Chapter7
Niamh
‘What happens in the darkness, stays in the darkness.’
Cillian whispered this four years ago, right after the first time we kissed. And now Vittoria is using those exact same words. When Cillian said it, they sounded comforting. Now, I fear it might mean that no one ever finds my body. It was clearly meant to accomplish… something. And it was equally clear it didn’t, which might be a problem if he finds out.
I open my eyes to darkness. My head is thumping and when I move it, rough fabric chafes the side of my face. There’s something stuffed in my mouth and tied in place, and cable ties dig into my wrists. My hands are bound behind my back and searing pain shoots through the shoulder I’m leaning on.
I take a breath and choke on scrunched-up fabric. Breathing in through my nose works a little better and I calm down a little. Then there’s another moment of panic when I realise my feet are also bound and I’m unable to stretch out in any direction. Have I been buried alive? A moment passes and I hear an incessant droning noise of a car engine and realise I must be tied up in the boot of a car.
Memories of earlier slowly re-form in my mind and my heart starts to pound. The club, the alley, Cillian… the vision of the stag, the hunter god, around him. Three dead men. I stifle a sob. What did I do? Did I… did I kill a man? They said he was Kin. What does that mean? Did I kill one of their family? But that doesn’t make sense. They killed the others. Would they really kill their own blood? I know Cillian is dangerous, but would he go that far? Am I fated to end up the same way? Although surely if Cillian was going to kill me, he would have done it in the alley to save time? My thoughts are running a thousand miles an hour as I try to process what happened this evening. Rose! What happened to her? Panic sets in, I hope she’s not still in danger.
No, Rose will be fine. I saw Aiden put her safely in the car. At least one of us is all right. A sense of betrayal nearly suffocates me. If it wasn’t for me contacting Cillian, both Rose and I would have been victims of those men. I may not know exactly what they had planned, but from the things I heard them discussing… I shiver… I can make a pretty decent guess. The car turns and my head knocks against the side of the boot causing me to gasp in pain. In exchange for rescuing Rose, Cillian has tied me up and trapped me in the boot of his car to take me who knows where. Still, I guess it’s better than being dead.
I close my eyes, blinking them open when I feel a soft touch on the side of my face. For a moment, it feels like I’m not alone, but I must be. The space is too cramped for there to be anyone else in here. I swallow down my panic. I’m not usually claustrophobic but my senses have been dulled and my anxiety heightens at my unknown future.
‘She’s awake,’ a tiny voice whispers, ‘and still breathing.’
My heart rate accelerates as the words are followed by something, or someone, pulling my hair and giggling. I thought I was seeing things in the club, not to mention seeing Cillian transform in the alley. Maybe tonight isn’t really happening, maybe the whole evening really has been a nightmare. Or maybe I drank too much Stox and now I’m hallucinating. Yes, that must be it. Whatever is going on, I need it to stop.
The car hits a bump and pain rips through me. I’m definitely not imagining that. I need to free myself. If I can do that I might at least to be able to try to run when Cillian stops the car. I struggle, feeling the pain of the cable ties biting into the skin of my wrists.
My brain attempts to scroll through all those social-media videos that I scoffed at and didn’t pay attention to. The ones that show you what to do if your arms are cuffed behind your back, or you’re cable-tied to a chair. I’m sure there was probably one about being locked in a boot. As it is, I have no clue how to even begin to think about escaping. But I should do something. Ineedto do something.
I close my eyes and try again to steady my breathing. I try to think of a happier time, something to focus on that will help get me through this nightmare. My mind focuses on my mother’s advice about Rose the first time I met her.
‘Be careful who you trust, Niamh. Not everyone deserves it.’
A lone tear slips out the corner of my eye, sliding down my cheek as my body starts to shake. How could Rose let this happen to me? How could Cillian do this? The last time we were alone together he made it clear that he doesn’t want me, and since the day we met, he has done nothing but confuse me, pull me towards him then shove me away.
But I never thought he’d want to see me dead.
And yet, here I am. Tied up. Alone. Frightened. Then it occurs to me that it could be Vittoria driving this car. She saw everything that happened, after all. If Vittoria is responsible for my current situation, I know I won’t live to see the dawn.
After what seems like hours, the car finally slows, and my breath catches in my throat. I can’t just lie here calmly and wait for… for whoever has me to open the boot and possibly kill me. I need to do something. I need to escape. Somehow. I try rolling onto my back, but my bound hands prevent that. I struggle against my bindings but I’m too exhausted.
We cross what feels like a cattle grid and then the car comes to a halt, the engine cutting out. My heart stutters in my chest as the door slams and footsteps grow louder. Maybe instead of trying to summon help, or persuade Cillian that he’s going to get in a lot of trouble if he doesn’t just let me go, I should simply just get down on my knees and beg for my life? Will I even get that chance?
I stop breathing and squeeze my eyes shut as the boot clicks open, expecting to be blinded by light, but when I dare to crack one open, I see the strange, not-quite-darkness of a summer’s night, and the steely glare of Cillian Hunter.
If I was hoping for a saviour, I’m out of luck. He’s preferential to Vittoria, but the fury on his face reminds me of the night we first met, and the expression on his face when he dragged me out of the cloakroom.
Chapter8
Niamh
FOUR YEARS AGO
‘Cernunnos,’ I read on the wrought-iron arch over the drive.
‘You sure this is where you want to go?’ the driver asks.
‘I’m sure,’ I say, swallowing as the electric gates slide smoothly open and he pulls off Great Western Road into a tree-lined drive that ends at an ornate red sandstone mansion.
Rose told me it’s named after the Celtic god of the hunt and given that her name is Hunter, I guess it’s a clever choice. I look down at my outfit, which now feels rather shabby. The burgundy trousers were stylish when I bought them two years ago, and the floral top with the sweetheart neckline is pretty, but through the large window I can see that most of the women are in dresses– short, tight, shiny dresses that show off more skin than they cover. I didn’t realise I should dress like I was going clubbing– not that I ever dress like that. I’d feel so exposed. I pull off my cardigan and stuff it into my bag. No one needs to see that.
The driver loops round the turning circle and pulls up at the front door of the mansion. And it truly is a mansion. I honestly never believed that people actually live in houses like this. Wow, this girl is rich. I’ve only known Rose for a few weeks and I know she comes from a different world than me– no way could I miss all the designer labels she wears or the brand-new tech she carries– but this… this house was built with serious money.
