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However, the room was nice, if not modest, and sparsely furnished with upscale modern furnishings in a wood so dark it was nearly black. It contained only a leather couch across the far wall, the bed, and a long dresser, over which hung a simple mirror, sans frame. There were two doors—one on the wall with the couch, and one on the wall with the dresser. The walls were a sterile, cold concrete block, painted white; the floors a simple marble tile, a dark black that matched the furniture. Easy to clean the blood off, I supposed.
There were no windows. But even beyond that, there were also no pictures, no lamps, nothing I could pull from the wall or a table and use as a weapon.
My eyes narrowed as I considered my options.
There had to be something, somewhere, that I could use. Maybe the mirror? I could shatter it, and use the shards.
Then, my curiosity finally got the better of me and I hauled myself to my feet to check out the doors. The floors were chilly under my bare feet, which made me realize all at once that my shoes were missing. I spared a quick glance around, knowing that I wouldn’t find them but checking anyway.
I assumed the goon squad removed them before putting me in the room.
A wry smile twisted my lips at the thought of the big, bad vamps being scared of wittle ol’ me and my Louboutins, even as chills raced down my spine at the thought of being so helpless and vulnerable before them that they could unsnap and remove my heels without me noticing. I forced the feeling away in that it was useless as I made my way to the door.
The first door I tried was the one on the opposite side of the room. The handle turned slightly under my grasp, jiggling with the force I exerted, but it was definitely locked. It was metal and heavy duty, almost like what would be used for a storage room in a warehouse. I thought about pounding my fists on the door, demanding to be let out, but knew how unlikely that scenario was so I didn’t waste any energy on such a useless pursuit.
Instead, I meandered over to the second door, still moving slowly and using the bed frame, then the dresser, to maintain my balance when my vision went topsy-turvy and I wobbled on my feet. When I touched the knob, cool and hard against my palm, I was surprised when this handle turned and clicked open.
The door opened into a small, utilitarian-style bathroom. The lights came on automatically, which I assumed meant they were motion activated. White subway tile surrounded the walls and marched down to the matching floors. A standing shower with a glass door took up one whole wall. There was a pedestal sink with a small oval mirror perched above it, and two recessed lights like neon headlights shining down from the ceiling. The only items in the bathroom were two plain, unlabeled bottles in the shower and a toothbrush sitting in a plastic cup on the sink.
Under the harsh fluorescent lights, I looked like death warmed over.
I leaned over the sink to get closer to the mirror, really taking in my reflection. The gash on my temple was a few inches long and likely needed stitches. A sizable knot had formed under and around it, currently an angry red that would likely blossom to an ugly purple. Blood was matted in my stringy hair. Streaks of it trailed down my face and puddled on my cheek and chin, likely where I’d been laying face-down on the leather seats in the SUV.
The hit I’d taken to the temple had been close enough to my orbital socket that capillaries had burst in my eye. My under eye was turning a nasty shade of purple and the eyelid was beginning to swell.
My eyes trailed farther down my body.
One of my dress straps was nearly ripped in half, leaving a good portion of my nude bra on display. Grimacing, I grasped the fraying thread and finished the job, pulling it apart before doing the same to the second strap. Then, I tied the two straps around my neck like a halter top to give myself more coverage. The fit was awkward, but it was better than having my tits on display.
I reached down and grabbed the torn hem of my long dress. Ripping the dress was a more difficult process than ripping through the straps had been. It was a thick material, and I was attempting to tear against the weave of the fabric, but after numerous attempts, I was finally able to get the hem short enough that I would be able to move more comfortably when the time came to fight for my life.
As sure as I was that my father would send his armies after me, I was also determined to escape on my own.
Eoin only set his sights on me because I walked into his lair, a dumb rabbit hopping into the fox’s den and not seeing the sharp fangs wrapped around my neck until it was too late.
Under the dried streaks of blood, I could just make out the healing bite marks Eoin had left me with.
Rage, cultivated by fear, coursed through me as my hands fisted at my sides.
Just as I was brewing up another course of righteous anger, I heard the slight woosh of a door opening. My whole being froze as every inch of me focused on listening.
My heart stuttered before pounding to life. I snatched the toothbrush from the plastic cup before sliding behind the half-opened door.
It wasn’t the best place for a guerrilla attack, but it was all I had and it would have to do for now. My breaths were panting out of me, so I slammed a palm over my mouth, trying my damnedest to silence them as I gripped my makeshift weapon in my damp palm.
I focused on slowing my breathing as I lay in wait for the person slipping through the room toward me.
Eoin
Chapter Four
The room was empty when I swung the door open. My eyes flicked between the space with growing suspicion that my little minx was playing games. I knew she was in the room—I could smell her.I could hear her. A smile pulled at my lips, my nostrils flaring as I breathed in deep and savored the taste of the amber and champaca that was unique to only her as it wet my tongue. Each light tap of my foot on the dark, tiled marble floors caused the pitter-patter of her heart to spike.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
I knew from our first interaction that Ottavia La Rosa was a force to be reckoned with and I moved slowly through the space, watching for any sign of her. The room had been proofed before she had been placed inside of it, but I still had the warring suspicion that such a thing wouldn’t stop the woman from trying to maim me.
A quality I found quite endearing.
