Chapter 14
Max imagined, somewhat groggily, that this might be what it felt like to get hit with a sledgehammer.
To be honest, it was knowledge that he probably could have done without. He had a plenty active imagination of his own – no need to move to practical experience in this instance.
Cracking his eyes open, he winced and closed them again for a moment, before trying again.
It was hard to tell a lot, really, through all the blurriness, and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure whether it was due to a head injury, or due to not having his glasses on.
He wriggled his nose, quickly determining that his glasses were definitely not perched on top of it.
Okay, at least part of the blurriness was due to the glasses factor. He cursed himself for his idiotic pride earlier on, when he’d told Levi to put them in his pocket – fat lot of good they were doing him there, while he was in what appeared to be some sort of hostage situation.
… Or possibly some sort of sex dungeon situation, if the chains that were rattling around his wrists and ankles were anything to go by.
Either way, the situation wasn’t good. There was only one person he would willingly consider entering a sex dungeon with, and she was currently laid up in a hospital bed.
You damn idiot.
Max cursed himself again, much more thoroughly this time. As if being too insecure to wear his glasses wasn’t enough – he’d left Poppy in the hands of strangers while he went off to have his little pity party. Trustworthy strangers, but strangers nonetheless.
He should’ve been the first thing that Poppy saw when she woke up, not some randos she’d never met before – and who were, he had to admit, at least a little bit odd. A witch with no verbal filter was probably the last person he should’ve left Poppy with. Who knew what kind of things she’d said?
Well, if he made it out of here alive, the first thing he was going to do was find Poppy and apologize, and hope like hell she found it in herself to forgive him.
He could see, now, with the kind of clarity that tended to come with things like being chained up in what may or may not have been a sex dungeon, that he needed to get the hell over himself and let Poppy decide whether she wanted to be with a half-shifter who couldn’t shift, and whose only power was being extra good at being an introvert.
Where was this insight and rationality a few hours ago?! he thought, rattling at the chains in irritation.
“Ah. You’re awake.”
Max jumped – he’d had no idea that there was someone else in here, although, really, it entirely made sense.
People didn’t tend to kidnap other people and then just leave them to rot – no, they had a tendency to tie them up and then pontificate.
Or that was what happened in books, anyway.
Max didn’t have any actual practical experience in this arena.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the details of the room he was in, which appeared to be lit only by weak afternoon sun filtering through the grimy windows. He couldn’t see a whole lot, but a figure emerged from the shadows, the blurriness resolving somewhat as it approached.
It was the clothes Max recognized first. The fine cut, the impeccable tailoring – his captor had to be that weirdo that he and Poppy had met in the woods. The man’s face came into view next, mouth twisted in a vicious grin that bore little resemblance to his earlier ‘mild-mannered tourist’ persona.
Max stared at him, unsure what to say. ‘You!’ felt cliché, and unlikely to elicit any kind of response beyond something irritating like ‘Yes, me’.
‘Why have you done this?’ was also pretty trite, though at least it might garner some useful information.
In the end, though, Max didn’t have to worry about it. The guy was clearly feeling chatty.
“How are you feeling?” the man asked. “I hope I didn’t injure you too badly?”
To be honest, Max had no idea how he’d even gotten here, or what the man had done to him. Now that he thought about it, there was a big gap in his memory.
He could vaguely recall returning to the B&B, sitting at the table in the oddly cold kitchen, and wondering whether Poppy deserved better…
and then, movement. Not the movement of someone else, but movement of himself, slamming into the wall behind him without ever being touched.
A few more slams, and then… nothing, until he woke up a few minutes ago.
Well, that explains the whole ‘hit by a sledgehammer’ thing, I guess.
What it didn’t explain was how the hell he’d gotten slammed into the wall in the first place, given that there had been no one else in the room.
“Ah, is it coming back to you?” the man said gaily, his apparent enjoyment of pointless brutality at odds with the classy cut of his outfit. “Have you never been on the receiving end of a telekinesis blast before? No, I suppose you would not have been.”
Not that Max wanted to admit it, but the man was correct – he never had been slapped around telekinetically before. He didn’t know any shifters with that power, and in any case, he’d spent his life lying low. None of that helped him now, though.
Although, now that he thought about it, this might be a situation where his powers would come in handy. If he could just make the guy forget about him for a while, he might be able to free himself.
He concentrated on becoming unnoticeable, projecting mediocrity for all he was worth. For a moment he thought it might have worked, as the man blinked – but then his attention focused in on him even further.
Dammit, Max thought. Either his powers were on the fritz again, or else the man was just too fixated on him for them to be effective.
His powers always worked best when the person hadn’t been paying much attention to him in the first place, or if there was something else around to serve as an additional distraction, such as other people, or animals, or a television or something.
It was part of the reason why he did so well in restaurants – there was always something going on, and staff had a million other things they were thinking about.
Clearly this guy was focused on Max, and Max only.
He racked his brains, trying to work out how to approach the situation.
As much as he didn’t want to, he might have to keep the guy talking.
It was the only way he was going to get enough information to potentially escape.
He didn’t know where he was, or how long he’d been gone, or what the guy wanted.
The only good thing in all of this was that Poppy hadn’t been with him at the time of the initial attack – he could only hope that she was safe.
Time to exercise those rusty social skills, he thought with an internal sigh.
“No, I’ve never seen someone use telekinesis before,” he said, trying to sound like he was genuinely interested in whatever this weirdo had to say. “I’m just sad that I don’t actually remember what happened. It must’ve been pretty impressive.”
“Oh, it was, it was,” the man said delightedly, and Max hoped that he’d chosen the right approach – clearly the guy was enthusiastic when it came to talking himself up.
The man took off his pristine coat, draping it over the back of a chair. “I’m also sad that you do not recall it. Would you like a demonstration now?”
Max froze. He really did not want to get thrown around the room.
“Uh… you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I believe you. Oh,” he went on weakly, as the man suddenly levitated himself up off the floor. “You can, ah, telekinese yourself. That’s pretty cool.”
“Isn’t it just?” the man said as he hovered above Max, before walking up the far wall and along the ceiling. He paused, looking at Max from his upside-down vantage point, his face slowly turning a dusky pink in the dimness of the room.
Apparently satisfied with his demonstration, he performed a slow, gentle flip back to the ground.
“Very nice,” Max said inanely. What else was there to say?
The man bowed. “Thank you – it does mean a lot that you would say that. Unfortunately I was unable to float you out of the window of your residence quite so gracefully. You are quite tall, and the window was quite small. There was some knocking of limbs against windowpanes.”
Max grimaced.
Fantastic. This day just gets better and better.
… And why the hell didn’t he just levitate me out the front door, like a sane person? There was no one else there to see!!
“So,” he said. “May I ask… just why did you feel the need to knock me out and float me through the window? And where are we now?”
He held his breath, wondering if he’d pushed too hard too fast. But, it seemed, the man was very happy to talk.
“To answer your final question first: we are in some kind of shack in the forest, which I have made some, ah, additions to.” He made a flicking gesture toward the chains holding Max to the wall, and they clanked in response.
“There was originally a lock on the door, but human locks are no match for telekinesis.” He tilted his head, expression confused.
“Honestly, I am not sure why they even bother.”
Max tried to keep his expression neutral. Finally, some useful information: this guy wasn’t human. That explained a lot. Max still wasn’t getting any real shifter vibes off him, though – they tended to come across as regular humans, whereas this guy was weirdly stilted.
Maybe he was a warlock? His affect was kind of similar to Margot’s, though in her case it felt more like a lack of regular human social graces, while this guy was just… off. And anyway, Margot was presumably human, odd though she was. Most witches and warlocks were.
Then again, maybe this guy was a shifter, while also just being a pompous dick.
Luckily for Max, the man was happy to continue on without his input.
“As to your other question: I felt the need to knock you out and float you through the window because I needed you as bait.”