“It’s not our place to step in," Nash mumbles.
I turn around and scowl at him. I’m ready to explain all the ways that I think his comment is bullshit, but a big SUV is coming up behind us, and they don’t look like they’re going to stop. I barely have time to shout out a warning before they plow into us from behind.
I jerk back and then sideways, completely askew as Enoch’s SUV jerks to a stop. Everyone inside is cursing and taking stock of themselves.
“Is everyone o—"
Before Enoch can finish his question, something plows into us hard and fast on the back driver’s side of the car. We start spinning like we’re on the teacup ride from hell and my head smashes back against the window. I can’t do anything as we’re thrown around, and I’m jerked every which way amid the sounds of crunching metal and breaking glass. The side of my head takes another hit from somewhere, and the world around me blinks to black.
39
Ashout jerks me from unconsciousness, and I come to, disoriented and hurting. My chin rests sticky against my chest, and pain shoots through my neck and head when I try to lift it. I squeeze my eyes close, and try to fend off a throbbing headache battering my skull.
Another shout has me trying to cover my ears from the assault of the noise, but my hands don’t follow my brain’s instructions for protection. I jerk my arms again and realize my hands are fastened to something behind me. I move around on what I assume is a chair, and discover my feet are also tethered in place.
Adrenaline and fear slam through me like a tidal wave, as it dawns on me how bad this situation is. I don’t know if the pain dulls or if I just grow accustomed to it, but I manage to lift my head off of my chest and dizzily try to take in my surroundings. Another shout has me flinching to get away, and I follow the noise to one of the guys from Enoch’s back seat tied in a chair across from me. He’s yelling for help which seems counterintuitive to the situation we find ourselves in.
“Shut the fuck up," I grumble to him, and wide, terrified eyes turn to me. “If you keep yelling, whoever did this is going to come in here. Let’s try to put that off as long as possible," I tell him, trying and failing to be more reassuring and less growly.
He nods and thankfully stays quiet as his scared gaze flits all around us. Wherever we are is cool and damp. The moisture in the air adds to the sticky feeling on my skin, and I look down to find that drying blood has turned my gray tank top dark red. I don’t feel any trickles anywhere on my body, so it seems wherever most of this came from has thankfully clotted or at least slowed.
The ground beneath my feet is hard packed dirt, and the walls of the room are an aged gray concrete with cracks spidering around the joints. Everyone from Enoch’s car is down here tied to a chair. They’re disheveled and bruised, and showing signs of some injuries from the accident.
We’re arranged in a haphazard semicircle, and I can’t tell if that’s by design or mere coincidence. There’s waning natural light in the room, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from. I try to turn around to see if the source of the light is behind me, but an excruciating pain in my neck and head keeps me from discovering anything.
“Hey…” I whisper to the kid who was shouting.
He looks up, and I can tell how much he’s trying to rein in his panic. I give him the softest most comforting smile I can.
“What’s your name?”
It seems to take him a moment to register what I’m asking.
“Parker," he whispers.
“Parker, were you awake when we were brought here?” I ask, hoping that he might be able to tell me where we are and who the hell tied us up. He shakes his head, and a sob shudders out of his throat. I give him another reassuring smile.
“It’s okay, this is awful, but we’re alive and together. I’ll get us out of here.”
I don’t know why I’m making promises I have no idea if I’ll be able to keep, but it kills me to see him so terrified.
“I woke up a little while ago. I’ve been shouting, but no one has come to check on us," Parker quietly tells me, and I nod my head.
My magic bubbles up inside of me restless and agitated, and I have to stop myself from calling on my runes and cutting myself and the others free. There may not be many opportunities to escape, and I know I need to be smart about this. Patience feels like the best step forward or at least waiting until everyone is conscious, so I’m not forced to carry anyone while potentially trying to fight my way out of whereverhereis.
A groan sounds from Enoch, and I see his head wobble. I watch the moment he realizes he’s tied up to a chair and his head jerks up and swivels around taking everything in. Our eyes meet, and I watch relief peculiarly flicker in his eyes.
“What’s going on?” he croaks in question.
“I don’t know. I woke up not too long ago.”
“You’re bleeding," he informs me and then starts to struggle against his bindings.
“Quiet!” I hiss at him. “We don’t want to bring anyone in here yet.”
Enoch stills, but I can see the helpless rage on his face. Something moves slightly in the corner and my head jerks in that direction. My pain renews its assault, and I instantly regret moving my head so fast. I notice for the first time that something is hanging from the ceiling in the corner.
I squint trying to force my eyes to work like they normally do without whatever head injury I’m currently suffering from. I gasp when I gather that it’s a person slumped and hanging from a hook in the ceiling by their arms, their back to us. The person is emaciated and filthy, their clothes and skin blend right in with the grays and browns of the room.
