“Fine,” the man hissed before striking the side of my head.
Pieces of scenes bled together.
I bobbed on horseback in the dark. Blurred hues of a small campfirewere marred and mixed into their own watercolor painting. I coughed. I heaved. Two rough male voices exchanged murmured conversations.
Who were these people? What did they want? And where had they taken me?
It was dark and quiet.
No rousing fiddle or thunderous conversations from the tavern. We were somewhere in the Eckwood. But the forest was vast. We could be anywhere.
“You’re absolutely sure this is her?” my captor whispered.
“Of course it's her. Raven hair. Olive skin. Light freckles,” the other voice answered, describing me.
I groaned as I pushed my wrists against the rope restraints. My shoulders protested as I tried to lift them and roll. My hope of even an attempted escape dwindled as I realized how limited my movement was.
“She’s awake,” the first voice said and gravel crunched underneath their boots as they approached.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. These weren’t supposed to be my last memories.
The newest stranger pulled my hair, bringing my chest off the ground. “Hello, gorgeous. Have a nice nap?”
I eyed him, noticing at least three missing teeth beneath his crooked nose. My vision was still reeling from the leftover alcohol and a possible head injury.
“I think you hit her too hard,” he said, releasing me from his grip and letting my chest and face meet the earth with a force that made me grunt.
“She earned it,” the other said. He must’ve been the one who lured me from the tavern. “We shouldn’t rest too long. Best to keep moving until the sun rises.”
“Bastards.” Dirt flew as I spit out the word and I struggled against the biting restraints. My head throbbed and my neck itched from the healing cut the assailant inflicted before stealing me away.
One of the men chuckled. “Someone is feeling brave.”
I tried to pull my knees beneath me but found them bound as well.
Fire crackled and liquid sloshed as the same voice asked, “Morvain needs her in one piece?”
“Alive,” the companion assured me. “Or else we don’t get the reward.”
Fear skated across the ice in my veins.
No,I thought.They can’t send me back there.
I’d rather have an ugly death than be sent back to Eryx Morvain and his court of horrors.
More liquid, more crackling embers, and another comment from the new voice, “What do you suppose he wants with her?”
“Vampire business is vampire business,” my assailant responded. “I might not know what he wants with her, but with a body like that, I can think of at least a dozen things he might want to do to her.”
The men chuckled together.
“Shame to put it to waste…” Gravel crunched and my labored efforts turned into a frantic frenzy of movement. No hope. No hope of putting up a fight. No hope of escape. No hope of stopping what he was insinuating if the other man didn’t intervene.
My corset had fallen, exposing my chest against the unforgiving earth. My skirt was above my scraped, bleeding knees. The work was half done for this ill-intentioned attacker.
A whoosh of wind and the ring of a weapon set free cut through the silence. Crackling embers and liquid. But not sloshing liquid from a shared bottle. No, gushing liquid. Blood spilling from an open wound.
I strained to look around but found nothing except the ember-lit bushes and trees.
