Chapter 55
fifty-five
Kit
Kit awoke with his hands and feet chained in iron, his body hot with suppressed magic. He was tied to a chair in a swelteringly hot trailer, and a quick look through the window revealed the distant outline of Skadra.
He also heard crying. He looked down.
Amelia was sitting on the ratty, filthy carpet, her hands rubbing at a reddened throat. Kit realized she’d been scratching at her throat in an attempt to talk. “Amelia, honey, please don’t do that.”
The little girl jumped at the sound of his voice and turned around, her eyes wide with relief. She threw her arms around him and then hissed when the chains burned her skin. Only then did he notice that Amelia was also wearing iron cuffs. Anger went through him at the sight.
“Where’s the person who grabbed us?” he asked, looking around the vacant trailer.
Amelia pointed to the door and then made a stirring motion with her hands. Kit understood at once — he’s outside and brewing a potion on a fire. That couldn’t be good. “Okay, sweetie,” he began, “you’re going to have to start looking for something sharp.”
Just then, the door opened and a tall, handsome man walked in.
He wore a suit with the jacket off, his sleeves rolled up.
If it weren’t for the dried blood on the immaculate white of his dress shirt, Drayer Netherton wouldn’t have been out of place on the campaign trail. He smiled charmingly at Kit.
“Oh look, you’re awake,” he said, “we can’t have that. Good thing I made this.” He showed off a vial in his hands.
The politician kicked Amelia out of the way when she tried to stop him, and then he used a nasty bit of magic to force Kit’s mouth open. He poured the concoction in.
Kit gurgled on the potion, swallowing only when it was clear that Netherton would let him drown before letting him spit it out.
Drayer pet Kit’s hair like he was a dog. “Good boy,” he said affectionately, “you really will make a fine vampyre. For taking my sister away from me, I’ll make you hurt for a long, long time.”