by Cilla Raven
I’d already loaded the blow dart with a sleeping liquid tipped dart before I started watching the place, just in case, and as I saw an opportunity to capture one of them while they were alone, I aimed, took a breath, and took a shot.
With almost pinpoint accuracy, the dart landed in the side of Quinn’s neck. I had to fight myself really hard not to jump up and down in victory - a feat made much easier by the fact that as soon as Quinn reached up to his neck and brushed his fingers over the dart, he pulled it out, looked at it angrily, turned around, opened the door he’d just walked out of, and yelled inside, “The Ghost is ba…,” before he fell to the ground with his feet still lying outside the warehouse.
Immediately I was on edge, wondering what my next move should be.
Fuck me and my overeager faeshit. What should I do now? Whoever’s inside has already been alerted to my presence, and will most likely be coming out to find me shortly, or will be hiding inside, waiting to ambush me should I try to come in after them.
However, I do still have surprise on my side if I play my cards right, I think to myself.
When I was flying in a low circle before I decided to land on this rooftop, I’d seen that two doors led into the warehouse, but there was also a cracked window on the top floor. If I were one of the ones inside, I’d be watching the doors, and with that helpful thought, I fly across the street and carefully peer inside the cracked window.
I can see Priya standing by the front door, and as I sneakily switch sides so I can get a glimpse of the back door, I see Roan standing beside it, waiting for someone to try and break in past him. Lazlo is nowhere to be seen, though.
Taking my chances, I slowly slide the window open far enough for me to climb through, and make my way inside without a sound. As soon as I’m in, I duck down, staying low to the ground, hiding behind a few bookcases, desks, and other types of furniture that litter the floor as if the place had been ransacked before I got here.
My plan is to head toward Roan first, seeing as how I think he’s the bigger threat than Priya, but no sooner do I make that decision than I’m being wrapped up with strong arms from behind.
I hadn’t grabbed my daggers from my sides yet because I hadn’t wanted them to hear me sliding them out of their sheaths, but that decision is one I greatly regret as each of my daggers are pulled from my hips and tossed out of reach by the fae man who’s holding me.
Immediately, my training kicks in, and I make quick work of getting out of Lazlo’s hold on me. I even manage to get a few licks in on him before Roan shows up to help his buddy. However, just as I get one of them down, the other comes right back for more.
They work together seamlessly as a team, never letting me even get near my daggers as I knock Roan back a few feet with a solid kick to his stomach.
Lazlo comes at me from behind again, wrapping himself so tightly around me that it’s hard to breathe. I try everything I can think of to get away, but this time, it seems like he knows all of my tricks, and how to counteract them, and as panic reaches a fever pitch throughout my whole body, I just know I’ve been caught, and there’s nothing else I can do about it.
Something told me to wait, but dammit, I didn’t listen, and now there’s no doubt in my mind, I’m at these fae’s mercy.
Chapter 7
Priya comes rushing toward us where Lazlo holds me captive, and I struggle in his grasp as I see the different lengths of rope in her hands, the firm intent and the gleam in her eyes telling me she’s going to tie me up, and that she’s going to enjoy every second of it while she does it.
My breathing becomes frantic, and fear races through me as I push my feet into the ground, throwing myself back into Lazlo’s chest as she gets closer, trying everything within my power to escape what I know is coming. Still, all my efforts are useless in Lazlo’s unforgiving arms. He might as well be a fucking brick wall with how unmoving he is, and within a few short seconds that stretch on like an eternity, despite my strength and training, my wrists are bound in front of me, and my wings are strapped down right up against my back behind me.
I think it’s safe to assume I’m in some deep shit now, but as I quickly assess the situation, weighing all my options, which are definitely fewer than I would like for there to be, I realize that them tying me up is probably the best thing I could’ve hoped for. If they’d wanted to kill me, I’m sure they would’ve already seized that particular opportunity, but since they haven’t… at least, not yet anyway, I still have a fighting chance.
As long as I’m breathing, I still have a chance, I remind myself as I stop resisting and steady my breathing, forcing my heart rate to slow the fuck down, so it doesn’t rupture.
I can tell they all notice the abrupt change in my behavior when I suddenly stop moving since they all look at me questioningly, almost as if I’ve surprised them, their gazes becoming minutely warier of me than they were before.
Good. They should be wary of me, I think in satisfaction.
Lazlo walks to my side and grabs me by the arm, not hard enough to bruise me, but definitely hard enough to let me know I need to go with him as he guides me over to the closest wall and pushes my back up against it, being surprisingly gentler with me than I thought he’d be now that I’m all tied up, and I’ve stopped fighting him.
However, as he steps right into my line of sight, cocking his head to the side, his almost unreal looking bright blue eyes staring deep into mine, I see him fully for the first time, and my breath catches in my throat at the sight of him.
His head is shaved on the sides and back, but what grows on top is dark brown, long, and falls down behind his neck in a single thick braid. He’s got a little scruff on his chiseled face that does nothing to hide his sharp jawline and thick lips, and as I look into his eyes, butterflies start to fly around in my stomach, and a scorching heat begins to spread under my skin.
He’s making me nervous, looking at me like this - in all the ways that would usually be a good thing, but coming from him, a criminal I’m supposed to be capturing, it’s like my body and mind are warring with each other as I drink in the sight of him like a thirsty virgin, while at the same time, yelling at myself for doing so.
Lazlo smiles that crazy madfae smile again, and I can’t help but wonder if he knows I was just thinking about how attractive he is as embarrassment, sharp and cold, seeps through me.
He raises his pointer finger in the air. He pokes me in the forehead with it five or six times in quick succession, surprising the fae out of me as he says, “You almost fucking had me,” in a sing-song voice before he walks off, laughing that laugh of his, sending a chill up my spine again as I hear it, and I’m left staring after him with my mouth hanging open.
As soon as I realize it though, I close my mouth and force my face to become one of angry impassivity. No way am I going to let these fae get to me. Well, I’m not going to show it anymore, at least. Nope, I’m an iron trap.
My best course of action is to remain silent, giving them nothing as I try and find a way to escape, preferably within the next hour or two, so I can make it back in time for no one to miss me at the castle.
“Go on and sit down, Ghost,” Priya says after she climbs up on an overturned desk, letting her feet dangle in front of her as she examines my daggers in her hands. “We’re going to be here for a little bit since you knocked Quinn out.” Her face turns thoughtful for a split second, and she glances at me again. “Nice shot, by the way,” she says reverently, and I don’t even attempt to dive into the parts of my psyche that get excited about the fact that I’ve impressed her.
That was a good shot, though, I think smugly to myself as I sit down and cross my legs in front of me, looking over to where Roan is dragging Quinn further into the warehouse, letting the front door close loudly behind him.
I take in all of Roan’s stunning stature when he stands up straight after laying Quinn’s head down gently on the hard floor. He’s giant and jacked - far larger than most fae are, but something
about his demeanor screams to me that he’s got a soft and squishy inside, and the thought brings a subtle smile to my face as I watch him.
His dark tanned skin nearly matches his big brown wings but stands in stark contrast to the light green color of his eyes. It’s a weird color combination that you don’t see too often, especially in Tavatika, but as I think back to his bounty sheet, even the people who filled in his sheet didn’t know where he came from. He’s got long, silky hair that’s as black as the darkest night, and it's fascinating to me how it looks so straight and smooth even though he was just fighting me, whereas I’m sure my thick ass black hair probably looks like a sweaty mess right now.
Once Roan is done moving Quinn’s unconscious form, he heads over to Lazlo on the other side of the warehouse across from me, and with everything blocking my view, I can only see the tops of their heads as I hear a myriad of sounds, making me wonder what they’re doing.
Zippers being zipped, things banging around, a small chuckle from Roan every now and then, the low steady murmur of Lazlo’s distinctive voice, and a few high-pitched whirring sounds reach my ears as I strain to hear what’s happening. However, after a few minutes, I get tired of listening so hard when it’s painfully clear that I’m not going to be able to distinguish what’s going on, so I rest my head back against the wall behind me and close my eyes in what I hope looks like defeat.
I know Priya is still watching me - obviously the one charged with making sure I don’t run off. I can feel her eyes assessing me shamelessly while I’m not looking, and I try not to think about why that has my insides tingling and random ass thoughts popping into my head. I need to be thinking about a way to get out of here, not wondering about what Priya thinks about what she sees.
A few minutes later, a groan reaches my ears, and I open my eyes to see Quinn rolling over on his side, grabbing his head with one hand as he makes his way to his feet. He looks around the room like the light coming in through the windows is too bright for a second before realization dawns on his features, and he throws his hands down at his sides, fists balled as anger radiates off of him, sending an unexpected shiver of icy fear through me as his eyes land on mine.
Surprise crosses his face as he sends his gaze all over me, but hate solidifies in its place as he begins to storm over to me, his hulking frame a mass of nothing but solid muscle moving through the space between us as his bright red wings flare out behind him.
Quinn moves in such a way that I have to force myself not to flinch or cower before he even makes it over to me, but I know I’m successful in hiding what I feel on the inside as he comes over and crowds all of my space. He reaches down, and with one hand, picks me up by my throat, sliding me up the wall behind me until my feet dangle beneath me.
The pain around my neck and the pressure at the back of my jaw is instant, and a small gasp of air I can’t afford to lose escapes me with the shock of what he’s doing. I know my face scrunches up in pain as I flex the muscles in my neck as hard as I can in an attempt to keep my blood flowing and to protect my windpipe, but it’s almost of no use against his solid grip.
“You’re the one that’s knocked me out twice?” he asks through clenched, perfectly straight teeth. “Twice now, you’ve gotten the better of me?”
My wings twitch in their bindings spastically, and I send my bound hands lashing out at him, but his reach is much longer than mine, so I start kicking at him like my life depends on it, because I know, right now, that it does. After a couple of failed attempts at kicking him right in the balls, he moves in so close to me that his body presses up against mine and starts to hold my weight, pinning me to the wall with his, as thankfully, the pressure on my neck eases some. Not by much, but by enough that I’m not as worried about dying as much as I’d been only seconds ago.
“But you’re such a little thing,” he smiles intensely as the rest of his face softens.
He takes a step back and drops me back to my feet as my hands fly up to cup my bruised throat, and a few coughs escape me, in spite of how hard I’m trying to hide how much I was just at his mercy.
“Don’t show weakness, Z,” Uncle’s voice sounds in my mind from memory, and I stand up straight, composing myself quickly as I level Quinn with a challenging glare.
His smile grows even wider as he watches me, and I try my damndest to keep my mask of impassivity firmly in place, backing up to the wall I almost died on as I drop my hands back in front of me and lift my chin in the air smugly.
“You’re good,” he says as he crosses his arms over his chest, standing only a step or two away from me, “Very good,” and something inside me absolutely quivers at his words, but I ignore it as best I can while I refuse to break eye contact with the fae.
If I could’ve dreamed up the perfect fae man for me, Quinn’s looks and physique would’ve been exactly what I would’ve imagined. He’s tall, my head only rising to his chest at my full height; he’s got tanned muscles for days, wrapped and nearly covered in tattoos; his eyes are dark blue, whose depths practically have me swimming; and his thick, calloused hands give my dark imagination so many dirty thoughts, I’m finding it hard to concentrate as it throws image after image of what those hands could do to me to the forefront of my mind.
Fucking seriously, Z? Those hands almost fucking killed you! I think before a small and dark giggle escapes me unexpectedly, and Quinn’s eyes darken even further as the sound reaches his ears.
I can see Lazlo, Priya, and Roan all coming over out of my periphery to stand behind Quinn, and with all of their eyes on me at once, it’s all I can do not to fucking shiver with arousal.
Why the fae do they have to all be so attractive, huh? Why couldn’t they be like the rest of the slimy rat bastards I’ve been hunting? If they were, it would undoubtedly make figuring a way out of this situation a lot easier, especially if there wasn’t that small part of me that’s positively begging me to take them all back to my chambers and play with them, one by one, like a whiny sex-depraved little bitch.
“She’s not what we were expecting, is she?” Lazlo says as he rests a light hand on Quinn’s shoulder, smiling as his gaze travels up and down my body appreciatively.
Quinn laughs a dark chuckle that lacks any humor as he says, “No, she’s not, but I’m not disappointed,” and something about the way he says it has my thighs tightening without a thought in self-preservation.
“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking awesome that The Ghost turned out to be a girl,” Priya says as she leans up against Roan, where he’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest too. She brings her hands up in front of her, playing absentmindedly with her fingernails, and I allow myself to give her a full once over since she’s doing the same thing to me.
Her blue wings shimmer, and her dark skin shines in the sunlight, almost as if the light is just drawn to her. She has long black braided hair that falls behind her shoulders, marked with pops of blue and purple strings that have been woven between the strands. Her frame is fit, but still somewhat supple, and though she’s at least half a foot taller than me, I can’t help but wonder what she would look like beneath me.
Whoa, hold the fuck up, Z. Down girl.
I quickly bring my gaze back up to Quinn’s as heat floods my cheeks, but I don’t miss the smirk that plays on the edges of Priya’s lips as I do it.
“Beh sho kee pa,” Roan says in his weird but familiar accent.
Priya sighs as she stops leaning on him and says, “Yeah, we should go.”
They all turn around and head over to the other side of the room, leaving me standing by the wall, and as they all look away from me and start grabbing things, I decide to take my chances and bolt for the front door.
I get over to it, and glance back, seeing they haven’t even noticed I’ve moved, but as I turn the handle and open the door, it squeaks loud enough to get their attention. However, I don’t wait around long enough to see what they want to do about it. I take off into the street, deciding quickly that going left wo
uld be my best option since that’s the way that seems the most populated, but I don’t make it six feet before someone is reaching under my armpits and lifting me off the ground with firm and steady hands.
Chapter 8
A small cry escapes me in surprise, but I slam my mouth shut as I look up and see Priya is the one who’s grabbed me, and it registers in my mind that she’s probably one of the strongest female fae I’ve ever met since she can lift me so easily.
“Not too fast without those guard wings, now are ya, Ghost?” she asks with a derisive little laugh. She flies me around to the back of the warehouse, where the other members of her group are beginning to walk nonchalantly out the back door as if they aren’t concerned at all about whether Priya was going to be able to catch me or not.
She sets me down and lands beside me, immediately grabbing the excess rope dangling from my hands, and leads me over to two horses and a cart that have been staged behind the building. Quin, Roan, and Lazlo throw a few crates and bags into the cart as Priya captures my attention with a sinister voice that catches me off guard, “Climb in, cover yourself completely with that blanket, and don’t make a sound.”
I just look at her like she’s lost her mind for a second, but as I consider the fact that I don’t seem to have much choice in the matter, I do as she says, climbing into the back of the loaded cart with a disgusted huff being the only sound that escapes me as I grab the blanket, lay down, and pull it over me.
As if it isn’t hot enough already, I think angrily as I lay on my side and stick my face out of the edge of the blanket, but hold it in a position where I can still breathe while I stay hidden from whoever might be looking in the cart.