Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
CHERYL
ELLNESARI, PRESENT DAY
T he jostling motion of a cart going over rough terrain wakes me from a disturbing dream.
Masked men stormed the room I was in and took Ronan and me captive.
I can’t see anything in front of me, and when I try to move, I’m restrained.
My hands are bound behind my back, and my legs are tied at the ankles.
It takes me a second to understand it wasn’t a dream. Ronan and I were captured for real.
My brain is fuzzy, but the memories slowly come to the surface.
I was recovering from an injury caused by a giant hornet.
I’m not sure where we were exactly, but I heard Ronan speaking to me.
He said he loved me, that he has always loved me, since the first time we met.
I don’t dare to hope what I heard is true.
It sounds more like a dream than reality.
I can’t see where I am, but I know Ronan is lying next to me. His heartbeat is steady, which means he’s not awake yet. I move closer to him, something that’s hard to do with my legs and arms bound. But I manage to nudge his leg with my knees.
“Ronan,” I whisper, glad our captors didn’t gag me on top of everything.
“Hmm…” He makes a sound deep in his throat.
“Ronan, wake up.”
“Cheryl?” His pulse accelerates. He’s awake, and thus aware we’re screwed.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yes, and you?”
“I’m fine. Do you remember what happened? My memories aren’t the sharpest at the moment.”
“Three Nightingales stormed the room we were in and took us captive. I can’t believe I trusted that female.”
“What female?”
“The healer. She must have turned us in, or it was her nephew, the soldier from the Aquila army who she swore wouldn’t betray us.”
“I have disjointed memories, but it didn’t seem like the males who took us were soldiers. They looked like criminals.”
“Either way, we were betrayed,” he grumbles.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to break free, but whatever they used to bind my hands isn’t yielding.”
The rocking motion stops. Ronan and I grow quiet and wait. There’s no point announcing to our captors that we’re awake.
Light invades the area we’re in, and it penetrates the weave of fabric covering my head. It’s not enough to enable me to see my surroundings, though.
“Are they still unconscious?” one of the assholes asks.
I force my body to go slack, which is hard when I’m tense as hell. But it’s better if they believe we won’t try to escape anytime soon. Not that we aren’t at their mercy—blindfolded and with our hands and feet bound.
“Yes. They’re still out cold.”
“I told you the dosage in those darts was too high. I hope you didn’t damage the goods. We need these specimens in top shape.”
My fangs descend automatically. Specimens? Do they think we’re animals? I’m fucking angry, and I also feel Ronan’s fury swirling in my chest. These Nightingale fuckers don’t know who they’ve messed with.
Someone grabs me roughly and tosses me over their shoulder as if I’m a sack of potatoes. I’m glad I’m fully dressed. I know my shirt was ruined when I was attacked, but the Nightingale healer must have given me a new top to wear.
Ronan believes she or her nephew betrayed us, but I’m not sold on that idea. Maybe someone saw us being taken to the healer’s house.
Without the use of my eyes, I turn to my other senses to get an idea of our location.
We’re near the shore, I’m sure of it. The distinct scent of salt mingles with exotic spices and something sharper—maybe the resin used to waterproof ship hulls.
In the distance, I hear birds that remind me of seagulls, and the lazy sound of water slapping against boats that almost matches ocean waves, but not quite, as if the tide here follows different rules.
The light penetrating my blindfold dims, and the noises I picked up become faint. We’re inside a building, and I notice different smells—wood, incense, and a hint of sweetness, maybe from local fruits.
“Mascar, I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” a female with a melodic voice says. “It hasn’t been but a day since you left to the mortal lands.”
Wait. What?
“It turns out, my lady, there was no need to make the crossing this time. I’ve found two prime specimens right here in Ellnesari,” the male carrying me replies, then sets me down with surprising gentleness.
“Two vampires? Here in Ellnesari? How is that possible?”
“I don’t know, my lady. We received a tip they were hiding at the healer’s house in Featherlight Village.”
Light footsteps approach, barely making the wooden floorboards creak with the weight. The sack covering my head is removed, and it’s hard to keep from moving my eyelids.
“She looks in good health.” The female touches my healing back and sighs. “Hellionflare wound. I’m surprised she didn’t die.”
“That means she’s a strong specimen,” a new male chimes in. His voice is coarse, old. “We need those.”
“Yes, Papa.” The female moves away from me, but she doesn’t go far. If I were to guess, she’s inspecting Ronan now.
“Oh, this one is a beautiful male.”
Fucking bitch. I open my eyes and catch her ogling Ronan as if he’s someone she’d like to ride. Before I can stop myself, I snarl. The female spins around and almost trips on the skirt of her long dress. Her perfect tanned skin seems to go ashen as she stares at me with round eyes.
“What sort of aberration is she?”
Ah hell. I must have partially shifted. I would have gone wolf all the way if I thought I could escape and take Ronan with me. But we’re in an enclosed space and surrounded by the enemy. I could flee if I was alone, but there’s no chance I’ll leave Ronan behind. If he stays, I stay.
The newcomer looks as old and ragged as he sounds. His long white hair is thinning, and his face resembles melted cheese. He looks like a hundred-year-old human, not an immortal.
Unlike his daughter, he doesn’t stare at me with fear or disgust. He’s intrigued as he approaches me. “You aren’t a vampire, are you, child?”
“Who are you calling a child, old creep?”
“Stay the hell away from her!” Ronan roars.
The old Nightingale looks at Ronan and smiles. “Ah, a warrior. Finally, a specimen worth the bags of blood.”
The three jackasses who took us look smug as fuck. If I wasn’t bound, I would wipe the smirks off their odious faces.
“You did well, Mascar,” the old male continues. “Very well.”
“What do you want with us?” Ronan asks, trying to break free of his bindings.
“You’ll know in good time. You must feed and rest first. Nisha, make arrangements for our new acquisitions. I want them to have the best accommodations.”
“Yes, Papa.” She bows her head, then signals for the guards nearby to grab us.
I fight their hold and try to bite the hand of one who gets too close.
“You might need to gag the female. She’s a feisty one,” the old asshole says.
The idea of staying in captivity doesn’t sit well with my wolf. She takes over, and I shift. The bindings snap in the process. I jump on top of the closest guard and bite his shoulder. He screams, trying to dislodge me, but I’m much stronger than he is.
“Papa, do something!” the female screeches.
A pair of hands yanks me off the guard, then comes the burn of another dart pricking me. My eyelids become heavy once more, and the last thing I see is Ronan’s desperate face.