AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“My apologies, Senator. I did not know. This was my fault. Forgive me. Forgive me.”
For a second, Kerrigan almost felt bad for Flavia.
But she could never feel for the person who intended her for a man like this. For a person who sold human beings.
Finally, Tarcus nodded. “Fine. You are forgiven.” Flavia made to stand, but he held his hand out. “No. Stay down there. I prefer you where you belong.”
Flavia swallowed and looked near to tears—or perhaps she was plotting vengeance. Kerrigan hadn’t moved during the interaction. She didn’t want to draw his attention back to her. But she was the reason he was here, and finally, he met her gaze again.
“Well, little stallion, I will have to think on you. I don’t sully myself with those who have been tasted before,” he said, running a thumb across her bottom lip.
Her face heated with anger as she fought back the desire to bite him. But he might like that, and he clearly had more magic than Flavia.
“You are a beauty though. I will speak with my father and my wife and make a decision tomorrow.”
He glanced down at Flavia. “You will hear from me by midday.”
“Yes, Senator Tarcus,” she said, bowing until her forehead hit the ground.
He smiled at her obsequious behavior. His due, as he saw it. Then, he turned and walked from the room.
The other men followed him. No one would dare to put an offer in on her when Tarcus was interested. That was clear.
She was more determined than ever that her plan had to work tonight. She’d never escape Tarcus. She knew that for a fact.
5
The Escape
Tonight or nothing.
Kerrigan had things to do and people to find. Her magic might be gone, but her will to survive was as strong as ever. She refused to jeopardize her life another moment.
That night she went through the steps like everything was normal. Flavia was in a mood. Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t pleased with Tarcus’s treatment of her. Not that it would stop her from taking his money. Kerrigan ate her dinner in silence. Went through her routine baths and was escorted up to her room early. Felix stood at the door.
“Good night,” she whispered as she slipped through the doorway.
“Felicity,” he said softly.
She faced him. “Yes?”
He opened his mouth as if he were going to impart some sage advice to her. As if he, too, could understand the predicament she stood in. How long had he been working for Flavia for him to have lost his compassion for other enslaved? Or had it been beaten out of him long before that?
He just closed his mouth and nodded his head once. “Good night.”
Kerrigan said nothing else. Just closed the door behind her to wait out the night. At some point, Felix had to sleep. Flavia had another man to watch her room, but he wasn’t as observant as Felix. She’d heard his faint snores from the other side of the door once or twice when he couldn’t stay awake the whole night.
She waited until those snores carried into her room again. Then, she threw the covers off of her legs, retrieved the knife she’d carried back with her at dinner, and headed to her second story window. She wedged the dinner knife under the panel of the window. At first, the knife stuck into the soft wood. She yanked it back out and then jammed it back between the two panels. She used her all her strength to leverage downward, trying to force the window open even a finger’s width. The window screeched as it moved upward by millimeters.
Kerrigan winced, jerking to a stop and listening for her jailor to wake and investigate the noise. She held her breath, counting backward from a hundred until she was sure no one would come rushing in. When the coast was clear, she blew out a breath and returned to her work. Minute by ticking minute, she worked the knife back and forth across the bottom of the window. The frame had been painted over at some point so that it physically wouldn’t open. But with enough strength and fortitude, which were things she had in spades, she could do it. It was the patience that she had in the least supply.
Between one heavy breath and the next, the window gave way with a hiss. Kerrigan nearly gasped with relief as she felt the humid air blow into her room by the half-foot hole she’d created. She slipped her hand onto the sill and used her shoulder to raise the window the rest of the way. The paint gave way, and it slid up without resistance.
She stuck her head out the window and to the darkened street below. There were no people out in Eivreen that night. Late enough that even candles weren’t burning in sconces. Good.
