Chapter 11 Taken
Chapter eleven
Taken
Jade
The air still crackled where Magnur had stood moments before, I watched the empty space in the doorway, half-expecting him to materialize again, to change his mind about leaving me behind.
I closed the door and pressed my forehead against the cool wood, listening to the deadbolt click into place.
What good was a lock against someone who had set fire to my apartment?
I wasn’t even sure the lock was meant to keep Trevor out so much as keep me in, safely tucked away where Magnur could be certain I wouldn’t do anything stupid.
Like follow him.
“Dammit,” I whispered to the empty penthouse.
I turned and leaned against the door, taking in the space that had felt so intimate when he was in it. Now it seemed cavernous, the high ceilings and minimal furniture emphasizing how small I was without him.
My phone weighed heavy in my hand. No messages. Not even a “got here safe” text, which seemed like the bare minimum courtesy when your mate goes racing off to confront a potential arsonist. But maybe that was human thinking. Did demons bother with text message check-ins?
I unlocked the screen and stared at the text app. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard, typing and deleting half a dozen messages before settling on something simple.
“You ok?”
I hit send, then immediately regretted it. What if he was hiding? What if he was in the middle of confronting Trevor and my text alert gave away his position? What if—
I slammed the phone face-down on the counter. This was ridiculous, Magnur was a literal demon. Trevor was just a man. A pathetic, obsessive man who had never shown any supernatural abilities in the years I’d wasted on him.
I pushed off from the door and started pacing, my bare feet silent against the polished concrete floors.
“This is bullshit,” I muttered, making another lap around the living room. “I shouldn’t be here.”
I should be with him, helping. Facing Trevor myself instead of hiding like some fairytale princess in a tower while the monster fought my battles. But I wasn’t stupid, either. As much as I hated to admit it, Magnur was right, Trevor was escalating in dangerous ways.
I moved to the windows, pressing my palm against the cool glass as I searched the skyline. Somewhere out there was Magnur, possibly confronting Trevor right now. And here I was, useless, waiting for news like women had been forced to do for centuries.
Something cold and heavy settled between my shoulder blades, I rolled my shoulders, trying to dislodge it, but the sensation persisted. It was like the feeling you get when you’re alone in a house and suddenly certain that you’re being watched.
I glanced at my phone again. Twenty minutes had passed since Magnur left. How long did it take to check an apartment?
The weight between my shoulder blades grew heavier. Something was wrong. I knew it with the same certainty I’d known to leave Trevor, a dark feeling building in my chest telling me I was in danger.
The overhead light flickered once, twice, then stabilized.
I froze, every nerve ending suddenly alert as the light dimmed and brightened again, like something was drawing power from it.
I tilted my head, listening. Since arriving at Magnur’s home, I’d been aware of a constant, subtle vibration, a background hum that I’d attributed to the building’s wards.
They had been a steady presence, like the white noise of an air conditioner you only notice when it stops.
And they were stopping now. Stuttering. Fading in and out like a radio signal at the edge of its range.
“No, no, no,” I whispered, turning in a slow circle as I tried to pinpoint where the disruption was coming from. The sound diminished again, the magical frequency dropping.
The air around me changed, pressure building in my ears until they popped painfully. I swallowed hard, trying to equalize the sudden shift. The penthouse felt wrong, like the moment before a thunderstorm when everything goes still and heavy, charged with potential disaster.
Something was very wrong.
The lights flickered again, more violently this time, plunging the apartment into darkness for a few terrifying seconds before reluctantly returning.
In those seconds, I swore I saw something move in the shadows near the elevator, a darkening of already dark space, a shifting that shouldn’t have been possible.
I backed away from it, bumping into the kitchen island.
My hand fumbled blindly behind me, searching for anything that might serve as a weapon.
I came away with a heavy marble mortar that Magnur used for grinding herbs. Not ideal, but better than nothing.
My eyes remained fixed on the spot where I’d seen movement, but nothing materialized. Just shadows and the continuing irregular rhythm of the failing wards. I couldn’t shake the sensation of being watched, of something pressing against Magnur’s protections from the outside, testing for weaknesses.
Or had it already found its way in?
The protective hum dropped several octaves, became arrhythmic and jarring. Whatever magic sustained the wards was being actively disrupted, and I had a sinking feeling that Magnur himself was in trouble. If his magic was tied to these protections, what did their failure mean for him?
I had a decision to make. Stay put as instructed, where at least some protection remained, or go find out what had happened to Magnur.
The wards gave another sickening lurch, the vibration dropping to almost nothing before briefly resurging.
If they failed completely, I would be alone and unprotected in this penthouse anyway. Better to act while I still could.
I set down the mortar and moved purposefully toward Magnur’s bedroom. If I was going into potential danger, I needed clothes more substantial than my pajamas. I quickly changed into a hoodie and leggings before slipping into a pair of sneakers.
I grabbed his car keys from the silver dish by the door where he’d dropped them earlier.
Magnur’s car was a sleek black thing that probably cost more than my entire year’s salary but it would get me to my apartment faster than waiting for a rideshare.
The parking garage was only an elevator ride away, and whatever was happening to the wards didn’t seem to be affecting the building’s power system yet.
I stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the parking garage.
As the doors closed, cutting me off from the relative safety of Magnur’s home, a shiver ran down my spine.
The elevator began its descent, numbers ticking down on the digital display.
I used the time to scroll through my contacts, thumb hovering over “Leon“—the club owner whose number Magnur had insisted I save “just in case.” This seemed like exactly the kind of case he’d meant, but what would I even say?
“Hi, we met briefly at your sex club, and now I think my demon mate might be in trouble“?
Maybe after I assessed the situation myself. If things were truly dire, I’d call. But first, I needed to see what I was dealing with.
The thread pulsed weakly as the elevator neared the garage level. I closed my eyes, focusing on it, trying to send strength and determination through our connection.
“I’m coming,” I whispered as the doors slid open to reveal the concrete expanse of the underground parking area. “Hold on.”
I stepped out, keys clutched in my fist, every sense heightened with that terrible cocktail of fear and adrenaline.
I moved quickly, scanning the rows for Magnur’s black car while fighting the sensation that something wasn’t right.
I clutched the keys tighter, the metal edges biting into my palm.
The fob had a panic button. One press and the car alarm would scream through the enclosed space, possibly attracting attention from other residents. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Three rows in, I spotted Magnur’s car, relief flooded through me as I quickened my pace. Just get to the car. Get to my apartment. Find Magnur.
That crawling sensation intensified, spreading from my neck down my spine. I stopped abruptly, turning in a slow circle to survey the garage. Nothing but concrete pillars and silent cars. Still, I couldn’t shake the certainty that I wasn’t alone.
“Calm down,” I muttered to myself, resuming my path toward Magnur’s car with renewed determination. “This isn’t helping anyone.”
“Jade.”
The voice made me freeze, I pushed down the immediate nausea hoping for a moment that I’d imagined it. Slowly, I turned toward the sound.
Trevor stood half-hidden behind a concrete pillar, his familiar silhouette stepping into the harsh fluorescent light. He looked terrible, hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled like he’d been wearing them for days, eyes too bright with an energy that seemed almost manic.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice echoing in the cavernous space.
“I just want to talk.” He stepped closer, hands raised in a gesture of peace that did nothing to soothe the alarm bells screaming in my head. “You’re making a mistake, Jade. With that...thing. That monster.”
My finger inched closer to the panic button, but something told me that help wouldn’t arrive quickly enough if I pressed it.
“The only mistake I made was wasting all those years with you,” I said, keeping my voice steady despite the fear churning in my gut. “Leave me alone, Trevor.”
“You don’t understand what you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in,” he insisted, taking another step toward me. “These creatures aren’t what they seem. They’re dangerous, manipulative. They’ll use you and throw you away.”
I almost laughed at the irony, Trevor accusing anyone else of being manipulative. “Sounds like you’re projecting,” I replied, edging sideways toward the car. “Now get out of my way.”
“I can’t let you go back to him.” Trevor moved faster than I expected, blocking my path to the car. “I’ve been watching you, Jade. I know what’s happening. I know what he is.”
“Move,” I ordered, stepping forward with far more confidence than I felt. “Now.”
For a moment, it seemed like he might actually listen. Then his hand shot out, grabbing my upper arm. “You’re coming with me,” he said, his reasonable tone evaporating completely. “We need to talk somewhere private.”
I reacted instantly, muscle memory from the self-defense classes I’d taken after leaving him. I twisted my arm in the direction of his thumb and simultaneously drove my knee up toward his groin. He managed to turn just enough to avoid the full impact, but I broke his hold and staggered back.
“Don’t touch me!” I shouted, hoping someone, anyone, might hear. “Help! Someone help!”
Trevor lunged for me again, his face contorted with rage now, all pretense of calm rationality gone. “Shut up!” he hissed. “You’re making a scene.”
“That’s the fucking point!” I screamed, backing away from him toward the nearest car. “HELP!”
His hand clamped over my mouth, the other arm snaking around my waist as he tried to drag me toward a dark sedan parked two spaces over. I bit down hard on his palm, tasting blood as my teeth broke skin. He yelped but didn’t release me.
I threw my weight backward, making us both stagger. We crashed against a parked car, the impact jarring but creating enough distraction for me to slam my elbow into his ribs. His grip loosened just enough for me to wrench free, spinning to face him.
“Stay the fuck away from me,” I warned, brandishing my keys like a weapon.
“You don’t get it,” Trevor growled, holding his bleeding hand against his chest. “He's not what you think he is. He’s using you, Jade.”
I saw my opening, a clear path between cars that would let me circle back toward the elevator.
I bolted, making it a few steps before Trevor tackled me from behind, the impact driving us both to the concrete floor.
My knees and palms skidded painfully against the rough surface, the keys flying from my grasp and skittering under a nearby car.
“You’re not listening,” he snarled, flipping me onto my back with frightening strength. “You never fucking listen!”
I thrashed beneath him, scratching at his face, bucking my hips to throw him off. My nails caught his cheek, leaving three red furrows that immediately welled with blood. He bellowed in pain and rage, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head with one hand.
“I am not going back with you,” I spat, still fighting despite the disadvantage. “I am not yours. I never was.”
Something shifted in his eyes then, a coldness I’d glimpsed only rarely during our relationship, usually just before he destroyed something I loved as “punishment” for some slight.
“You made me do this,” he said, the calm returning to his voice in a way that was more terrifying than his rage. “I was trying to save you from him.”
I saw his hand rise, knew what was coming but couldn’t move fast enough to avoid it. The blow caught me on the temple, pain exploding through my skull like fireworks. My vision blurred, sounds warping around me as he hauled me upright.
I fought through the haze, clawing at him even as my coordination faltered. He dragged me toward his car, swearing as I grabbed onto the door frame of a nearby vehicle, refusing to make this easy for him.
“Let go!” he commanded, prying my fingers loose one by one. “Stop fighting me!”
The thread connecting me to Magnur gave one desperate pulse, stronger than it had been since the wards started failing. I clung to that sensation, focusing on it as Trevor finally broke my grip on the door frame and shoved me toward his waiting car.
“Magnur,” I whispered, blood from my split lip making the word sticky in my mouth. I reached again for our connection, trying to send one last desperate message through the thread as Trevor forced me into his back seat.
The last thing I saw was his face above mine before another blow sent pain lancing through my head. Then darkness swallowed everything, and I fell into it thinking of red eyes and the promise of safety I’d only just begun to trust.