“Whatever is in this damned syringe, it’s kept me from plane-walking for the twenty-four hours we've been stuck in here. Luckily, it's not quite as vile as the smell of the drink they’ve been forcing down Frost’s throat to nullify his abilities.”
Twenty-four hours. I take it we were captured by someone with resources, but…
I’m momentarily distracted when a ghost passes through a wall. It’s a young woman with bright blue hair. When she sees I'm awake, she looks excited before disappearing through another wall.
Straining on the ground, I try to see into the other corners of this extensive suite. Baelfire has to be here, somewhere. And Silas.
Theyhaveto be here, because if I lost them again?—
“They put our necromancer in isolation,” Crypt offers, still sounding pained even though he’s trying to hide it. “Decimus was dragged out a bit ago for starting fires again. Not to worry, darling. They always bring him back quickly.”
“We’re still in New York,” Everett adds. “At my parents’ favorite luxury hotel, across the street from Arati’s high temple. They’re thetheyCrypt mentioned.”
He sums things up quickly as I try to worm toward the nearest wall so I can sit up while still keeping a view of them. Apparently, we were captured at Arati’s temple while I was passed out. Aside from Silas, we’ve been kept in this room the entire time, but even though Everett hasn’t been let out to seethe place, he’s positive this is where the cowardly elite legacies disappeared to once the Divide fell and all hell broke loose.
“A void is posted outside,” he finishes bitterly. “I haven’t seen Asher Douglas since we were taken. He’s probably dead.”
“Such a shame,” Crypt sighs.
Everett’s bag-muffled voice is pure skepticism. “Uh-huh. Let me guess. You’re only sad you weren’t the one to kill him.”
“Naturally. He shot Maven.”
“I made him pay me back triple for that in blood when he showed up at Everbound wanting to work for me. You were there.”
“Doesn’t count, since I was too numb to enjoy it properly.” Crypt looks back at me, concern and raw affection eclipsing everything else on his face. “You all right, love?”
I nod, still trying and failing to get some wiggle room in this godsdamned straitjacket. If it were any looser, I would try to get my arms over my head, but it’s ridiculously tight, and that’sbeforethe chains they wrapped several times around me. It’s a marvel that I could still breathe while unconscious in this thing.
As far as torture devices go, this one is quickly earning my respect. And the extra chain reinforcements? Honestly, the fact that they hindered me this thoroughly is flattering. It’s almost like I killed some of the most powerful beings in the world to get to this point.
They must be terrified of me.
“I’ll make you a bouquet of fingers from the soon-to-be fingerless legacy who dared confined you in that and put that fucking tape over your mouth,” Crypt promises.
Gods, I missed his sweet violence.
My chest continues to burn. We sit in this lightly smoke-scented room for a quiet moment before there’s a bang at the door. Someone yelps in pain, someone else snarls, and thenBaelfire is shoved into the room before the door slams shut again.
And it’sactuallyBaelfire.
His pupils are round as he adjusts to sit on the floor. Thick silver shackles immobilize his wrists and ankles. The collar I put on him is still there, as is the leash. His face is bruised, one eye blackened, nose quickly healing from an obvious break, and his ripped shorts are stained with an alarming amount of blood. More is dried all over his beautiful bare muscles.
He’s also still holding the end of someone’s bitten-off finger in his mouth.
When he spots me, his face lights up just like it always used to. Spitting the finger he just snagged aside, he beams.
My pulse flutters. Gods—there he is.
My sunshine mate is no less charming, all covered in blood. He's as ridiculously handsome as ever, his eyes sparkling, his smile bright.
But I can sense it right away—the change in his demeanor.
When I first met Baelfire, back when I was trying to reject my matches, he was so upbeat and guileless and…goodcompared to the rest of us. In a way, he seemed innocent, or at least as innocent as legacies can be.
Now? It's subtle, but there's a new edge to him, and not the kind that comes from his dragon.
Baelfire shuffles across the room to my side. As soon as he’s close enough to me, he leans over to kiss my mouth through the tape.
