Chapter 38 Mona
I don't know how much time passes. My body aches like I've been beaten, but I know it wasn't as bad as last time. This feels different. Heavier, more subdued. It's dark, the floor beneath me rumbling.
I try to roll over, but knock into another body.
It's Andrea. She's awake, and her hands are tied. With silver, probably, judging by the stench of burning flesh steaming up from behind her. I'm tied, too, but not with silver. Still, I can barely move.
Andrea's eyes widen, her eyebrows making expressive gestures, but I don't know what she's trying to tell me. I can barely keep up with current events. I try calling for Beep, but she's not answering. I can still feel her, but it's like… the door is closed.
A cloth is wrapped around Andrea's mouth. She's trying to mouth something to me, but I can't understand.
Then her nostrils flare. And I remember, I have other senses too. My sense of smell isn't as strong right now for some reason, but I can tell the person driving the van is a witch. We bounce around in the back, tossed together like airport luggage. It's just the three of us.
My head is pounding, but something else is wrong, and it's there, in the back of my mind… How I felt this morning—sluggish and cranky, hormonal—it's tenfold now. And my skin feels itchy. Kind of hot.
Andrea's still making eyebrows at me, so I wiggle toward her. She rears back until she realizes what I'm trying to do. Then she shoves her head at me so fast, her hard forehead knocks mine and I have to swallow the yelp.
I quickly glance up at the driver. He can't hear us, not if we're quiet. He's not a shifter, he doesn't have our senses. Still, we can't be loud.
Back to the task, I wiggle closer, gripping the cloth around Andrea's mouth with my teeth. I saw through it, awkwardly, and she helps, and it probably looks like we're making out, but that would be better than the alternative if the witch notices.
But he doesn't, too focused on the long road ahead. I don't know where we are, but I can feel in my heart the further we drive away from Silent Peak.
Eventually we get the mouthpiece off, and Andrea frantically whispers, "They spelled you. They tried to spell me but it burned off. It was fucking Stance, that useless piece of shit. When I get my hands on him—"
"Andrea! Focus!" I hiss.
She nods. "Right. You're right. Look, I don't know what they want, but they're taking you to a secondary location in Canada."
"Isn't that where Grayson and Orion went?"
She nods. "Yes, but their seer saw them coming. Not the attack, exactly, but the witches suspected you'd be unprotected."
Panic rips through me. "Grayson and Orion—"
"They'll be fine. Probably. They're with Kendrick. I'm not worried about them, I'm worried about us."
"How do you know all this?" I ask suspiciously.
Andrea rolls her eyes. "Stance. The fucking idiot was boasting. After Gray kicked him out, the witches caught up with him at the border, offered who-knows-what—money or land, probably lied and said they'd support his claim to be Lune, that fucking smarmy asshole dipshit motherfucker—"
"Andrea!" I hiss.
"Right, sorry. I just can't believe he caught me off guard. We fought, but he had witches with him. He knew he could never take me without magical intervention. Fucking scrotum."
"So, Stance betrayed the clan?"
She nods. "That's how the witches kept getting in and knew more than they should. Our patrols change constantly, but still, Stance knows everything about how we operate, he grew up in our clan."
I gasp, remembering— "Joey?"
Her expression darkens. "He'll be okay. Stance didn't hurt him too bad, but it was the magic that kept him injured. They used him to lure you out. Kid's young, but he'll be okay."
I glance up at the driver again. He scratches his forehead, but otherwise pays us no mind.
"What now?"
"Now we fuck shit up. Except I can't move and you're useless. We need to wait until he stops. Be prepared, play dead."
I should be offended, but— "That's your plan?"
"You have a better one?"
I try to shrug as much as I can with my hands tied behind my back. "It's just like every villain movie ever made."
Andrea glares. "You know, we're in this mess because of you."
"How is this my fault?"
"I tried to tell everyone the witches sent you. They didn't send you—they lost track of you. Same difference. So, I'd like to point out, I was right all along."
I stew in irritation for about a mile. Andrea may act tough, but she's worried. Scared—for us, or the clan, I don't know. So I ask, "Are they okay? Back home? Everyone in Silent Peak?"
Her eyes soften a fraction. "I think so. The witches got what they wanted, they had no reason to linger."
It's quiet until the van shifts. The driver pulls off, which means the time for whatever plan we don't have, it's just about here. I don't know what to do. I'm trying not to panic, but I can't hear Beep and I hate it.
And my head feels swimmy. And my skin feels itchy, and there's a faint pain in my abdomen.
"I'm sorry I was such a bitch to you," Andrea says, which, honestly, confession time only makes me feel like the end is nigh. I'd rather she were mean.
"Are you?"
She scoffs. The sound is too loud, and we both freeze, but the witch doesn't turn to look at us. The road is bumpier, louder. He takes a left turn, then a right. The van speeds up again, but whatever is coming, it's close.
"No, I'm not. I told you I was right all along. You are dangerous… but… I could have handled it better. The clan, their safety. It's more important to me than anything."
She looks mildly contrite. Might be the best I get out of her, and well… technically, she was right all along, we just didn't realize it. "You're kind of intense, Andrea."
She doesn't look offended. Her hair is sticking to her face. She smells like burnt flesh. She's bleeding and filthy, was spelled by magic. She's a hot fucking mess and still snarling. "I kind of love you," I muse.
She rolls her eyes. "Jury's still out on you."
This time I do laugh. Too loudly. But it feels good. "Now you're just flirting."
She smiles, and it's genuine, but I don't have time to appreciate it. In a panic, like I'll lose the chance again, I say, "I'm sorry about the kitchens."
"I deserved it. But I'm not staying there."
"You shouldn't. Grayson was wrong to punish you."
"He wasn't."
The van is slowing down. The tires rumble and we bounce around, knocking into each other. Then a cramp hits me and I hiss, curling in.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," I say.
The van comes to a full stop. Then does a three-point turn.
Andrea's eyes go wide. "Why are you sweating?"
"Rude," I grumble.
"Mona? What's wrong?"
I shake my head. Then she presses her cheek to mine. And swears.
"Shit. I think you're going into heat."
I think I knew already, but when she says it… I suck in a sharp breath, trying to hold back the fear. The panic.
The witch gets out of the van. He leaves the driver's side door open behind him.
"Luna—you—" her eyes suddenly wide. Like she knows what's coming. Like I'm going to need that little bit of strength. "You can handle this. Whatever comes. Be strong, okay? Whatever comes, be strong. We'll find you. I'll fucking find you!"
She's yelling now. Tears are streaming down my cheeks, my heart is racing. The witch reaches in with a giant silver chain. He throws it over Andrea's body. She cries out in pain. I scream for her.
"Stop! You're hurting her!" I cry.
He slips his hands beneath her, laboriously lifts her up, then tosses her into the woods behind us. I lose sight of her as she tumbles away and the van door slams shut. I'm still screaming for her.
Then the driver is back, and he peels away.
I don't know where I'm headed, but I hang onto the fact that Andrea will be okay. Joey will be okay.
I'm worried about Grayson and Orion. I don't know where the witch is taking me or what's coming.
My head feels foggy, but I'm still healing from when Stance punched me.
I'm alone again. I know they didn't mean to leave me like this, but… they did.
Andrea said they'll save me. But…
How?
My skin is hot. Itchy. The heat spills out of me. It's mostly discomfort, so far. Just discomfort. Last time, it took most of the day before the real pain started. How many hours do I have left?
I glance out the window near the driver. It's nearly dark.
I don't have any safe place to panic, and I don't know how much time I have left before it all hits me. Delirium, fever high enough to kill a person… what else did Grayson say?
I can't think straight.
The clock is ticking down.
What if they can't find me?
Fuck.
Fuck.