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I tried to remind myself that the gown was shapeless and the fabric was abnormally thick. There was no way he could see anything.
After a few seconds of him watching me, I decided that wasn't the reason he was looking at me that way. There was something about this gown that held significance to him. Whatever the reason, I quickly walked past him as Milo opened the door and gestured for me to step out into the hallway. The last thing I wanted was to be alone in a room with Jonathon when he clearly was even more off kilter than usual.
Milo's friend from campus stood waiting and quickly covered my head with the same, scratchy burlap bag they’d used when they brought me here before I had a chance to look around the building for clues as to where I was. At least this time I was able to quell the panic that rose within me.
I knew I wouldn't be wearing the bag forever. After all they needed Rook to fall for the trap, which meant that he needed to see me, which meant the bag would have to go because he sure as hell wasn't going to recognize me in this outfit, if it could even be called that.
Rough hands, which I assumed belonged to Milo's friend, grabbed my wrists and brought them together before someone else, probably Milo, tied a rope around them. I probably should have been thankful that it was rope and not handcuffs or something like that. I certainly stood a better chance of getting rope off than I did metal cuffs.
One of them guided me through several hallways and finally down a handful of steps. I tripped as the terrain changed to gravel, but the same calloused hands caught me before I hit the ground and, unfortunately, lingered a few seconds too long on my hips. I jerked away from them, stepping forward suddenly and twisting my hips so he couldn't easily catch me again. The menacing laughs of multiple men rang in my ears and I realized I had a much bigger audience than I thought.
This was a show for them, an opportunity to feel me up and joke about me screwing vampires. They already believed I was a whore because of my choice of partner, but clearly it wasn't enough to completely deter them. Not that it meant anything. I wouldn't touch the likes of them with a ten foot pole if I could help it. The whole thing sickened me and I fought the urge to retch.
When someone pushed a hand against the middle of my back I started walking forward once more, hoping that was the right answer to the touch. Why they couldn't just tell me what they wanted was beyond me, but these men weren't exactly fond of talking to someone like me, no matter how much they might leer and touch for longer than necessary.
Finally, I was shoved into the back of a van and the door slammed shut almost before I’d managed to pull my legs inside. A moment later, the engine started and we began to drive. As we did, I tried to keep track of the turns we made in hopes of finding my way back if I ever managed to escape, but it quickly became too difficult and I lost count. We drove for what seemed like hours, but it could have just been minutes. Having my ability to see taken from me was screwing with my other senses, and I felt disoriented and nauseated.
The motion sickness was coming back and since my stomach was already as empty as possible that just meant I was trying not to vomit bile into this hood. Somehow I knew that even if I did get sick they wouldn't take it off me, and then I'd be stuck with my own vomit. Not an appealing idea.
I took slow steady breaths as I tried to keep calm and prevent myself from getting more nauseous at the same time. It wasn't easy, especially when they were throwing the van around corners faster than I would have recommended. Or maybe that was just because I was loose cargo in the back. Cargo that couldn't support herself very well because of her bound hands, which meant that I was rolling around sometimes with no way of stopping myself.
Maybe there was still hope that I could escape. All it would take was one interruption or distraction to give me the few seconds I would need to slip away, unnoticed. Though I'd need to get the hood off somehow first, but I was sure I could manage that if I was left alone for long enough. And if I could see then I would be able to do something about the rope around my wrists since they'd tied my hands in front of me instead of behind me.
Better yet was the idea that Rook and Cross would have an incredible plan to save me. They'd come in and tear these assholes apart as they rescued me, just like Rook had done with Mikhail and Antonio. On the other hand, Rook and Cross might allow their emotions to dictate their actions, resulting in them rushing in unprepared and getting seriously injured, or worse, killed.
The sad part was that one of those options was equally as likely as the other. Which was why I needed to escape first.
21
Cordelia
The van finally came to an abrupt stop and the abrupt change in speed had me falling forward, barely able to catch myself before my face smacked against the hard metal floor. Even then my head knocked against it more than I was comfortable with.
We slowed then lurched forward a little more before coming to a sudden stop, which made me wonder if we were actually at our destination or if we were having car trouble. Either way, my disorientation was so intense it left me unable to comprehend speech for a moment, or maybe my head had hit the floor harder than I'd initially thought. I could hear murmuring but was unable to understand what the hunters were saying to one another.
The door at the back of the van opened and I started to turn toward it but hands handed heavily on my shoulders making me yelp as I was grabbed from behind. No words were exchanged, I was just shoved, rather unceremoniously, out of the sliding van door. I wasn’t used to wearing a floor-length dress so my feet became tangled in the fabric and I tripped. No one bothered trying to catch me and even though I reached forward to try and stop myself from falling, it was too late.
I had fallen beyond the steps that were right outside the van and without being able to see I was just blindly reaching out, hoping I didn't hurt myself when I landed. My body slammed into the ground, which had no give to it. It wasn't soft like grass and it definitely didn't have the same kind of painful give as gravel which made me come to the conclusion that I had landed on a concrete sidewalk or a driveway.
Before I had a moment to recover from the blow to my body and inhale the air that had whooshed out of my lungs, smooth, cool, medically-gloved hands grabbed me and hauled me to my feet. I attempted to gain my footing, but the owner of these hands that were curled into my arms didn't have the patience to wait for me to get my feet under myself.
I was trying to figure out the dress versus shoes situation which was more difficult than it should have been thanks to the fact that they hadn't removed the bag from over my head yet. It didn't help that from what I could tell the sun was setting already. The light filtering through the material over my head had a warm tinge to it, the kind that happens just as the sun starts to dip below the horizon.
Someone joined the impatient man holding me. The two of them essentially pulled me across the sidewalk or whatever it was, my feet and legs flailing behind the rest of my body. They were moving too quickly for me to be able to gain purchase against the ground without also stepping on my dress, so each time I did try to take a step I just ended up tripping and falling once more. If they hadn't been dragging me, and therefore holding on to me, I would have fallen on my face. Again.
The current treatment was worse than any I'd received up to that point. Well, except for Massimo going rogue and sucking me dry. Nothing about this made sense to me. I didn’t know why they wanted me to turn on Rook, what it gained them when he would’ve come looking for me anyway. And even if that was just their tendency to overthink every detail in their quest, there was no reason why they were being so rough with me. I had done everything they'd asked and cooperated fully. So, I wasn't being corrected for bad behavior. But I didn’t have any other explanation, either.
The creak of a door opening had me abandoning all attempts of trying to figure out their reasoning and instead paying attention to exactly where I was being taken. I might not have been able to see, but all my other senses were available to me and I was going to use them as much as I could if it meant having a chance at escaping later.
I was dumped into a chair and a moment later, the bag was yanked from my head and I found myself blinking rapidly in an attempt to adjust to the sudden influx of light. A figure loomed in front of me and I caught the motion of them tossing the bag to the side. Even though the hunter blocked out most of it, the light in the room was still much brighter than what I'd been used to in the place where they'd been keeping me for the last few days or however long it had been.
The hunter grabbed my wrists and quickly removed the rope before securing them to the arms of the chair with bright orange zip ties. This hunter, the one with the latex gloves, was female, which surprised me. She cast a worried glance at Jonathon, who was busy observing the entire process from across the room.
His face was stone cold, expressionless, but he watched the hunter with excited eyes. They sparkled in the overhead light as if he were a child picking out his favorite candy from the grocery store.
"Tighter,” he instructed. Glancing at me he added, “It has to look realistic.” His voice was brittle and I got the unsettling feeling that he was lying to me.
I swallowed thickly and nodded my head, attempting to gain control over my fear before it took over. They were using me as bait. I couldn't panic. Not when there was so much at stake. Above all else I wanted to keep a clear head so I could do whatever was necessary to get myself, and Rook, out of here.
