Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Shay’s head was going to explode. She was sure of it.
Pain radiated from the base of her skull, pulsed in her temples, and stung her eyes.
But her suffering didn’t end there—her shoulders screamed, and her entire body felt like one big bruise, like she’d been strung up and beaten with a bat for a few hours.
Or had been thrashed around in a crashing car.
Memories of the crash flooded back to her; the most vivid of them were the terrified cries of her baby.
Leah!
Shay started, lifted her head, and opened her eyes. She immediately regretted it; a spear of pain pierced her skull at the swift movement. She closed her eyes again, panting softly and willing away the nausea turning her stomach as she assessed the situation.
She was standing up, her body weight hanging by her arms and head bowed. She twitched her fingers; her wrists were fastened to the wall behind her by a set of thick, metal manacles, and something just as cold, hard, and terrifyingly familiar was clamped around her neck.
No. Oh no, no, no, no.
“He certainly takes his time,” growled a rough but feminine voice.
“So do you,” snapped another voice—one that Shay knew well. The rage that voice sparked inside her fought back some of Shay’s terror.
Nostrus.
“A hunt takes as long as it takes,” the female replied. “But you’d think he’d be eager to get his hands on them by now.”
Shay slowly openly her eyes and peered through the curtain of tousled hair hanging in her face.
Her heart sank and nearly froze with dread when she caught sight of Leah lying still—so still—inside a box on the floor about a meter away.
The box’s sides and top were clear, with a few airholes on each.
The only thing that kept Shay calm was the subtle rise and fall of Leah’s little chest.
“Master Foltham takes as long as he takes,” Nostrus replied. “You’ll have your pay soon enough, azhera. I’ve no wish to see you here any longer than necessary.”
Azhera?
Vanya?
Was that why the female’s voice seemed familiar, too?
Shay lifted her head slowly. Her hair fell away to either side of her face, allowing her to take in her surroundings.
She was in the back of some sort of transport—bigger than what would’ve been considered a van back on Earth, but along the same lines.
The two doors at the back were open, and Vanya and Nostrus were standing just outside of them.
Manacles lined the walls, the same kind that Murgen had used on Shay—they didn’t physically attach to anything but could be manipulated to allow different lengths and ranges of movement.
Drakkal was standing beside Leah’s box, head slumped forward and body held up only by his wrist bindings.
Vanya snorted. “The feeling is mutual, volturian.”
Drakkal drew in a sharp breath and winced, lifting his head slightly. His ears flattened, and his nostrils flared. When he exhaled, it came out in a groan that stretched into a low, pained growl.
“Seems the marks are waking,” Vanya said.
“Drakkal,” Shay said, keeping her eyes on her mate. “Drakkal, wake up.”
He grunted, brows dropping low as his eyelids fluttered open. His pupils expanded from slits to large circles and back again before his eyes finally met Shay’s and focused. “Kiraia?” he rasped.
There was a snarl from the back of the transport.
She turned her face toward the sound to see Vanya step into the transport.
The azhera stalked over and backhanded Shay across the face.
Shay’s head whipped to the side, the sharp pain—caused primarily by the inner flesh of her cheek breaking against her cheek—receding quickly to a tingling numbness that was somehow even worse.
The irony taste of blood washed over Shay’s tongue.
Vanya grabbed a fistful of Shay’s hair and yanked her head back as far as the wall and collar allowed. “Silence, ji’tas!”
Drakkal roared. The sound was deafening within the confines of the transport, rocking the entire vehicle.
Shay glared up at Vanya and spat. Bloody saliva splattered on the azhera’s face. “Fuck you!”
Vanya recoiled, shock briefly claiming her features. An instant later, her lips pulled back to reveal her pointed fangs, and she raised a clawed hand high as though to strike.
“Master Foltham wants the terrans unharmed,” Nostrus called from outside the vehicle.
Halting her hand, Vanya stared at Shay. The female azhera’s chest was heaving, her nostrils were flared, and her eyes were burning with rage. She curled her fingers, extending her claws further. After a frustrated growl, she dropped her arm and stormed away from Shay.
Just removing herself from temptation, Shay thought, carefully tonguing the sliced flesh of her inner cheek.
“Then he best hurry before I change my mind,” Vanya said as she stepped out of the transport. “He isn’t the only buyer seeking terrans.”
Nostrus looked past Vanya into the vehicle. For a moment, his hate-filled eyes fell on Shay.
Yeah, fuck you, too.
Shay flipped him off.
“You made an agreement with my employer,” Nostrus said, turning back to Vanya.
The female azhera laughed; there was little humor in the sound. “Until we make the exchange, they’re my prisoners. I can do whatever I want with them.”
“Ah, my wayward bounty hunter has finally returned,” Murgen boomed from somewhere outside the transport. Vanya and Nostrus turned to face the direction from which his voice had come.
“Are you all right, kiraia?” Drakkal asked.
Shay looked at her mate. His hackles were raised, and there was a wild, furious gleam in his eyes.
He looked like a beast barely in control.
And could she blame him? Shay was afraid—especially with her still unconscious baby locked up in here—but she was angry, too.
No, not just angry. She was fucking pissed.
“I’m fine,” Shay replied quietly.
Murgen and Vanya were speaking now, but their voices were too low for Shay to make out their words.
“We’re going to get out of this,” Drakkal said.
His features tightened, and his muscles strained as he fought against the restraints.
The wrist cuffs slowly moved away from the wall, a millimeter at a time, trembling with the stress he was putting on his body.
Then the breath he’d been holding burst from his lungs, and his arms slammed back into the wall.
Drakkal’s chest heaved as he panted through his bared fangs. “We’re getting out.”
“Yes, you are,” Vanya said, again calling Shay’s attention.
The female azhera climbed back into the transport, followed by two of Murgen’s burly guards.
Vanya lifted her left wrist and input a command on her holocom.
Simultaneously, Drakkal’s and Shay’s arms dropped away from the wall, only to be swung behind their backs, where the cuffs clanked together and locked tight.
The guards moved to Shay and Drakkal, grabbing the couple by their upper arms. Drakkal growled, opened his mouth wide as though to bite, and lunged toward the guard holding him; a light flashed on the collar around his neck, and his body seized. He dropped to his knees, held up only by the guard.
Shay clenched her teeth against the ache in her heart at seeing her mate in such agony.
“Behave yourself,” Vanya said, patting Drakkal’s cheek before she turned away from him and leaned over Leah’s box.
Red filled Shay’s vision. She snapped her head backward, smashing her skull into the face of the guard behind her. He staggered back, his hold loosening enough for Shay to break free.
She dove for Vanya. “Keep your fucking hands off my baby, you goddamned jealous bitch!”
Shay’s shoulder rammed into Vanya’s chest. The female azhera stumbled into the wall.
Pressing her advantage, Shay lifted her knee, slamming it unto Vanya’s middle and knocking the wind out of the azhera.
Before Shay could strike her again, the guard grabbed her shoulders and dragged her away from Vanya.
“I do hope everything’s all right in there,” Murgen called from outside.
Shay struggled against the guard’s hold, lips peeled back to bare her teeth; she was ready to tear Vanya to pieces. “I’ll fucking kill you if you touch her! I swear I’ll—”
An electric current blasted through Shay’s body, locking all her muscles and sparking a white-hot flash in her brain, more intense than any migraine.
Though it must only have lasted an instant, the fiery agony beneath her skin felt like it had persisted for hours and didn’t immediately fade when the current ceased.
Her knees buckled, and her muscles spasmed in the aftermath of the shock collar’s pulse.
The guard grunted and held her upright by her biceps.
Arms drawn in close to her stomach—with one hand at her holocom’s control screen—Vanya straightened and snarled, “Get that ji’tas out.”
The guard dragged Shay toward the open doors. She had no control over her twitching limbs, no feeling in her fingertips. She understood now why Murgen had never used such force on her while she was his prisoner—there was no doubt in her mind that it would have caused her to lose her baby.
She slitted her eyes as she emerged from the transport; the lights outside were bright and pure, possessing a quality that was dreadfully familiar to her.
Once they’d adjusted, she was unsurprised to find herself in a large room—a loading bay or garage—with the same sleek, clean walls that made up most of Murgen Foltham’s zoo.
Murgen himself was standing a few meters away from the transport, grinning around his big stupid tusks with his hands folded over his gut. He was flanked by Nostrus and several security guards.
“Give me a hand in here,” called the guard still inside the transport.