I turned into another hall as I pulled out my phone, my feet picking up pace. My heart beat erratically as hate and anger fluctuated through me in a surge that only hyper-activated my magic.
The phone rang in my ear as I ran, the loud thrum vibrating through my head and mixing with the frantic beat of my heart.
"Pick up," I growled to myself, turning a corner as I made my way towards a seldom-used row of apartments. "Pick up, Jos! Jos, pick up the phone!”
“Wynifred! What’s going on?” I had never been so happy to hear Ilyan's voice. I could have kissed him, cried into him, and thanked him for saving us, but I knew he couldn't save us. I wasn't calling for a savior; I was calling with a warning.
“Ilyan? Oh thank heavens!” I yelled into my phone, one knot in my stomach loosening while another one tightened.
“Wynifred?” Ilyan boomed, his commanding voice seeping into me through the phone. “Where is Talon?”
“They got him, Ilyan," I panted as I ran, my eyes threatening tears. I would not cry, not right now. I hated that Ilyan asked the one question that would trigger the emotion in me right now. "They took him. I think...”
I turned from the darkened hallway into a place that was never used, a place I had hoped I could hide, only to find my father standing in the middle of the dark stone walled room. My words dropped off my tongue as I saw him there; the fear that twisted through me lessening my power for a moment. It was a moment too long.
A loud crack echoed through my ears as a powerful attack impacted on my spine and sent me across the large room to collide with the rock wall in front of me. My head hit the wall, my bones and joints rattling hard enough to vibrate through me in a claw of pain. The pressure increased as I hung there, Timothy and Ovailia’s laughter loud in the quiet space.
“No! Please don’t!” I screamed, feeling them come right up behind me. The force on me increased and my scream followed, louder this time.
“Father! Please don’t!" I shouldn't beg. I knew it was pointless. "Don’t let them hurt me.”
The words left my mouth and I was flung through the air again, my hands sparking as I attempted to find someone, anyone, to attack. But the movement was too quick, the flight too short, and before I knew it, I was stretched out on the hard floor, my father restraining my hands above my head and Ovailia standing over me in an oppressive straddle.
I looked away, desperate to see anything other than the wicked sneer of the blonde above me, only to see the still lit screen of the cell phone reflecting off the dark stone.
“Ilyan!” I screamed, knowing I may not be allowed to live after this point, and hoping that my last warning was not my final goodbye. Ovailia's eyes went wide, her head whipping around in fear as I yelled her brother's name.
"Run!" I yelled.
It did not take her long to locate the light, one pulse of her magic destroying the small box. I only hoped my warning had reached them before the line had gone dead.
"Nice try," Ovailia said, her voice heavy with indifference and anger. "But sadly, I don't think it’s going to work." She smiled, and her face lit up like a maniac. Ilyan would get the same light when going into battle, but instead of giving hope, this one twisted my spine and rippled through my stomach.
I ground the feeling down to my toes, letting it come to rest inside of me in a place that I didn't care about, and squared my jaw at her.
"You have no idea what you are up against," I snarled, happy to see her recoil a bit at my taunt.
"Oh, don't I now?" she said, her crazed energy coming right back into her face. I heard my father laugh from above me, the pressure on my arms increasing as he pulled them, the tendons in my shoulders pulled to their brink. I winced, even though I tried not to, and Ovailia laughed right alongside my father, the ringing of her cell phone drowning out the noise.
"I think I know exactly what I am up against," she said as she pulled the phone from the pocket of her designer jeans. Timothy's hold on my hands lessened as one of his hands moved down to cover my mouth.
"Now, princess," he said, the once sweet pet name spoken with acid, "don't try anything stupid." His hand cupped the entire lower half of my face, the pressure arching my neck back and making it difficult to breathe while also pushing my head painfully into the stone floor. I fought against him, yelled against his palm, but the pressure of his hand hurt worse the more I fought. I stopped struggling with a whimper.
"Nothing stupid," Timothy repeated before increasing his grip even more. I winced and breathed in sharply but kept my mouth shut.
Ovailia smiled at me before putting the phone to her ear, her face and voice changing the second the line connected.
“Ilyan? Ilyan, where are you?" Ovailia said, her voice thin as she pushed emotion into it. "Please tell me you are all right.”