by Faith Gibson
“Help me get her on the gurney,” the first guard told the newcomer.
“Gah! She reeks,” the second guard spat when he got a whiff of her.
“Yeah, you would too if you were stuck in the hole. Now, shut up and grab her feet.”
Sophia kept her body lax as the two men not so gently hoisted her onto the stretcher. It was easy to keep her eyes closed since she was used to the dark. The two men carried her in silence until they got to what she prayed was the infirmary and not another cell. They didn’t transfer her body to a table. Instead, they placed the stretcher down and left her.
When she didn’t hear voices for a few minutes, Sophia took a chance and barely cracked her eyes. She didn’t open them all the way, just wide enough to take in the room where she was. While she was waiting, voices from the hallway grew louder. Crying drowned out the men speaking. The door to the infirmary opened again, and a hysterical woman was brought into the room with Sophia. It was all she could do to keep her eyes closed. She was curious as to why the woman was there.
“Strap her down,” a male voice instructed.
“No, no please. I’ll behave. Just get me something for the pain,” she begged.
“Shut up. It’s your own fault you’re in here,” another voice chimed in.
Sophia had wanted to get out of her cell, but now her plan at playing dead was getting the best of her.
“What is that smell?” one of the guards asked.
“It’s her. She’s been in the hole for a while.”
“Someone needs to hose the bitch down, fuck.”
Sophia wished someone would hose her down. Even if they stripped the hide off her skin, it would be better than the way she smelled. The woman next to her continued to get louder. “No, don’t stick me, please,” she begged again. A few seconds later, the room was quiet. The shuffling of the men’s feet sounded as they left the room. They had obviously drugged the woman, because she wasn’t moving. Sophia opened her eyes barely a slit and looked over at where the woman lie strapped to her table. From what Sophia could see, the woman was light skinned. Her voice had sounded American, but just because she didn’t have an accent didn’t mean anything.
As she lay there on the table, Sophia began formulating a plan. If only she knew how long she had before someone returned to the room. Even if she was able to switch places with the other woman, her plan wouldn’t work until she had the chance at bathing. No, her only hope at this point was the other woman waking up and Sophia pleading with her to tell someone she was there. If this woman wasn’t in solitary, she was probably being held for some minor infraction. Not murder. Gods, how did self-defense become a guilty verdict with no trial? Because she wasn’t in the States.
The door knob turned, and Sophia calmed her breathing once again. If this was the doctor, she needed him to believe she was close to death. The smell of cologne tickled her nose, and she prayed to all that was holy she wouldn’t sneeze. The scent grew stronger as the man closed the distance. He placed his fingers on her wrist to check her pulse. The smell dissipated as he stepped away from her. He must have sat down because a chair squeaked. Papers were shuffled right before he said, “Sir, the American is very weak. I can start an IV. Sir, if she doesn’t wake up, we’ll never get the truth out of her. Will do. And Sir? She really needs a bath. Yes, Sir.” The receiver was replaced on the base, and the chair squeaked once again.
Drawers were opened and closed. Wheels rolled across the floor. Sophia’s arm was lifted and a tourniquet placed around her bicep. Having fluids pumped through her body would allow her to remain where she was for a while as well as help her gain a little of her strength back. The man tapped at the veins, and soon she felt a slight sting. The needle was removed from the catheter, and tape was placed over the tube to hold it in place. When the tourniquet was released, Sophia had to stop herself from rubbing the area. The liquid nourishment was a welcome respite from the mush she’d been eating for however long she’d been there. She relaxed even further into herself, and waited to see what happened with the woman.
She didn’t have to wait long. The doctor obviously gave her something to counteract the effects of the earlier drug, because the woman gasped. When she became aware of her surroundings, she began begging again, “Please, I need something for pain. I can’t take it anymore.”
“I suggest you be quiet. You should have thought about pain before you slapped one of the guards. Our men do not take it lightly being struck by a woman. I will stitch your face, and you will keep your mouth shut. If you utter one word, I will leave the wound open, and you will have a nasty scar for the rest of your life. What will it be?” the doctor asked hatefully.
“I’ll be quiet,” the woman whispered.
More drawers opened and closed. Water turned on and ran for a few seconds before being turned back off. “I’m going to clean the area before I stitch it.” More rustling and rolling of wheels followed. Sophia prayed for the woman, asking the gods to give her strength to get through the next few minutes without speaking.
A hissing noise floated across the air. Hopefully the man had sprayed something on her skin to deaden the area. Without looking, Sophia knew when the doctor touched the needle to skin. The woman whimpered, but didn’t cry out. Instead she inhaled and didn’t let out her breath until the man was finished. The wheels rolled across the floor, and the water turned on once again. “I’ll send someone to take you back to your cell,” was all the doctor said. He offered her no pain medicine, no kind words, nothing.
Once the door closed, Sophia blinked several times, making sure the colored contacts were in place. “Hey,” she whispered to the other woman.
The woman sniffled but couldn’t wipe her face since she was still strapped down. “I thought you were dead,” she said through her tears.
“I almost was. Listen, they’ve been keeping me in solitary. It’s a small black hole with no light. They won’t let me talk to an American Consulate. My name is Clara Fort. Please, when you get out of here, tell someone they’re keeping me captive. I’m begging you. You’re my only hope of getting out of here.”
“What are you in for?”
“Murder, only I didn’t do what they said I did. I was attacked by a guard at the Valley of the Queens. He died, but I didn’t murder him. Please, you’ve got to help me.”
The woman nodded. “I will. If I ever get out of here. They don’t take too kindly to women.”
The door knob turned, and Sophia closed her eyes. Her only hope of survival was unstrapped and taken back to a cell.
Chapter Nineteen
Nikolas and Ezekiel spent several hours at the Embassy. By the time they left, Nik was ready to let his beast loose. He explained more than once how they weren’t positive Sophia had been arrested, but the timeline fit. If she wasn’t sitting in prison wounded, they needed to know so they could look elsewhere. The consulate explained the Egyptian laws, and if Sophia had been arrested for murder, she was looking at a long stay. The laws were different there than in the States. Nik understood that. He wanted to know, one way or the other, if she was in jail. If she was, he would continue looking for her parents. If she wasn’t, he’d need to search for her.
Before they left, the consulate assured them he would do everything he could to find out if she had been arrested. Now, they were to sit tight and wait. Nikolas was tired of waiting. Tired of not knowing where his mate was or whether or not she was okay.
Even though it was early morning, Nikolas decided to lie down for a while. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, but he wanted to meditate. He told Zeke to make himself at home, and he retreated to his suite. Once he was comfortable in the middle of the king-size bed, he relaxed his body and his mind. He closed himself off from everything around him and focused on one thing… Sophia. When he found her, she was no longer in the dark. The air around her was bright, yet stale. His spirit called out to hers. At first there was no answer. As Nik continued to focus on that tether he’d found before, his
beast tried to add his energy.
That had never happened before. Normally, when Nik was deep in his subconscious, the beast shied away and let him do what he needed. This time, his shifter was front and center. He didn’t want to lose the tenuous connection he had with his mate, so instead of dropping it and arguing with the Goyle inside, he allowed it to join him. At first his spirit felt heavy, like it would burst forth from his chest. Once the Goyle found where it wanted to be, the spirit settled down and was better focused on Sophia.
I was wondering when you’d find me. Sophia’s in trouble, and I don’t know how long I can keep her strong. You have to come get her.
Nik was startled at the voice. Who the fuck could possibly be in his head? He was just about to ask when he felt words flowing from his mind. We are trying. Do you know where you are?
Prison infirmary for now. Won’t be for long.
Keep her safe until we can get there. We’re coming.
The beast retreated, and the connection was lost. What in the holy fucking hell just happened? Did his shifter take over his mind? Did you take over my mind? Nik had always spoken to his inner Gargoyle, but it had never spoken back. It still didn’t. Besides, who was his beast speaking to? Nik was pretty fucking sure if he told anyone what just happened, they’d think he was crazy. He replayed the short conversation between his shifter and whoever he’d spoken to. The voice said they were in the prison infirmary. Zeke’s suspicion had been right, but how did they prove it? Tell the authorities the voice in his head told him so? They’d lock Nik up in a psych ward somewhere.
After thinking about it, the only logical explanation was that his shifter was talking to Sophia’s. If they had already completed the bond, that might make sense. Might. They had shared one kiss. Never mind that the kiss had gotten Nik’s cock hard as stone, it was still a limited amount of physical contact. In all his years of documenting the Gargoyles, Nikolas had never heard of inner shifters being able to contact one another. If his and Sophia’s were able to do it, it was likely others could as well. They were probably like Nik, though - afraid someone would think they’d lost their mind.
His phone rang in the living area, so he rose and headed to that part of the villa to answer it. Surprised to see Rafael’s name on the I.D., he answered, “Is Julian all right?”
“Hello to you too, Nikolas. As far as I know, he’s fine. How are you?” The tone of Rafe’s voice was tense.
“Crazy. I’m going out of my fucking head trying to get to my mate.”
“That’s why I’m calling. Julian replayed what happened with Xavier, yes?”
“He told me; dear old Uncle Alistair is gunning for you.”
“Yes, well, it seems I’m not the only one he’s targeting. Nik, I received a package in the mail. It contains photographs of you, Sophia, her parents, and Ezekiel. The postmark was New Atlanta, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t behind having you followed.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Whoever was targeting Sophia found out about me. It seems they knew about Zeke, too. Hold up. How do you know who the people are in the other photos? You’ve never seen them.”
“I had a sit down with Jonas earlier. He’s ready to help any way he can.”
“Rafe, I need those pictures, especially the ones of Sophia’s parents. The clues she was given are vague and make no sense.”
“Clues? So you’ve found Sophia?”
“Not exactly. I saw her once, but she disappeared again. Tessa put Zeke and me in touch with one another. Sophia had visited one of her aunts who lives here and shared the clues with her. Zeke hooked up with his sister. I mean, they didn’t hook up because that would be wrong, but they met up. We’re working together to figure this out. Have you shown the pictures to Jules yet?”
“No. I wanted to give you a heads up first. I’ll take them over there right now.”
“I appreciate it. The sooner we can take a look at them, the sooner we can see if they give us any insight as to where her parents are.”
“I have to warn you; the pictures are pretty dark. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“I understand. But I also have a super genius for a brother. I have no doubt he’ll be able to brighten the photos enough to see the backgrounds.”
“I hope you’re right. I’ll head over to the lab now. Take care of yourself. Be well, my brother.”
“And to you, my King.”
“What was that about, if you don’t mind me asking?” Zeke had been sitting next to Nik while he was on the phone with Rafael.
“It would appear whoever is behind Sam and Monica’s disappearance has been keeping tabs on us all. They took photographs and sent them to Rafael. He is taking them to the lab so Julian can scan them and send them to us. If we can get clear shots of Sam, we might be able to figure out where they are.”
“That would be wonderful, since the clues were useless.”
“I agree. It shouldn’t take too long until we get a copy. Again, all we can do is wait. I’m going to make breakfast. Would you like something?”
Zeke stood and stretched. “Yes, if you don’t mind. I’m going to take a quick shower while you cook.”
“Sounds good.” Nikolas pulled stuff out of the fridge to make omelets. His stomach was churning with anticipation, but he needed to keep his strength up. He started a pot of coffee and whipped up some eggs. While he was waiting on Zeke to shower, he considered telling the man about what happened during his meditation. They hadn’t talked about Zeke’s mate. They hadn’t talked about Zeke at all, really. Nik had no idea how old the man was. His parents met approximately two hundred years ago, so he could be anywhere from thirty-something to way over one hundred.
When Zeke returned to the kitchen, his feet were bare and his hair still damp. Nik never paid much attention to men before, but his guest was good-looking.
“Why are you staring at me?” Zeke asked.
“I was wondering how old you are,” Nik answered almost honestly. No need in making the male uncomfortable.
“I’m fifty-seven. How old are you?” he asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Five hundred and twenty-three. The reason I was wondering is you look like you’re in your early thirties. You must have met your mate, right?” Nik asked, but almost wished he hadn’t when he saw the frown that came across Zeke’s face. “If that’s a bad subject, forget I asked.”
“It is a sore subject, but the way I see it, we are going to be one big happy Clan before long. Well, maybe not happy, but Clan nonetheless. Tessa’s the one who figured out what triggers the initial transitions in half-bloods. Actually, she read it in one of Jonas’ journals, but to this day, my father swears he doesn’t know what causes the initial change. Tessa feels he is trying to keep the family safe in his own misguided way. I disagree with his thought process. Once I found out what the trigger was, I made it a mission to help my siblings not go through what I did.”
“And that was?” Nik asked as he put their plates on the table. The men sat down and Zeke took a sip of his coffee.
“I transitioned right after my thirtieth birthday. Had I known the cause, I’d more than likely have my mate by my side. As it was, I had no idea. My mate could be anyone I was around at the time, but I would have known what signs to look for. So instead of spending the rest of my life with the one the fates chose for me, I’m now alone and will be the rest of my life. I know I could date, and don’t get me wrong, I go out for an occasional one night stand. I do have needs. But it’s not fair to string someone along who falls in love with me when I cannot return that love one hundred percent. I vowed to tell my siblings who have yet to transition the truth.
“Take Xenia for example. Had Sophia not arrived when she did, Xenia would probably have torn Keene apart from sheer frustration. She had no idea what was happening or why. I’m not saying that Sam and Monica getting kidnapped is a good thing, but at least one good thing came from it.”
Nik put his fork down and wiped his mout
h. “What happens if you run into your mate again after all this time? Would the pull still be there?”
Zeke swallowed the bite he was chewing. “I would assume so, but she would have continued aging. Not that I’m so shallow I wouldn’t still want her, but how would she feel to see her intended looking so much younger? For human women, they continue aging until they have a baby.”
“Let me ask you this then. What about two men? If a Gargoyle is gay and mates with another man, they’ll never biologically have children. Will the human continue aging? That doesn’t seem too fair to me.”
“I’ve never known any gay shifters. That’s a legitimate question.”
Nik hated to think of Jasper spending the rest of his long life with no true mate by his side. “Hopefully the fates are keeping up with the times and have that figured out. For now, we need to figure out how to get Sophia out of that prison.”
“If she’s even there. I’m having my doubts,” Zeke said.
“She’s there. I know for sure.”
“And how do you know this, exactly?”
Nik took a deep breath and answered, “Because I spoke to her.”
Zeke laughed, but when Nik maintained a straight face, Zeke sobered. “You’re serious?”
Nik nodded. “Actually, I think my shifter spoke to hers. I know this is going to sound crazy, but when I went to my room to rest, I meditated. In a previous session, I saw Sophia. She was running, and a hand reached out to grab her. The next few times it was dark. Sophia was there; I could feel her presence. But she was being kept somewhere dark. Normally, my shifter stays in the back of my mind while I’m relaxing. This time he shoved his way to the front, and I swear to all that’s holy, it connected with Sophia. Or her shifter to be more precise. The voice in my head said we needed to hurry. It wasn’t sure how long it could keep Sophia strong. My spirit asked where they were, and hers replied the prison infirmary. Zeke, I know it sounds crazy. Have you ever heard tale of any of your siblings being able to talk to their mates that way?”