Chapter 33
I was cold.
That was the first thing I realized when I slowly drifted out of the black fog that consumed every part of my being.
Shivers skated up and down my body. I didn’t know I could be this cold. My skin was chilled to the bone, and icy dampness seeped through my dress. How…how could I be this cold? It had been chilly earlier, in the low sixties, but this felt as if I were lying in a mound of fallen snow.
Confusion swept through me as I tried to remember what I’d been doing before I…
before I fell asleep. That was what’d happened, right?
No. That didn’t make sense. I tried to open my eyes, but they were heavy and felt as if they were glued shut as cloudy images of my living room flickered through the fog in my mind. I’d been there…
What was going on?
I willed my eyes to open, but the concentration sent a sharp burst of pain bouncing around my skull. Wincing, I kept my eyes closed as the throbbing slowly dulled. Did I have an injury? That would explain the confusion and pain, but how did it happen? I was in my house, having…
I’d come home and…
Aric.
My heart rate kicked up as the lost memories crashed through the wall of nothingness and flooded me. He’d been waiting for me when I came home. He’d been so fast, on me before I even had a chance to scream or release my blades.
He’d fed on me.
Oh, God. That bastard had used me like I was a juice box.
My lips tingled from the memory of his icy breath and the horror of the feeding that resurfaced.
It had felt nothing like when Cad—when the King had done it.
That had been orgasmic, but this…this had felt like frigid claws reaching deep into my very core, tearing through bone and tissue and yanking out what made me who I was.
Now I remembered. The tide of pain had sucked me under into an abyss.
How much had Aric taken from me? Based on the way my head felt, more than enough.
I needed to get up. I needed to figure out where the hell I was, and then I needed to find that bastard and kill him a million times over.
Turning my head, I stopped suddenly when something hard bit into my neck like a frigid vise.
My eyes flew open as I lifted my hand to my neck.
Metal—cold and unforgiving—encircled my throat.
I pressed my palm against the band, my fingers digging into the narrow space between it and my skin as I jerked upward and scanned the…
“What the hell?” I croaked out, my voice hoarse.
I wasn’t home, that much I knew, and that was about all I knew. The flames did very little to beat back the shadows, but what I could see reminded me of… God, it reminded me of some kind of underground tomb.
A tomb.
Pressure clamped down on my chest as my wild gaze darted around the circular chamber.
Two torches jutted out from a grayish brick wall, spaced several feet apart.
Dark and ropey lines climbed from the low ceiling and down the walls, forming a network of veins.
Vines? Across from me was a slab of stone standing about five feet high.
The center was stained with something…dark.
That was when I realized that I was on a similar rectangular stone bed.
Holy crap.
I was in a damn crypt, chained by the freaking neck to a stone slab that had quite possibly been used to murder people based on the stain.
My hair fell forward and slipped over my bare shoulders as I lifted my arm.
Dread exploded. Part of me already knew what I was going to see when I looked down, and I wasn’t wrong.
The bracelet that held the four-leaf clover was missing.
Without it, I was susceptible to a fae’s glamour.
Jesus.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I struggled to stay calm. I was trapped by a psychotic creature, and I knew how this was going to end.
Not with me breathing.
No. I couldn’t think like that. I dragged in a deep, musty breath as I struggled to push back the creeping panic. I couldn’t focus on that scenario. If I did, I’d have no chance of surviving this.
Opening my eyes, I ignored the pounding of my heart as I drew up my legs and swung them off the edge of the slab.
A wave of dizziness rolled over me, and I took another deep breath before I picked up the heavy chain and stood, wincing as my bare feet touched the floor.
I didn’t think about how I’d lost my shoes since those suckers would’ve had to be removed as I followed the length of the chain to the metal hook embedded in the stone floor.
There were several feet of chain, allowing me to edge toward the darkened area of the chamber, but not long enough to reach what appeared to be a wooden door.
“Damn it,” I snapped, stepping back between the two slabs.
I refocused, looking around the room until my gaze stopped on the vines.
It seemed like the chamber was underground, but it was rare to find such a place in New Orleans and the surrounding areas.
Had I been taken out of the city? And if so, how far?
Or was this a place designed to appear as if it were below ground?
If I was still near the city, I had complete faith that I’d figure out where I was the moment I got outside. If I knew anything, it was the layout of New Orleans and the surrounding areas.
I’d just have to get out of this tomb first.
Tightening my grip on the chain, I looked down at the heavy metal. My thumb smoothed over a rusted section, causing some of the oxidation to flake off.
Wait.
That wasn’t rust.
It was dried blood.
Jesus.
Stomach churning, I almost dropped the links as I lifted my gaze to the door. The chain freaked me out, but it was also a weapon. An image of Princess Leia choking the ever-loving crap out of Jabba the Hutt formed.
I could do that. In fact, the scene of me strangling Aric to death replaced the one from Return of the Jedi, and it filled me with a rather unhealthy amount of glee. Twisting the chain around my hands, I waited.
I didn’t have to wait long.
The sound of footfalls was like a breath of air along the back of my neck. Darting toward the slab, I shifted the chain behind my back and leaned against the stone, hiding the chain. Every muscle in my body tensed painfully.
A stuttered heartbeat later, the door creaked open, and fresh air rushed in—rose-scented air.
I was either near a garden or, if I was underground, I couldn’t be that far.
I filed that little piece of information away.
Aric stood in the doorway, appearing alone.
His broad shoulders nearly took up the entire width of the opening as he ducked and stepped through the door.
A whoosh went through the room, startling me. Fire sparked, and the remaining torches flared to life, nearly a dozen of them casting flickering light into the chamber.
I’d been right about the vines, but now I also saw that there were chains mixed among them.
“I thought you’d still be asleep,” Aric said, his deep voice tinged with amusement.
The links of the chain I held pressed into my palms. “Sorry to disappoint you. I’m wide-awake, asshole.”
He chuckled as he straightened. The door behind him swung shut, cutting off the flow of fresher, warmer air. “Don’t apologize, I am thrilled that you’re awake.”
I lifted my chin, forcing myself to breathe steady and sure. “Where am I?”
“Where I want you to be.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Aric smirked as he stopped just a few feet inside the chamber, out of my reach. “You’re right outside the city. I believe this used to be an old tomb that has partially sunken underground.”
Shock splashed through me.
“You seem surprised that I told you.” He inclined his head. “I’m not worried about you escaping. Not at all.”
Fury quickly replaced the surprise, prickling at my skin. “I wouldn’t be too confident about that.”
His gaze flickered over me. “Your courage is…admirable, but I have no reason not to be overconfident.”
I forced out a laugh even though my heart raced. “There’s a very fine line between confidence and arrogance.”
“True.” He smoothed an imaginary wrinkle on his white, linen shirt. “But there is a difference. Not that you’d know anything about confidence.”
“Really?” My spine stiffened. “You know nothing about me.”
“I know everything about you, Brighton Jussier,” he replied. “You’re thirty years old, never married, and childless. Once devoted to taking care of your poor, unstable mother, you’re now devoted to finding and killing me.”
My chest rose with a heavy breath. “Did you read my Facebook profile or something?”
He laughed. “You were born into the Order, but you’re not a true member.
Other than hunting me, you do not hunt fae.
How do you mortals put it? You were put out to pasture before you even grazed.
They do not see you as remotely useful to their goals.
You’re simply allowed to be because of who your parents were. ”
I flinched as his words landed a blow on the still open wound left behind by Ivy and Ren, both who doubted my ability to do anything more than read a map. There was too much truth to what Aric said.
“The only reason you ever even came onto my radar was because you were seen aiding the wounded Summer Prince.”
He was talking about Fabian, and the night the Queen had been forced back into the Otherworld, when I’d helped transport the Prince back to Hotel Good Fae.
“Other than that, you’re fairly unremarkable. Well, with the exception of fucking the King,” he remarked, and my breath caught. “Then again, at one time, he was known for having very little taste when it came to his partners.”
That would’ve stung if I weren’t currently chained up in a tomb.
“So, do you still think I don’t know anything about you, little bird?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? Isn’t that what Caden calls you?”
The sound of his name was like a shock to the system, one I couldn’t afford to be distracted by. “No. He doesn’t call me that.”