Chapter 5 #3
“I mean you’re no Luke Skywalker, but I’m assuming you’re here to rescue me.” He shifted on the mattress, trying to pull his legs up underneath him so he could sit up. “I’m feeling very Princess Leia in the cute white outfit right now.”
Winter could only blink at him. He was lucky his brain was working to keep the air flowing through his lungs.
This was all wrong. He hadn’t expected there to be other prisoners.
He hadn’t checked the entire house. Was the witch being kept in another room?
He’d been positive the witch would be at Damon’s.
There was no way the damn vampire trusted anyone enough to protect the witch.
When Winter didn’t reply, the man heaved an enormous sigh. “You’re one of those really old vampires, aren’t you? One of those who doesn’t like moving pictures. How can you not know Star Wars?”
“I know Star Wars,” Winter grumbled, though he wished he hadn’t. It was the least important thing to focus on at the moment. “Who are you? Why is Damon holding you prisoner?”
“Fox Turner,” he replied with a grin. “These bastards grabbed me because of some stupid prophecy.”
“Wait! You’re a witch? The witch?” Winter pointed the knife at Fox.
Fox’s smile dimmed as his eyes locked on the sharp edge of the knife. “Yep, I’m a witch.” He swallowed hard and seemed to regain some of his bravado as he winked at Winter’s confused expression. “You were expecting a woman, right?”
“I thought male witches were called warlocks or wizards.”
“Nope, witch is gender-neutral among my kind, thank you very much. Wizards are for Harry Potter.”
“Lovely,” Winter muttered.
This was all going wrong. Not that it should matter whether the witch in the prophecy was a man or a woman. All that was important was this person supposedly bringing the destruction of the Varik clan, and Winter was not going to allow that.
Fox was finally sitting upright in the bed. He flexed his fingers a few times as if trying to get blood flow back into them. “But you are here to rescue me, right? I’ve been here at least two nights, and they’re starting to get a little frisky over who gets to drain me.”
Winter hesitated. “Rescue” was not a term that had entered his brain when it came to dealing with the witch and the prophecy. He’d not let himself think about the witch being a person. He couldn’t if he was going to end her…rather, his…life to protect his family.
If Winter were honest with himself, he hadn’t planned for the stealing part. He’d largely expected this to be a quick execution, and then he would escape to Connecticut and his family.
But was this Fox Turner guilty of anything other than being named in a prophecy?
It was clear he was there against his will if Damon felt the need to tie him up in a barren room and set two guards outside his door.
“Why are you trying to destroy the Variks?” Winter demanded.
“Look, I have no idea who the Variks are, and I’ve got no beef with them. And I definitely have no idea why they think I’m the witch mentioned in this stupid prophecy. Trust me, they’ve got the wrong guy.”
Winter didn’t miss the tremor in Fox’s voice or the growing desperation. Beneath his earlier joking and bravado was a thick wall of fear that he was doing his best to hide. There was a good chance that, just like Cara, Fox was entirely innocent and had been grabbed by Damon’s goons.
And Winter didn’t kill innocent people if he could help it.
“Man, come on. I don’t know what all that commotion was about earlier, but we got to get out of here while the getting is good!” Fox lifted his bound hands as much as he could, pulling at the rope.
Winter’s eyes skimmed over his slim form and muscled forearms straining against the rope. There were fading bruises on his arms and face. A dried trickle of blood cut across his temple. Damon’s men likely knocked him out so they could kidnap him more easily.
Clenching his teeth, Winter nearly snarled at the swell of need inside of him.
He didn’t want to kill Fox. He wanted to protect him.
This man was too like Cara and all the other dead haunting Damon’s grounds.
People he couldn’t save, but Fox was right in front of him, wide green eyes begging Winter to set him free.
“Please, man. They’re gonna kill me, I know it,” Fox pleaded. His hands shook as he held them out toward Winter.
Winter wasn’t sure if Fox was telling the truth about his involvement with the prophecy, but he did believe that. Whether Fox willingly helped Damon or not, he was living on borrowed time while in this house.
“Fuck,” Winter swore softly. This wasn’t supposed to be the hard part.
Time was ticking down, and they were going to lose their window.
If he took Fox with him now, it meant he was away from Damon and his goons.
That was a plus. He didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do with him afterward.
But if they could escape Damon’s place and return to his own house, then he could question Fox safely, find out what he knew about the prophecy.
Winter hurried across the last few feet separating them and pressed the knife to the ropes, but he didn’t cut. “I set you free, you come with me. You do exactly what I say, or we’re never going to get out of here alive.”
“Sure. Of course,” Fox agreed eagerly. Winter figured the guy would at least behave until they were away from Damon’s.
Grumbling silently in his head, Winter sawed through the ropes, setting the witch free. For a second, Winter held his breath, waiting for it all to blow up in his face. But nothing happened. Fox let out a grateful sigh as he rubbed his red wrists.
“Thanks!”
“Silence,” Winter hissed.
“Anything you say, sexy.”
Winter rolled his eyes and ignored the unexpected flutter through his stomach as he grabbed Fox’s arm and pulled him to his feet. Sexy was not a term anyone had ever used to describe him. Evil, frightening, and bastard were all common terms, but definitely not sexy.
He quickly released him again and rushed to the one window in the room. Checking it for alarms, he disabled them with the knife and thrust open the window. Heat and the scent of sweat pressed close as Fox looked around him and out to the back lawn.
“That’s a bit of a drop,” Fox observed a bit nervously.
“You don’t happen to be one of those vampires who shapeshift into things, do you?
Like maybe a giant bird.” They were only on the second floor.
Not an impossible drop. Winter had made plenty from this height and managed just fine. He wasn’t as sure about the witch.
“Vampires don’t shapeshift, witch. Besides, we’re not going this way,” Winter announced as he stepped back from the window.
“But…” Fox started, looking from him to the window. A slow smile spread across his lips. “Oh, a red herring. A bit of misdirection.”
“Exactly. Now, shut up.”
Grabbing Fox’s arm, he pulled him in until the other man’s elbow brushed his side and they moved to the exit. Carefully, Winter opened the door and peeked out. The hallway was still empty. He tapped his power, also opening up the veil between worlds.
“Whoa…” Fox whispered.
Winter glared at him and Fox snapped his mouth closed with a wide smile.
He even made the motion of zipping his lips shut, locking it, and throwing the imaginary key over his shoulder.
Winter internally groaned and pulled them both through the opening.
As he sealed the rift, he also grabbed the knob behind Fox, closing the door as well.
Fox’s silence wasn’t required for stealth now that they were in the dead world, but Winter definitely appreciated the lack of distractions from the man. So far, only a little “eep” had slipped out of him, but one look at the man saw it was an excited eep rather than a terrified one.