Chapter 12
Raven
The sound of a door banging against a wall startled me into consciousness. I’d tried to stay awake but eventually succumbed to exhaustion. With no windows, it was impossible to tell whether it was day or night.
When I reached out to my mates, I found only silence. The bonds between us remained intact, at least. Goddess, were they safe? Glynda too. I silently prayed the fae had protected her with his pathetic and utterly pointless life.
If he hadn’t, I’d melt his ass the moment we met again. The sea witch’s well-deserved fate was a pale imitation of what I’d do to Farris. He would regret the day we crossed paths. I doubted the Autumn Court would miss him.
I quickly decided vengeance was my new middle name.
Raven Vengeance Blackstone.
Yeah. It had a nice ring to it.
The minute I escaped this hellhole, I’d update my socials #badassbitchwitch.
A stocky male in a white uniform strode in while I was deep in a feminine rage fantasy.
A middle-aged female with a severely bleached blonde haircut that did not flatter her angular features followed him.
The gray tissue around her fingertips told me she was a witch that used dark magic, but thanks to the metal cuffs on my wrists, I couldn’t read her aura.
Not that it mattered. With a face like hers, I knew it would be sludge green or possibly gray. She didn’t look like the type of witch who enjoyed baking and embroidery. Or smutty novels.
“I need to pee.” I wiggled uncomfortably as the male pushed my gurney back into the corridor. No joke. My bladder situation had reached critical status, and if I didn’t empty it imminently, I’d embarrass myself, which would hurt my badass bitch witch vibe.
Blondie huffed in annoyance. “Unfasten the straps and I’ll take her to the bathroom.” The male did as he was told and then imitated a statue as I awkwardly clambered off the gurney, my legs stiff and achy.
The corridor stretched away in either direction, with metal doors at each end. White walls, white tiles, and bright white strip lights. Someone needed to add some color to the place. All this white was way too much for my delicate eyes.
“Don’t waste your time trying to escape,” the witch said in a bored tone, leading me into a small bathroom with a washbowl and toilet. “You won’t get far.”
“Where are we?” There was no door on the cubicle, which meant no privacy. Luckily for me, my bladder had never been shy.
The witch tapped her fingers impatiently on the counter while I washed my hands, but she didn’t bother answering my question. So I tried a different approach.
“Where’s Alaric?”
That raised a heavily tweezed eyebrow. Didn’t she realize pencil-thin eyebrows were so nineties? Or so I’d heard Demelza say while passing through the common room one evening.
I silently muttered thanks to the goddess that Alaric had toasted that judgmental bitch before pasting a friendly smile on my face.
“Okay, so sensitive questions are off the menu. Fine, I get it.” The witch pushed me back to where the taciturn male waited. He stared at the floor, refusing to meet my eyes. Goddess, was he a prisoner too?
“Are you being held against your will?” I whispered to him as he pointed to the gurney. “Blink once for yes or twice for no.”
He blinked once before shaking his head and blinking twice in quick succession.
I exhaled with relief. It was bad enough that I had to rescue Alaric. Any more hangers-on would stretch my mental and physical capabilities. It wasn’t as if I had a plan, after all.
Since I hated awkward silences, I tried making conversation after crawling back onto the gurney. I could have walked, but the witch seemed determined to save my energy, which was sweet of her.
“Is there any food?”
“No food.” She strode off, her heels clacking on the tiled floor.
“But I’m hungry!”
Once again, she ignored me. Bitch.
We trundled down the corridor, not seeing a soul. Did anybody work here? I was pretty sure I’d seen this place in a zombie-themed computer game.
Zane had installed a gaming console in the vampire dorm shortly after we moved in. Killing zombies was fun, he’d said. I’d tried playing the game one night, only for my character to die in the first minute.
Kenji had mocked me for days afterward. Too stupid to live were his exact words.
My heart squeezed in my chest when I thought about my sweet boy.
Was my darling Fig eating properly? Had anyone taken him out for a pee?
I tried asking Kenji to check, but there was still nothing but a gaping chasm. I couldn’t even feel Alaric, and he was in the same building.
At least I assumed he was.
A double door swung open and Miss Whiplash, as I’d named her in my head—mainly because I thought she’d rock a career as a dominatrix—stopped dead and lowered her chin respectfully.
“Sir, the subject is ready for you.”
“Thank you, Miss Bone.”
Bone? What kind of name was Bone? I guessed it suited her skeletal features.
But my amusement at Miss Boney Whiplash’s stupid name faded away into nothingness when I saw my nemesis waiting for me with a smug smile on his face.
Tiberius Vane had the evil overlord aesthetic nailed. He leaned against a desk, arms folded. His suit seemed super expensive, and, like always, he looked polished enough for an impromptu press conference.
“Miss Blackstone. You look well this morning.” Wow! Low blow. It wasn’t my fault I’d skipped my morning shower and was currently doing the walk of shame in a club outfit.
“I’m impressed, Tibs.” The mage glowered at my blatant disrespect. “Looks like you’ve sunk a lot of cash into this hotel. It needs work, though. Your customer service team could do with some additional training because I had a terrible night’s sleep.”
“Don’t worry, my dear. You’ll be moving to a much nicer suite soon.”
That shut me up. I’d steeled myself for torture and everything, so why was he being suspiciously nice?
“Where are we?”
To my surprise, he was a bit more forthcoming than his minions.
“In a research facility deep underground in the Arizona desert.”
My brain kicked up a gear, despite the lack of enriching food, and swiftly descended into a bleak doom spiral. Goddess, save me. My mates would never find me if I were miles underground! Especially not with magic-blocking cuffs on!
“Um, why?” I faked apathy instead of picking suitable tunes for my inevitable funeral. Highway to Hell was a good one, along with Ding! Dong! The Witch is Dead. Had they played that at Demelza’s funeral? If not, they should have.
“Because I plan to extract every bit of your unique magic.” He smiled as if he’d just informed me I had a full day of spa treatments to look forward to. For the record, that would have been my preferred activity for today.
I opened my mouth to demand details of whatever twisted scheme he had conjured, but his phone rang and the bastard waved his hand, dismissing me like one of his minions.
Miss Whiplash tried to escort me away, but I dragged my feet, pretending to swoon from lack of food and water. Okay, so there wasn’t much faking going on; I really did feel faint.
Mostly, however, I was just keen to know what the call was about. And from the incandescent rage on Tiberius’s face, it wasn’t good news.
“They’ve done WHAT?” Oh my. Tibs was super angry about something. Had my mates gone on a psychotic murder spree in my absence? I fucking hoped so. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about.
I knew my mates were alive, but being alive didn’t mean they were safe.
Everything from the time we arrived at the club was a confusing mess in my head, but I vaguely remembered demons attacking.
A horde of demons rampaging through a packed nightclub would have led to dozens of fatalities. Maybe even hundreds.
“Are you sure he’s dead?” Tiberius’s voice turned icy. Whoever had perished, presumably at my mates’ hands, was important to the mage. “They will pay for this!”
“Sorry for your loss.” I tried not to smirk while Miss Whiplash tugged me across the floor, but I failed miserably. When we reached the doorway, I wedged my foot against the frame, and she had no choice but to stop.
Tiberius ground his teeth before forcing a glacial smile in my direction.
“Your mates now have a warrant out for their arrest on charges of First Degree Murder and Crimes Against Humans. The minute the mage security task force apprehends them, they will be placed on death row in the maximum security penitentiary for feral magicals.”
My mouth gaped open most unattractively. “That’s bullshit!” Whoever had died had almost certainly deserved it. Zane didn’t kill for no reason…okay, so maybe he did…but Maverick was not a thrill killer!
“It was all caught on camera, Miss Blackstone. The evidence is indisputable.”
“You can’t kill my soul-bonded mates! I’ll…I’ll die!”
“Not a problem, my dear. Once I’ve extracted your magic, you’re no longer of use to me.”
Silence lay heavy on my shoulders as I paced up and down my cell.
I point-blank refused to let Tiberius Vane’s vague threats scare me.
His reaction to whatever update he’d received reassured me my mates were still out there, searching for me.
They were all powerful, resourceful, and in Rasmus’s case, virtually indestructible.
If he could survive a mass extinction event like the bloodborne virus, he could survive a pathetic, small-dicked mage like Tiberius Vane.
Okay, fiiiine, so I had no idea whether Tibs had a small dick, but since he exuded small-dick energy, it seemed likely.
My fingers drifted to the ruby necklace at my throat. Rasmus could use it to find me, right? With Zane’s teleportation skills, my mates would get here any minute now.
Someone pushed a cheese sandwich and a bottle of water through a hatch in the door to my cell.
The bread had green mold on the crust, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. I picked off the mold and ate the rest, washing it down with a few sips of water. Although I was thirsty enough to drain the entire bottle, I put it aside for later in case no further refreshments arrived.
The magic-blocking cuffs weighed my wrists down, sapping my energy, and so with nothing else to do, I sat down on the hard floor, intending to take a short power nap.
Only I must have dropped into an exhausted slumber because when I next opened my eyes, the light had changed and my cell looked different.
Was I dreaming?
Like my prison, this room had a metal door and no window, but it was slightly larger. I spotted Alaric lying on a small cot, his eyes closed, and realized that, despite the cuffs, I must have somehow dream-walked from my cell into his.
Two emerald-green eyes snapped open.
“Raven? How the fuck did you escape?”