King Tomb (Forever Evermore, #3)

I pushed back on the bed with my hands and feet, too fucking wasted for this, attempting to get to my weapons. Wrong. I had been fucking wrong on many levels with this asshole. First, he was a fucking Vampire, not a Shifter. And second, he had got me stoned and drunk to take me down easier. This whole damn thing had been planned perfectly on his part.

“Goddammit!” I screamed when he caught my ankles, yanking me back. I scrambled with my hands on the bed and barely managed to grab my coat before I felt— “Ow! Fuck!” He was hooking silver cuffs around my ankles, and a burning sensation quickly sizzled through my entire body, my powers gone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. You fucking asshole!”

Withering on the bed, I stuffed my hand into the pocket of my coat when he blurred back to his dresser, managing to hit Antonio’s number on speed dial. Thank fuck, he answered just as the Vampire flew back at me with more silver flashing, and I stated hurriedly, “King Shadow. Need help.” My phone was smacked away and my world spun as he flipped me onto my belly. Dizziness ruled my vision, even though I was sure I was not moving any longer — but my head felt like it had taken an unplanned ride on a merry-go-round on crack. I screamed when he yanked my arms behind my back and slapped the silver cuffs on my wrists, my whole body instantly drained and on fire at the same time. “You’re fucking dead, Vamp.”

He jerked back a hand full of my hair. Coherent and lucid green eyes stared an inch from my face. “Shut the fuck up.” The next second a precisely placed massive fist hammered into the side of my face, and my world went black.





Chapter Four


I jerked awake, my body quaking. It felt like fire scalded my skin, even while an icy, burning prison kept my powers contained. Two vicious sensations I hoped to never feel again. My hands were now stretched above my head, trapped inside silver cuffs. My ankles were also still incased in silver cuffing, and my toes, still in my purple socks, barely touched the floor, giving me no added support. Another shudder racked my body, sweat misting on my skin as I gritted my teeth and lifted my head.

A quick assessment showed I was underground in a holding room for interrogations, just like the one in my old camp underneath headquarters. The room was tiny and circular, the walls made purely of brown dirt. Only two golden sparks of Mage magic in front and behind me provided lighting. The air was chilly down here, but the sparks provided no added warmth for me, clad in only the bra and underwear the asshole Vampire had made fun of.

And said asshole was sitting directly in front of me on a simple wooden chair, still shirtless, his long legs stretched out in front of him encased in his black cargos. Next to him sat a tiny wooden table with all kinds of silver and metal ‘fun items’ I enjoyed using myself during interrogation/torture sessions. Arms crossed, his head cocked, he lifted a black boot and shoved the side of my leg, making me grunt and grab at the chain holding my arms up, but it was silver too, so I quickly released it, bearing down as my wrists took all the pressure of my body swinging back and forth like a pendulum.

His eyes tracked mine as I swung back and forth. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions.” He kicked my leg again as I started to slow. “And it will go immensely easier if you answer each question immediately.”

I bared my teeth. “And…fuck you.” I wasn’t telling this asshole shit. Antonio would be here soon, which meant my fist would be through this guy’s handsome face shortly.

He ignored me, standing to his feet. He perused his torture devices and settled on a simple, thin silver knife, which honestly, was also one of my favorites to draw out the pain when I knew someone was going to be particularly hard to crack. I would probably be flattered if I wasn’t already in agonizing torment.

He moved closer, standing directly in front of me as my body quit swinging. Oddly, I almost smiled since his body radiated heat, warming me a bit…even if I knew he was going to bring the pain. “First question.” He placed the knife between my breasts, and I breathed in heavily through my nostrils from the silver’s direct contact with my flesh, the feeling like an open flame as he trailed the knife downward, over the center of my bra, between my ribs, to directly above my belly button. “What is your name?”

“You comma Fuck.”

Green eyes as dead as mine lifted from where they had followed the knife’s journey to its resting place. They met, and held, mine. Slowly, he pressed the tip of the knife into my flesh. I shakily breathed in once through my nose and out through my mouth as he continued pressing the six inch blade into my stomach, my muscles trembling. Again, he asked, “Your name?”

Whispering harshly, I stated, “Now, you’ll have to add Miss to that Fuck You.”