Adric's Heart

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Adric's Heart Page 24

by Rebecca Rivard

The tall warrior’s spine went ramrod straight. “My apologies, sir. We didn’t detect him when he came through the portal.”

  Langdon gave a cold nod. “We’ll discuss your failure later, Quade. For now, confine the earth fada below. The woman you can leave here.”

  “No!” She jerked against the captain’s confining hand. “You’re not taking Adric anywhere without me.”

  Langdon tilted his head to the side. “You prefer to go with him?”

  She raised her chin. “Yes. In fact, I insist on it.”

  The prince’s lips stretched in a chilling smile. Too late, she realized she’d given him permission to imprison her.

  “Then we’ll be happy to accommodate you both.”

  30

  Captain Quade marched Rosana out of the library and down the marble stairs. The two warriors followed with Adric.

  It was the first she’d seen the foyer. She had a brief impression of a large, dimly lit space, and then the captain urged her through an open door and down another flight of stairs.

  They were in an underground warren with rooms and halls spearing off in multiple directions. As with the foyer, the only lighting came from a few torch-shaped fae lights. She glimpsed a cavernous wine cellar with hundreds of dusty bottles, and a room with an ancient brick hearth that she guessed had once been a kitchen.

  Their destination was a short hall with just three doors, all constructed of a thick wood reinforced with iron straps. The men carrying Adric opened the door at the end and tossed him inside.

  She flinched as his body thumped against the stone floor.

  The captain gestured her after Adric with a mocking smile. “Be my guest, senhorita.”

  Her throat constricted. The three steps into that small, windowless room were the most difficult of her life, but the need to protect Adric drove her forward.

  She had time to see a long wood bench against the far wall and that to her left, there was a rough toilet alongside a metal spout with a thin stream of water flowing into a narrow trough before disappearing down a drain. Then the door thudded shut behind her.

  A key turned in the lock, and she was alone in the dark with Adric. The only light came from a slit at the top of the door.

  Her eyes went night-glow, but all she could make out were dim gray shapes—Adric, the bench. Her chest tightened.

  It felt like a tomb. Small. Airless.

  She stumbled to the door, lungs pumping. Not sure what she was going to do, just knowing she had to get out. Now.

  This side of the door had no handle. She ran her hands over the wood anyway, hissing when her fingertips brushed one of the iron bands.

  Behind her, Adric groaned.

  She leaned her forehead against the wood.

  Calm the fuck down. He’s hurt—bad. He needs you.

  She took a deep breath.

  Okay, then.

  She’d make Adric as comfortable as possible and then trust that his natural healing ability would take over.

  She made her way to the trough, rinsed her burned fingers. The water was ice-cold, fresh from an underground stream. She splashed it on her face and then stuck her head under the thin trickle, gulping water until the dryness in her throat eased.

  She was pretty sure she’d glimpsed a cup near the trough. Calmer now, she felt around until her fingers closed on the cool metal. She filled the cup and took it back to Adric. Using a combination of touch and sight, she cleaned the gash on his head before returning to the trough for more water, which she used to rinse the gray powder from his face and hands. She was afraid the powder’s bitter smell meant it was poisonous.

  Adric moved restlessly, and she touched his cheek. “Adric? You okay?”

  He mumbled something and then went limp again.

  “That’s it, meu amor.” She rubbed his shoulder. “Rest. Let yourself heal.”

  His lips moved, but all that came out was a croak.

  “You must be thirsty. Hang on—I’ll be right back.” She made another trip for water, and then wet a finger and moistened his lips. He tried to suck her finger, so she trickled water into his mouth, but he murmured fretfully and turned his head away.

  “Just a little,” she said, and kept at him until he took a few sips. Setting the cup down, she sat next to him and eased his head onto her lap. “Rest.” She stroked his cheek. “Everything is going to be all right.”

  It didn’t matter that he probably couldn’t hear her. Just saying it aloud made her feel better.

  She was silent for a time, but that made the darkness creep closer, almost like it was a living being. Like when Blaer had tried to feed on them in Lewes—or Langdon just now.

  She shuddered.

  It’s just your imagination.

  At least, she hoped it was. She pulled Adric closer.

  “Know something?” She nuzzled his hair. “I love that I can touch you without setting off my Sight. Although right now, I wouldn’t mind Seeing how to break us out of here. Because I have to tell you, I just knew that I had to be here with you.” She grimaced. “Just don’t ask me why, because I haven’t been much help so far.”

  She stilled. Not only had she not helped, she was probably why he’d been captured. Because she had the bad feeling that if not for her, Adric wouldn’t have rushed into the library like that. He’d have waited to catch Langdon off-guard.

  “No.” A sick feeling seeped into her belly. “My being here does not set off the timeline leading to your death.”

  In her vision, Adric had been alone. She had to believe that somehow her presence changed things, although that didn’t mean she could sit by and let things play out. She had to do something. But what?

  She resumed stroking him. Think, Rosana.

  But she was fresh out of ideas. Her only hope was that Cleia had heard her cry for help, and that she and Dion would realize Rosana had been taken to New Moon. If they didn’t find her note and blame Adric for her disappearance…

  She blew out a breath. Deus, what a mess.

  She rested the back of her head against the wall. The rush of adrenaline that had carried her through the fight had worn off, leaving her feeling like a deflated balloon. Her eyelashes fluttered down. She forced them open, afraid to go to sleep.

  The cell smelled musty, the floor covered with a layer of dust as if no one had been here for a long time. How long would Langdon leave them down here in the dark?

  And what if Adric got worse? She was no healer. She could scream herself raw and no one would hear.

  Fear clogged her throat. Her breath shortened. Were the walls closing in?

  Stop it. That’s just what Langdon wants. If you freak out, he wins.

  Her chest heaved, shifting the pendant Adric had given her. She pulled it from her shirt, fingered it. As in the prince’s library, the amethyst was oddly warm.

  Her jaw set. “You do love me. You’re just afraid to admit it.”

  “Mmph.”

  She glanced down. Adric looked back at her, eyes gleaming a brilliant blue in the gloom.

  31

  From far off, Adric heard Rosana arguing with Langdon. Was aware of other people in the room, too, all men.

  Get the fuck away from her.

  His vocal cords vibrated in a growl that only he heard. He tried to rise but couldn’t.

  Rough hands lifted him, conveyed him down first one flight of stairs, then another. Pain jolted through his head, down his spine. He gritted his teeth and bore it. He would not give them the satisfaction of hearing him groaning.

  The movement halted. The hands released him and he fell to the floor. His head bounced. A white light exploded behind his eyes. The pain reached a screaming pitch and he passed out.

  For a time, everything was blissfully dark. But gradually, sensation returned, and with it the knowledge that Rosana needed him.

  He clawed his way back to consciousness.

  Cold. Dank.

  Hard stone beneath his body.

  The musical trickle of water.
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  Rosana’s scent, and the murmur of her voice.

  A soft thigh beneath his head…and his head pounding like a motherfucker.

  “You do love me,” she said. “You’re just afraid to admit it.”

  “Mmph.” He wasn’t sure if he was agreeing or disagreeing, but he did know that he needed to see her.

  He forced his eyes open. He was on his back with his head on Rosana’s lap. The room was so dark he could barely see a foot in front of his face. His eyes went night-glow.

  Rosana gave a tremulous smile, her own irises a luminous aquamarine in the shadowy light. “You’re awake.”

  He grunted, the only sound he could manage right then.

  He hurt everywhere. His muscles. His bones. His fingers. His face. Even his toes twinged when he gave them an experimental flex.

  But the worst was his head. He fingered his right temple. He vaguely recalled Langdon slamming him face-first into the desk. The blow had reverberated through his skull and down his vertebrae. He was lucky the prick hadn’t broken his neck. Thankfully, the wound had already scabbed over, his body drawing on his quartz to speed his healing.

  But after that, he didn’t recall much. In fact, he couldn’t remember exactly how Rosana had come to be involved.

  “How long…was I out?”

  “About fifteen minutes.”

  “Fuck.” He tried to lift his head off her lap and froze as the dull throbbing in his brain spiked.

  “Shh. Don’t move.” Rosana guided him back onto her thigh. “Rest.”

  She smoothed a palm over his eyes and nose, down to his chin. The pain eased. His eyelids drifted shut. He nuzzled her hand, both man and cat wanting nothing but to drift off again.

  He forced his eyes to open. “Where?” he asked through swollen lips.

  “Still in Langdon’s lair—a level below the foyer. A prison cell. The door is solid wood reinforced with iron, and there are no windows, just a slot at the top of the door. They didn’t bother with a bed, either. Or heat.”

  His throat worked. “Sorry.”

  It was coming back to him now. Discovering that Rosana was the night fae’s prisoner, rushing to her rescue. He’d have pulled it off if the prince hadn’t tossed that damn powder at him. Its bitter scent still clung to his skin.

  How the fuck had Langdon known he was there? He’d been careful to stick close to Luc. But he’d been angry with Luc and terrified for Rosana. He must’ve been leaking emotion, especially when he found Rosana alone with the bastard.

  And now they were locked in an underground cell. His heart punched at his rib cage. A cold sweat prickled his skin.

  The Darktime.

  A dank cell concealed beneath Leron’s den. The clanmates who disappeared below never to be seen again. The pervasive scent of fear, as if it had soaked into the very stones.

  And the growing conviction that it was only a matter of time before Leron found an excuse to throw him in the cell…or worse, Marjani.

  The teenage Adric had tried to appease his uncle, but Leron had seen how the younger clan members turned to his nephew. Hell, he’d known before Adric that he was alpha material.

  So Leron had set out to break him.

  One by one, everyone Adric loved had been stolen from him. His dad. His mom. Jace’s sister. Until the only ones left were a few stubbornly loyal friends like Zuri, Jace, Luc—and Marjani.

  That was when his uncle had made his fatal mistake. Go after Adric, and he would’ve endured it until he was strong enough to challenge for alpha.

  But go after Marjani, and all bets were off.

  “It’s not your fault.” Rosana’s voice yanked him back to the present. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

  He unclenched his jaw, forced himself to inhale.

  “Yes, I do. Luc…was ordered…take me, not you. But when he saw you…figured he’d save me…give you to Blaer instead. Last night…should’ve made you…go home.”

  The caresses stopped. “So you knew Luc was outside your den.”

  “What?” His brow lowered. “No.”

  “Then this is on Luc, not you. You didn’t tell him to take me instead of you, did you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then how is it your fault?”

  He set a hand to his head. He knew he was right. Rosana wouldn’t be here if not for him. “You…my guest, in my territory…and…I’m alpha.”

  “Which makes you the leader, not a god. Luc isn’t even a member of your clan anymore.”

  He blinked. Nobody but Marjani took that no-nonsense tone with him.

  “Now shut up and rest.” Rosana touched her lips to his forehead. “Concentrate on healing. Because we need you better if we’re going to get out of here—and we are getting out of here.”

  His mouth quirked despite the swelling. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She was right. Beating up on himself wasn’t helping anything.

  He drew more deeply on his quartz to increase the rate of healing. It would drain the crystals, rendering them useless for a few hours, but it couldn’t be helped. In this condition, he was no use to anyone.

  He dozed, catlike, relaxed yet aware of his surroundings. Rosana was quiet, too, her hand resting on his shoulder.

  An hour or two passed before he opened his eyes, cautiously lifted his head. This time, the pain wasn’t so bad.

  “Luc?” His gaze skimmed the cell, confirming what he already knew. The wolf fada wasn’t with them.

  “He’s okay,” Rosana assured him. “When they took us away, he was just coming around. But I don’t know what they did with him.”

  “Probably sent him back to Blaer.”

  “Oh.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. Woman’s not right in the head.” Still—“Not right to drag you into this. When I found out…could’ve hurt him myself.”

  Rosana resumed stroking his face. He let out a grateful sigh. It felt so good.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “If I was under a geas to Blaer, I might’ve done the same thing. I saw how she treats him. She grabbed his quartz and it hurt. And she just smiled. She was feeding on his pain.”

  “Fuck.” His stomach clenched. Gods, he hated feeling so damn powerless. “If I could break the geas for him, I would.”

  But Luc had given his word. He’d serve out his time, or die. That’s how he was.

  Rosana squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  Taking her hand, he brought her fingers to his lips in silent thanks.

  She leaned down to brush her lips over his. “Thirsty?” When he dipped his chin in assent, she eased his head from her lap and reached for the cup. “Be right back.”

  Just moving that tiny amount sent another jolt through his skull. But he made himself turn over, then pushed himself up to sitting, slowly, painfully. Halfway up, his stomach rebelled at the change in position, and he had to pause to ride the nausea out. He set his teeth and breathed through it.

  By the time Rosana returned, he had his back against the wall, legs stretched in front of him. That was better. He felt more clear-headed. Less vulnerable.

  Taking the cup from her, he drained it with small, careful sips. “Thank you,” he said, handing it back.

  “Let’s see how that goes down,” she replied. “Then you can have more if you want.”

  When he nodded, Rosana got herself a drink and then sat beside him, arms hugging her bent legs. Outwardly calm, but her scent was sour with fear.

  He turned toward her, set a hand on her arm. That’s when he noticed the finger-sized bruises on her throat.

  He touched one of them. “Who did this?” he growled.

  She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “It was Luc, wasn’t it?”

  She jerked a shoulder.

  A dark rage balled his stomach.

  Rosana shot him an uneasy look. “They’re already better. If I could’ve shifted, the bruises would be almost gone by now.”


  He swallowed his anger, nodded. This was between him and Luc. But the man was going to pay for every mark he’d put on Rosana.

  For now, they had other worries, like the fact that Rosana was a river fada who’d been forcibly removed from her home waters. And on top of that, she couldn’t shift in this cramped, underground cell.

  “You need your river. How long—?”

  “I’m fine. The Chesapeake Bay isn’t far from here, and we’re right by the Potomac River. And this water”—she indicated the trickle coming from metal spout—“is spring water. Just splashing it on my face helped.”

  He frowned. She wasn’t lying, but he recognized a half-truth when he heard it. “Why not shift to your otter?”

  “If it comes to that, I guess I’ll try. But the dolphin is my preferred animal. I haven’t shifted to otter since I was a pup.”

  “So how long?”

  She groaned. “You’re like a pit bull sometimes, you know that?”

  “Rosana.”

  “Okay, okay. I need to immerse myself in fresh water, and even if I shifted to otter, I’d still be too large for that little trickle to do any good.”

  His stomach knotted. “How long?” he gritted. “One day? Two?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” She gave a half laugh. “It’s not like I’ve ever been locked up before. But I’m not going to shrivel up overnight. I have at least a few days, maybe longer, although I’ll start to feel it in a day or two.” She opened her mouth, shut it.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I have a feeling we’ve been in here longer than we realize—maybe even a day already. You know how time runs differently in a fae court.”

  He swore. “So you’re already feeling it?”

  Another jerk of her shoulder.

  “Just hang on, okay?” He gathered her to him. “Your brothers will come for you.”

  Dion and Tiago would tear apart heaven and earth to save Rosana.

  Like Adric would have for his sister—if he’d known those bastards had kidnapped her. But they’d smashed her quartz so she couldn’t call for help. By the time Adric had found out, it was too late. They’d had a whole night with her.

  He swallowed.

 

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