could be limited in small areas — but not quite old enough to figure out exactly how much was available to me.
Time did strange things when I was locked down there. There were no windows. There wasn’t even a crack under the door. I had no way of knowing if it was still the same night, the next day, or the day after. If I had to piss, Brock didn’t want to hear about it. If I made any noise at all, the stay in my personal hell would surely be extended.
I had to sit and wait until Brock decided he was a merciful deity after all, letting me back up from the cellar that was barely more than a pit. But I knew Brock was anything but merciful. I knew he just didn’t want to explain to my father what had happened to me. Why I’d disappeared. My father believed almost every word that came out of my mother’s mouth, but that?
I forced myself to stop following that train of thought, but the memory of the hellacious crawl space made me shudder the entire length of my spine. I brushed my arms off, feeling the ghosts of spiderwebs and insect legs on my bare skin. The sensation was so intense that I wanted to gag.
Focus, Eli. You aren’t anywhere near that place. Hell, you aren’t even in the same country!
Right now, there was an entire ocean and then some between me, Brock, and that stupid root cellar. I wasn’t even sure I’d be that upset if it stayed that way.
I took a deep breath and finally made my way to the bathroom, not wanting to assault Iris with morning breath when I met her in the kitchen. I assumed that’s where she was, anyway. It was still shocking to me that I’d been so relaxed she’d slipped out of bed without me noticing, but if she’d actually left the apartment, I’d definitely have woken up. It felt good to be around her.
It feltreallygood to be around her, actually. I was pretty sure I hadn’t felt this rested in…maybe ever, even if I’d taken a sleeping pill or two before. It wasn’t just the sex. I’d had good sex before — I’d had good sex with other shifters before — but Iris was so much more than that. I couldn’t put it into words.
By the time I left the bathroom, got dressed, and headed down the hallway, I was pretty sure I was wearing a silly grin, but that was far better than a shudder and scowl. “Iris?” I called, stepping into the kitchen. It was empty.
I frowned and headed to the balcony, opening the door and poking my head out. “Iris?”
She wasn’t outside, either. My penthouse was big, but it wasn’tthatbig.
“Iris?” I called again, my heart threatening to crawl into my throat. I hurried to the guest bathroom, suddenly worried that maybe she’d gone for a shower and slipped and fallen, but…nothing. Her bag was still there. So was her computer. But Iris herself was nowhere to be seen, and when I tried to scent for her, I couldn’t pick up anything new.
