I stood and strode over to my bars, clinging to them for a moment before my hands hissed and my skin burned. Iron. Of course. A snarl curled my upper lip as I peered up the dark tunnel beyond. The walls of the tunnel were made of dirt. A single lightbulb propped up on the floor attached to a long yellow extension cord, was the only light in the space.
"Where are you shifter assholes?" I whispered in frustration.
My gaze darted around the prison I was in, trying to figure a way out. Much like a typical jail cell, it was a box surrounded on all sides by thick concrete, with tall iron bars making up the front wall. The iron was unfortunate, but unsurprising. The concrete, however, was a welcome error on their part—I could melt that easily without messing with the iron at all. No risk of allowing dangerous particles to permeate the air.
I paced the cell as I thought. It’d probably be easiest to reach the tunnel through one of the side walls. From there, I'd have to play it by ear. Follow my instincts as best I could until I found a way out. Maybe I could fly and test the air for any currents that might lead to an outside opening?
I glanced up the tunnel one last time, ensuring I was alone before making my move.
These fucking furballs had no idea who they were messing with. I was a damn enforcer for a reason. I was gonna make sure that for every bit of fury I felt now, they paid for it in pain later.
I smirked and pushed both hands toward the concrete on my right, willing my summer fae flames to come out and play. But they didn’t. They crackled and sparked, but no fire appeared. Damn it!
Suddenly a door cracked open at the top of the stairs. The hinges screeched. A thin line of light spread out across the steps and the tunnel floor before disappearing with another creak as the door shut. Voices sounded like whispers, eventually growing in volume as four men approached my cell.
God, I hate being outnumbered like this. Unlike the other night with El Fuego, I wasn’t desperate for a fight.
I retreated to the back of my cage, eyeing them warily from a distance.
The wolf shifter I recognized immediately—if not by the tanned skin and pale green eyes, then definitely by the fact that my very blood was howling for him. My heart and soul soon joined in until I felt like I might burst. It was difficult to suppress those chaotic emotions, but I damn well fucking tried. He was my captor, nothing more.
E-Ethan, the redhead turned blond mountain man from the pub, was next to him carrying a tray of… food. Or something. It looked like crusty bread and a glass of milk. First of all, I hated milk. Second of all, if it wasn't Vietnamese takeout, then I didn't have the time of day for it.
As if on cue, my stomach freaking rumbled. I tightened my abs to keep the sound from spreading further, but I'm pretty sure the shifters heard it. Sensitive hearing and all. Well, apparently their noses weren't sensitive—otherwise they would have brought a better smelling meal.
I lifted my chin and cut straight to the chase. "You stemmed my fire powers. How?"
The tallest guy, the dragon shifter who’d swiped at me with his tail—The Shadow—was a dark-haired man with a mobster vibe. He merely smirked at my question and turned to the fourth guy, an older dude, the only guy I didn't recognize in the slightest. "What do you think, Larry? Another round?"
On instinct, my heart started hammering. But then my training kicked in, and I focused on taking slow deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. "Larry? Real badass name. Who are you other idiots? Curly and Moe?" I glanced from the dragon and wolf over to the ex-ginger. "Looks like you're the odd man out, E-Ethan." I stuttered over his name just like he had when we first met, mocking him. It was all I could do in my powerless state.
His eyes narrowed but a blush crept over his cheeks. He actually didn't look anything like the others. The dragon had dark hair and dark blue eyes. The wolf had dark tan skin. The fourth guy, Larry, had once-dark hair that was now more salt than pepper and frazzled like crazy, but still. This guy, E-Ethan, was blond. Like, ice blond, only a few shades more golden than my silvery white, and his eyes were a sweet baby blue. He gave off more of a surfer vibe than a dangerous one. Strange that the most muscular one of the whole group had the softest face.
The hulking blond heaved a heavy sigh. "My name's not Ethan."
"Ha! You think?"
He rolled his baby blues and gestured for his wolfish buddy to unlock my cage. "My name's Easton. I'm sure you remember Bodie."
Mm. Bodie. My insides hummed in delight, while my brain rebelled like some punk rock goth. You'll never make me succumb to this bullshit mate magic.
I glared at them as Easton-Ethan continued. "That's Drake." He pointed at the brooding dragon shifter. "And that's—"
"Larry," I answered curtly. "I know. Which brings us full-circle and back to my original question: how'd you stem my magic?"
Bodie unlocked the cage and Easton silently lowered my tray of scraps to the floor, oh so cleverly avoiding my question. Again. I thought about lurching past them and making a run for it. My wings were healed, if I could just get past all four of them…
Yeah, no. I wanted freedom, but I wasn't stupid. I'd have to bide my time until the perfect moment. Then I’d make like Houdini and poof!
Blondie stared at me expectantly, like he thought I'd clamber all over myself to get to the tray. I mean, my stomach may have been spasming, but I wasn't that desperate yet.
"What, Goldilocks?" I asked, recalling his nickname from the other day. "The porridge looks disgusting. Tell the three bears I only eat Vietnamese takeout. Pho, if they can manage."
"You're kidding me, right?" Easton asked with a confused half grin. His teeth sparkled as brightly as his eyes. "You're a hostage right now, Princess. You should be happy that we're feeding you at all."
I raised a brow. "Should I? You fuckers obviously want me alive. So, if you want me to eat, you’re gonna have to bring the food I want."
I had a kitten once, a stray I'd taken in behind my parents' backs. It was so tiny and cute, but it refused to eat cat food. The only thing it wouldn't snub its nose at was tuna, fresh from the can. Spoiled little hairball. But I had wanted to keep it and take care of it, so I’d catered to the damn thing's whim. Everyday, I'd bring it the chicken of the sea. That is, until my parents found out about the kitten and disposed of it—permanently. "You never know when an animal is real or actually a shifter in disguise," they'd told me. "They aren’t all criminals but the ones who are will stop at nothing. They don’t have human morals."
I supposed they were right.
But the point was: I was the cute little kitten in this story. All I had to do was hold out long enough, and I'd soon have pho served to me on a silver platter on the daily. Or so I hoped.
"Fuck her, then," the dick-headed dragon shifter spat. "She doesn't need to eat."
"Of course she does," Bodie argued, coming to my aid. My mind loathed it and my stomach appreciated it all at the same time.
Easton stood and backed out of the cell, leaving the tray with me in case I changed my mind. Which I obviously wasn't going to do. I mean, hell, they could have poisoned it or hidden more Elixir in there somehow, maybe planted a tracer that'd stick to my stomach walls, or something equally fucked up.
I took a couple steps closer, bent down, and flipped the whole tray over, crushing the bread into chunky crumbs and spilling the milk halfway out the door.
"I don't want your flea-infested gruel," I told them coldly.
Easton's blue eyes widened in surprise, while Bodie's yellow-green gaze shuttered in disappointment.
"Good," Drake growled through gritted teeth. He ripped the barred door open and stomped inside. "Maybe you don't want your flea-infested freedom, either?"
He reached for my wrist, but my instincts were faster. I yanked my left hand out of his grasp, and with the right, jabbed a fist into the side of his arrogant face. His head cocked just slightly to the side, not as far as I'd been hoping, but the look of malice that invaded his face was enough to make m
e grin. Come on, Puff. Let your magic dragon out to play.
Scales tore up his arms and a ring of smoke shot from his nostrils. His eyes flashed yellow, and when he came at me again, his hands were replaced by massive black claws. He'd only partially shifted into his dragon—just as he had the first time—but it was still enough to make me falter. I had no fire, no weapons. All I had left was my pride and my determination to retain a little dignity. He wanted to drag me out like a naughty child, then he had another thing coming.
"Just try and cuff me, you overgrown gecko," I gritted out.
More smoke flared and he charged at me. Leaping, I split my legs and flew just over his head, quickly smacking my wings into the concrete ceiling above.
You think you could have made my cage any smaller? I thought at him angrily.
He grabbed my leg and yanked down, throwing me onto the concrete floor hard enough to pop my shoulder out of place. Pain raced down my arm like a bolt of lightning and an involuntary whimper escaped my lips.
"Damn it, Drake," Bodie said, storming into the cell with us. "That's enough."
"It fucking better be," Drake huffed, snapping the cuffs into place on my wrists.
I wanted to lash out, but my skin hissed where the malevolent metal touched me, weakening me instantly. "Iron? Really? You couldn't have gone with standard steel? You had to go that extra mile to mar me and piss me off?"
Drake grinned maliciously. "If I had my way, Princess, you'd already be dead. So, yes."
"Are we ready to proceed, then?" a quirky voice asked, cutting through the tension. I glanced over and saw the frazzle-haired man, Larry, approach my cell. He held a wand in his hand. He was a mage?
"Fucking traitor," I spat at him. "Turning on your own kind to help the wrong side!"
The mage heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head sympathetically. "No, Dear Princess. After nearly a century of wrongdoings, I'm finally on the right side."
Brainwashed. How long had they held him captive before his mind cracked? What sort of lies had they fed him? I had the sudden urge to help him, to bring him with me when I broke free, but I didn't know if that was gonna be possible.
"Hang on, Larry," Drake growled. "I have a few questions for her first." He rattled my cuffs so that the iron dug deep into my skin, making me wince.
Easton grabbed the bars from the outside and pressed his face in close. "Come on, man, she's already in enough pain. You don't need to push her around and make it worse."
Drake threw my hands away, knocking me onto my ass, as he stomped between the wolf and the blond—I didn't know what kind of shifter Easton was, yet.
"Are you two fucking kidding me right now? She's one of our biggest enemies! A fae royal. Chief Enforcer. She fucking murdered El Fuego in cold blood! She's murdered hundreds of us…" He trailed off and shook his head. "And you want to go easy on her because she's easy on your stupid blind eyes? Because her skinny fae ass somehow gets your dicks hard? Remember the goddamn plan."
"Excuse me, asshole," I hissed as I tried to right myself without the use of my hands. I felt like a fucking fish flopping around on a butcher block. "But I have a rather nice ass. With plenty of curves and an hourglass shape."
Drake ignored me, fisting a clump of my silvery white hair and dragging me closer to his face. "Where are the mages keeping the bodies?"
"What the fuck are you talking abo—"
"Where are they keeping the bones?"
"Bones?" I asked, astounded. "What bones?"
He quickly changed direction. "Where are they hiding the other mage jewels?"
I scoffed. "As if I'd tell you even if I—"
He yanked my hair again, making me snarl. "Who's responsible for the fires?"
"What fucking fires?" The normal every-summer wildfires that always plagued California? Was he serious? "The trees. The trees caused the fires," I said. An idiotic question deserved a stupid answer.
"You fucking wasp!" Drake bellowed, his voice echoing through the underground tunnel. "Stop playing stupid with me! You're the goddamned Chief Enforcer! I know you know what I'm talking about."
"Maybe she doesn't," Easton muttered, eyeing me carefully with those clear blue eyes.
"Why are you two doing this?" the dragon shifter roared in frustration, glancing back over at the other two shifters.
Bodie came forward and pried my hair out of his friend's grasp. Then he went nose to nose with him. "Because she's my mate."
"She is not!" Drake shouted.
At the same time I cried, "I am not!"
The wolf shifter didn't so much as roll his green eyes, just kept facing off against Drake in an epic battle to see who blinked first. I wanted to blow a big bratty raspberry at both of them and tell them to hurry this shit along. The sooner they got the hell out of here, the sooner I could come up with a viable escape plan. And the sooner I could figure out exactly what all my injuries were and try to treat them.
"Right, well, as invigorating as this is, I have other things to do, so…" the mage began, but Drake cut him off.
"You have nothing more important to do than this, Larry. Now get in here and get it done."
"This isn't fair to her," Bodie snarled, running a hand through his dark hair.
Drake pushed him, and Bodie stumbled out through my cell door into the hall. The dragon shifter bellowed, "I don't give a fuck what's fair and what isn't to a fly. And neither should you."
"Don’t fucking push me! She's more than that. She's my—"
"So, help me god, if you say mate one more time," Drake threatened, stalking towards him as he too exited my cell.
For once, I agreed with the dragon. Bodie needed to shut the fuck up.
Drake shook his head. "It's bullshit fae magic. Nothing more. The sooner we get rid of her, the sooner your damn brains will come back."
"Yeah," Bodie agreed, his features twisting in sarcasm, "about this getting rid of her plan. It's not gonna happen."
"What did you say to me, kid?"
They were back at each other's throats in an instant. Drake was taller, but Bodie’s wife beater showed he had all the muscles necessary to back up his claims. My eyes flickered between the two alpha males. And, against my every conscious wish, my pussy flickered to life watching them about to fight.
Down, girl. We have to focus. I slid my eyes over to the Thor-wannabe instead. His eyes flickered gold when he inhaled.
Shit. Could he smell my arousal?
"Guys, why don't we take this… outside," Easton said, glancing warily between them and me.
"Fine," Bodie said, sounding a little too cocky.
The three shifters strode off down the hall and disappeared into the darkness.
I had a bad feeling Drake was going to knock Bodie out as soon as they got out of my sight. My stomach twisted into hundreds of tiny knots, making me sick with longing and worry for the wolf. What the hell? No. I tried to suppress the emotion, but it was like swallowing down knives—it fucking hurt.
The mage turned to me once they were gone. He sighed. "Let's just get this over with, shall we?"
I cocked my head arrogantly. "Get what over with, exactly?"
Larry smiled calmly, more of that strange sympathy shining through. "You asked how they'd stemmed your powers. I'm the reason. I've been using a Power Limiting Spell on you."
My mouth must've dropped open, because he quickly said, "Don't worry. The effects aren't permanent, and they'll cause no long-lasting damage. It's simply a necessary precaution."
My lips pursed and I rolled my eyes. "A necessary precaution," I mocked. "Because they know I'd kick their asses and escape in no time, otherwise."
"Actually, Princess, it's a precaution against yourself. I wouldn't want you doing something you'll regret."
I laughed right out loud. Poor brainwashed bastard. Maybe he was already too far gone. I might not have been able to rescue him, but I could damn sure use him.
I squeezed my fists against the iron handcuffs and smirked at the
unknowing mage.
These stupid fucking shifters had thought of just about everything.
Everything except how far I would go to escape.
9
Bodie
Aubry’s face invaded my mind, just like her sweet citrus scent invaded my nostrils.
I’d tried to fight the bond at first but there was no denying it. As she’d laid down there for days, I’d gradually come to accept this new reality. That I was intoxicated by her. Everything about her, from her white hair to her delicious, orange scent.
Wait. Her scent? I shouldn’t be able to smell her this far away. Even a mate bond shouldn’t extend—
I turned to see Larry striding up the stairs behind me, scratching the back of his grizzled head. Guess he was finished re-casting the spells to suppress her fire. Larry was a great mage, but also a good man. Sometimes, too good for the likes of us. He generally refused to use murdered people’s bones in his spells, which meant he had to redo them more often. The magic just wasn’t as strong without murder bones.
I watched our mage pass by the open doorway without looking my way. His posture was stiff, like he was trying not to acknowledge me. I knew he didn’t agree with this plan to keep and use Aubry. I didn’t even agree with it anymore. Not now that I knew the woman down there was my mate.
Fucking hell. My mate was hurt. I didn’t have time for this shit. Her scent retreated as I stared at the doorway while I watched Drake and Easton argue out of the corner of my eye. They were fighting about me. With me, though I’d stopped responding.
"Bodie, I think you’re overtired. You’ve been taking too many shifts watching her." Drake said something idiotic like that and I would have rolled my eyes but I was only half-listening. Quarter listening maybe.
This was wrong. So wrong.
How could this be happening? Was fate punishing me? The mate bond, a magical, spiritual connection that a wolf shifter only got once in a lifetime—and mine was with the enemy.
Fae Captive (The Mage Shifter War Book 1) Page 8
