Chapter 13 #2
Slowly opening her eyes, Wynn wasn’t surprised to find that she was trapped in a dank dungeon with empty cells along one wall and the old-fashioned implements of torture piled on the other side.
Just as she wasn’t surprised to feel the manacles that were locked around her wrists and wedged into a stone wall behind her.
The only good news was that she suspected that she was still in England.
It wasn’t the familiar scent of the air or the magic that hummed beneath her feet that gave her hope.
It was the boring construction of the dungeon.
She’d spent more than a few nights in dank cells being tortured with hot pokers.
They all looked tediously similar.
Tossing back her hair that had unraveled from the braid during her violent trip through the fissure, Wynn took an inventory of her surroundings.
There were a couple of torches burning in the corners, but they didn’t offer more than a splotch of glowing light, leaving the majority of the room in shadows.
Without the ability to see in the dark, she couldn’t locate anyone in the dungeon with her, but she could sense them.
“I know you’re watching me, you sleazebag,” she called out.
It probably wasn’t super smart to challenge a demon who was powerful enough to create a rip in space, especially when she was chained to the wall, but she wasn’t in the mood to play nice.
She was in the mood to kick someone in the nuts. “Come out and face me like a man.”
There was a soft, musical laugh before a slender fey male stepped into the glow of torchlight.
He was taller than most fairies, with deep red hair that was cut short and carefully mussed to give him a sleepy, sexy vibe.
His eyes were green with flecks of gold and his features were finely chiseled.
He would have been beautiful if it wasn’t for the arrogant sneer that was perpetually attached to his lips.
Sir Pheral Gardner.
A member of the fey aristocracy who routinely dabbled in the black market, smuggled illegal goods, and treated his servants like slaves.
She’d had dealings with him off and on over the past century, but while she’d cheated him a few times and he’d cheated her even more times, they’d never been enemies. So why had he gone to the considerable effort to design a fissure to capture her?
“Ah, Wynn,” he drawled. “It’s good to know that time hasn’t dulled your sharp edges. The same obnoxious bitch I remember.”
“Pheral.” She flicked a dismissive glance over his expensive cashmere sweater and black slacks. He looked like he was headed out to dinner at The Ritz, not about to torture his latest captive.
“Miss me?”
“Like the plague.”
Pheral clicked his tongue, strolling closer. As he neared, his impressive emerald aura spilled across the flagstone floor.
“I thought we had something special.”
Wynn rolled her eyes. “The only thing special about you is your remarkable lack of anything resembling morals.”
He pressed a slender hand over his heart. “You wound me, love.”
Wynn snorted. “Just the opposite. I haven’t done anything to you, which is why I don’t understand why you kidnapped me.”
“It is a shame.” He halted a few inches from her, trailing a finger down the line of her jaw. “I always liked you, Wynn. Remember when we borrowed the queen’s carriage to escape from the horde of goblins chasing us?”
She didn’t have any trouble digging up the memory. It’d been a state banquet at Buckingham Palace with Queen Victoria and the Prince of Wales. The sort of swanky party that Wynn adored. Plus, a perfect opportunity to make a tidy fortune.
“They were chasing you, not me,” she reminded him in cold tones. “I was at the palace as a guest.”
He tapped the tip of her nose. “Liar. You were there to steal the opal pendant being worn by the mystic who was entertaining the guests.”
Wynn shrugged. No use pretending she hadn’t been there in a professional capacity. “Madame Swan claimed it allowed her to speak to the dead.”
“You didn’t believe that nonsense.”
“No, but my client did. And she was willing to pay whatever I asked to get her hands on it.” Wynn narrowed her eyes. “Then you ruined the detailed plot I’d spent weeks creating when you insulted Ambassador Bauer’s wife.”
“It’s not my fault she resembled the stuffed boar head mounted above the fireplace,” Pheral protested.
Wynn tilted her head away from his lingering touch. He might have been handsome and wealthy, but he’d always revolted her.
“You didn’t kidnap me to rehash our past, did you?”
His gaze lowered to her lips. “I wish, but sadly this is a business arrangement.”
A chill pierced Wynn’s heart. That was exactly what she feared. If she was just dealing with Pheral she could find a way to pay him off. The fairy was always for sale. Or better yet, she could use her skipping stones to escape.
But if he was doing this for someone else, then she was in trouble.
“Business with who?” she demanded.
“The mysterious creature who offered an impressive reward for anyone capable of capturing you. It’s taken a full year for you to finally wander into one of my traps. Where the hell have you been?”
Wynn ignored the question. She was more interested in the fact that whoever was searching for her must be in England. Did that mean she’d encountered the dragon magic while she was here? Maybe Azh was right. Maybe she had to go back to the beginning.
And where was that aggravating dragon? Was he looking for her?
With a shake of her head, she dismissed the pang of yearning to have Azh burst into the dungeon and sweep her away. She’d been taking care of herself for a long time. She didn’t need anyone to ride to the rescue.
Not even a gorgeous, sexy dragon.
She glowered at her captor. “There’s a reward out for me?”
“There’s always a reward out for you, love,” he reminded her. “But this one paid substantially more than usual.”
“Who’s offering it?”
“Malis.”
“Malis?” Wynn searched through her memories only to come up empty. “Should I recognize the name?”
“I didn’t,” Pheral confessed. “I never heard of him. Not until I found this hanging in my favorite gentlemen’s club.
” The fairy reached into the pocket of his slacks to pull out a folded piece of paper.
With a flick of his wrist, he had it snapped open to reveal a charcoal sketch of her along with a reward that was large enough to make her queasy.
Studying the sketch, Wynn frowned. It was a better-than-average likeness of her, but not from today.
Over the decades she hadn’t aged, but her face had matured and thinned while her hair had lightened from a mousy brown to a lighter shade of gold.
It was her eyes, however, that had changed the most dramatically.
They’d gone from a pale blue to a strange shade of lavender.
“What makes you think this is me?” she asked.
“I remember watching you beg on the street corner when you first arrived in London. I knew even then there was something different about you. I was right.”
Ew. She didn’t like the thought this creep had been keeping an eye on her when she was so young. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one.
“Fine. What did I do to this Malis?”
“I don’t know, but whatever it was must have been bad.” Pheral tossed aside the Wanted poster, a mocking smile playing around his lips. “You don’t offer that sort of reward unless you’re truly pissed.”
No shit. A shiver raced through Wynn.
“It’s a lot,” she agreed, “but I can match it.”
Pheral rolled his eyes. “Right.”
“It’s true. I can also add in a bonus if you return me to London tonight.”
He pursed his lips, pretending to consider her offer.
“Tempting, and not just because of the bonus. I don’t like the thought of you being tortured and killed, Wynn.
You were always causing some sort of delightful chaos.
I’ve never seen my fellow demons so flustered as when they were trying to figure out who had stolen some rare artifact or scrambling to get invited to one of the underground auctions when those same artifacts went up for sale.
It’s sad but true that the city is boring when you’re not around. ”
She held his gaze even as she concentrated on the strands of magic inside her. She located the only strand that might help her. A pale-yellow magic that would create tiny fractures in the stone wall behind her. It was her best hope of tugging the manacles free.
“Then let me go,” she said.
“I can’t.”
She tapped into the magic, frustration blasting through her when nothing happened.
“I told you I would pay,” she reminded the fairy, an edge of desperation in her voice. “I have the money—”
“It’s not that,” Pheral interrupted.
“Then what do you want?”
“To survive long enough to enjoy my rare stroke of good luck. Something I doubt would happen if I released you.”
“You’re scared?” Wynn taunted, trying to hide her own stab of fear. She’d seen this fairy fight his way through a rabid pack of goblins with nothing but a hexed dagger with a smile on his lips.
What could make him turn away from a promise of more money?
“Damned right, I’m scared,” he admitted. “When I called the number on the poster to say I’d captured you I could feel the demon’s power.” He grimaced. “It gave me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Through the phone?”
“I can’t explain it, but I’m not stupid enough to ignore what I felt. I’m going to get my money and disappear.”
Wynn sent him a glare, still struggling to release her magic. Dammit. Now wasn’t the time for a dud.
“Coward,” she accused.
“Guilty.” Pheral stepped closer, once again running his fingers down the line of her jaw. “But the mystery demon warned me it might take some time for him to get here. We might as well have some fun until then.”
Wynn gagged in disgust. “Fun?”
“You’re a beautiful woman and I don’t mind your vicious attitude.” He traced her lips. “I think sassy females are sexy.”
Wynn clenched her muscles. She was going to knee the bastard hard enough to knock his balls into his throat. Her leg was lifting when she felt the sudden tingle of magic trying to breech her barriers. She froze, recognizing the spell. Pheral had his famed hexed dagger hidden beneath his sweater.
The hex had been created by a powerful fey who’d used blood sacrifices to infuse the blade with the magic. Usually she was careful to avoid absorbing that sort of magic. There was always the risk of being cursed when a spell was created at the moment of death.
Now, she was willing to take a chance.
Lowering her shields, Wynn allowed the magic to seep into her, creating a thick twisted strand that looked dead next to the other vibrant weaves of power. Despite its appearance, Wynn could feel the dull, heavy thud of magic.
Queasiness rolled through her stomach, but she forced herself to continue absorbing the hex.
“Sassy?” she forced herself to ask, lowering her leg. The closer the dagger was to her, the quicker she could deplete the magic.
Unaware he was losing his most treasured possession, Pheral wrapped his fingers around her neck.
“Sassy and mouthy and unpredictable.”
“I get that a lot.” The fingers tightened around her neck. Wynn had heard that this male enjoyed hurting his lovers. Even killing them during sex.
“Probably because it’s true.”
The thick stench of the fairy’s arousal nearly choked Wynn. “Are you going to release me so I can participate?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You don’t need your hands for what I’m going to do to you.”
“And what’s that?”
“This.” The fingers tightened until Wynn could barely breathe as Pheral rubbed his stiff cock against her hip. “You like that?” He pretended her shudder of disgust was pleasure. “Yeah, you do. I’m going to...”
His rough words faded as the dungeon was filled with a weird, greenish glow. Visibly confused, the fairy released his hold on Wynn and started to turn toward the entrance.
He was still moving when a dart of green magic appeared from the darkness, arrowing straight at Pheral’s head. Wynn thought she heard him gasp in pain, but there was no other sound as the fairy crumpled to the floor, his dead eyes staring up at Wynn with grim resignation.
Wynn parted her lips and screamed.