Chapter 26 – Farrah
Iwake up and find myself in a hot, dark room.
My eyes flutter, attempting to fight off this groggy feeling, but it’s as if a haze has settled over my vision. My head aches, like pressure is building within.
I'm nauseous, and my mouth is dry as fuck.
The small windows are all covered, but a sliver of light shines through. I’m not sure how long I’ve been passed out, but when I left to meet my father for dinner, the sun hadn’t set. So, either that means it’s still the same day or I’ve been asleep since yesterday.
Maybe it’s a streetlight?
I find a lamp on the bedside table and turn it on. The bright light sends a ripple of pain through my head, so I hold up my hand to cover my eyes while allowing my vision to adjust.
Forcing myself to sit up, I scan the room. At least it’s not a scary dungeon or some haunted basement.
I mean, I think I’m still in a basement but not a scary haunted one.
The urge to throw up grows, and I spot a glass of water on the table next to the bed where I was dumped. I grab it, all but inhaling the warm liquid. I’m too thirsty to worry about the water being poisoned. If my father and brother wanted me dead, I would be already.
I can’t understand why they captured me like I’m a monster—
Wait.
No.
Deans words before I passed out…
They’ve found out I’m aligned with monsters. They’ve captured me to be used as bait. Because they know the gargoyles will come looking for me.
Fuck.
Shit.
I’m going to puke. I stand and scan the room again, searching for a place to vomit.
A bucket in the corner catches my eye, and I run over just in time to spew the contents of my stomach—which isn’t much since I was too nervous about meeting with my father and couldn’t eat the bowl of cereal I poured before leaving the apartment.
It was all a setup.
The pain in my head returns when I stand, and I reach my hand up to feel around my skull. My fingertips graze over a bump on the side.
What the hell? How did I get this? Did they do this to me? My own family?
I’m clearly concussed if the nausea and throwing up is any indication.
The door opens suddenly, and I run back to the bed. I search around, looking for anything that can be used as a weapon, and decide the alarm clock is my best bet.
I hold it up high but when a head of curly red hair peeks around the door, green eyes widening, I set the clock back on the table.
“Oh, hi. You’re awake,” the woman says. She steps in and uses her hip to close the door behind her since she’s carrying a tray. “I have food for you.”
She sets it on the dresser near the door, refusing to get close to me.
“It’s a turkey sandwich and chips. Your brother said you like mayo and mustard on it. I brought you more water too.”
She waves her hand at the tray, then turns to leave.
“Who are you?” I ask, stopping her from opening the door.
She glances over her shoulder, regret filling her eyes.
The woman is a big girl like me but taller. She seems older, or maybe my age. Her hair is up in a half-do with the rest falling halfway down her back. There’s not a lot of light in the room, but I’m still able to see the splattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
She buries her hands in the material of her clothes, one fisting the black tank top and the other clutching her black skirt. She’s nervous… or scared. That’s when I notice her bare arms are littered with bruises. She has tattoos as well but before I can focus on them for detail, she sighs.
“I can't tell you who I am.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't remember my name.”
“I… don’t understand.”
She stares down at the floor.
An uncomfortable silence falls between us because I sense she has more to say, and right when she parts her lips to speak, the door opens.
The woman jumps out of the way moments before being hit.
“That’s enough, witch,” my father barks, glaring at her.
Witch? This is the witch helping my family?
It’s clear she’s being forced. She can’t even remember her own name.
“Dad,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
“Farrah,” he grumbles, closing the door once the witch leaves. His eyes fall to my hair that I have up in a messy bun. “Dean said you ruined your hair.”
He walks to a chair placed in the corner of the room and brings it around to the side of the bed. He sits facing me, arms crossed, and a scowl on his face.
Mally O’Hern could be handsome if he wasn’t filled with hate. He has a head full of light red hair, streaked with white as he gets older, but no wrinkles, thanks to slowed hunter aging. He’s got a well-trimmed beard—also streaked with white—and blue eyes like me.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“Why do you think, daughter? You’ve mated with a monster.”
My breath whooshes out of me, and my head spins. The nausea returns, but I swallow back the need to throw up again.
“How…”
My father shrugs. “The witch. She has visions. She’s shown us quite a lot about the supernatural world these past few months since she came to us.”
“That woman who was just in here?”
Mally chuckles. “God, no. That’s the witch’s daughter. She’s useless. Barely has powers of her own. Her mother gifted her to us.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand. Why would a witch do this? Why would she help you?”
“Because she wants what we want.”
I bring my fingertips to my temples and rub. My head is killing me. The pain throbs and seems to only be getting worse. “And what do you want?”
“To stop the monsters from revealing themselves to the humans.”
I inhale a sharp breath. They know?
“It can’t happen, Farrah. These monsters are evil. Dangerous.”
“They’re not.”
“They are!” My father stands, and I cower at his threatening stance. Mally is a big man, and I no longer believe he won’t hurt me. “They’ve tricked you. You’re under some sort of compulsion. That’s all a fated mate bond is… compulsion… a spell. I can help you break the bond—”
“No! Why would I do that? I love him—”
“Your mate killed Ethan!”
I jerk back at my father’s words.
“What? No. He…”
I always feared he was the one who took my brother’s life during the attack at the warehouse after Vara was kidnapped. I couldn’t ask though. I figured Locheran would tell me once he realized I was an O’Hern hunter. If he’d been the one to kill my little brother…
“I saw it. He chased Ethan to the roof of that warehouse. He tore his throat out with his claws and sent him over the edge to his death.”
My eyes fill with tears. My throat aches with grief.
“It was self-defense,” I whisper.
If it hadn't been Ethan, then it would have been Locheran. One death for another.
“Monsters manipulate. That’s all there is to it. They need to be eradicated. All of them. If they reveal themselves to the human world, they’ll take over. They’ll be on top of the food chain. Innocent people will die. They’ll keep us as slaves—”
“Like you’re doing now with that woman?” I spit out.
My father backhands me. Any tears waiting to fall now spill down my cheeks. I glare at the man who raised me. I won’t show him my fear. He was supposed to be my protector. He was supposed to love and support me, not force me to hate something he can’t understand.
He’s never hit me, and I fear there’s no turning back. There’s no saving him.
“If you will not break the fated mate connection, I will force it to be broken. I will have your memories erased and replaced with ones where you choose to join us. I’m tired of your disobedience!”
I sit frozen on the bed, my palm on the cheek that stings from my father’s hit. I refuse to look at him.
“It’s five p.m. You have until midnight to decide. That’s when they’ll be here to try and save you.”
With that, he storms out of the room. I flinch at the metal groan of the door locking.
I fall back onto the bed then curl into a ball. The throbbing pain in my head is getting so bad, I can hear it pulsing.
Locheran? Loch? Can you hear me? I’m alive, but please don’t come. They’re going to ambush you. Please! I’ll figure out how to escape.
I’m not sure if my message is going through our connection.
Locheran said he’d be able to find me through it, so why haven’t they busted in yet?
If they’re waiting to move in tonight, they’re going to be faced with my father and however many hunters they’ve managed to gather for this asinine plan to capture powerful monsters.
Except, now they have a powerful weapon.
A witch.
One that could see my connection to Locheran. She saw through Mira’s shields and protection spells.
There’s no telling what else the witch has done for my father.
I worry by the time I find out, it will be too late, and my mate will be dead.