by Sarah Beth
Alex nodded at him, not surprised by the lack of words. He pointed to the cage that still held an unconscious Tori inside. “Get her out of there, we need to see how badly she’s hurt.” He didn’t have to voice that it looked bad. There was no outward sign of blood loss. But her heart rate was slow and her breathing unsteady.
Wesley stalked over to the cage, stopping a few inches away from it. God, he hated silver. Sure, it wouldn’t kill him, but it hurt like hell and took longer to heal than any broken bone. He didn’t stop the growl as he reached down and griped the top of the cage in both hands. With a savage yell he pulled as hard as he could, using the searing pain in his hands as fuel.
The cage creaked, gave, and then snapped apart in his hands. He tossed the top half away before kicking the remaining walls away from Tori’s body. He knelt down slowly, reaching out a hand tentatively, “Ah, come on, Tor —.” He touched her gray speckled fur, burrowing his fingers down to the skin. She was warm, that was always a good sign.
With a little more force behind it, he ran a hand down her side, trying to feel for injuries. He watched her chest rise and fall as he searched, but her breathing never changed. Fairly certain he felt more than one broken rib, he softened his movements. He listened closer to her heart beating — it was slow, but the beats were strong. He let out a sigh of relief. Whatever the warlock had done to her wasn’t fatal. At least not yet.
He looked over and saw that Alex had already gotten Kyle out, who lay unconscious and covered in blood a few feet from the cages. Warren had woken up and looked about as happy as Wesley felt, his eyes never leaving Kyle even as he helped Alex break open his own cage. A soft whimper caused Wesley to turn back to Tori, putting his hands on her side gently as she started to move. “Easy, you took a bad hit. A spell or something kept you down and out for a while.”
Slowly, squinting even in the dim light of the warehouse, she opened her yellow eyes. She groaned before attempting to sit up. Wesley backed off, letting his hand fall to his side, as he could feel Tori’s change coming through the pack bond. He wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea for her to shift right away, she was low on energy after just waking. But her fur was already beginning to ripple, so Wesley gave her more space.
Pained sounds filled the warehouse as Tori and Warren shifted. Wesley didn’t care how many times he shifted, listening to someone else shift was worse. Hearing bones snapping and muscle stretching was not pleasant. A few minutes later and Tori was holding her head in her hands.Her voice rough, she asked, “What happened?”
Before Wesley could do anything but snort, Alex walked over to them. “We got our asses handed to us by a child.”
Tori looked up at him standing in front of her and frowned, “Oh, is that all.”
“And we lost Abby.” Wesley was surprised that words and not a growl had come out.
Tori turned to him, her eyes searching his face and worry etched into every muscle, “Do we know where she is?”
He shook his head. He and Abby hadn’t mated yet, not in the literal sense. If they had — well, he’d be able to sense her location wherever she was. Lifting his nose to the air, Wesley almost gagged. The room reeked of dark magic, acidic and rotten. But there was no evidence of where they went and no way to track it. Once outside of the building the breeze would have taken the scent who knew where by then. Wesley looked across the way at Warren, as he carefully ran his hands down Kyle’s black and white dappled fur. How such a big and burly man could touch something with such care was a mystery to Wesley. He wished he could touch Abby like that.
He ran a hand down his face, “We can’t sense each other like that, not yet anyway — she’s too far away. Wherever she is.” He couldn’t look at them, knowing that he would see worry and sadness in their eyes.
It was only Tori’s hand on his arm that made him turn back to them. She smiled softly, “We’ll find her, Wes. No one expected you two to be Mated in less than a week. I mean, I at least gave her a little more credit than that.”
He looked from her understanding face to Alex, who looked just as determined as he ever did. “She’s a strong girl, Wesley. Being a powerful witch is just a plus. She may not know a lot yet, but her power won’t abandon her. Trust her to survive.”
He knew Abigail was no defenseless mouse. But she had just learned of her birthright a few days ago, had only just learned how to even access her powers. He did trust her, more than he probably should since they’d only known each other for 60 odd hours. But he also knew what this warlock was capable of, whether he was powerful or not. He had murdered two innocents, gaining enough power from their suffering to give him enough to stand against a werewolf. They had no idea if Jessie, the missing Canry girl, was still alive or had already become the warlock’s next victim. Who was to say that he couldn’t gain an upper hand against Abby, an untrained witch?
“Alright everyone, let’s regroup.” Alex looked down at himself and then Wesley, a smirk growing on his face, “Let’s find some clothes. Then we’ll call Claire. Maybe she can find out where the warlock could’ve gone.”
Wesley stood, helping Tori to her feet with a hand under her elbow, “Or maybe a way to locate Abby.”
Alex gave a curt nod before walking towards a set of large doors to their right. As he waited for Warren to limp passed him, Kyle still listless in his arms, Wesley took up the rear of the group to protect their backs if needed. As they neared the door, the smell of magic began to dissipate.
Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have been offended that someone thought so little of him. But right then, with his family hurting and his Mate missing, he was only grateful. Pausing at the door, he looked back into the warehouse where everything had gone wrong. He sent a silent prayer to anyone who may have been listening. He stopped believing in any sort of gods long ago — but he knew the spirits could hear him even if he couldn’t hear them. So quietly, as to not catch any werewolf ears, he whispered. “Find her for me. Watch over her. Tell her I’m coming.”
Chapter Thirty-One
❖
Abby
Her head hurt; pounded to match her rapid heartbeat. She didn’t want to move, just wanted to stay in bed all day until the pain decided to go away. She reached down for the covers to pull them over her head, her hand searching around and finding nothing.
All at once the memories of the last few days and hours came back to her. Her breath stopped short, her movement stilled. She listened for a moment, trying to catch any indication that she wasn’t alone. Satisfied that she didn’t hear any indication of someone else in the room, she slowly opened her eyes. Darkness was all she saw at first, before her eyes started to distinguish shapes in the small room. Bars were in front of her, but she noted that they weren’t silver like the ones that had held the pack. A deep breath and she sat up, pulling her legs underneath her. The bars reached the ceiling of the small room, making her wonder if they were in some sort of old police precinct. On the other side of the bars was a few wooden crates in one corner, a door in front and to the right of her a small window, light peeking in through it. One last quick survey of her surroundings and she sighed, running a hand down her dirty face. “Way to go, Abby. Sacrifice yourself to save the others, that was smart. Now what are you going to do?”
Deciding the one thing she certainly wasn’t going to do was sit and pout, she got up quickly and dusted off her jeans. She started to walk the walls, running her hand along the brick. She glanced down at her purple socks and wiggled her toes — they had taken her boots. They had been caked in mud and gravel. Someone, it appeared, was smarter than the warlock. Thinking back to the events at the warehouse, this only solidified her assumption that this warlock wasn’t the one in charge. He hadn’t even realized who or what she was. He would’ve let her get away if it hadn’t been for that voice. It didn’t make sense then, that he would’ve had the forethought to take away her shoes; she could’ve used the earth on them to create a spell. Someone else must have told him to
do it.
She made the rounds around the room multiple times. Starting from the top and working her way down the bricks, trying to find any weak spots or holes. She wasn’t totally sure what she was looking for, but she had watched enough crime shows on tv to at least try and look. There was nothing, not even a little crack by the base where the wall met the cement floor.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there, but her toes were starting to go cold. She pulled her legs closer to her body and wrapped her arms around them. She missed the coat and boots she had been gifted very much.
A chapter from one of the books she had borrowed from Elazar came to her mind. It had been one of the first chapters she read, about meditation and drawing on the magic that sat in her core. Leaning her head back against the wall, she shut her eyes and tried to keep her breath even. In and out in a steady rhythm. She felt the warmth in her chest surge for a moment, as she called upon it to warm her body. Slowly at first, and then all of a sudden a flood of warmth filled her, and her body was toasty warm — all the way down to her toes and fingertips. Her eyes flew open, shocked that it actually worked. She hadn’t really thought that it would, but didn’t know what else to do. She really wanted the comforting feeling that her magic gave her. Wiggling her toes, she smiled.
A bright light appeared out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head quickly, she backed away from a glowing ball of light that hovered beside her. Her power surged up at the sudden adrenaline spike, but before she could calm herself again, the orb pulsed. She heard it speak inside her head, the voice feminine and ethereal. “He will come for you. He is coming. Stay strong. Stay alive.”
Staring at the orb became difficult. The light started to play tricks on her, but she couldn’t look away. No spirit she had ever seen came to her in such a form. They always came looking like they had in death, usually covered in blood and whatever instrument had ended their life stuck in their body. She crawled back towards the light, her jeans scraping the floor, “Who? Who is coming?”
The orb pulsed again, quickly this time. She got the feeling it was irritated at her. “The wolf. The wolf will come for you.”
Sitting back on her legs, she looked down at her dirty hands on her thighs. He was coming for her? A small smile grew on her face. She had been an idiot to think that he wouldn’t. If he had anything to say about it, the entire human army would be coming to get her. She looked back up at the orb, a single tear falling down her face.
The light was dimming, the orb’s power seeming to dissipate. “We will be with you. Stay strong. Stay alive.”
The light it vanished before her eyes, leaving orbs of light dotting her vision in the dark room. He was coming for her. Just the thought alone gave her a little more determination. It’s not like she was just going to stand there and let this child who called himself a warlock steal her magic. But she hoped she could stall him long enough for someone to stop him. She hadn’t exactly planned to survive the next few hours, or days, that may be ahead of her. But then the thought of Wesley’s sky-blue eyes crossed her mind, and she would be damned if she didn’t get to see them in person again.
The door on the other side of the bars swung open. Light poured into the room, illuminating the back of the figure standing in the doorway. She knew immediately who it was. No one else would be caught dead in that Darth Vader cloak. He reached to his right, and she heard the switch click a second before light filled the room. She couldn’t stop herself from snapping her eyes closed against the brightness, after being in the dark for so long.
“Well, look who decided to join the land of the living again.” He sounded so mocking it made her sick. In his eyes, anyway, he had already won. “Don’t look so put out, darling. You’ll get to be a part of the fun too.” It took all of her willpower to not sneer at him.
As it was, she cocked her head to the side and raised a brow, trying hard to ignore the sneer on his lips. The big black glasses perched on his nose took away some effect of it. “Oh, and here I thought you were just going to keep me in here until I died of old age.”
He smiled then, that creepy wicked smile he had worn in the warehouse. It sent shivers down her spine and made her power pulse inside her. In that moment, the glasses didn’t take away much. “Not quiet. Now…” Two figures walked into the room behind him, their red eyes and pale skin just like the one who had grabbed her at the warehouse. Vampires, something inside her told her. Why not since werewolves were real too? “Are you going to come nicely or do my friends here need to help you?”
She looked from one tall and pale figure to the other, studiously ignoring their blood-red eyes. Sighing, she brushed dust off her jeans as she stood up. “Why bother fighting? It’s not like I can get out of here.” At least that’s what she wanted him to believe, hoping against all odds that she was wrong.
He nodded, “A very sensible girl you are.” He walked to a lock on the bars, pulling a key out of his black shirt pocket. Her eyes followed the movement, saw that his nails were blunt short and caked in dirt. At least she hoped it was dirt — but a sick feeling in her stomach told her that it wasn’t.
“I had my doubts when I found out a witch was hanging out with a pack of dogs.” He shrugged as the door to her cell swung open without anyone touching it. “But I guess everyone has their moments, right?”
God, she really wanted to punch him. Instead, she slowly walked towards the door he held open and smiled sweetly. She kept her eyes on him until she walked out of the cell, then training them on the two vampire looking at her like she was food. She must have stopped walking a moment, because then a hand was on her shoulder and the warlock’s face was beside her ear. “Don’t worry about them. Faye-born blood like yours is poison to a vampire. They won’t take a bite.”
Her skin crawled where he touched her. His breath on her neck made her flesh rise in goosebumps. Her power pulsed again, wanting nothing more than to shove him off her and preferably through the wall behind him. But she had to play her cards right — and just because the vampires wouldn’t drink her blood, didn’t mean they wouldn’t snap her neck before she ever had the chance to do anything. She started walking again. relieved when the hand fell from her shoulder, and the vampires took their place behind her. A short hallway sat outside the room, paint that had probably once been white had yellowed with age. One door sat down the hallway to the right and then the hallway curved at the end.
The warlock slipped passed her, winking over his shoulder at her, “Come on, darling. Right this way.” His overly dramatic cloak flowed out behind him with how hard he walked. She would’ve laughed under any other circumstance.
She didn’t have to look behind her to know that his pet vampires were still there. Holding her shoulders back and her head high, she followed him down the hallway and passed the door. Turning the corner, she saw that the hallway opened up into a larger room. This room looked newer or at least well kept. The walls were made of steel, large steel beams spanned the space above her head. She guessed it was probably a metal roof too. The floor, no matter how much she wished would be packed dirt, was cement just like her cell had been.
Great.
A hand shoved her from behind, making her stumble further into the room. It was then that she saw that the room was bigger than she had thought it was. A few crates were pushed to the edges of the room but the majority was clear, a large circular design drawn on the center of the floor. She looked to her right, and it took every ounce of strength and fortitude she had gained over the years to not scream.
Chapter Thirty-Two
❖
Abby
The poor missing Canry girl wasn’t breathing. Or at least Abby sure as hell hoped she wasn’t. Her naked body chained to the far wall was covered in deep gashes and sliced to bits. A pool of blood under the girl’s feet. Abby knew enough from watching crime TV that that much blood meant she had been alive when she got sent through a paper shredder.
Abby swallowed, calling on her power t
o give her the strength she so desperately needed to not puke. Forcing herself to look away, she found the warlock standing on the other side of the design on the floor, and this time, she really did want to rip that smile off his face. “You bastard.” Her voice shook, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at that moment. He would pay for what he did to those girls.
He laughed at her words, his arms opening wide, “You don’t like what I’ve done to the place? I think it has a certain aesthetic, don’t you?”
Another shove at her back and this time she looked back at the vampire. It hissed at her before it shoved her again, harder this time so Abby stumbled forward. Closer to the pentagram-like design. She may not know much about magic, the Faye, or the world she had suddenly found herself in. But every fiber in her being told her to stay as far away from that pattern on the floor as she could. She stared at it, and it almost seemed to pulse at her, trying to draw her in. Like it wanted her to fall into its clutches.
Her power surged in her chest, pulsing in response to the circle, her heart started to beat impossibly fast. Somehow, that pattern on the floor freaked her out more than the warlock standing across from her, a wicked glint in his eye. Involuntarily she took a step back, but she figured out pretty quickly that vampires were very strong. They grabbed her, one on each arm, and tossed her into the center of the design.
