25
Sliding back through the veil, I fought hard against the hands, kicking out, striking with my elbows and fists, but what I hit was so solid there didn’t seem to be any response to my blows.
As my body was once more fully on the other side of the veil, I was flung deep into the dungeon, well over twenty feet. The stone floor was not forgiving when I slammed into it, landing on my right hip. Rolling, I scrambled to my feet to face the one who’d pulled me through.
Or should I say, what pulled me through. A hulking shape stood between me and the entry point to the cave. It was over eight feet tall and while it had arms, legs and a body, it was not human. Too big, to strange of a shape. Like a puzzle that had its pieces jammed together, despite not really fitting. I couldn’t even tell what kind of supernatural it was. Like some sort of supernatural mutt, it didn’t fit in anywhere.
Milly’s voice echoed through to me. “Rylee?”
“Stay there, it’s between us.” What ‘it’” was, I wasn’t sure exactly. But it was big enough that it filled the space up from floor to ceiling, and its long arms dangled to the floor with thick muscled hands. In the shadows, it was hard to see just what the skin colour was, or any distinguishing marks, other than the fact that it was dark, stunk, and had a menace to it that I could feel vibrating between the two of us. I pulled my sword and advanced on the creature.
“Come on, big boy, you don’t really want to stop me from crossing the veil, do you?” My voice was as sugary sweet as I could manage.
It leaned forward, its face coming into a slant of light from the single flickering wall sconce. There were no eyes, no nose, just a mouth—one that dripped with slime and had very sharp teeth. I steadied myself for a charge, prepped to dodge around the hulking beast and duck back through the veil. But it just held its ground and didn’t move, though at least it didn’t advance, either.
I shifted my grip on my sword, prepping for a fight, and in that split second, it attacked.
I’d heard the term greased lightning, but had never truly seen it. The beast, as big as it was, slid past my guard and slammed me into the wall. Thick hands pinned my arms to the stone. My head clunked backwards, and no matter how I struggled, I couldn’t loosen the grip. The last of the stitches in my arm ripped out and blood trickled down my arm.
“Come on.” This was it? The end of Rylee Adamson would come at the mouth of some unknown, unnamed beast? But it didn’t end my life, didn’t even try to bite me. Just held me tight against the wall.
Light bloomed over its shoulder and the now familiar cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows. Icy blue eyes perused me with leisure.
“You and your friends have quite the knack for trouble, Ms. Adamson. But all that aside, you and I need to chat.” He paused in the middle of lifting his hand to his cowl. “May I call you Rylee? It seems to me we are about to become far more acquainted than what one would think relegated us to last names.”
Panic is a bad thing in my profession—it causes loss of life faster than any other emotion—and it rapidly coursed through me. He’d spelled me in a matter of moments before. I closed my eyes and centered myself.
A hand brushed along my cheek. “So soft,” he murmured, his voice close enough that I could feel his breath against my skin. The beast holding me did nothing, and I did the only thing I could think of. I reached out to it, connecting with its emotions.
Confusion, fear, loneliness.
Anger.
Bingo. I let it feel my anger, let it feed off my emotion, pushing my fear into it until I felt the spell holding it under the cloaked man’s control crack.
Hands that had been holding me tight clenched and my bones creaked under the pressure, but I grit my teeth and tried to remain still.
“Rylee, look at me.” His voice triggered something visceral in me. Fear and lust, a powerful aphrodisiac that spiraled upward. The pain in my arms increased, though, and it curbed whatever spell the man was trying to cast on me. I kept my eyes closed. “No, thanks. I like my soul where it is.”
“I’m not a thief of souls. You intrigue me; you aren’t like any of the others. Not a witch, not a vampire, not a werewolf. But you have such talent.” His lips brushed against my ear, the soft inhale of breath sending shivers through me. With everything I had, I shoved emotion into the beast, letting my panic infect it—or at least, that’s what I’d hoped for. Milly would come for me. O’Shea wouldn’t leave me here.
“I’ve blocked the entrance; you’re friends will not be coming for you,” he said, as if he were reading my mind, which only heightened my fear. “Do you know I was the one who gave the child the ability to reach you? That I was the one to suggest the date and the park to steal her from? I knew you would follow her here no matter what, and with the connections to your little sister . . . well, this child would be one I knew you would search for with a drive that would surpass all your other “salvages.”
The panic I’d been feeling was now full blown and I struggled, unable to stop my body from trying to escape a fate I knew would somehow be worse than if he was just going to kill me. He’d set me up, he’d done all this to get me here. I continued to push my panic into the beast holding me.
The air around us stilled, it grew heavy, and then the shit hit the proverbial fan.
The beast let out a mind-numbing roar, flinging its hands off me and, in doing so, sent the cloaked man tumbling through the air. My feet slid to the ground and I sprinted toward the stairs. I could only hope he hadn’t locked down both of the entrances.
Heavy thuds resounded behind me, a screech shook the castle foundations, and then silence for a split second.
“RYLEE!” His voice struck a chord through to my bones. My feet stuttered, and I slowed.
I needed help, badly. Reaching out, I tapped into the person who’d stepped between me and the cloaked man before.
“O’Shea.” I whimpered, and locked onto his emotions. The intensity of his feelings stung me, sharper than any child’s would ever be. Fear overridden by true concern, focus, wanting to do the right thing. I held onto him like I would a life raft in rough seas and started to run again. The stairs blurred by. I passed the initiation room and found myself in the hallway where I could see the doorway.
Heart firing like a jack rabbit on Speed, I fumbled at the handle, and it was the split second mistake he needed to catch up to me, pinning me to the door with his body.
“You were just going to run out on me?” His voice was no longer a soft seduction, but a deadly ice that made my mouth dry.
“You seemed busy,” I said, unable to turn off my bitch switch. He tried to flip me around to face him, but I fought even that. I was so close to escape. Suddenly, I knew how the children being snatched must have felt. He handled me as if I was a child, his movements sure and steady as I flailed, using every trick I knew in an attempt to escape, knowing all along I couldn’t fight him forever. He just had to wait me out. Screaming, I knew I was losing, his deceiving calm holding back the anger brewing beneath the façade. All my training, all the strength I’d built on over the years, was nothing to him.
“F*ck!” I knew he almost had me. I could feel my resistance to him slowing. For all I was worth, I clung to O’Shea’s emotions.
“Let go of him.”
“No.”
“Do as I say, Rylee.” His words were so insistent; I wanted to do as he asked. I wanted to please him.
My body shivered, caught between the two men. I had nothing left to fight, and his lips covered mine, his tongue plunging into the depths of my mouth. Power flowed between us, and he ground his hips into mine, his desire obvious. I wasn’t Milly, but I knew an out when one was given to me. Still hanging onto O’Shea’s emotions, I kissed the cloaked man back until his arms went around me, sliding down over my hips, cupping my ass against his ever hardening body.
His hands started to strip me out of my clothes and at that moment, I sensed his loss of control. He couldn’t f*ck me and keep a handle on my psyche at the same time. Still, I kept my eyes closed. I didn’t want to see his eyes, those icy blue eyes that sucked me in like some sort of vortex. I had a feeling if I looked him in the face, no amount of control lost on his part would save me.
Instead, I started to strip the cloak off him, pulling it over his head, and the horny fool let me. Like a hockey player starting a fight, I lifted the cloak up, got it halfway over his head, tangled it, and shoved him backwards, kicking out at his left knee. The joint gave way under my foot, and he screamed. Thank you, Doran, for that little gem.
I spun, yanked the door open and tumbled through into the caves. Without a goddamned light. All the Coven members were dead, so all of their Witchlights were out.
In the pitch black, I was unable to see my hand, let alone know where I was going. But, I had a plan. In a manner of speaking.
The plan was to follow along the edge of the wall until I hit the bodies of the two witches we’d killed. If the woman was still alive she could make a witch light; if she wasn’t, surely one of them would have something on them I could use. Surely.
Of course, three steps in and the door behind me opened. The man—sorcerer—whatever the f*ck he was, was right behind me. With a light. Well, that would work. I bolted down the cavern with him right on my tail. Even with his busted leg, he was fast. The upside was he was no longer trying to control me. The downside was that I knew if he wasn’t trying to control me, he was going to try and kill me.
Arms pumping, sweat dripping down the side of my face, I could taste the dusty cavern on the back of my tongue with each desperate breath I took. Fingers grazed the back of my jeans giving me an extra spurt of adrenaline.
We raced through the cavern and turned a corner that turned into a near spill for me. As I looked up from my scramble, I could see the harness dangling, like Manna from heaven.
Three feet away, I leapt for it and started to climb, but he was too close and latched onto my ankle before I could get out of reach.
“We’re not done yet, Rylee.”
I didn’t answer, and just kicked out with my free foot, catching him in the forehead, snapping his head back. A flash of white fangs and those icy blue eyes made me scream.
Vampire, he was a vampire.
The rope was nearly yanked out of my hands as someone began to haul me up. I fought my urge to flee and the urge to drop back to the ground to try to finish him off. Berget, my Berget, had been taken by vampires.
Self preservation kicked in and I clung to the rope as it—and I—were pulled to the surface. Hanging from the rope, I had time to think, time to ponder. But I did nothing. I let my mind go blank, let my fear hold me onto the rope for the lifeline it was. I was yanked from the mineshaft and slapped into handcuffs. My Miranda rights read to me. My mind numb. I was unable to believe what had just happened, and I didn’t fight them.
From below, the vampire called up to me. “I’m not what you think I am, Rylee. But not to worry, we’ll meet again. I promise you that.”
For the first time in my life, I was grateful for the police. Of course, at that particular moment they were arresting me for multiple murders of FBI agents, not to mention I was in league with the rogue former FBI Agent O’Shea, and being accused of being the leader of a kidnapping ring. The moon had risen since we’d been in the mineshaft, the soft light picked up the blood more effectively than if we saw it under the bright light of the day. Even to me, it seemed surreal, and I was used to the weird and supernatural side of the world.
They shoved me into an armoured transport vehicle, two FBI agents in with me, their guns visible and their hatred of me, a cop killer in their eyes, obvious. I didn’t care. At that point, all I wanted was to sleep, and I knew a jail would be as safe, or safer, than any place I could find. The one bright side was that I knew O’Shea and Milly would get the two kids to safety, and with that thought tumbling through my mind, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.