by Amelia Shaw
He snagged my hand and tugged it toward him across the worn wood table. I forgot why my body ached. Why I glared across at the man who ran his thumb over my knuckles so sweetly.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
He released my hand with a pensive smile and stood. “Coffee, black, right?”
Before I could summon an answer, he walked over to the counter. A tiny part of my brain told me to run, but every part of my body didn’t want to move. Too quickly he returned and sat a steaming coffee mug in front of me.
I cupped it in my hands and murmured, “Thank you.”
He unzipped his hoodie and removed it. I scanned his torso and then his bare forearms. No weapons. Good. Not that it mattered given how easily he’d dragged me into the café.
He settled into the booth and hooked his hair behind his ears. “Now then, Zoey—may I call you Zoey?”
“Do I have a choice?”
The edges of his lips ticked up in a hint of a smirk. “Zoey, you’re a remarkable woman.”
I looked around the booth and then behind me. “Why are you complimenting me? We aren’t on a date. You’re crazy. And holding me captive in a coffee shop. Get to the point already.”
He cupped his coffee between his hands and met my gaze, as if he waited for some epiphany to strike me down. I stared back because it was all I could do.
When he laughed and glanced away, I relaxed, physically sagging against the worn leather booth back.
“No really, it wasn’t meant as a compliment in that sense of the word,” he said. “I only meant to imply I’ve done my research on bounty hunters in the area and you are by far the best. Not without some colorful stories, of course. But I couldn’t find another hunter worthy of the task I wish to hire you for.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. Really? The balls on this dude. “So, are you trying to flatter me into taking your job? ’Cause it’s still going to be a no for me. No matter how many ways you reframe this conversation.”
He cocked his head. “Why is that? My research suggested you were actively looking for cases.”
I put my coffee on the table and spread my hands flat around the cup.
“I’m going to speak slowly so you understand what I’m saying. You dragged me here against my will, after cornering me in a dark alley before I’ve even had breakfast.” I leaned in to try and add more power to my tone. “I don’t like you. It’s probably something you never hear with hair and biceps like that, but it’s the truth. You’re a dick.”
“Tell me about your job.”
How did this man function in society? Oh, yeah, by kidnapping people.
“No.”
He eyed me, a frown drawing deep lines around his mouth. “You do realize I can make you, and I assure you, it won’t be pleasant. Especially since you are more resistant to my charms than I was expecting.”
I snorted. “Charms, is that what you call this? While we are on the subject, what exactly are you?”
“I asked you a question first. It’s polite to answer.”
Did I want to know his species bad enough that I would give him what he wanted? Damn it. I did.
“Fine. People give me money to hunt down things, or people, for them. That about sums it all up.”
He nudged my coffee toward me. “Oh, you can do better than that, I’m sure.”
“What do you want? My client list? My pay stubs? I hunt things...hence bounty hunter. Usually it’s people. Sometimes it’s objects. I don’t particularly care what I hunt as long as the pay is right.”
I recognized the look on his face well. It was the look everyone got when they were tired of my shit.
“I believe there is more to it. I was informed just yesterday you chased a man around the city before shoving him in the back of a truck. What was that about?”
“That is none of your business. And how did someone inform you of it when it just happened?” I didn’t think I could get angrier but somehow, he’d made it happen. Like it was his own special gift to piss me off. “Have you been watching me?”
“I wouldn’t say watching you, more like... keeping an interest.”
I narrowed my gaze. “I’m going to say this nicely since you seem to enjoy toying with me. I don’t want to work for you. Right now, I want to go home, get in bed, and forget this day even happened.”
His eyebrows fluttered up in surprise. “You don’t want to hear the job first? The pay? Anything? What if I offered you your greatest wish?”
This man wasn’t used to being turned down. I knew enough about men like him to know no matter what the job consisted of, I would never complete it to his satisfaction, to his very exact specifications, to the picture he’d painted of it in his head. Which always made me wonder, when I encountered his type, why he didn’t just do it himself and not involve a third party that could testify in a courtroom?
He waited for my answer, finally, for once, not speaking. I let the silence hang between us, hoping he squirmed on the inside waiting for me to jump in his lap and tell him what I wanted for Christmas.
After a long uncomfortable silence, hopefully on his part, as well as mine, I answered. “Even if you offered me everything I’ve always wanted—which is a pony, by the way—I’d still have to say no.”
The café suddenly became silent. I glanced around and watched as the other patrons gathered their belongings, like they didn’t have a care in the world, and walked out. Even the wait staff that were working on a short line moseyed back to the kitchen.
Not. Good.
He leaned toward me, an enigmatic smile still decorating his lovely mouth. “You see, I don’t have to ask your permission for this. I can force you to work for me, and every step of the way you’d be fighting me. Eventually, you’d say something stupid with that mouth of yours and I’d accidentally kill you. I’d really hate for that to happen. You are very nice to look at, after all.”
A chill wiggled down my spine, along with my stomach, my heart, my intestines. All the vital organs now sat in a puddle in my boots. It occurred to me, as I watched every other human walk out of the café, at least no one would witness me rage crying this time. Because the tears were building, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to hold them back.
Who was I kidding? These were from fear, not rage.
I tried to keep my tone even and light, despite the lack of oxygen my body had cut off. “I understand you want me to work for you. I also understand you have some kind of magical ability that makes you the big bad. But explain to me, if you can do all this, why do you need me? I’ll just get in your way...with my mouth, as you so eloquently put it.”
He leaned away, and I took a full breath for the first time in minutes.
“That is an excellent question. I’m not ready to reveal why I need you just yet, but I promise to tell you if you agree.”
“Didn’t you just say you don’t need me to agree?”
I tried not to focus on his lips as he spoke. It had to be the glamour, and not the year and a half since I’d been properly laid.
“You are correct. But things will be a lot easier if you agree to help me and we worked together, as a team.”
Hot anger slithered through me. Finally something I could latch onto and feed. “Do team members force each other into submission with their magic? Ambush each other in shady alleyways? Stalk each other from their places of employment. No. I don’t think they do. You want a lackey...or maybe a pretty zombie...I don’t know. Just keep that freak flag flapping away from me.”
He chuckled and it zipped through me in a way that only added to my anger. “Why don’t we go to my house and discuss this further?”
“Oh, hell no. One of us would end up killing the other.”
It would totally be him murdering me. But I’d put up a fight if he didn’t lock my body down with his weird voodoo powers.
Like he hadn’t heard a word I said, he tipped back the rest of his mug, sat it on the table, stood up, and slipped his hoodie back on. The
n he held his hand out for me to take.
I grimaced and tried not to do it, but I put my hand in his and let him walk me out of the café. The bastard didn’t even leave a tip on the table. It was reason enough for me to hate him.
We walked down the sidewalk toward the corner. My own building was only a few blocks away. I tried to force myself to head that way, to run fast and far. But it didn’t work. I would strip down and do the macarena right now if he wanted me to.
“It’s a lovely morning, don’t you think?”
I gritted my teeth. “Sure, Mary Poppins, lovely morning to be kidnapped by a psychopath.”
“Oh, Zoey, I’m not crazy. I’m just determined.”
“I’m sure Hitler said the same thing.”
He froze, mid-step, and turned to face me. I swallowed hard as he gripped my upper arms in his hands.
“Let’s get one thing clear here. I’m not a bad guy. Right now, you might be thinking I am, and that’s fine, think what you like, but please know this is all for a good reason.”
The hard look in his eyes told me he wouldn’t be gentle about snapping my bones, so I kept my mouth shut.
He took my arm in his again and marched me alongside him. My bag bounced on my hip and after a moment he took it from my shoulder and slung it over his own.
Shit. Now he had my notes and I couldn’t make a run for it.
We continued until we reached a black SUV idling on a curb. He opened the back door for me and for the first time since I had met the man, I did what he wanted without his prompting.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, as he climbed in after me.
I crossed my arms and glared. “You can fuck right off with that. I’m not a dog.”
He chuckled and buckled his seat belt. I followed suit and settled my pounding forehead against the chilled window as the driver turned the car on and we began our drive.
Fin had released his hold on me and apparently, I’d put up more of a fight mentally than I thought. My entire head was pounding like it had just been released from vice.
“And what happens after I finish this job of yours? Are you going to kill me?” I asked him.
The chief and I had a tense relationship. We’d always been that way, since the day he found me standing over my parents’ corpses and took me home. The man wasn’t the affectionate type, but I liked to think he’d be a little upset at my untimely demise. If he would come after this guy...
I didn’t even know his name. It hit me; he’d never introduced himself.
“By the way, who the hell are you? You never told me who or what you are.”
He turned his head to look at me. “You can call me Fin. As for what I am...we can discuss that later. I haven’t forgotten I owe you an answer.”
Fin. I turned his name over and over in my head. I’d never heard of a creature with that name. I tried to avoid supernatural cases if I could help it, being the fragile breakable human type.
“So? Are you going to kill me?”
He didn’t look at me now, focusing out his passenger window. The driver in the front hadn’t even opened the divider to check on us once. Were all his employee’s drones for his magic?
“I told you. I’m not a bad guy. I can’t say I won’t kill you. You are so very forthcoming with your opinion, after all, but I promise to try not to kill you. How’s that?”
I stared at him, mouth open. “Not comforting at all. Thank you.”
When he didn’t respond, I tried to focus on where we were headed. Out of the city as far as I could tell. The packed gridded streets had given way to suburbs with pretty picket fences.
Worry ate at my gut. Where on earth was he taking me? Obviously somewhere no one would hear my screams.
We weaved around country roads to open fields. I loved the city. Country air did terrible things to my hair. It had learned to thrive on smog and pollution.
“Are we there yet?” I asked.
He grunted and then looked over at me as if he’d completely forgotten my presence. “Cute. Actually, this is as good a time as any. We’ll be at my house soon and unfortunately I can’t have you knowing its location.”
“What does that mean?”
He tilted his head, his hair falling forward around his chin. It was the last thing I saw before the world went dark.
Chapter Six
I woke up to a ceiling so ornate it belonged in a museum, or one of those steamy period movies which always seemed to contain the same long, fancy hallway.
There were carvings in the molding, and gold leafed edges. I continued to stare at the beauty of the room from my position flat on my back. The closed curtains ran from the floor to the high ceiling in a champagne silk. The only light in the room came from a lamp on a fancy secretary desk in the corner.
I slowly sat up, waiting for the headache to return, but thankfully there was none. My stomach let out a long gurgle.
My watch read ten p.m. which meant I hadn’t eaten at all today, if it was even the same day. Could my host assume control of my body while I remained unconscious? Not a fun thought.
I scooted over to the edge of the bed and then noticed my outfit. Someone had put me in a black silk nightgown. It had spaghetti straps and lace trimming the edges as it rested on the tops of my feet. It fit as if it were made custom for my petite frame. I didn’t have the mental capacity to think about who’d changed me while I’d been asleep.
I didn’t want to know, and if I was honest, it didn’t matter; I needed to focus on getting out of this apparently well-furnished prison.
I didn’t see my clothes or bag anywhere. No phone. No computer. Nothing to use as a weapon. Had Fin done this before and knew to remove any sharp objects?
I hopped off the edge of the bed, a good foot down from where my feet hung over the side. The floors were a shiny hardwood and warm under my feet. I padded over to the desk to see if there were any pens, letter openers; hell, I’d even take a tape dispenser if it weighed enough to hurt when I used it to hit someone in the face. But after a thorough look, I found nothing except a few pieces of paper and some dust bunnies. Well, at least this room didn’t get used often.
I wandered around, looking under the nightstands, under the bed, in the armoire. Nothing to use as a weapon and no way to escape. The windows were tall but didn’t open. They appeared more decorative than functional.
I pushed at the panes and then lay my face against the chilled glass to check the thickness. Oh yeah, I wouldn’t be able to break that without something heavy. No immediate exits, no clothes, no shoes.
I’d been in worse situations, strangely enough.
I paced back and forth. Movement usually helped me think better than sitting still, a trait the chief had hated about me when I was a teenager.
Being stuck on desk duty meant I didn’t have to check into work. No one would come looking for me after the meltdown I had the last time everyone was there. Hawk and the chief would eventually reach out but likely not for a week. Somehow Fin had found the most opportune time for him to kidnap me.
Just my luck.
I crossed the room to the windows again and tested the give on the frame and the seal. Nope, wouldn’t budge even when I put my shoulder into it. Wasn’t this some kind of fire code infraction? Not that it mattered, as I looked out and realized my room was three floors from the dark garden below my window.
I’d watched enough movies to know I wouldn’t be able to tie together bed sheets properly, even if I could get out the window. With this flimsy nightgown on, I would die of exposure or worse.
I sat on the bed again, hiked the silk up around my hips so I could sit cross legged, and took a deep breath. When pacing didn’t work, I would sit, until that didn’t work, and then I would resume my walk. It was a process long honed from hours of waiting and thinking.
Fin hadn’t come to check on me. Right now, I might even agree to his demands if I could have a damn cheeseburger, with fries, obviously. My stomach let out another lurch at t
he thought of food.
I closed my eyes and let my breathing even out. There had to be a way out of this room. Obviously, Fin needed me, so he would come for me at some point. I just didn’t know when, and if I could handle the wait.
For the first time, I understood how my targets felt as they sweated in the box waiting for me to interrogate them. Except this wasn’t the Office, and I didn’t know what to expect from Fin. At the very least, he could control my mind and my body. At the most...I didn’t know because I still couldn’t figure out what species he belonged to.
Warlock? Vampire? Fae? A mix or hybrid?
“Fuck,” I whispered, simply because it made me feel better to curse out loud.
It occurred to me I could yell for him. Maybe he’d respond if I got annoying enough.
“Fin!” I shouted.
The sound rang through the room. I waited to hear something. A response, or heavy footsteps in the hallway. Nothing. I missed the cacophony of city sounds outside my tiny apartment window right now. Honking, shouting, cursing, all of it.
I tried again. “Fin!”
I waited; my heartbeat slowed back down as I tried to focus on listening instead of tensing up for his entrance.
Nothing. Maybe he wasn’t on this floor. Seeing as they’d stashed me away in the back of the manor maybe he just couldn’t hear me.
I climbed off the bed, and the nightgown fluttered back around my ankles. I appreciated the style, if not the execution. If a man wanted to buy me nice clothes, I usually wouldn’t object. Maybe just not while I was unconscious.
I didn’t care if this douche could control me. When I saw him again, I would get one good punch in before he could stop me. If he was a man, he would take it knowing he deserved it.
You know what? Fuck this. I climbed off the bed, went to the door, and started pounding on it. I gripped the knob to shake it. Maybe if I threatened their interior design, they would let me out.
When I twisted the handle, it opened.
Oh, hell. Rule number of one of captivity, Zoey, you idiot, check the door before you spend an hour trying to escape through other means.