NORTHERN OHIO SHIFTERS BOOK SEVEN
The first thing Amity noticed after the window lock broke was the silence.
She wasn’t sure her heart was even beating as she held her breath, her ears craned for any sound that would tell her she wasn’t alone.
But none came.
Her fingers trembled as she pushed the window open as slowly as she could, the old iron frame groaning with the motion.
She didn’t focus on anything but the window as it slowly opened, making a way for her to leave the room that had been her prison for the last…
however many months. Time had blurred into a miserable cycle of pain, fear, and blood a long time ago.
Gripping the concrete edge, she dug her shoes into the wall and hauled herself up and out the first floor window.
Too weak to stop herself from simply falling from the window, pain exploded through her as she tumbled to the ground, and she ground her teeth against the cry in her throat. She was not about to get caught after finally figuring out a way to escape.
Forcing herself to remain still as her heart pounded in her ears, she waited.
No one shouted an alarm, no footsteps raced toward her.
Still shaking, she dragged in a slow breath of crisp fall air and pushed herself off the wet grass using the side of the house for leverage.
This was what freedom smelled like: trees and wet grass and starlight.
And survival.
Ignoring the pain from the beating she’d taken earlier, she straightened and tried to get her bearings.
Where the hell was she?
She’d been living outside North Carolina with a witch coven after her exile from the Fae Realm. Eventually, the witches figured out she wasn’t one of them and tossed her out on her butt – just in time for her to get abducted by a fae named Vire.
A Dharling – a healing nymph and former fae – Amity had spent months as his captive, forced to use her power to heal the enemies he tortured so he could hurt them all over again.
Last night, she’d had enough and refused to heal on command.
Vire sent his cronies in to beat her within an inch of her life, promising a few days without food and water would change her tune.
But fuck him all the way off.
She might not be at her full strength, but she was able to heal herself enough to move, and the idiots who’d occasionally checked on her hadn’t noticed she’d been working the old window lock loose for days.
Amity hurried toward the tree line, every step making her wince. The woods offered her some semblance of protection as the shadows and branches closed in around her as she made her way far away from the home that had been her prison.
She wouldn’t stop until she found someone to help her.
Even though she was hurt and exhausted, if she paused for even a little while, she risked Vire discovering her absence and sending people after her.
So she kept moving, one foot in front of the other.
She peeked up at the stars through the canopy of trees, using them to guide her away from the house and hopefully toward somewhere she could get help.
She had a single thread of hope life.
One of the witches told her about a shifter bar in Northern Ohio run by a fallen angel named Paris.
At the time it seemed like gossip that wasn’t based in reality.
But now it felt like the only chance she had.
She’d spent zero time around shifters or fallen angels, but if this Paris guy might be willing to help get her somewhere safe, she was going to get the heck to Ohio, one way or another.
The question was whether she could make it to Lykos before Vire realized his prized healer was gone, or if he’d find her first.
By the time the sun rose, Amity had put as much distance between herself and her prison as her battered body would let her. But she knew she hadn’t traveled nearly as far as she should. Vire would definitely track her down, he wouldn’t just let her waltz away when he’d been using her for so long.
She pushed through the woods, stopping long enough to use a little bit of her healing magic to take away the worst of the pain. She wasn’t strong enough to fully heal herself. She’d need rest and a decent meal. But she was able to heal the worst of her injuries.
Her magic felt weak, like a frayed blanket that no longer kept the cold at bay.
Mistreatment, constant use of her magic without time to naturally replenish it, coupled with the beating and lack of decent food and water had left her magic fractured. Only time would really get her back to normal.
Despite the odds against her, she kept moving.
By midday, she found a dirt road and followed it until she spied a rusted mailbox and a house sitting far back in an overgrown field.
She hobbled down the lane to the house, nearly crying in relief when she saw a water spigot on the side of the house.
She drank until she was about to barf, and then she splashed it over her face, drying her skin with the hem of her dirty tunic.
The house looked abandoned, but she knew she wasn’t nearly far enough away from Vire, and if she stopped, she’d be helpless to defend herself.
Back on the road, she kept to the trees, ducking out of sight when an old truck drove by. Her gaze caught on the license plate: Pennsylvania.
That meant she was just one state away from Ohio!
She pushed herself harder after that, staying in the trees as long as she could, until they gave way to more populated areas. She found an apple tree that still had late fruit on it and took several, then hurried on.
By the time she finally crossed into Ohio, running on sheer stubbornness and tiny flashes of healing magic to get her through, she was so exhausted she could hardly see straight. Her back hurt the most, that old wound from where her wings had been taken by a sword ached with every step she took.
It was dark by the time her feet hit gravel. The sharp stones poked through her thin shoes as she lifted her head to stare blurrily toward a building. She stopped just before the spill of light from an overhead floodlight and stared at the well-lit sign.
Lykos.
For a moment, her vision crossed and her knees turned to jelly.
She’d been walking for two days. Too scared to hitch a ride or ask anyone for help. The single thought cruising through her mind the whole time had been getting to Lykos.
But as impossible as it was that she’d made it, as relieved as she was to be there, another feeling rose inside her. It was a low ache in her chest, a mix of relief and hope, coupled with fear.
Because she was suddenly scared.
More scared now than she’d been when she escaped.
What if Paris wasn’t a real person? What if there was no help for her inside?
Hell no.
She hadn’t survived the massacre of her family to crumple into a weeping ball out of some abject fear! She was going to march right into that bar and find Paris. He had to be real, and he had to help her.
She’d walked for two days, damn it, and she didn’t have any other options if this failed.
She desperately wanted her journey to be over.
And to take a shower and sit down for a minute. Or a day.
And why was her heart pounding and her back aching so sharply?
Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin and took a step toward the bar.
Whatever happened, she was going to be safe here.
She had to be.