How to Tame a Beast in Seven Days (The Embraced #1)

“I like them pretty.” A ghost giggled with a manic, high-pitched tone that chilled her to the bone.

By the goddesses, that one sounded mentally unhinged. Once again she struggled against the panic flaring inside her. “The Lord Protector won’t let you get away with this.”

The priest waved a dismissive hand. “He’s far away. While I was hiding down here, I planned it all out. First, the castle guards will look for you. And then, they’ll send an envoy to let your father and husband know you’re missing. By the time the Beast can ride back to Vindemar, I’ll be gone.”

Father Rune sighed. “Such a shame that I’ll miss it, but I can imagine how it will unfold. Your rescuers will rush through the dark tunnels of the catacombs, desperate to save you, and there in the distance a single torch, a shining beacon, will illuminate you, the damsel in distress. Then the Beast will charge toward you.”

Father Rune motioned to two thin threads stretched across the corridor about a foot above the stone floor. In the dim light, they were barely visible. “Whoever trips the first wire will release a dozen arrows. The second wire will release a dozen more. I’m hoping, of course, that your husband will be among the dead.”

Luciana tightened her grip on the bars. In the seven days since she’d first met Leo, she’d grown to love him so much. She couldn’t bear to lose him. He wouldn’t die if she warned them about the trap, but she didn’t want to tell Father Rune that. He might decide to gag her or tie her up. So she gave him what she hoped was a forlorn, defeated look. “Why are you doing this?”

“It’s very simple. The king pays well.” The priest shrugged. “Of course, it’s possible that the Beast will survive this. But if he hunts me down, I’ll be ready with another trap. Sooner or later, the Beast will die.”

“Never. Leo is too smart for you.”

Father Rune chuckled. “You actually like him, don’t you? Well, you can always pray that he won’t find you here. Then he would be safe. But if that happens, you’ll be left here to die a slow death.” He sauntered away with the torch. “The Light be with you.”

As he disappeared around a corner, the room became darker, now lit by only one torch behind her.

“We’re alone with her now,” a ghost whispered, and a draft of cold air enveloped her.

There had to be half a dozen of them that surrounded her. One ghost had clearly died from a chest wound. The one with a snake voice appeared to have been hanged, for a line of mottled bruises crossed his throat. She closed her eyes briefly to keep from looking at them.

“So pretty.” The high-pitched giggle grated on her nerves.

A shot of cold penetrated her chest as the manic giggler tried to grope her breasts. She backed away, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I think she can feel usss,” the hanged man whispered.

“I hope she’s been left here to die,” the one with a chest wound said. “Once she becomes a ghost like us, we’ll be able to touch her.”

Another giggle. “If she dies, I’m fucking her first.”

Goddesses, help me! Luciana looked frantically about. There. A rib bone with a sharp, pointed end. She grabbed it and inserted the point into the opening on the padlock.

“Hey, that’s mine!” the hanged ghost protested.

The padlock refused to open. She grabbed a stronger thigh bone and wedged it into the iron loop that connected the padlock to the gate. If she could wrench the lock off the gate, she could escape. After a few heaves, the brittle old bone snapped in two.

The padlock was too strong. She examined the hinges, then each bar, searching for a weakness.

“Luciana! I found you!”

She whirled toward Christopher with a surge of relief, then a realization that she must have alerted the ghosts that she could see and hear them.

“Crispin, you ugly piece of toast.” The ghost with the chest wound pushed the boy so hard he stumbled back. “What are you doing here?”

The hanged ghost caught Christopher from behind and gripped his neck as if to strangle him. “Too bad you’re already dead, and we can’t kill you.”

“Look!” A ghost who carried a severed head in the crook of his arm pointed at Luciana. “She can see us.”

Luciana turned away, but it was already too late.

The chest-wounded ghost sneered. “Then she can watch us beat up the boy.”

“I think we should bugger him,” the giggler announced.

“Christopher, leave!” Luciana shouted.

The boy pulled away from the hanged ghost. “I don’t want to leave you here.”

“Tell my mother and sister I’m here. Please go!” Luciana exhaled in relief when he disappeared.

“Bitch!” Chest-Wound snarled at her. “You took away our fun.”

The giggler floated toward her, grinning. “Let’s grope her till she screams.”

Luciana grabbed the broken femur and whirled in a circle, slicing it through the ghosts. “Back off!”

“How can you make us?” Severed-Head smirked.

She tried the tactic that had worked on the dead Captain Bougaire. “When I’m rescued, I’ll track down all your families and make them suffer!”

The ghosts chuckled, the giggler two octaves higher.

“You think we care what happens to the living?” Chest-Wound smirked as he pointed at the hanged ghost. “Why do you think they executed him?”

Hanged-Man grinned. “I killed my wife and baby.”

“Let’s get her!” the giggler announced, and the gang of ghosts closed in.

“I’m a witch!” Luciana tried a new strategy. “I’ll put a curse on you for all eternity!”

They paused.

“C-can she do that?” Giggler asked.

“We’re already dead,” Chest-Wound growled. “What can one witch do to us?”

“How about two witches?” Luciana’s mother asked as her form solidified.

“The duchessss,” Hanged-Man hissed, and they all floated back.

“Leave her be,” Ariana ordered. “Or I’ll have my husband clean all the bones out of here, throw them in the sea, and fill these tunnels with sand.”