by Isa Fae
TRAPPED
BY
SHANNON ECKRICH
Trapped © copyright 2017 Shannon Eckrich
Copyright notice: All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Cover by: Katie de Long, Rebecca Hamilton, and Gwen Knight
Edited by: Dottie Taylor
Formatted by: Mariana Thorn
All rights reserved.
About Isa Fae
In the world of Isa Fae, magic is both life source and currency, and running out of magic means certain death. But beyond barter, the only way to obtain more magic is by collecting energy from other dimensions…an option that hasn’t been available to them since a nuclear war rendered Earth uninhabitable, cutting off the Fae’s primary source.
With the stores of magic dwindling, and no access to the human world to get more, the Fae must find new ways to distribute magic and protect what little they have. But when the factions can’t agree on how to move forward and secede from one another, it leaves each to be represented by their own leaders and ruled by their own laws.
What lengths will each faction be willing to go to survive? And what price will survivors from Earth pay to be a part of their new world?
Trapped
Only the strongest will survive.
Miranda Sage
After killing the most prominent man’s son in Faction Twelve, Miranda Sage is on the run. And Lord Manchester will stop at nothing to get her back as she's his most prized possession. Her only chance for survival is to hide. But how can she when Eric Winters is on her trail?
Eric Winters
When it comes to hunting witches, Eric Winters is the man to call. No matter what, he always gets his man…or woman, especially if they’re a witch. To him, witches should have never been allowed into their faction. It doesn’t matter if Fae need their magic or not, they are not to be trusted. The best witch is a dead witch. Or so he thought.
Two sworn enemies trapped in an abandoned cabin during a fierce snowstorm. One bitter with resentment for Fae having to depend on witches for their powers. The other determined to end the senseless slaying of witches only for magic. But as the secrets of their worlds merge, it changes everything. They discover more than they intended to. Love. Now, their ultimate goal is to save the faction by bringing Fae and witches together and ending the darkness Lord Manchester has over the land. That means going up against the Lord himself. If they fail, not only will many innocent lives be lost, but the Lord will make sure their deaths won't be an easy one.
1
Miranda
“Milady, no!” Ronan stood in front of the stairs, his scrawny arms stretched wide, hands clenching the banister. “You must not go up there! Milord has gone crazy again. He is sure to bash your head in this time! I heard it with my own two ears!”
“Stop using that gibberish, Ronan, and get out of my way!” Miranda Sage had no time to deal with this little imp right now. “I know he has her up there!” Leaning forward, she gripped both of his arms and pulled, but the little bugger held the banisters like a leech adhered to flesh. He refused to budge as he looked up at her with his round, brown eyes. His face solemn and pale. A Fae child. Stubborn and tenacious. His actions meaning only to protect her.
A scream reverberated down the stairs. The sound awakening the fury inside of her as she glared at Lord Manchester’s door. Not again. Not in my presence. Miranda barreled into Ronan’s body, nearly trampling him as he fell in front of her and slid down the steps in between her legs.
“No—don’t!” He snatched at her ankle and missed as she took the steps two at a time, not letting her long, white dress slow her down. Miranda smashed into the door, and it flew open, banging into the wall behind it. The door bounced back, and she stuck her hand out to keep it from smashing into her face.
She stopped and sucked in all the air around her, hyper aware of how heavy her heart sat in her chest. No, please. Not Sarah.
Lord Manchester held Sarah’s small body off the ground, her back to the wall and his thick, meaty fingers around her neck. The once vibrant, purple glow from her bracelet had faded, and her mouth hung open as if she were about to scream. But she wouldn’t. At eleven years young, Sarah knew nothing about fighting back. She had only been taught submission. Taught to obey her master. No matter if he was an asshole or not. No. Monster would be a better word to describe the Lord. Devil. Sadist. Bastard.
He leaned in and closed his mouth over Sarah’s, not realizing Miranda was standing in the doorway. Or, maybe he did, and he didn’t care. What may have looked like a simple kiss, wasn’t. Lord Manchester had all intentions of draining every bit of the little witch’s magic. Something Miranda couldn’t let happen. Something the Fae did to witches all the time. And definitely something the Lord did on a daily basis, especially to the servants who angered or defied him. Sometimes he even did it for fun. Just to watch them squirm and suffer.
Miranda rushed toward them, but before she could reach them, he inhaled deeply, a feral growl rumbling in the base of his throat, and he released his prisoner. Sarah’s fragile body dropped to the floor, her black hair fanning out around her head. Her legs and arms contorted in unnatural ways. Eyes open. Face wrinkly and pale. And the purple on her bracelet no longer shined. Her light had gone out. Her magic sucked dry.
She was gone.
“No, no, no!” Hot tears stabbed Miranda’s eyes as she collapsed on the floor next to Sarah’s lifeless body. “Sarah, no!” She sobbed, lifting the little witch’s head up and placing it in her lap. She stroked her silky black hair with her trembling fingers as her body shook violently. She promised to protect her from the Lord. Promised to protect all of them. She remained strong while everyone else under his control had become weak. They bowed to him. Even shook in his presence. But not Miranda Sage. Miranda had been defiant. She was a fighter by nature. Which had been one of the few reasons the Lord chose her as his prized possession. The other reason had been her powers. While others could be drained from their energy in a matter of hours, he could feed off of her for weeks. Use her magic to give the high he craved. She had no choice but to let him do as he pleased. It was part of her mission with the Renegades. The mission to bring him down once and for all.
“Get up, whore!” Lord Manchester’s loud baritone voice boomed over her. Grabbing her hair, he yanked her to her feet. He took her arms, squeezing them hard, and swung her around, pushing her back against the wall. She winced as he knocked the breath out of her. His black eyes, soulless eyes, captured hers, but she wouldn’t let him see any of her weaknesses. She had to stay strong and remind herself under any circumstances, she could not crumble in front of him.
“Fuck you! You’re a bastard!” She spit in his face, knowing there would be consequences, but she really didn’t care right now. The bastard deserved that and more. He’d taken a life from a child. A fuck
ing child! She’d be happy to see the day he went down.
The edges of his lips came up into a sneer. “You interfered again, my pet.” His voice was calm, controlled. And there was no denying in his eyes he was enjoying her rebellious behavior in the middle of his magical high. Of all the witches, he liked to punish her more. Only because she was strong and wouldn’t bend easily. He could torture her for weeks, which he had before, and her flame would remain resilient. He had no idea why she wouldn’t easily submit to him as the others did. Whatever the reason, she knew he wanted to find a way to control her. And, by the looks of it, he would start now. “You will not talk to me in that manner!”
“I will talk to you anyway I please, you murderer!” The anger flared up inside of her, and she wouldn’t back down, no matter if it compromised her mission or not. Fae sickened her, burned her to the core. They always expected the witches to bow down to them. But not her. She would never be controlled. “You don’t own me!”
Lord Manchester drew in a deep breath, his muscles tensing under his taut skin as flames engulfed his eyes. He jerked her away from the wall, spun her around as if she weighed nothing, and pushed her to the bed.
The edge of the mattress caught her just behind her knees, causing her to lose her balance and fall on the bed. As soon as Miranda hit the mattress, she flipped over and scrambled to her hands and knees, backing as far away from him as she could. The look in his dark eyes was different. Crazier. Haunted somehow. Like he’d been possessed by something she couldn’t see.
“I will break you.” His eyes never left hers as he unbuckled his belt and slid it out through the loops in his black pants. His nostrils flared, his hand gripping the belt, and his lips tightly pressed together.
Her body shook as she struggled to stabilize herself on the mattress. A beating. Fine. He could beat her. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done that. “You will never break me. Do you hear me, Mason?” She growled the words, determination setting in. Sure, she knew she was egging him on, but it would be worth the bruises. He would never be able to control her. Nobody would. Ever.
“I should have done this a long time ago.” Mason dropped the belt to the floor and unbuttoned his pants as he stalked toward the bed.
Fear surged through Miranda as reality set in. No, he wouldn’t. “Mason…what are you… doing?” Her voice trembled as her body became tense. She couldn’t move.
“I will break you,” he repeated the same words as before as his hands reached out, grabbing her dress and flipping her over on her back. Before she could catch her breath, he had her legs, pulling her body toward him.
Miranda twisted and turned, bucked and screamed, but she couldn’t get out of his grasp. Mason was too strong for her to fight him off with her small frame. His fingers dug into her skin hard. And then the bottom of her dress went up to her hips, revealing her nudeness underneath.
“Mason, no!” Tears burned her eyes, her body becoming numb as the world spun around her. He grasped a handful of her hair, holding her head to the mattress while she struggled under his weight. He was going to do it. Take the only thing she had left. Mason Manchester would claim her very soul.
His knees forced her legs apart, and she could feel the hardness pressing against her inner thigh. “I will break you, my pet.” His breathing was heavy, his sour breath making its way into Miranda’s senses. Vomit. She was going to throw up.
Survive. Fight. Live. Miranda couldn’t give up now. She wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t save Sarah, but she’d be damned if Lord Manchester would take her too. Miranda brought her hands up, thanking the goddess he had forgotten to restrain them, and placed them upon his back. Squeezing her eyes shut, she sealed her fate.
Mason reared up screaming, stumbling backwards and tripping over the pants encircling his ankles. His head hit the floor with a sickening thump as she scrambled from the bed and made out through the door. The world rushed around her as she stumbled down the now deserted staircase, her eyes focused solely on her exit. Escape. She had to get out of the house, away from Mason. A witch using magic on the Fae was unheard of. The injection of Fae blood made them unable to fight back, and she would pay dearly with her life if anyone caught her. Found out about her secret.
Miranda finally reached the door and tore it open, only to smash into the chest of Huffington, Mason’s son. Before he could reach out and restrain her, she placed her hands on his chest to shove him away, but instead, she sent a shockwave of energy through him. The force caused the ground to shake at her feet, and Huffington’s eyes rolled into the back of his head right before his body dropped to the ground, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth.
She stood there, shocked. What had happened? She hadn’t meant to kill him. She only meant to immobilize him long enough for her to get away. Miranda had nothing against Huffington. He wasn’t like his father. Shouts and screams rang through the house, tearing her away from the motionless body in front of her. She had to get out of here while she could.
Miranda raced down the steps and over the driveway, nearly slipping on the ice-covered asphalt, eyes on the trees. In a matter of minutes her life had changed forever. Not only had she broken one of the rules in Faction Twelve, but she had also become a murderer.
2
Eric
Eric Winters had been nearly asleep when his phone rang. He reached over, eyes still closed, hand sweeping the end table, until the tips of his fingers brushed against hard plastic. He grabbed the phone and brought it over in front of his face, squinting against the light as he turned it on. “Fuck!” He let out a deep sigh and pushed the talk button.
“Winters.” His voice was groggy, tainted with sleep, and he sure as hell wasn’t happy he’d been disturbed. This had better be important.
“Winters. It’s Matryx.” Amelia’s voice was rushed. Like always. “Huffington Manchester is dead.”
That caught his attention. Eric sat up abruptly, his eyes now wide as he stared in the dark corner of his room. “Lord Manchester’s son? How?” Eric expected her to say he had died from an overdose of power, which had been fairly common with the younger generation of Fae. They were magic hungry. Not knowing when to stop until they were dead.
“Not actually sure of the specifics yet, but according to Lord Manchester, one of his servants brutally attacked him earlier today. Name is Miranda Sage. She may be the one responsible for his son’s death. Either way, he wants her found and brought back to him. Untouched.”
“Hmm…she must be pretty important to him if he wants her brought to him.” He raked his fingers through his hair, wanting nothing more than to end this conversation and to go back to bed. The past few weeks had been pretty rough on him. He’d been posted at The Luna undercover, investigating illegal transfers of witches. The club owner thought he could get one over on his customers by offering unregistered witches at a higher price. Witches without bracelets were dangerous. Not only were they untraceable, but a Fae wouldn’t be able to tell how much magic they had. The witch could be almost dry, or they could be completely filled to the brim with magic, causing the unsuspecting victim to become poisoned. A very dangerous situation. Lucky for them the unregisters turned out to be Fae posing as witches. Three weeks of no sleep and heavy drinking only to give the owner a slap on the wrist.
“Apparently, she’s his pet. Or his prized possession as he calls her. He wants to deal with her betrayal himself.” Amelia snorted. “She must be a good piece of ass to want her back so badly.”
Eric shook his head and grumbled. Witch and ass should never be spoken in the same sentence. At least, not in reference to sex. He despised the creatures with a passion. Every one of them would be dead if it were up to him. He could care less if he needed their power or not. It would serve her right to hand her back over to the Lord. He had been rumored to be sick and twisted when dealing with witches. Making them suffer to the point where they would beg for death.
“What’s this got to do with me?” He decided to get right
to the point. Amelia had to be calling him for a reason this late at night, not to just be telling him some story about a witch disobeying the law and possibly killing the Lord’s son.
“Eric, Lord Manchester asked for you.” Her end of the line went silent while she awaited his response. A few seconds passed, and nothing. “Come on, Eric.” Her voice turned whiny. “He knows you’re the best hunter, and you absolutely hate witches. This is your chance to bring one down. You can’t deny you enjoy the thrill of the hunt. And I’m sure he wouldn’t care what condition she was in as long as she still had a little life left in her.”
She had him there. He did love the adrenaline rush of locking onto a witch’s trail. Loved it more when they struggled and fought back. Nothing beat spilling the blood of witch scum. “You know me too well, Matryx.” He finally smiled at the thought of making this bitch bleed. “Where was she last seen?”
“Running out of Lord Manchester’s mansion towards the woods.”
Eric turned around and placed his feet on the cold, wooden floor. “Okay, give me a few and I’ll make my way over to see if I can pick up her impression.” He didn’t like the thought of missing out on another night’s sleep. But Eric knew the price on this witch’s head would be a substantial one. One that he couldn’t afford to pass up. Besides, it had been awhile since he had a little fun with a witch.
After he hung up the phone with Amelia, Eric rubbed his hands over his face, hoping this would be an easy one to catch. If she ran into the woods, she couldn’t have gotten too far. He would catch her, fight with her a bit, drag her back to the Lord, and be back in bed in no time. At least, that was his plan.
In under a half hour, he had showered, packed a bag with his cold weather gear, and was getting into his car. The snow had really begun to pick up, causing the tires to slide over the roadway, but like always, he remained in complete control. When he reached Lord Manchester’s mansion, he expected to see a crime scene in full swing, but the driveway was completely deserted, the two inches of snow over the asphalt untouched.