“Yes,” Mia said with a nod of her head.
“Are ye in any pain?”
She had to think about it for a moment. Mia had fallen out of a tree, a considerable distance and yet, “No- I’m not.” But how could it be? She should have broken a few bones, snapped a wrist, something, but felt completely fine. Restored even, as if she hadn’t just trekked through the woods in a dress and bare feet.
“I am relieved to hear it,” The woman said, and Mia believed her. “Poor thing. Ye’ve suffered enough.”
A memory came back to her at those words, a brief flash of pain, a hard impact to the head. Mia reached a hand to the back of her head, searching her scalp for the evidence of such a blow. “Something hit me,” Mia prodded her flesh for the sensitive spot. “I was knocked out.”
“Yes,” The woman said stiffly, seeming displeased. She covered Mia’s hand with her own, stopping her search for the elusive welt. Her thick black braid fell from her shoulder; it dangled between them, the end like the bristles of a paintbrush, brushed against Mia’s wrist.
“Who?” Mia asked, developing a kernel of unease beneath her breastbone.
“Vander,” The woman sighed and stood. “Ye must understand,” she looked down at Mia with a pained curve to her mouth. “Ye would have fled, and you were in no condition to survive another moment in the forest.”
“So he scared me out of a tree and knocked me out?” Mia demanded, “Why didn’t he just talk to me?” Something wasn’t right here. She saw it in the way the older woman’s face closed off. As if she’d said too much. A thought came to her then, borne of suspicion and her growing unease. What if this little old lady and the guy, Vander, were the reason Mia was in the forest in the first place? What if they’d kidnapped her from the party Thursday night?
Was it so far-fetched? This kind of thing happened all the time. Oh no, bile rose in her throat, please no.
She was in danger, grave danger. Mia wasn’t an idiot, she read the news, saw the posters. Most young girls who went missing were never seen or heard from again, and if they were, they were usually dead, their gruesome stories broadcasted on every news channel for months. That would be her if she didn’t do something and quick. Mia refused to put her parents through that kind of hell.
“It doesn’t matter,” Mia said, dismissing her question with a wave of a hand. Maybe she could appeal to this lady’s better nature. She didn’t look like the kind of person who could hurt someone’s child. Right? “Look,” Mia made sure to smile even as her pulse raced and her hands shook. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me...” Mia realized then that she didn’t know the woman’s name.
“Hanna,” She supplied, “my name is Hanna.”
“Hanna,” Mia repeated, wincing internally when her voice cracked on the last syllable. “Thank you for taking care of me; I really am feeling much better. I need to get going though; my parents are probably wondering where I am. I don’t want them to worry.” Mia had to stop to catch her breath; she was so incredibly nervous. “Do you think you could point me in the right direction and I’ll be on my way?”
Hanna’s face crumpled in distress, and she shook her head. “I can’t,” Her voice was quiet and full of regret, “It’s not possible.” She turned her back on Mia and took a few steps toward the door.
“Wait!” Mia shouted after her, scrambling out of bed, almost falling in her haste. “What do you mean?” She caught one of Hanna’s hands in her own. “Please, Hanna!” Mia was about to lose all control of herself. The woman stopped, shoulders rigid with tension and turned reluctantly to face her. “Please help me. I’m someone’s daughter. Please. My mom’s name is Sarah; she’s a drama teacher...” Mia spewed every detail she could think of about her parents and her life, remembering something she’d seen on TV forever ago. If she could make this woman see her as a kid with a family and a future then maybe she would let her go.
“Stop!” Hanna yelled, yanking her hand out of Mia’s grip.
Mia gulped, swallowing her words, she’d been talking about UBC when had Hanna cut her off. Tears rolled down her cheeks in a steady stream, and her throat was dry, parched with emotion. Did it work?
“Please,” Mia repeated, “let me go home.”
“I can’t!” Hanna wailed, tears spilling over her soft cheeks. There was a desperate sadness in her eyes, “I want nothing more than to return you to yer poor parents but I cannot.” She turned away, choking on her words. “Oh, where is Orden?”
“Why?” Mia shouted. The older woman jumped, her braid, bumping against her spine between her sharp shoulder blades. Grey hairs glinted in the light from the candle. “Are you so far gone that you can just steal a girl from a party, drug her and cart her off to God knows where for God knows what? What is wrong with you?” Mia was breathing harder than she ever had before. It was like there was an oxygen shortage in the room; she could not get enough air to fill her lungs. Her heart felt like it might explode with the stress. This couldn’t be happening; Mia couldn’t be one of those girls. Hanna flew around in a flurry of skirts, her face contorted with horror.
“We didn’t steal ye! Eldhor brought ye here.” She must have said too much because she clapped her hands to her mouth, eyes going wide above arthritic knuckles.
“What?” Mia said in a low voice, going cold. She was standing on the edge of something dangerous.
“I can’t-”
“Do you think this is a joke?” Mia asked in a voice shaking with anger and fear alike. Who was this Eldhor and why had he brought her here? “What the hell are you talking about?” One more lie or evasion from this crazy old lady and Mia would take matters into her own hands. It was just the two of them, and she was younger and quicker, she could get out the door. Hanna dropped her hands to her apron and started plucking at the brown fabric with her fingers.
For the first time, Mia noticed the other woman’s clothes. She wore a dress that looked like it belonged on the set of a period drama. A full skirt flowed from a structured bodice, falling in deep folds to the floor, rustling with her every movement. The collar of a white underdress peeked out from a square neckline, stark against the loose, dark skin of her neck. Mia couldn’t understand why this kidnapping woman would be wearing such an outfit.
“I can’t explain it,” Hanna cried, “I don’t know enough. We’re good people. We did not take ye.”
“Then how did I get here?” Mia challenged, “And don’t lie!” She knew what Hanna was going to say before the woman opened her mouth to say it. Mia bolted. She had the element of surprise and ducked around the older, slower woman with ease. Mia wrenched the door open and dashed out into the dark.
Chapter 18
Whipping her head to the left, Mia saw that the hallway ended in a window, cool light spilling onto the floor. She took off to the right, running full tilt down the hall, her stockinged feet slapping against the floor. Mia looked back over her shoulder to see if Hanna had followed her- and ran into something big and solid. The force of impact propelled her backward, and Mia fell with a grunt of surprise. She hit her head hard against the ground and lay still, blinking up at the ceiling, stunned.
“Orden!” Hanna exclaimed from somewhere down the hall, high pitched and distraught. “Thank Eldhor.” Mia heard her hurried steps coming the hall. A hulking figure crouched down beside Mia.
“What happened?” The man asked in a deep, gravelly voice. Big hands wrapped around Mia’s upper arms then she was pulled into a sitting position. Stars danced before her eyes, bursting in bright flashes that distorted the bearded face hovering in front of her.
Hanna sounded out of breath as she spoke from somewhere behind Mia, “She woke up and started asking questions. Orden, she thinks we stole her.” Hanna seemed genuinely troubled that Mia would think that.
“Who are you?” Mia asked, shaking her head in an attempt to clear the stars from her vision.
“The question is: who are you?” The man said. He hoisted Mia to her feet with dist
urbing ease, as if she weighed nothing at all. Mia swayed dangerously on her feet.
“Whoa,” she said. If not for the man’s firm grip on her arms she would have fallen.
“Your name girl.” The man prompted, forcing her to focus. He was so tall that she had to crane her neck to look into his face. Grey eyes so pale they appeared almost translucent burned with intensity as he waited for her to answer.
“Orden, gently,” Hanna scolded, “the girl’s been through enough without you mishandling her.”
“She’ll endure much worse before this is over.” The man, Orden said, looking past Mia as he spoke to Hanna. “We cannot afford to coddle her.”
Mia hated the way they were talking about her as if she wasn’t even there. “What are you talking about?” She asked in a loud voice, demanding to be acknowledged.
Orden looked down at her, “Your training.” He said, “What is your name girl?”
“Why should I tell you?” Mia asked and struggled against her captor, “You’re just going to kill me anyway. What do you care?”
“Orden why would she think that?” Hanna asked, sounding genuinely appalled.
“Because it’s what people like you do. You’re sick!” Mia spat and did her best to twist out of the man’s hold, but his grip was firm. In fact, he barely seemed to register her efforts.
“It’s what they all think in the first days.” He answered in a tone that made Mia stop.
“But-”
“Enough,” Orden snapped, his eyes flashing silver as he fixed Hanna with a glare. “We don’t plan to hurt you,” Orden switched his gaze back to Mia, “but if you continue to terrorize my wife with your false accusations, an exception can be made.”
Hanna started to protest, but Mia cut her off. “If you’re not going to kill me then what do you want with me?” Did they intend to ransom her? A sick weight settled in her stomach as her mind jumped from one possibility to the next, getting progressively worse.
“Do your questions never cease girl?” Orden said in exasperation, so close she could smell the sharp tang of mint on his breath.
Mia glared at him, “No,” she said coolly, “they don’t.”
There was a calculating look in Orden’s pale eyes as he regarded her from beneath bushy brows. “Very well. I will answer your questions but,” he paused, narrowing his eyes at her, “you must agree to listen. Can you do that?”
The three of them were quiet as Mia considered. She didn’t have many options here. There was no point trying to run again: it was two against one now. Maybe if she listened, she could learn something useful like where they were. Something she could use to get home.
“Fine.” Mia said in defeat, “tell me where we are.”
“Not here,” Orden said and released her unexpectedly. Without another word he turned on his heel and walked down the hall.
“What? Why?” Mia was quick to catch up to him despite his long legs that far outmatched hers. “You said-”
“You’ll get your answers once we’ve had something to eat.” Orden said as he turned left at the end of the hall, leading her to an open landing.
“I’m not hungry,” Mia argued even as her traitorous stomach growled. Orden paid her no mind.
“You will eat.” He said, going down the stairs ahead of her.
Mia had no choice but to follow with Hanna close on her heels. A hand rested on her shoulder, “Don’t.” Hanna said quietly and the words Mia was about to say died on her tongue. She shook the hand off but decided to listen to the warning. Fine, she could do with some food- would need her strength to escape.
She was silent as they passed through an open door into a space that must be a kitchen. It was unlike any kitchen Mia had ever seen. There wasn’t a single appliance or stainless steel surface in the entire room. A brass fixture hung over a large yellowwood table in the center of the room, suspended from an exposed beam in the ceiling. Fat candles burned in the fixture providing the majority of the light in the room, reflecting off the top of Orden’s bald head.
Orden walked around the table and took a seat on the opposite side of the table, his back to the massive stone fireplace that dominated the wall behind him. He met Mia’s eyes and raised his brows, indicating she sit. Doing her best to keep her face blank and uninterested, Mia pulled a chair out from the table and sat. Hanna bustled over to the cabinets that spanned one entire wall and Mia watched her, studiously ignoring the assessing gaze of the intimidating man sitting across from her. Hanna stood on tiptoe, reaching into one of the plain upper cabinets. She pulled four bowls from a shelf and placed them on the butcher-block counter, then she retrieved four cups from the same cabinet.
Mia frowned, wondering who the fourth place setting was for. Maybe it was for this Vander Hanna had mentioned earlier: the guy who’d knocked her out. Mia hoped it was if only to give him a piece of her mind. “So will Vander be joining us?” Mia asked, addressing the question to Orden. There was a loud crash as the dishes Hanna carried fell to the floor and scattered. Mia jumped at the sound, and Orden’s unreadable eyes hardened; Mia didn’t miss the way they flitted in Hanna’s direction and back. He didn’t look happy.
The silence was deafening as Hanna bent to pick the tableware up off the ground. Mia had to fight the sudden urge to help the older woman. This lady kidnapped you. She doesn’t deserve your help. It was hard not to feel sorry as Hanna struggled to straighten up.
“He will not,” Orden said stiffly. He refused to look at his wife as she placed the stack of bowls and cups on the table next to his huge, thick-fingered hand. It was evident Hanna had done something wrong by telling her about Vander. Mia wanted to know why.
She looked to the narrow door over Orden’s left shoulder, “then who-”
“Breahn.”
“And who is that?” Mia’s voice bristled with frustration. What was it with this guy and his inability to give her a straight answer?
“She’s our daughter,” Hanna answered, speaking up for the first time. She stood by the fireplace, a wooden spoon in her hand as she stirred the contents of the black, cast iron pot hanging over the fire.
“I hope she knows her parents are twisted, disgusting kidnappers.” Mia couldn’t help herself; she’d grown tired of this waiting game. She needed answers, and if the only way to get them was by goading Orden and Hanna, then she would do it.
Hanna gasped and let the spoon fall against the rim of the pot with a hollow clunk. Orden fixed Mia with a dark glare. Had she overstepped? He clenched and unclenched his hands upon the table; he took a deep breath and spoke. “I will say this only once more, and you will do well to remember it: We did not kidnap you.”
“I’m sorry if I have a hard time believing you.” Mia said, looking between Orden and Hanna’s pale face. They hadn’t exactly given her a reason to think otherwise.
“It’s the truth.”
Mia looked past Orden’s bald head and saw a girl standing in the doorway. A cool breeze smelling of grass and other earthy things stole into the kitchen, stirring tendrils of black hair that framed the girl’s serious face. She wore her hair identical to Hanna, in a thick braid that rested on one shoulder. She had her mother’s eyes, pale blue, and piercing.
The girl’s presence made Mia feel small and alone and unsure. Here was yet another person to stand in the way of her escape. The girl had to be in on whatever her parents planned to do, how could she not be? The pretense was exhausting: Why keep denying nothing unwholesome was going on here? At this point Mia just wanted someone to tell her what they planned to do, no matter what it was.
“Please,” Mia said and to her dismay found herself dangerously close to tears, “please just tell me what’s going on. What do you want with me?”
“Oh Orden,” Hanna said. She came to stand behind her husband and placed a small, brown hand on his shoulder, the darkness of her skin standing out against the creamy shirt. “Can’t ye see the poor thing is scared half to death?”
Breahn moved furthe
r into the room, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Ye haven’t told her yet?” She asked, looking to Mia for confirmation.
“Orden-”
“Enough, the both of ye.” Orden silenced the two women with a low command. “Women,” He said under his breath and heaved an explosive sigh. He ran a hand over his head, the dry sound of skin on skin loud in the quiet room. “I had hoped to eat my dinner before beginning this unpleasant business, but I see now it cannot wait,” Mia said nothing, just sat there, frozen, waiting with bated breath. Her hands were sweaty where they rested in her lap, her heart pounded against her ribcage with bruising force. Mia might scream from the stress.
Orden looked down at the tabletop frowning, “Leave us.” He murmured. “Now,” he said more loudly when Hanna made to argue. His tone brooked no argument. Both women wore looks of resignation as they reluctantly obeyed. The girl left through the same door she’d come in earlier, swallowed up by the night the moment she stepped out into the dark. Hanna lingered a moment longer, worry written all over her face. Then she too was gone, following in her daughter’s footsteps.
Chapter 19
Mia found herself alone with Orden and wished she wasn’t. The two of them watched each other across the yellow tabletop, sizing one another up. What she saw left Mia discouraged. The man was old, his age evident in the salty tinge to the beard strangling the lower half of his face. Deep grooves marred his forehead above the shelf of his brow. His eyes were sunken deep into his skull, the skin around them deeply wrinkled. He looked tired, weary to the bone but even, so he was hugely intimidating: the most enormous man she’d ever seen. What was he thinking as he swept those pale grey eyes over her?
“Are you going to say something?” Mia asked when she couldn’t stand the tense silence a moment longer.
His blank facade slipped, and in the split second it took for him to recover, Mia realized something. He was genuinely troubled by whatever it was he was about to tell her. She couldn’t decide whether it boded well for her or not. “What I have to say will not be easy for you to hear,” Orden said in a tone devoid of emotion.
Chosen (The Last Guardians Book 1) Page 10
