Page 117 of Chaos At Second Sight

My eyes fluttered open and a curtain of black hair welcomed me back. Amaia. Curled next to me, she was unnaturally still, dry blood matting one side of her face and staining the dusty floor. I could hear the faintest heartbeat…

“She’s fine.”

I jerked, bumping into the wall, but a hand shot out to help me. “Tiziano! You scared me.”

When I glanced up at him, he looked cadaveric. Big dark circles swallowed his face, like he hadn’t slept for days. His dirty hair was matted, and he was only wearing a pair of Comet boxers. Scratches and bruises crisscrossed his body.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

He shrugged, then looked away.

“Wait, where are we?” I looked around.

The room was small, the walls unfinished, and nobody had bothered to add a window. One naked lightbulb swung from a loose wire overhead. The place smelled like cleaning products had never been introduced here.

“We were kidnapped,” Tiziano croaked, the words scraping their way out of him. There was a sadness, a deep pain etched onto his usually cheerful features.

It all rushed back—the toilet break, Amaia on the floor, and that familiar-looking man.

“Who?” My fingers found dried blood tangled in my hair. Ouch.

“The Matenapper,” he whispered.

Too disoriented to think, I gathered Amaia into my lap and cradled her, my cheek on her head. Please wake up.

More memories floated in. Logan. The game. Callum. The kidnappings.

“Oh Stephen! They took us so Dark Diamond would lose.”

Zelda was silent inside me. Whatever they’d pumped into me had knocked my wolf unconscious so no mind-link, and no healing. Just pain, nausea, and the burning ache spreading through my neck.

Tiziano reached over and wrapped his arms around us. “Yvaine…I…” A sob tore out of him. “We…” Another. “He…”

The hairs on my arms prickled, and a whistle drifted toward us from somewhere. I hadn’t even smelled him.

“Well, well…” a syrupy voice mocked. “Already awake.”

My mouth gaped open.

There, in the border between shadows and light, stood the familiar man.

Where had I seen him before? Think. Think. Ignore the pain and dizziness…

Flashes of the college party crossed my clouded mind. Before Logan and I had kissed for the first time, someone unpleasant had bumped into me.

Recognition hit like another blow to the head.

“Garlic Man!”

His brows shot up before he laughed. “Yeah. Sorry about that. The garlic and alcohol were deliberate. Werewolves avoid anything that smells unpleasant, and they stop paying attention.” His smile widened, half a canine tooth missing. “Makes my work much easier.”

Unbelievable. Amaia…this…all for a stupid wereball match?

“You’re going to prison,” I spat, rage replacing my common sense.

His smile vanished, like someone had snuffed out a candle. The calculation in his eyes was as cold as the muscle in his chest.

He took two steps forward.