Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
A listair’s mouth felt as dry as the Sahara. And it tasted foul. He blinked, trying to get his eyes to work. He had been drugged, and now he had to figure out where he was. He put a hand on his belly, pleased to note that he wasn’t bound hand and foot. This way he had a chance of getting out.
The magical dampener put a bit of a kibosh on things, he knew, and his fingers hovered over it for a moment. He didn’t dare touch it, for who knew what sort of spell it had on it? But it was keeping him from reaching out with his mind to find Des.
If he could even do that anymore, as much as they’d been apart.
“Okay, sprite,” he said to his baby. “It’s you and me. And we need to get ourselves out of this.” Des might not even know he was gone yet. He had no idea what Lila would do if he didn’t show. He’d been napping a lot lately, so she might think he’d just fallen asleep and forgotten their meet.
He breathed in, then out, his head clearing with every inhale and exhale. He could do this. He could rescue himself.
He looked about, finding himself in a luxurious glass and chrome bedroom. Not his thing at all. He was totally cottage core, which made his and Des’s penthouse sort of ridiculous, but there it was.
Des didn’t seem to mind.
His chest ached, and he missed his mate suddenly with a sharp, awful intensity.
Des? Can you hear me?
Of course there was no answer. The damned collar. Would Des hear him even if it wasn’t there?
He finally managed to crawl out of the bed he sat on, his legs shaking. It took him a moment to find his footing, but then he began to explore the room, trying to find a way out.
Sadly, while it was a luxurious room, it had remote control blinds that were locked into place, and the attached en suite had no windows.
It was an effective prison.
“Dammit.”
He stood in the center of the room, looking around for something to make into a weapon. Which, of course, was when the rattle of the door being unlocked sounded. An omega dragon, slight of build and worried around the eyes, came in carrying a tray.
“I brought you some food. Did you find the bathroom?”
“I did, thank you.” He stared at the young one, who was not a child at all, but was clearly very young. “What’s your name?”
Those pretty gold eyes widened. “I am no one, sir.”
“That is clearly not true.” He sighed, stifling it so it didn’t make any sound. “Can you tell me where I am?”
The lad cleared his throat. “You are a guest of the Galandel clan, sir.” He set the tray on a table near the door, then began to sidle back toward it.
“Wait. Please.” He held out a hand, but didn’t advance on the young man. “I just— Is there any way I can get this collar off?”
“I’m sorry, sir. But my employer said to leave it on.” The lad hightailed it out of the room, locking it behind him.
Dammit.
He went to sniff at the food. Even with his magic dampened, his nose would tell him if it was drugged. He didn’t want to take a chance on that again. Both the soup and bread meal and the water were safe, so he tucked in, his body reminding him he was pregnant and that he’d missed Luigi’s.
“I could be having pasta and bread to die for,” he grumbled.
The soup was actually quite nice, and the bread was exquisite.
“Okay, so pasta would be better, but this bread is great. And I’m talking to myself.
” He finished up his meal, then began to search the room again, this time for something he could use to pry open the collar.
He had to get out of here, but more importantly, he had to get in touch with Des and let him know he was alive and well. Des would go on a rampage looking for him, and all the hard diplomacy work he’d been doing would be destroyed.
He wasn’t sure Des would forgive him for that.
Alistair felt so stupid being kidnapped.
“Hmmm.” The bedframe was wood, just a platform, and there was no box springs. Just a mattress. There was no mirror. In fact, there was very little furniture.
He did have the dishes he’d been left, though…
He examined them, nodding. Okay, so maybe the fork or spoon would help with the collar. No one had been dumb enough to leave him a knife.
Taking a deep breath, he reached up to touch the collar, knowing it probably had some sort of spell built int to defend itself.
And, in fact, when he touched it, it stung his fingers like a bug zapper.
Okay, that wasn’t too bad. And he knew a little about magic. His original clan made and bespelled things like this collar for a living. All he had to do was fight the urge to save his fingers and find where the buzz was the strongest.
There he would find the hidden clasp that he needed to pry open.
It took a few false tries, but he finally stopped jumping and worrying the collar would kill him when he probed at it. He found the center of the buzzing sensation, then dug about until he found out where to put the fork.
“No stabbing yourself,” he muttered. He put the fork into the hardcore buzz area and poked around. “Ow. Ow, ow, ow.” He stabbed at the damn thing with the fork, wishing he had his own magic to work on it.
The sound when it clicked open seemed to echo in the room.
“Oh my goddess.” He stared at the magic dampener, then ran to the bathroom and tossed it into the toilet. Des? Des? Can you hear me?
The blast he got back was so immediate and loud it made his ears ring.
Starry! Where are you?
The Galandels have me. I don’t know where. I just got the dampening collar off.
I’ll kill them.
Not until after I come home. He actually chuckled, knowing Des was going to want to strangle him for that.
What can you tell me?
The windows are shuttered with metal blinds from the inside. I’m in a guest room. Very spare. Very glass and chrome. A young dragon brought me soup and bread. But I was in a magic dampener, and they drugged me.
See if there’s anything you can tell me. Anything at all.
Okay. He understood. The damn Galandel clan owned a lot of property. If he could give Des any kind of idea where he was…
He looked back at the dishes. He lifted the bowl his soup had come in, and sure enough, there was a napkin printed with the name of high-rise hotel chain. Holy shit.
Guestel, Des. Whichever one is closest to the Galandel tower.
Satisfaction roared through their bond. I’m on my way.
He sat on the bed, smiling a little. He could shift, no doubt, and tear the blinds off the windows. But that would bring whatever guards there were down on his head. No, he would just sit and wait for his mate.
That would be ever so much more satisfying.