Page 28 of Into The Green

A light flicked on, something small like a battery-powered camping lantern with an LED bulb that somehow managed to be startlingly bright in one spot and cast the rest of the room in shadow.

And then I saw it.

Him.

He was tall, taller than Jasper and Doyle even standing slightly hunched forward. His hair was a dirty blond, cut short. His face was a V-shape, sharp of chin and wide of cheekbones with wide, thin lips and stern brows over eyes that I couldn't make out the color of.

He wore a pair of tan hemp pants, slung low on his hips, exposing a strong, toned stomach, chest, arms, and shoulders. Firm. Solid. Unbelievably strong.

The chain snaked up the back of his body, criss-crossing over his chest like a crude vest. It was tight, the skin underneath raw and bloody. I felt an almost overwhelming rush of empathy. He wasn't a threat to me. He was a prisoner and he was being tortured.

But then he turned slightly, his body angling to the side and I saw something I had missed before. He definitely wasn't human. While he looked like a man for the most part, he was definitely fae. Poking out of the skin on his back, straight down the middle like a spine, were giant triangular plates like that of a lizard or dragon. There were bruises along the side of each plate in various shades of healing: blue, purple, greenish, yellow.

So he was being chained and beaten and kept in a cold barn.

The indignation welled up inside, the basic human need to fight injustice where one found it. But, I reminded myself with an inhale, he must have been chained up for a reason. Maybe he was violent. Maybe he had powers.

"Be quiet," a voice pierced the quiet, deep and gravely even though it was a whisper, almost as if it was rusty from misuse. I felt myself nodding, not wanting to upset him, and watched as he moved toward me, squatting down beside me, and putting his ear to the crack in the door. He listened for a long minute as I tried not to gawk at him. Then his eyes found mine and I realized they were brown, but with reddish flecks leading away from the pupils like little starbursts. So unnatural and, as such, so mesmerizing. "He went to check the tree line," he told me. I sucked in a breath and nodded. "I'm Drake."

"Cece," I heard myself saying, basic manners overpowering my justified urge to not speak to the half-human, half-beast.

He smiled then, the motion a little tight, a little strained, like it had been so long that the muscles required to do so had atrophied. "Nice to meet you," he said a little sheepishly. Then he stood and moved away from me a bit, gave me space. "You can stay here until he goes back inside then make a run for the woods. Once you cross the threshold, you'll be safe."

"Thanks," I said, meaning it, as I pulled my legs to my chest and hugged them with my arms.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone completely confused like he couldn't wrap his head around anyone stepping onto Winters land.

"We're looking for someone."

"Who?"

"Jade. She is..."

"The daughter," Drake said, turning and flicking the lamp off. "She's not here."

"What?" the question burst from me as I fought to adjust to the dark. "She has to be!"

Drake pulled his hand up to his face, pressing a finger to his lips to remind me to keep it down. "She's not. I would know."

"Oh, God," I said, unable to stop it. "Jasper."

"He's here too?" he asked, sounding shocked. Then his head turned suddenly to the side, listening. "Get under the bed. Now," he hissed.

He really didn't need to tell me twice, not with all I had already seen in The Green and sensed about the Winters family. I scrambled across the floor on my hands and knees and tossed myself under it on my belly. Drake reached out and adjusted the blanket so it fell and hid me. There was a small sliver where it slipped away from the side and I watched as the door burst open and I saw another set of feet.

"Seen anyone around here?" the same rough voice from outside asked.

"No sir," Drake said, sounding timid, borderline fearful, and the pit in my stomach sprouted and started growing outward, stretching its limbs into every part of me. If someone as big as him was scared, I was pretty sure I was supposed to pee myself.

I craned my head for a better view, seeing the door thrown open and the sun starting to break through the sky. The man in the barn was somewhere in his late thirties with a short, but stocky build, brown hair, and ruddy skin. There was a long black cane in his hand and I had the sneaking suspicion it was used for things other than helping him walk.

"Don't lie to me, draca," the man snapped, angry. "I can smell her all over this place. I'll ask you one more time. Where is she?"

"I don't know, sir," Drake insisted again.

It happened so fast that I wasn't sure I was seeing things right at first. The man twisted then lifted and swung the cane, landing it across Drake's already damaged back. Drake's unbearably pained yell was all the proof that I needed that I wasn't seeing things.

Hysteria bubbled up in my system, making me feel like I was going to throw up. I couldn't just stay hidden under his bed and let him get beat because of me.