14
EMERSYN
Present Day
I fought to hold onto the pine scent of that memory as long as I could, but it disappeared rapidly when my senses picked up something much more important—footsteps.
A faint glow illuminated what was previously cast in darkness.
It was as grim as I imagined. As the light grew stronger, I could see I was in a small stone cell with bars on the front.
Everything was damp and the entirety of it felt very medieval.
That illusion was squashed with the arrival of two guards who held assault rifles and were dressed in modern fatigues.
Both guards had their face coverings pulled up over their noses, but I could see the leer on their faces as their eyes swept over me.
The smaller one whistled. “You were right, Brooks, she is a beauty.”
The taller man, Brooks, grunted and pulled a set of ornate keys from his belt. “And deadly. Or at least that’s according to Quarry.”
The man scoffed and slid his gaze over me again, slower. “This little thing?”
I stared at him flatly—he wasn’t exactly one to talk. Brooks unlocked the cell and the other one stepped through.
“Yup. He nicknamed her the Hurricane,” Brooks said.
“Huh. I wonder why.”
I tilted my head and my lips twitched in an almost smirk. “Come undo these cuffs. I’ll show you.”
The short one chuckled. “Cute.” He came over and crouched down. “I like them mouthy.”
I gave him a bored look and calculated how much closer he needed to be to strike.
“Be careful, Marcello,” Brooks warned.
“Yeah, yeah.”
Marcello sucked on his teeth beneath his face covering and once again let his eyes linger in places they shouldn’t. He pulled a syringe from his pocket and flicked off the cap. I watched his body lean closer—another inch—
I threw my legs up, wrapped my thighs around his neck and squeezed hard.
He gave a very undignified squawk and thrashed on the ground.
Out of the corner of my eye, Brooks moved with predatory ease and I felt a bite at my neck.
The warm seductive pull of the sedative unfurled in my veins.
It crept through my limbs and threw a shroud over my mind.
My legs loosened on their own and Marcello’s head slipped out from between my thighs.
He scrambled back—red in the face as he cursed and sputtered for breath.
“Fuck, I told you she was dangerous,” Brooks griped.
“Bitch,” Marcello spat, his glare full of vitriol as he climbed to his feet and took a step toward me. No doubt for some sort of retribution. I bared my teeth at him as Brooks grabbed his shoulder.
“Teach her a lesson later,” he growled.
Brooks moved to unlock my restraints and hauled me to my feet. Everything tilted wildly as the blood went back to circulating where it belonged. Marcello scowled, but it was obvious Brooks was the one in charge because he moved to the door and held it open as Brooks pulled me through.
“Why are we even moving her?” Marcello grumbled.
“Orders.” Brooks sounded annoyed.
“But, to the beach? He never does that,” Marcello pushed.
“Jesus, man,” Brooks growled. “You know I don’t question Mahoney’s orders.”
Marcello looked at him pointedly as we passed and started down the corridor. Brooks scowled at the look of open curiosity on Marcello’s pinched face. It was obvious these two were friends, but Brooks outranked him. Probably by a lot if I had to guess.
“We’re supposed to be careful with her, for now,” he admitted. “Everything else will be in her brief when Mahoney gets back to the island in two days.”
“Careful? That’s new.” I could feel his eyes again, even though we walked slightly ahead of him. “Doesn’t look like her previous handlers got that memo.”
He was obviously referring to the crisscross of whip scars across my back—or maybe it was the grizzly bear marks on my side, or the plethora of other scars that marred my body. Not to mention the very obvious and glaring one on my face—yeah, the “handle-with-care” sticker did not apply.
Brooks didn’t comment and we continued our trek through the damp corridor. I expected conditions to improve, but when we ascended a stretch of rough hewn rock steps and emerged outside, things were arguably just as bad.
The wind tore through my body like a howling ghost and embedded the chill deep into my bones on the first pass.
The smell of pine was so strong, I had a moment where I wondered if the drugs had thrown me back into the past where my memories still lingered near the surface.
But, no—it was a different forest, only this one was far more sinister.
The trees were massive old souls that creaked and groaned as they were battered by the raging storm.
The scent of the salt battled with the crisp smell of moss and bark, while the sound of the surf had turned to a roar, and the thunder of waves on the cliffs made the earth tremble under my bare feet.
Brooks yanked me from my stunned stupor and we pushed through the wind toward a path that descended the cliffs.
Before we disappeared over the edge, I saw a large estate not too far away.
It looked like it belonged here—gothic, and edged with sinister energy.
This entire place reeked of darkness, both past and present.
It made goosebumps rise on my skin that had nothing to do with the cold.
I didn’t trust my footing with the drugs fully immersed in my system and both Marcello and Brooks had to hold onto me as we traversed the path that led down to the small strip of black shoreline.
Despite the wind, the clouds thankfully hadn’t broken open yet.
I was not looking forward to the rain. We reached the beach and I saw our destination—a wooden stake the height of a man, pounded into the earth above the tide.
Brooks shoved me to my knees and cuffed my wrists above my head.
The sand was coarse and dug into my skin.
The wind off the water quickly turned my body to ice.
Brooks and Marcello didn’t linger—the bastards.
As soon as I was secured, they took off quickly toward the side of the cliff where a guardhouse was embedded into the rocks.
Electrical lanterns burned brightly on either side of the doorway—a promise of shelter from the wilds outside.
I leaned my forehead against the rough wood.
Mahoney.
I’d heard the name before when I’d been with Quarry.
That was always the threat—that the other girls and I would be given to Mahoney and sold in the Red Auction.
Despite that, I didn’t know what he looked like.
I briefly wondered if that’s what happened.
Was I going to the Red Auction? The only reason I didn’t think so was because the guards had said that this wasn’t normal Mahoney behavior.
So, then, what was this all about?
I was sure I’d find out eventually.