Chapter 13
Hours Later, Unknown Location
Flames are everywhere. Smoke in my lungs. Wait…
Is this a dream? I spin in a circle. Nothing looks right. The fire hisses like a snake. No. Wait, it is a snake.
Something wet hits me in the face. Icy cold.
“Wake up!”
Adrenaline shoots through me. My eyes flutter. Why can’t I open them?
“Wake UP!” A rough shake jolts my body.
I snap awake. Cold water is running off of my nose, dripping from my chin, my mouth is open from shock.
Where am I?
Jerky and unstable, my eyes skate left then right. I don’t recognize this place. This is not a room, it’s an open patio of some kind with wooden beams above me and the forest to my left.
A man drops down into a crouch in front of me and I blink to bring him into focus.
“So she lives.”
His mouth is hidden by a black mask, but the cruel smirk reaches his eyes. They’re blue-gray and could be attractive if they weren’t in the face of a monster.
“Where am I?” I ask, my throat completely shredded. I remember yelling.
It’s clear I’ve been kidnapped.
The asshole splashes me with cold water again, making me gasp.
Rage sweeps through me as the restraints cut deeper into my wrists.
“Where am I?” I demand, but break into a coughing fit which makes me realize I’ve got a rope around my chest, and a stiff collar biting into my neck.
Jesus, did they put a dog collar on me?
“What do you remember?” he asks, studying my face with amusement.
“That I hate men like you.”
This time it’s not water, it’s a smack with an open palm.
My ears ring, sharp and loud. But with the biting pain, every memory of the last week comes flooding back into my head like a dam broke.
“Ah, there she is.” He watches me come fully awake.
With a satisfied chuckle he drops the empty metal pail on the concrete. It rolls around, the hollow sound sickening to my collapsing nervous system.
I look down for the first time, realizing I’m in a dress. It’s not mine.
A memory flitters through. Sweatshirt and sweatpants on my body. Lying against a cold metal floor. Before that, Ryker was slumped in the wreckage.
“Don’t you want to know where your boyfriend is?”
I twist my wrists until slick wetness slides down my fingers. “Where is he?” I hiss.
Through the opening in his mask, his eyes narrow with humor.
“Wanting to know where you are.”
Does that mean Ryker’s alive?
Hope crawls through me. Fragile, a tender, spring vine in the face of the annihilation in my heart.
“What do you want?” I choke out as he stalks around me.
Don’t shake. Keep it together.
“Ah,” he laughs, bracing his hands on his hips. “I want fun. Don’t we all want fun?”
“News flash. This isn’t fun.”
“Not yet.” He slips a hand into his pocket, looking down at me. “I think you’re going to do great. Didn’t know what to expect, but now I know you’re gonna make me a fuckton of money, sweets.”
He shifts toward me, drawing a cold finger up the column of my throat, over hard edges of the collar they’ve put on me, stopping below my chin, forcing me to look up into his face.
“Too bad I don’t have time to sample the goods.”
“Fuck you.”
I rarely ever say the word, fuck, but all I want to do is spit in this man’s face and stomp his throat until his head rolls across the floor.
I’ve snapped. Nothing of the old Jade remains.
When he presses his thumb to my bottom lip I jerk my head away. That’s when I hear a sound. An animalistic growling. Huffing. Almost like snorting.
“There he is,” my tormenter says, “I see he’s ready to get loose and make me pay. Only that’s not how this game works.”
The man reaches between my legs making my heart stop, but he only grabs the chair and drags me to face the other direction.
The metal scraping loudly on concrete.
But I lose all ability to hear when I see why he’s turned me around. Oh Christ. That sound is Ryker.
Four gigantic men in masks are carrying him into the patio area, bound to a chair just like me.
There’s foam around the tape covering his mouth. A big, shiny black collar catches the light.
Above that, Ryker’s eyes are furious enough to destroy entire worlds.
Every muscle in his body straining as he tries to break the cuffs and ankle restraints.
I’ve never seen anything scarier in my life.
Focus locked on me, Ryker doesn’t look at any of them. Only me. And his eyes say it all.
He’s crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed. He’s not backing down until bones are crushed with his fists. Death delivered by his blows.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” I shout. “Please, don’t. I’m okay.”
But my voice is broken, my chest won’t work right, my wrists are bleeding and I see no way out of this alive.
I’m not okay.
I’ve never been less okay in my life.
Even with the beatings and the horrible things my father did, nothing compared to the torture of seeing Ryker like this and knowing they’ll make him pay.
“Ah the love sick couple is reunited,” the ringleader mutters as he raises a device into the air.
Harsh lights flicker on, blinding me until I blink away the spots.
Everything is worse.
The blood running on the floor from Ryker’s wrists makes my heart leap up into my throat. It’s pooling. A river of red.
“Stop,” I beg him. “You’re bleeding.”
It’s almost like he’s in a trance. His shoulders shifting against the restraints, his legs flexing and relaxing as he works the ankle restraints too.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the man says looking toward the corner. “I’m Vesuvius and I present you with tonight’s contestants.”
When he sweeps his arms toward us, I turn to solid ice in the chair.
“Behold, the flower and the dragon,” he says, voice almost giddy, his sickness even more glaring.
“Betting is now open. But we’ve got something special for you tonight. A little treat before the hunt.”
Bile climbs my throat as my mind races. Hunt. Betting. He’s clearly talking to an audience. Or pre-recording something.
Ryker clears his throat, drawing my attention. He narrows his lashes then glances to his left. That’s when I see the men with weapons.
Oh my god. Hunt. Hunters. Hunting.
Hunting humans.
There are six men assembling guns, hunting bows, checking ammunition and arrows, loading packs. They are all wearing matching gray gear, with a single reflective slash on one sleeve.
Terror pours through me, rendering my heart useless.
My head swims, blackness fuzzing my vision as my head lolls forward. All the muscles in my neck are suddenly useless.
“No way,” the man says, slithering back toward me. “You need a little more pain to keep you conscious, my dandelion.”
“I’m not your stupid dandelion.”
“I don’t know,” he sucks his teeth and I have to actively suppress the urge to vomit.
“That yellow dress, those freckles, you make me think of summer fucks in the grass.”
I hiss at him, bared teeth and all.
Not sure who I am any more, but I know I’m not the woman they drugged in that wreck. She’s gone forever.
He snatches my hair, wrenching my neck. “Let’s see what your man is made of.”
One of his assistants appears when he motions toward my wrists.
The man emerges from the shadows, his eyes amused inside the opening in his mask. But unlike the ringleader’s eyes, these are water hazel and I recognize them instantly.
“Trevor!” I gasp.
He clamps a hand over my mouth. “Shut up.”
Seconds later I’m free, ankles and hands, and I’m yanked to my feet by a fistful of hair.
A squeak rips from my throat.
“What are you doing? You’ve lost your mind. You’ll fry when they catch you.”
He hisses in my ear. “Shut your fucking mouth, or I’ll cut your tongue out on the live feed.”
Ryker shouts through the tape on his mouth. “JADE!”
Trevor shoves me a step toward Ryker and my legs wobble, still affected by whatever drug they gave me.
The terror doesn’t help.
I’ve never been more scared in my life. Not even in that van.
It takes a few seconds to find my balance, but I’m instantly rigid when the first man steps in and presses a gun to my temple.
Turning to Ryker, Vesuvius says, “You make one wrong move, you don’t do exactly as you’re told, she’s pink mist. Or you play nice and you get a chance to live.”
“You mean, we get a chance to be hunted?” I counter.
He sneers against my face, pressing his hot mouth, the damp cotton of his mask against my ear. “Smart too. Maybe I should keep you for myself. But…”
He straightens.
Laughing, he says, “I can buy ass any time I want with all the money you’re making for us tonight.”
Ryker is definitely sending me a message with his eyes. Beneath the murder there, he’s telling me, don’t press. Don’t chance it.
But my blood is boiling.
Vesuvius grins behind his mask. “Now, here’s how this is going to go. She’s going to come over there and climb on your lap.”