I squirm, testing the tightness of the bindings. Footsteps clomp and shuffle, filling the silence of the room. I still my body and relax my position. I count the number of footfalls drawing near.
“I told you not to harm the girl until we got answers,” a baritone voice says nearby.
“Sorry, Boss. I didn’t expect her to start shooting lightning out of her hands. She almost got me and Nan with one of them.”
These men attacked me in the air. The energy strikes and the electrical currents that hit me, that was magic, not to mention the avian species that hefted me up in the air. None of this makes sense. Last night, the Resistance didn’t attack with magic wielders. It was just wolves and guns.
“She’s one of us,” a female voice says next. Maybe this isn’t the group of Resistance that we set out to attack? Were we in the wrong area? Did I misinterpret Toby’s directions?
A warning growl fills the room. “She’s not one of us. Look at her clothes and the weapons we took off her. The amount of money spent on those things could feed our families for a year.”
Shit. They took my weapons, including the tanto and sai that Luke gave to me for my birthday. I shift my shoulder. They removed my tactical vest, too.
The footfalls stop, except one continues closer to where I wait.
“The sentinels reported that the group that came with the girl got in their vans and left,” a different female says.
They left? That wasn’t part of the plan, if I was captured. What are they planning?
“Nan followed them out to the city. The rest of them are on their way back now.”
Deep rumbling laughter spreads among this group.
“Looks like we have her all to ourselves, then. Some group of army men she brought with her, leaving one of their own behind. That’s what men do when they have money. They only think of themselves. They leave the weak behind and take care of themselves first.”
Bullshit. My men are planning something. Internally, I scoff at the stupid remark. Idiots. They would never leave me behind.
The head covering is harshly ripped off my head. I blink several times to adjust to the bright light that fills the room.
Standing before me is a small group of men and women. Not exactly what I expect. Definitely not the Resistance either.
They all wear scuffed biker boots and street shoes, faded jeans or leather pants, fitted t-shirts or crop tops. Tattoos decorate their exposed arms, necks, and stomachs. Piercings litter their faces from eyebrows, septums, nostrils, and lips. The women all have dark, heavy makeup. They all look like they, well, live in the slums.
I look past the group of thirteen and study the vast space. This almost looks like a fighting ring. Training equipment sits off to the side. Fading championship banners hang from the rafters.
A tall man with light brown hair, three hooped rings through his left brow, and an angry-looking scar across his eyelid and cheek crosses his arms over his chest. Standing next to him is another man of similar height, brown hair with a single piercing through his left brow and a large tattoo over the front of his neck. He slaps a thick leather strap against his palm. They each move closer to me.
“Who are you? Why are you in our territory?” the man with the scar asks. I pinch my lips together and roll my eyes. “Whoare you, andwhyare you here in our territory?” he repeats. His eyesglow red, and his lips curl up in a sneer as he looms over, using his height and energy to subdue me.
I huff, embarrassed for him. Does he really think he can intimidate me so easily? The best lead guard in all of the LS trained me for the past year, and he made sure that no amount of terror or torture will break any of his guards. Ignoring him, I shift my attention to the man with the leather strap in his hand. There is something familiar about his face, like I’ve seen him before. I just can’t remember where.
Scarface growls against my ear, “Why are you here? What do you have to do with the men in suits hanging around our territory for the past several days?”
Men in suits? He must be referring to the Resistance. Maybe I can read their minds and find Tyler and Anders. I open my mind and gently push forward. A gush of energy and an impenetrable wall instantly builds around them.
Someone tsks from behind the two men. “That isn’t going to work here, girl,” one of the women says in a sultry voice.
Scarface quickly glances over his shoulder and faces me. “Who the fuck are you?”
Refusing to break eye contact, I return his glare.
He barks out a laugh, delighted that I refuse to answer him. “Let’s see how long you can remain silent.” He snaps his fingers. “Strap,” he commands.
The man with the familiar face steps closer. Strap? Strap! I know that name. Without warning, the sting of leather slashes across my face. The coppery tang of blood fills my mouth. I barely have a second to reposition my head to face the man when the sound of a loud crack of leather slapping against skin rings in my ears, my skin hot from the sting of the leather. My head whips to the other side from another blow.
A vibrating snarl resounds deep within my chest. My vision turns red with fury. My entire being begins to tremble. Anotherloud crack rings in my ears, but this time, I don’t feel the sting. Another crack and another, at least four more times. More blood fills my mouth, flooding my tastebuds with a salty, metallic taste.
Above the crack of the leather, I hear my bones snap and pop. The strap snakes around my throat, slowly tightening. Blood slides down my throat, threatening to choke me. The leather strap threatens the same. My heartbeat pulses in my eardrums.
