Chapter 8
EIGHT
I awoke to the smell of unfamiliar herbs and magic. Falling asleep in the basement wasn’t unheard of for me, especially after a heavy magic session, but I knew before opening my eyes I wasn’t at home.
Images and feelings floated back to me as I rose to consciousness. Beckett, terror as I ran down the dark streets, stumbling into those two men, stabbing pain.
Being left to die.
My eyes opened and closed almost as sudden when bright light flooded my irises. I turned my face away, tears filling my eyes. I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten here, only that I couldn’t save myself and was getting ready to die.
I opened my eyes once more, squinting at the natural light, and tried to slow my breathing. Panicking would serve no one and might even prevent me from figuring out what the hell was going on. Scents of rosemary, lavender, and rose lay heavy in the air, none of the smells sinister.
My breathing relaxed. Natural light. Non-poisonous herbs. I wasn’t chained to the bed.
I shifted carefully, surprised to do so without much pain. A stack of colorful cotton blankets lay over me, handmade based on the crooked stitching down the edge of the seam by my bare arm.
I stilled. Why was my arm bare? My heartbeat sped up as I lifted the blankets. Relief filled me as I noticed the tank top and soft pants. Alright. Dressed then. Though someone had obviously undressed me.
I grimaced. I’d think about it later.
Slowly rolling over, I pushed myself to a seated position.
My feet were bare, and all the blood from yesterday was gone.
The room was cozy and well-furnished. An old, scarred dresser with a mirror on the surface sat against the back of the wall.
There was a glider with an ottoman by the window, and a small table stacked with books.
The bed was a four-poster, also old judging from the chips and scars in the wood.
My bare feet hit hardwood. With one hand on the mattress, I slowly stood, letting out a steady breath.
Still not much pain. I lifted the edge of the tank to see my side swaddled in white bandages.
My left arm was also wrapped from my shoulder to my elbow.
I limped over to the mirror, grimacing at the sight of my bare face and wild hair.
A small skin-colored scar was the only evidence of Beckett’s claws.
My eyes had purple smudges underneath and there was a bruise on the side of my jaw. I looked like I’d lost a fight with someone much larger than me. That wouldn’t be too far from the truth.
Someone had taken me out of that alley. I racked my brain trying to remember.
Two women. One whose name started with a T. Who were they and how had they found me? Were they working with Beckett? Had they healed me just long enough for him to come in and try again?
I had to get out of here. A frantic sweep of my gaze around the room revealed no shoes, no jacket, but there was a small heap of clothing in the corner by the dresser.
I hurried over and crouched, wincing at the pull in my side as I sorted through the pile.
Several bloody towels and—there. My purse.
“Thank the gods,” I whispered. Once I had it slung over my head, I pulled myself up with the help of the dresser and crept over to the window to peek out. First floor. Good for me.
Voices filtered from down the hall. I rushed over and grabbed all the bloody towels.
Someone with ill intentions could use those to perform the worst sort of magic.
My clothes were gone. If those hadn’t been destroyed, grabbing the towels wouldn’t help me, but if they’d thrown them in the wash, the blood would no longer be usable.
Better safe than sorry. I hurried over to the window, flipped open the latches, and cracked it open.
Someone used these windows all the time.
It slid open without a sound. One quick hit to the side of the screen popped the thing right out, and I climbed outside in one fluid movement, sucking in a pained breath at the pull in my side.
My bare feet hit the cold earth. I heard a shout from inside the house as I shot around the corner and took off at a full sprint.
I was in a neighborhood, middle class from the looks of it, all matching houses and well-kept yards. Not the kind of place where you might see a half-dressed crazy woman hauling ass down the middle of the street in bare feet.
I dug through my purse, hoping like hell my cell phone was still inside, and almost wept with relief when my fingers clenched around the cold rectangle of an iPhone.
“Call Edmund!” I shouted at the speaker.
He might not be able to escape the house, but he could access my location and the house computer. How sad was it that the only person I trusted right now was a snarky, invisible being connected to my electricity?
“Alex! My gods, are you alright?”
“No idea where I am. Access my location and tell me where the hell I need to go. Fast, Edmund. Please.”
A short pause. “Of course. Hold on.”
I kept running, taking a sharp left to pound down another mundane street. Almost everyone was at work, so I only got a few odd looks from people outside taking care of their lawn, but no one stopped me.
They might, however, call the police, though these days most people were too tired to get involved in anyone’s business other than their own. American apathy might yet save me.
Edmund swore, the first time I’d ever heard an eff bomb come out of his mouth. “You’re fifty miles away!”
I stumbled. “WHAT?”
“You’re two miles away from a rental car place. Can you make it?”
I felt like weeping. “I’m injured. Not bleeding again but not doing well. I’ll do my best.”
“There’s a gas station half a mile away. I’m sending a car. Ten minutes out. Red Honda Civic. License plates start with FYG.” He directed me to the right road.
“May you eat all the electricity you can swallow,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Be careful, Alex. This smells all wrong.”
Yeah. No shit. “I will.”
Once I disconnected, I picked up the pace. I was only a few minutes away from freedom.