I snarl, the sound ripping from my chest, unrestrained as I bare my fangs at him.
His head tilts, those slimy eyes finally finding mine. Pure, unfiltered glee stares back at me.
“Now that you’re awake,” he says slowly as a grin reveals his pearly white teeth, “it’s time for the real fun to begin.”
CHAPTER 10
BRIAR
Ahiss interrupts the heavy silence.
I freeze, every muscle going taut, as a mist curls from the vents overhead.
My chest squeezes and my body locks up.No. Not again.
It pours down the walls in lazy spirals, pooling across the floor like a living thing reaching for me.
The last time mist touched me, it melted my skin from my bones and dragged me under for a week.
“Stop!” My fists slam the barrier, frantic, and useless as no one moves to save me. “Don’t–don’t!”
The mist swirls up around me. My lungs clamp down as I hold my breath, starving for air that won’t poison me.
On the other side of the glass, two figures stand stiff and silent. Callum. Elias. Their shoulders squared, hands tucked neatly behind their backs. Not a twitch. Not a glance.
Perfect little guards.
They make me fucking sick.
A third shape is suddenly there, staring at me as the mist begins to obscure my vision. He’s taller and broader than the brothers, but still as stone, like them. A gold chain catches the light against the hollow of his throat.
My eyes begin to feel heavy as I try to lock onto his face, but all I notice are his eyes. Dark brown and unblinking, following me as I slide down against the glass, curling into a ball.
The mist thickens until I can’t see any of them and I gasp once. And then a second time.
“Stop, please!” The words rip from my throat, thin and broken as I inhale the mist.
Through my panic, I briefly note that I don’t feel any pain, just an overwhelming exhaustion seeping through my entire body.
My vision blurs and the sounds around me seem to echo as I struggle to fixate on them.
The barrier releases with a hiss after the mist is sucked out of the room, disappearing back through the vents in the ceiling. A rush of cold air rolls across my bare skin, and then he’s there.
The newcomer steps through without hesitation. His arms scoop beneath me, and suddenly I’m airborne, swung up against a chest so solid it might as well be carved from stone. My head lolls uselessly, cheek pressed into the heat of him. The mist has stripped the fight clean out of me, leaving me limp and trembling in his hold. I should hate every second of it, but the scent that clings to him slips in anyway, spicy and grounding.
He carries me like I weigh nothing. His chest is all hard planes beneath the thin stretch of his shirt, and I can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing. My eyes snag on the small gold chain at his throat, the only flash of color against the white world blurring past.
Ridiculous and reminding me of the image of what I thought a guy in the mob would have, maybe, but I like it. A small piece of personality attached to the all black cargo pants and shirts the brothers and him wear.
Maybe a small act of defiance from him, or maybe it’s just the only thing I can manage to focus on pressed against his chest.
I try to lift my head, to track the path through this place, but my body refuses me. My skull tips back against him no matter how I fight it. All I catch are fleeting pieces of shining chrome fixtures, the gleam of seemingly endless sterile floors, and the blur of light above us.
There are footsteps behind us and I manage to glance over the enormous shoulder propping my head up.
Callum and Elias.
Their presence scratches along my freshly healed skin and I let my eyes fall back to the gold chain, not wanting to give them a second more of my effort.
