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Right. My plan . . .
I took a quick sweep of the room. Early morning light peeked underneath the edges of the window’s curtains. I peeked over the edge of the bed, surprised to find Ansel gone. It should make me feel relieved, knowing he’s gone, but it only made me nervous. It was like swimming out in the middle of the ocean, unaware of the creatures that lurked in the dark water below.
My eyes returned to the window. Without thinking, I pushed myself off the bed, ready to pull back the curtains—
The door on the other side of the room jiggled and I whirled on my heels, the curtains slipping out of my fingers, just as the elf—Liam, I think—stepped inside, holding a breakfast tray.
He regarded me with the same hostility as he did last night in the van. Why was everyone acting like I was putting them out for being here? They kidnapped me.
“You’re awake,” he said, matter-of-fact. In the daylight, I could see him more clearly. He had bone-white hair and severe features.
Though it had been centuries since our country was ruled by elven royalty, Liam had the looks and air of an aristocrat. And the pompous attitude as well. “Ansel made you breakfast,” he said after a while, setting the tray down on the dresser and giving me a once-over. Not impressed in the least by what he saw.
I stared at him with raised eyebrows. What was he expecting, a thank you?
“Oh,” he said, interrupting the awkward pause. “He told me to do this.” He picked up a spoonful of cereal and brought it to his mouth. “Ugh. Too sugary,” he said to himself, and turned to face me. He motioned to his body. “See? I’m fine. No drugs or poison in the food.”
“What are you doing here?”
He looked at me like I was crazy. “Bringing you food,” he said slowly.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” I insisted. Elves, more so than any other species, kept to their own kind, a hold over from the days when they literally sat above the rest of us, fae included, on gilded thrones. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that an elf was willingly working with orcs, much less working for an orc, and then a thought occurred to me.. I leaned in conspiratorially. “Are they holding you captive too? Because we can work together to escape.”
He took a step backwards, scrunching his nose like he had stepped in front of an open sewer. “What? No. Ansel is my—” he stopped himself, looking angry. “Shut up and eat your food, faerie.”
It was belittling to call a fae a faerie, and Liam knew that. Either he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, or he was just an asshole. And considering how friendly he’d been the moment Ansel threw me into the van, I’m inclined to believe he’s just not a nice person.Honey, not vinegar,I reminded myself, ignoring the urge to throw the bowl of cereal in his face. “Thank you . . . for bringing this,” I bit out.
He regarded me coldly. “Don’t thank me. Ansel made me do it.”
I grabbed the bowl of cereal and sat on the edge of the bed. The cheerios were soggy but tasted so fucking good. “Where is Ansel? Why couldn’t he bring it himself?”
“He’s out.”
Kidnapping more women?“Oh . . .” Liam stood there for a moment, obviously sizing me up like I was some kind of threat. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, which I realized was firm and muscular. So were his biceps. He was still a shrimp compared to Ansel, and Liam’s physique was leaner and less obvious, but he was still bigger than any elf I’d ever met. Which, honestly, wasn’t hard—elves were vain, especially the men. They valued things like a tight waistline, expensive clothes, and anything that denoted wealth. Elves would rather die than be caught lifting anything heavier than five pounds in the gym. It was considered barbaric in their culture. “Your name is Liam, right? My name is Skye.” I offered him a smile. He glared at me, his frown not budging. Not even a little. “Uh, so do you like working for Ansel? Is he a good boss?”
“I’m not here to answer questions,” he said flatly. “So, unless there is anything else you need, I’d like to go. I have work to do.”
My mind raced to find another question. Another reason to keep him here a little longer. Though I’d rather get a cavity filled by a dentist with unsteady hands than spend another moment alone with this grump, I was afraid to be left alone since I was unaware of where I was, or what was going to happen next. But Liam headed out the door, slamming it behind him, without giving me time to respond. I held my breath, waiting for the dreadful sound of Liam locking the door, but it never came.
I didn’t waste time wondering why he hadn’t locked the door. Time was critical, and I needed to act fast. When the sound of his footsteps disappeared, I stood and rushed to the window, yanking open the curtains. My heart plummeted deep into my stomach when I realized there were burglar bars directly outside the window.
Who the fuck puts bars on a window two stories up?!Someone who doesn’t want their prisoner escaping, that’s who.
I opened the window and grabbed the bars, grunting as I rattled the metal. I half-hoped they were old and rusty, and I would somehow pull them off myself, but no luck—they were screwed so tightly into the wall I doubt even Ansel could pull them off.
I scanned the area below, noting the fire escape outside just below the window. It would be fucking perfect if metal bars weren’t blocking my way to freedom. Plus, blocking the fire escape? That was such a big safety violation. This building is definitely not up to code, I thought as I studied the area below. We were sandwiched between another red-bricked factory, over an empty alley. The buildings looked similar to the empty warehouses I had seen last night, but I could still be in downtown or I could be in a completely different area. It was hard to tell, especially because I had been knocked out for several hours.
Despite not knowing where I was, I knew at least I was still in a ghost town because there was no sign or sound of life anywhere. No people. No cars. Not even a stray alley cat rummaging through the garbage. Wherever Ansel had taken me, it was the perfect place to hide. The bars were screwed directly into the wall outside, and wide enough apart that I could fit my head through, but not my shoulders. I leaned my head against the cold, metal bars as panic threatened to overpower me. I wanted to scream, even knowing no one would hear me. I just need a physical release. But I kept my lips sealed, afraid Liam or Demie might hear me. I breathed slowly, in through my nose and out through my pursed lips as I counted to four in my head, just as my therapist taught me. The brisk morning air helped ground me too. When I opened my eyes, I noticed the bars were secured into the walls with screws. I checked in all directions—six screws, actually. If only I had a screwdriver—
Ok. Maybe I did have a plan after all. It wasn’t the greatest, but it was better than nothing.
I closed the window and pulled back the curtains to their original position. I sat on the bed, waiting. For what? I wasn’t sure. For Liam to pick up the empty breakfast tray. For Ansel to return from whatever the hell he was doing. The waiting was almost as torturous as the unknown. I had never been the type to sit at home twiddling my thumbs. Especially after Carter broke up with me, free time was the enemy. It was hard to be sad when you were constantly doing something. I waited another ten minutes before I decided to go explore.
I opened the door to the bedroom, confirming that we were hiding in an abandoned warehouse, just like I had suspected. It was a huge empty space, and I could almost see the ground floor perfectly from my spot on the landing. There was a makeshift kitchenette, a folding table with metal chairs, and a loveseat in front of a TV. A soft clink-clink-clink of metal caught my attention, and I moved my head to the left, spotting Liam laying with his back on a weight bench as he lifted a metal bar stacked with weights.
This was the work he needed to do? What a meathead. The worst kind of asshole.
Demie walked into view, holding a bowl of cereal between his hands as he made his way to the couch. He plopped onto the cushions without any milk sloshing over.
