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EMILY
Itook my time in the shower, letting the hot water burn the anxiety and pain away. Was this my life now? Constant danger around every corner, the threat of being kidnapped or beaten for who I am. As the water pummeled against my back, the memories reemerged one by one.
When the water turned cold I stepped out and wrapped a luxurious black towel around my body. It smelled like Griffin, and I ignored the urge to sink my face into the material and breathe in deeply. Thinking about Griffin made me angry. I thought we had started to get along, or that he was slowly starting to warm up to me on our way back from New Orleans, but clearly from his conversation with Morgan, I was wrong. I didn’t expect to be friends or lovers, but the night he lay by me and the way he spoke to me had changed things I thought. His face flashed in my mind as he carried me from the cabin—his arms holding me as if I weighed nothing—and I was sure he looked concerned, carrying …
“Ugh, get over it. Thinking about boys in a time like this… ridiculous, Em!” I muttered to myself while pulling on a pair of black tights with a thick, oversized sweater. I shoved my feet into a pair of knee high wool socks and tied my damp hair into a messy bun on top of my head.
When I opened the door, Cassian and Griffin stood up. Griffin sat again, and Morgan wore her usual uninterested look. She was just as confusing; one minute she was snapping poison at me, and the next she was friendly and caring. The only person who remained consistent was Cassian. The only change was the shift from friends to whatever this was—the verge of something more. Far too many emotions to work through, it’s exhausting. I pulled myself together and decided to focus on the bigger issues at hand.
“I’m guessing you want to know what happened, if I learned anything important.” I sighed.
Cassian pulled a chair out for me at the big oak dining table. Even the dining chairs were comfortable. “Only if you’re ready. You’ve been through a lot, Em, you don’t need to push yourself.”
I sat down and picked at my nails, trying to sort through the jumble of memories and things that I’d overheard. “I can’t remember everything—I was in and out of consciousness—but I’ll start at the beginning.”
Cassian put his hand over mine, the warmth steadied me. “I was walking back to my dorm after splitting up with you two. Someone came up behind me, and before I could do anything, he put a cloth over my mouth and nose, and everything went black. I don’t remember how we got to the camp or much in between, but the night that Griffin found me, I woke up and couldn’t move. My arms and legs were tied to a chair, and I had a gag in my mouth.” I stilled at the memory.
“Why didn’t you burn the ropes or something?” Morgan asked, her tone was caring but there was a hint of impatience.
“I tried, but my powers were locked up, like they were behind bars in my mind.” I remembered reaching for my fire and seeing it deep in my mind, a prisoner just like I was. “I have no idea why, but I couldn’t use them. They mentioned using something to block them. Come to think of it, it did smell strange in there, like lavender but sweet too.”
Cassian’s brows knitted, I could see his mind working through the possibilities of what it could be. “Did they hint at anything in the room that was burning?”
I shook my head. “No. Anyway, I don’t know how useful my powers would have been, I haven’t had much practice.”
“Morgan can help with that. We can’t have you unable to defend yourself.” Griffin paused and looked at the glare Morgan gave him. “Saving you was a distraction from the plan. It will help us if you can take care of yourself, Princess.”
I ignored him and continued. “I struggled with the rope for a while, and then I heard two men at the door. They were talking about me and the first man, Victor, I think was his name, the other one was Kellan.” Griffin bristled at the names. “Victor was reprimanding Kellan, said he should have taken you when he had the chance. He sounded angry. Kellan knew about the fire at NYU and assumed I was responsible.. That’s how he convinced Victor not to have me killed.”
“Were there others?” Cassian asked softly.
“No. Kellan made an effort to sneak me in, and Victor told him to make sure no one hears when he… well.” I pointed at the bruises. “They mentioned Samara, they were trying to get on her good side, and Kellan wanted to use me as a bargaining chip.”
They all sat straighter, Morgan tapped her fingers on the table, but no one said anything. “Kellan is under the impression that because the burst was felt so far away, I must be valuable. They don’t know about the bloodline or my connection to her, but he suggested offering me up in exchange for keeping them on the winning side when the war comes.”
“So they’ve been working with Samara? Did they say what they’ve been doing?” Griffin asked quietly.
I shook my head again. “No, just that they were useful until the errands ran out.” I could remember the worry in their hushed tones. If a pack like theirs was fearful of Samara, that meant that her reputation held. Even from hiding, she was able to create fear. “Victor told Kellan to send someone named Gray to deliver the offer to her. Apparently she doesn’t use a phone, so that could possibly mean that she isn’t that far away.”
“That’s just an assumption though. Were the feral wolves mentioned?” Cassian asked, he looked deep in thought.
“Nothing about them, but it must be connected. They probably know about them, where they could be, where Samara is hiding.”
“Who did that to your face?” Anger flashed in Cassian’s eyes.
“Kellan. He came into the cabin after the conversation. Asked me about Griffin and our relationship. He wanted to know more about me, too, and why I was with you.” I looked at Griffin. “When I refused and called him a coward, he lost his temper and hit me.”
Griffin scoffed disgustedly and Morgan threw him another look before looking at me again. “That explains the face, what about the other bruises?” She asked while looking at my arms as if she could see through my sweater.
“I’d been there almost a week. I don’t remember anything before that night, but Kellan said I woke up sometime after he tied me up and put up a fight. Clearly he has no problem using fists on women. Seemed like he enjoyed it.” I clenched my hands in my lap. He must have beat me up more than once. The bruises were all over my body—my ribs, back, and thighs.
“Did he… do anything else?” Cassian asked hesitantly. I had feared the same thing in the shower, but nothing hurt down there, so I could only hope that he didn’t.
“No, they do terrible things, but that is forbidden.” Griffin looked at me briefly. “You’re lucky they wanted you alive. Others aren’t that lucky.”
Cassian looked at Griffin, eyes wide. “Others? Kidnapping or hurting innocents is illegal, never mind killing! Is this shit normal for them? How have they not been caught?”
Griffin shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “Pups are raised in the lifestyle. The pack enjoys torture for sport. They started with witches to take revenge on Samara’s curse, and I guess they grew to like it. Now, they take outcasts or homeless, the ones who won't be missed. No one leaves the pack and lives, that’s why they’re so hard up on finding me.”
