Page 45

They picked this location for more than just isolation. It’s also a more effective jail cell than a luxurious hotel penthouse.

“Let’s go over the rules, Natalie,” Brennan growls, holding up a finger.

My cheeks brighten with shame.

“First one – shut up.”

I nod, because the ball gag is still dangling from his hand. That will be the solution if I can’t obey the first of these rules.

“Secondly, do what we say.”

Again, I nod. Any of these three towering warriors couldmakeme do what they say, so resistance would be futile in any case.

“Thirdly, don’t be disrespectful…”

Now, wait a damned second…

Brennan can’t hear the voice in my head, so he continues barking orders at me.

“Now, get into your sleeping bag. Yours is the middle one.”

Fine!

So, he likes to boss me around, does he? Well, I can play the obedient little prisoner – as long as it suits my purpose to do so. It might even help me find the opportunity to escape. The more they trust me, the sloppier they’ll get – and I’ve seen how these warriors operate.

They’re lethal, brutal and dangerous – and unbelievably alluring…

…but they’re also rank amateurs at this kidnapping business, and I’ve literally been trained in how to react in this kind of situation since I was a little girl.

I nod, and turn to look at the four sleeping bags.

Looks like I’ll be sleeping sandwiched between two of these Aurelian warriors – presumably so I can’t escape during the night.

I look up at Brennan, hating that I have to ask permission for something so basic.

“May I use the washroom first?”

I sound polite, but inside, I’m cursing this haughty bastard out. I know it would be stupid to verbalize my anger and frustration, though. That would be the fastest way to get slung over Brennan’s massive shoulder and spanked again.

I’m not going to push him if I don’t have to – even if it means swallowing my pride.

I’m rewarded for my prudence. Brennan nods curtly, and gestures to the tent I’d noticed earlier.

Uncertainly, I walk to the tent – unzipping the door flap and stepping inside.

LED lights flicker softly above me as I enter. I zip the door flap closed behind me and look around.

This toilet tent is camouflaged on the outside, blending in to the dark greys of the underground camp. The interior reveals that it isn’t the color of the fabric that disguises it – there must be some kind of photoreceptor camouflage on the exterior, similar to how chameleons change the color of their skin.

I bet that if the Aurelians set this tent up in a lush, verdant forest, it would turn green and brown. In snow, it would appear sparkling white. It’s kind of a signature of their species to combine the practicalities of operating in a war zone with the decadence of a private toilet cubicle.

Inside the tent, everything is high tech. There’s a toilet here, plus a shower, taps to wash your hands, and even soap. It looks like something a rich family would take on a camping trip – so they can pretend to be roughing it in nature.

But these Aurelians didn’t bring this tent for camping. It’s designed for their long campaigns into enemy territory – during their hundred years of service, and for the occasions in which they had to leave their Reaver behind and journey into the wilderness on foot.

I do my business and finish up, wash my hands in the oversized basin. As I scrub my nails, I look around desperately – but there’s nothing I can see in here to help me escape; not unless I want to cover my hands in liquid soap and throw it into Brennan’s eyes.

I laugh for a second, surprising myself at the absurdity of even that plan. It’s a nervous laugh, but it’s better than screaming – and at least it demonstrates that I haven’t surrendered to my situation yet.