Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
ILIANA
Something warm and wet touched Iliana’s cheek, pulling her from sleep. Her hand collided with soft, short fur.
Her eyes popped open to find a black muzzle hovering inches from her face.
She was sure the hammering of her heart was loud enough for the dog to hear it. Any second now, it would lunge.
It didn’t. The dog pulled back, settling onto its haunches. It waited. Watching.
When no attack came, some of the tension left her shoulders. “Hello there,” she croaked, then cleared her throat and tried again. “Hello there, handsome. How did you get in here?”
The animal stayed perfectly still, staring at her with bright golden eyes.
She moved slowly, pushing herself up as her muscles protested, her body stiff from staying in bed for too long.
The dog stood at chest height with the bed, so large it caught her breath. It cocked its head, curious rather than aggressive, watching her with intelligence beyond a normal animal.
Did he send this dog in here to prevent her from trying to escape again?
As the thought crossed her mind, she caught a subtle aroma, like incense. It was odd. She’d expected wet fur, or…something worse.
She wanted to scream in frustration, to charge out of the room and confront the man again, but changing tactics was her only way to move forward. She wasn’t foolish enough to barge past the dog or repeat her failed attempts at escape.
Her last conversation with her captor resurfaced, her accusations. The strange loss of control and the way she felt pulled to sleep when he spoke. The unnatural speed when he’d stopped her attack. Not a human? She scowled.
Drugs. It was the only explanation that didn’t make her brain hurt.
She stretched. Dizziness struck, and she steadied herself against the bed. How long had she been asleep? Her full bladder suggested it had been quite a while.
She studied the creature while weighing her chances of making it to the bathroom without it attacking.
Sleek black fur. Slightly fluffy tail. Tall, pointed ears that reminded her of a German Shepherd.
Its face was narrow, almost foxlike. She didn’t know what kind of breed it was, but it looked regal. And much faster than her.
Her stomach growled.
The animal’s ear twitched. It let out a soft whine, almost as if it understood.
“It’s okay. I’ll eat eventually,” she said, trying to smile. “At least once I get out of here.”
The dog didn’t react to her words. It just continued watching her.
A sharper pang in her bladder reminded her that escaping would have to wait. She forced her weak legs to support her weight as she made her choice. She hurried into the bathroom and locked the door behind her, expecting to hear the dog growl, but there was nothing. No sounds. No snarls.
After taking care of her needs, she slowly opened the door. She listened for any movement. Silence. She looked around for the dog, but it was gone.
She inspected the room and spotted the folded clothes left on the garish Pepto-pink bedding. They called to mind the flimsy nightshirt she’d worn since the kidnapping. As she grabbed the clothes, about to change, she caught her own scent and wrinkled her nose.
Had she really been unconscious for days?
She moved toward the bedroom door, shutting and locking it before stepping back. The lock was flimsy. Useless if the man wanted in, but at least she’d hear him coming.
Iliana grabbed the clean clothes and returned to the bathroom. She turned on the water, watching the steam fill the room as she stood in front of the mirror.
She hardly recognized herself. Her long hair was oily and tangled, half falling out of a messy bun. Her olive-toned skin looked ashen. The dark purple circles under her eyes showed that whatever sleep she’d gotten here hadn’t helped.
Turning away, she stripped off her nightshirt and underwear, stepping under the steaming water with a sharp inhale.
She needed this.
As the water flowed over her body, she forced herself not to stay in the temporary relief. On the fogged glass, she wrote: GET OUT. GO HOME. LEAVE ARIZONA.
When she finally stepped out, she dressed, leaving the unfamiliar underwear on the counter.
She was glad to finally be wearing normal clothes, despite the jeans and shirt hanging loose on her frame.
After brushing her teeth with the unopened toothbrush she’d found in a drawer, she gulped down several handfuls of water straight from the tap.
The cool liquid soothed her parched throat.
Her next encounter with her kidnapper needed to be different. She needed to stay calm. To stay in control.
But first, food.
Iliana cracked the door open, peeking into the hall. Relief crashed through her when she found it empty. No sign of the kidnapper or the dog. A savory smell of slow-cooked beef and herbs reached her. Her mouth watered at the aroma, but then her stomach cramped, doubling her over.
Once the pain eased, she straightened and moved down the hall. She stopped at the entry of the living room and hesitantly looked in. She’d expected to see both the dog and its owner guarding the door, but the couch was empty. Neither was in sight, leaving the path to the exit clear.
Her freedom was right there.
A part of her screamed to run, but her last few attempts had ended with her falling unconscious; whether from drugs or sheer weakness, she wasn’t sure. There was no way for her to escape in her condition. Not without food.
She swallowed her pride, forcing herself away from the door.
Survival first. Escape after.
Iliana stepped into the kitchen and froze.
The man at the stove wasn’t her kidnapper. He was taller and broader than the other, his frame powerful beneath his tight black shirt. His braids fell down his back, silver, gold, and glass beads flashing in the light. They clicked softly as he moved.
Even from behind, he radiated a calm that made her shoulders relax slightly.
The man spoke before her thoughts went any further. “Please sit. The stew will be ready shortly.”
His voice was deep and warm, rich with an accent she couldn’t place. The effect felt natural, comforting, and unlike what she’d experienced with the other man. Her reaction to it unsettled her, making her want to flee, but her insides twisted again in protest.
Strength first, she reminded herself.
Moving cautiously, she sat at the table. When the man turned around, her mouth parted in surprise.
Oh, hell.
He had high cheekbones and a distractingly plump bottom lip. And his eyes were gold, the intense color almost unnatural.
Definitely unnatural.
She barely noticed she’d been staring until his lips curved into a smile. Iliana snapped her mouth shut so fast her teeth clicked.
They’re not human.
The previous man had called her ‘human,’ as if she were something else. And now this one, this godlike man, had golden eyes that practically glowed.
“Please relax,” he said in a gentle tone. “You must be hungry. Hyp said you have not eaten yet today.”
Relax? How could she relax when nothing made sense anymore?
Unlike the other man, his voice didn’t have that hypnotic quality that made her want to sleep. And he was offering food, not threats. She looked at him carefully, trying to figure out if he was lying or planning something, but he just waited.
She forced herself not to hesitate. “Yes, I’m hungry.”
His smile widened, almost reassuring. Almost.
Iliana watched as he ladled stew into two bowls. He set one in front of her, then returned to the oven. When he pulled out a fresh loaf of bread, she clenched her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking. All she wanted to do was grab the bowl and devour its contents.
Thankfully, caution held her back.
The man sat across from her, folding himself into the dining chair with his legs barely fitting underneath the table. If she weren’t so exhausted and terrified, she might’ve found his size versus the small chair amusing.
He cut a few slices of the bread before taking a bite of the stew.
Only then did she reach for her spoon. The first taste nearly made her moan.
Rich and savory, the tender beef and soft vegetables melted on her tongue.
She devoured the food, barely tasting it after the first bite, only stopping when she realized the man had put his spoon down and was watching her with concern.
Blushing, she looked away in embarrassment.
“When was the last time you ate?” he asked, pushing the bread toward her.
She hesitated, then took a slice. “I’m not sure. How long have I been here?”
His eyes darkened. “Almost three days,” he said, frowning. “Has he not fed you?”
Was he mad at his friend? On her behalf?
“No,” she admitted. “I, um...my last meal was breakfast the day I was taken.” Kidnapped, she silently corrected.
He fisted his hand on the table. “And has he told you why you are here?”
Iliana let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “No. Nothing. I’ve asked and tried to leave, but I always seem to pass out.” She asked what had been troubling her. “Did he...drug me?”
He shook his head. “No. Not drugs.” Before she could press further, he continued, pointing at her bowl. “Would you like more food?”
She almost said yes, but didn’t know if she could handle any more. Eating too much after so long without might be a bad idea.
Instead, she asked, “Can I know your name?”
He smiled again, his expression warm and easy. “My friends call me Ani.”
“You think of me as a friend?” A part of her needed to hear he didn’t have plans of hurting her, but who knew what kidnappers did to their friends? Their moral compasses were obviously skewed.
“I think I would like to be your friend.” The way he said it made something in her chest tighten.
Was that hope?
“My name is Anubis.”
Iliana froze. Before she could stop herself, sharp, hysterical laughter burst out.
“Like...like the god?”