Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
SEB
Fuck. It’s the first word that crosses my mind when I wake up.
I am in a world of hurt. Not only is there a blue cuff on my ankle, which means I am a prisoner of the Saint’s Order, there’s an IV running from my arm, draining my blood into a bag.
And the worst fucking part of it all is that Jeremy, the fucking doctor who hit on my mate, is outside the bars to my cell, sitting in a comfy chair, reading a book. I squint at the title. The Art of War.
You’ve got to be kidding me. This guy might as well be wearing an I’m a douchebag T-shirt. I try pushing into his mind, but my ankle starts to burn, and the entire cell is infused with blue light.
“Don’t try to use your powers,” Jeremy says. “You’ll only hurt yourself. Oh, and the bars are charmed too.”
I note the faint blue tinge to the steel. Fuck me. So I’m not getting out of here without help. “Where am I?”
He ignores my question. “I can’t believe you’re already awake,” he says, snapping the book closed.
“I have to admit, they said your kind healed quickly, but I had no idea just how quickly. The spell I hit you with would have knocked a human out for a good twelve hours. You were barely out for four.”
“You’re a witch,” I say.
He snorts. “Let’s not pretend you don’t know who I am. Zoe is working for you, and I am her doctor.”
Was her doctor, I think. But I don’t correct him. The last thing I want is for him to turn his sights on Zoe.
“Tell me, Sebastian, did you disclose to Zoe before she came to work for you that you’d be digging around in her brain? She knows what you are, but does she know you’ve most likely infiltrated her mind?”
Infiltrated her mind. No, I wouldn’t do that without her consent. But if he’s asking, then he doesn’t know she’s my mate. At least there’s that. I hope to keep it that way. “Why? Are you worried what I’ll find in there? What kind of interest do you have in Ms. Willow?”
He lifts his chin. “The kind that makes me ecstatic to be the one who eradicates you from her life.”
My eyes narrow. “Sounds like your interest in her goes beyond a doctor/patient relationship.”
His smile shifts. “Maybe.”
“Does Ms. Willow know her doctor moonlights for the Saint’s Order? I think she’d be interested that the man who promised to heal her is secretly a killer.”
“We kill dragons, not people.”
“So, she doesn’t know?”
He smiles as if it’s his smug little secret. “No. But then, that’s a recent development. My father did it for decades, and I only stepped up when he retired.” He looks at the ring on his finger. “Some nice perks to the position, though. Perks she’ll come to appreciate in time.”
Not if I have anything to do with it. Pure rage courses through my body. My eyes drift to the IV in my arm, and I claw at it, ready to rip it out.
“Stop!” Jeremy holds up his hand. “If you do that, I’m just going to knock you out again and have to put it back in.”
I leave it for the moment, but I stand to walk to the bars, thankful the tube is long enough to allow me some movement.
Jeremy is smart enough to remain out of reach.
“Are we alone down here?” I ask softly. I peruse the other cells, at least what I can see of them, and they appear empty.
Instinctively, I try to screen the area psychically, and my ankle burns again.
“I told you to stop with the psychic shit. You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm.”
I grab my aching head, a low growl percolating in my chest.
Jeremy rubs the bridge of his nose. “If you’re wondering about your partner, unfortunately, he escaped through the window with one of our rings. Someone is going to want to talk to you about that. You and your band of merry men have been a real pain in the ass lately.”
I can’t help but smile at this. Remus is free. At least we have that. I can be replaced. Hell, my alignment is almost over anyway. The Oracle can name another Taurus to the brotherhood. Life will go on.
But even as I think it, my thoughts drift to Zoe.
My death will hurt her, and I regret that.
But I take solace in the fact that she’s human and won’t suffer the deadly fever a dragon mate would.
What matters most now is that I either escape or ensure my death.
I can’t allow them to keep me captive. Now that I’m mated, I could live hundreds of years.
I gesture toward the tube in my arm. “So, is this the plan? Are you going to bleed me out until I’m dead?”
He stands, clasping the book in front of his hips. “What would that serve? If we keep you alive, we’ll have a regular blood supply until you go up in flames. You’re young. We might get fifty years out of you.”
“Let me talk to the destroyer.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll want to meet with you in time. Right now, though, he’s busy planning for the initiation of an army of new recruits, fueled by your blood.” He turns and walks toward the exit.
“I choose the hunt,” I blurt. “I have a right to be hunted to the death rather than imprisoned.”
He looks at me over his shoulder, brow furrowed. “Rights? You have no rights, dragon. Donovan is dead, and the Order is no longer beholden to a peace accord. There is no more choice. You will live or die at the discretion of the destroyer, and right now, he needs you alive.”
He turns for the exit again.
Fury blazes through my veins. I dig my fingers under the tape holding my IV in place and rip it out of my arm, throwing it on the floor.
“You fucking asshole,” Jeremy says, striding back toward my cell. Before he can reach me, I claw the half-full bag of blood from the hook on the side of the chair, toss it on the floor, and stomp on it.
Jeremy yells as the bag pops and blood sprays across the floor. He won’t be using this to make rings anytime soon.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jeremy’s ring glows blue, and a wall of magic barrels into me. My cheek hits the bloody floor, and then I’m out again.