Page 17 of Magic Betrayed (The Shifter of Sheridan Avenue #2)

SEVENTEEN

I was so over the sensation of waking up in a strange place with no memory of how I’d gotten there.

So done with opening my eyes in the dark and wondering how many hours of my life I’d missed. What mistakes I’d made this time. And whether there would be any permanent consequences, for me or anyone I cared about.

I’d lost count of the number of times it had happened—this made three just in the last couple of days—and honestly, I was starting to feel like a real-life soap opera cliché.

On this occasion, it seemed I was still wearing the same clothes I’d put on the previous morning. There was a pain in my leg, an ache on one side of my head, and a bad taste in my mouth, but at least I wasn’t left wondering who’d undressed me.

Priorities.

The room I was in was, of course, dark, except for a sliver of light coming in from under the door. But that sliver was basically at eye level, because I’d apparently been dumped onto a cold, bare floor.

A definite downgrade from my last couple of involuntary naps.

So how had I ended up here? And where, exactly, was here ?

I rolled to my back, hoping it would help clear the fog, but it only served to notify me that my hands and feet had started to lose feeling from the bindings on my wrists and ankles. Though that could have been as much about temperature as blood supply. The room wasn’t exactly warm, and I’d been lying here, unmoving, for who knew how long.

A rather inconsiderate bunch of kidnappers, all things considered.

As I lay there flexing my fingers and toes in an effort to restore circulation, I reached through the fog for the last thing I remembered…

Walking. I’d been walking through the city, trying to pass the time and settle my nerves before… we were supposed to be rescuing Kes.

Raine. I heard my name. Saw a truck. A pair of boots.

Don’t you remember me?

The face flashed in my memory. Dark eyes, brown skin and floppy dark hair…

The rest of that memory slammed into me like a speeding train, carrying the weight of a thousand other moments I wished I could forget. All of my guilt and regrets and the burdens that plagued me when I woke in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep.

But it also answered so many questions.

I knew, now, exactly where I was. I knew why Kes hadn’t wanted me to find her. And I knew who Ari had seen.

He sleeps a lot. Screams sometimes. And I heard him crying.

And I also knew that if I didn’t get out of here in time to warn the team that was probably even now on its way to rescue us… Someone was going to die. That might seem pessimistic, but to anyone else who’d shared my prison, it would not come as a surprise.

Elayara’s human experiments had succeeded only five times. There was Ari, Logan, and me, and one of the five died before we escaped.

And then there was Ethan.

I was the first success, and for a time after I somehow absorbed and retained fae magic, Elayara’s research focused on testing me. Training me. Trying to figure out what went right so it could be duplicated. My other powers came later. After Ethan.

He was a little younger than me, and by the time I met him, much of his mind—along with the ability to control his magic—was already gone. In an attempt to build herself the ultimate elemental warrior, Elayara had given him all four elements at once, and it had utterly destroyed him.

But it had also made him nearly unstoppable.

Even Elayara had no way of controlling him, so she kept him partially sedated at all times. It was Ethan who had provided a huge percentage of her stockpile of elemental artifacts—driven by the need to continuously siphon his magic to keep him stable.

When we escaped, leaving him behind was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. He hadn’t deserved this any more than we did, and his day-to-day existence was a living torment I could not even begin to imagine.

But in the end, trying to break him out would likely have gotten us caught, and afterwards, I had no idea how to keep him safe—let alone how to keep the world safe from him. I’d been desperate and scared and so I’d just left him, and that decision haunted me. Probably always would.

My heart sped up for a moment as I heard light footsteps outside the room, pausing briefly on the other side of my door before continuing on. The sound of the steps suggested wooden floors, with an occasional creak and groan that further suggested age. More proof that my hypothesis was very likely correct.

Judging by the size and shape of the room, I was probably in one of the second-floor bedrooms. Maybe they hadn’t bothered to secure the window—if there was one. So if I could only get out of these manacles…

It was too dark to see, so I rotated my wrists in opposite directions as far as I could, until I could feel the shape and texture of my bonds… zip ties! This kidnapping was clearly the work of amateurs, which meant I still had a chance.

I rolled back to my side before wriggling onto my knees. After using my teeth to tighten the zip tie as much as possible, I raised my hands as high as I could, then pulled them down quickly, elbows flared, essentially punching myself in the stomach.

Not hard enough. The tie cut deep, almost drawing a gasp of pain, but I bit my lip and tried again. This time, it popped, leaving my hands blessedly free.

The tie on my ankles, thankfully, involved a much less painful process. All I needed to shim the mechanism was one of the lock picks hidden behind my belt, and the tail pulled loose without effort.

Still trying to make as little noise as possible, I sat back and began to swing my arms and rotate my ankles, hoping to restore blood flow to my hands and feet. Once I was confident my legs would hold me, I rose to my feet, listened for footsteps, and then moved towards the side of the room opposite the door.

I could just barely make out the outline of where a window would be, but as I felt around the sides, it became clear that it was not dark due to nighttime or blackout curtains, but boards. There would be no escaping this way—at least not quietly.

How much time did I have? It depended on how long it had taken my team to realize I was missing. And once they did, how much time they spent looking for me, versus making a move to rescue Kes and Logan.

I couldn’t count on them figuring out that I’d been taken by the same people. Nor could I count on them continuing the operation without me. But if they did, they might well end up dividing their forces, which would mean even more danger for whoever ended up here—facing Ethan, with no concept of what his magic was capable of.

Not to mention whatever he might do to the two innocent and unsuspecting human ghost hunters.

I was going to have to take some crazy chances and try to find my way out of this ramshackle Victorian fun-house without being caught.

First, the door. One ear to the cold floor confirmed no movement in my immediate vicinity. It was possible the door was guarded, which would mean my escape attempt could get quite a bit more exciting very quickly. But there was no way forward that didn’t involve risk, so I set my fingers to the doorknob and twisted.

It opened.

No point locking the door on a prisoner who’s both unconscious and tied up, I suppose.

When no one responded to the light creak of the opening door, I edged closer, set my back against the wall, and peered out.

The hallway was narrow and low-ceilinged, brightened only by some sort of lantern hanging from an antique brass fixture. The walls were covered in peeling, dark paper in a floral design that was probably popular seventy or eighty years ago. I could see two other doors, both closed, and what looked like an elaborately carved newel post at the top of a set of stairs leading to a dimly lit first floor.

And honestly, even though I’d never believed in ghosts, for a moment I almost would have believed it if someone had told me this place was haunted. It wore its age with a sort of dingy, fragile dignity, and I could smell the musty odor of decay from its long years of emptiness.

But I really needed to leave that kind of reflection to Seamus. Hopefully, he would get a chance to geek out about the house after we were all safe.

For now, I needed to decide whether to go up or down. The top floor of the Haversmith House was supposedly an actual ballroom, which would make it an unlikely place to keep prisoners. But it might offer excellent roof access, if by chance they’d forgotten to board up a window or two. From there, I was confident I could find a way to climb down, unless they’d posted a guard outside. But if that were the case, all of my attempts at secrecy were doomed to fail anyway.

There was only one way to find out.

Well, actually, there were several. I could run down the stairs—counting on the element of surprise to give me an advantage—and attempt to run straight out the front door. Assuming I didn’t manage to get lost while looking for it.

I could also start hunting the occupants of the house one by one, neutralizing my enemies and looking for Kes along the way. Hoping I could find her and Logan before I got caught. Praying Logan would be awake and could get out on his own feet, after which we would escape together.

Or, I could escape on my own first. Hope to meet up with Callum, Shane, and Rath, and enact our original plan.

If it had only been Kes and me, I probably would have tried plan two. But there was no way we could take Logan with us if he was still sedated, and I refused to leave him behind.

As much as I hated it, plan three was our best chance.

I would have to start by going up, but first, I needed to give myself as many advantages as possible. Which meant… recalling every one of the unwanted skills my time among the fae had taught me.

I hadn’t had a reason to practice in a long time, but those skills had saved my life in the tunnels of my subterranean prison, and I didn’t think I would ever forget how to use them.

How to dampen sound and smother light. How to pass unseen and unheard, because if I failed, my enemies would catch me and hurt me.

There were drawbacks, of course. If I tried using these magics anywhere well lit, it would be immediately obvious. But if I clung to the darkest parts of the house, my magic should easily pass unnoticed.

It was surprisingly difficult to step into that hallway. To recognize that this was so much like the tunnels, but with more than my own life at stake. I felt the familiar, sick ache of fear, and the rush of adrenaline that made my pulse loud in my own ears—so loud I was sure that anyone sharing the house with me could sense it. But somehow, I pushed myself through that first step, anchored myself in darkness, and then I was on my way. Down the hall, one cautious step at a time, searching for the stairs leading upward.

There was still no sound from the first floor, and it worried me a little. There should be at least five Idrians in the house somewhere, plus Ethan, Kes, and Logan. And they’d just kidnapped someone. Surely they hadn’t just gone straight to bed and decided to deal with me in the morning.

It was rather like when Ari was suddenly far too quiet, and I knew she’d either gotten up to something nefarious or teleported somewhere outside the house.

Wait… Could the house actually be empty? Could they have left me here and taken Kes and Logan elsewhere?

No. That would make no sense. There had to be another explanation.

There, in the shadows… Another newel post. This stairway led up into darkness, and I knew as I looked at the worn wood of the steps that they were likely to creak loudly. Would my magic even work on them?

Heart in my throat, feeling my way upward, I followed the tight corners of the stairwell until they ended in a space I could feel more than see. There was still very little light and no sound, so I allowed my magical darkness to lift and created fae light instead.

Lifting the tiny blue ball of magic over my head, I surveyed the room, noting copious evidence of the depredations of squatters and vandals. Empty bottles and cans lurked in corners. Graffiti marked the floor and the walls. Piles of discarded boxes tilted dangerously, allowing random detritus to spill out, while the smell of must and despair filled my nostrils.

But even so, beneath the squalor were the tattered remnants of a far different time, and the bones of an elegant space that had once been filled with lights and music and fun instead of cobwebs, dust, and ghosts. Beautiful crown molding edged the ceiling, and a massive fireplace with a stone hearth loomed on one side of the room. The remains of a brass light fixture still hung from the center of the ceiling, and I could easily imagine it strung with strands of crystal that reflected whatever lamps or candles may have brightened this place.

And windows. Glorious windows. Two had blankets tacked over them, one was still boarded up, but the other was cracked and half broken out, allowing a faint night breeze to stir the cobwebs and swirl the dust on the floor.

Perfect.

Thankfully, I’d never been scared of heights, so I didn’t even pause before squeezing through the hole in the glass and stepping out onto the gentle grade of the roof. If I wasn’t mistaken, I should be standing right over the second-floor balcony at the front of the house—an easy drop, provided no one was watching the balcony. From there, I could almost circle the entire house and choose the best place to swing down to the porch.

But as I crouched there, shivering slightly in the night breeze and listening for voices, footsteps, slamming doors or any other sign of human habitation, I heard the unmistakable sound of a car approaching from the main road.

According to the satellite photos Seamus had shown us, the house rested on a thirty-acre plot of mostly uncleared brush and woodlands. A dry creek bed ran through the property, and the house itself sat in a clearing approximately a hundred yards across, surrounded by trees and accessed by a long dirt driveway running off the main road.

Much of the driveway would be obscured by the trees, even in daylight, but by night I should be able to track any approaching vehicle by their headlights. This car, however, was clearly attempting to be stealthy, because its headlights were off. And there were already two vehicles parked in front of the house—the pickup they’d used when they abducted me, and a small, dark sedan.

This must be my people coming to rescue me.

I let out a long breath and slumped against the gable, taking a moment to change my plans now that I knew I wasn’t alone. I still needed to warn them about Ethan before they just charged in and started slinging magic around, but at least they were here .

Scooting to the edge of the roof, I rolled over and searched for a grip so I could swing my feet around and drop down to the second level. But before I could find purchase, I heard an odd scuffing sound. A thud from inside the third-floor ballroom. And then a tiny voice whispering my name.

“Rainey?”

No. I could not be hearing Ari’s voice. She was miles away. Safe. Asleep. Under the care of Kira and Hugh.

“Rainey!”

Except she wasn’t. She was leaning out the broken window, looking scared but also just a little bit smug.

“I found you!”

I forgot about silence. Forgot about everything except getting her to safety. I scrambled up from the edge of the roof and leaped back in through the window, clapping one hand over her mouth to quiet her exuberant celebrations.

“Ari-bug, you have to hush,” I whispered, checking my magic and hoping that it would miraculously obscure the sound of a six-year-old bouncing up and down with delight on the creaky wooden floor. “What are you doing here? Why did you leave Kira?”

Her glare was equal amounts hurt and offended. “They couldn’t find you. I told them I could, and they didn’t believe me.”

Wait…

“So Kira and Faris and Callum don’t know where I am?”

She shook her head, her tangled dark curls bouncing wildly. “Faris is sooooo mad,” she announced in a stage whisper.

I had no doubt of that. But if they didn’t know where I was, then who was driving towards the house in the middle of the night with their headlights off?

The back of my neck prickled with warning—my hunch magic trying to tell me something—and I knelt down in front of Ari.

“You have to go back, love. Go find Kira and tell her I’m with Kes. And tell them…” I hesitated. They needed to know what they faced. How dangerous Ethan could be. But what message could I ask Ari to relay?

“Tell them the trap is a person. Can you remember that?”

Her head turned to one side, and she nodded thoughtfully. “I think so.”

“Tell them to be careful. And…” A million other possible messages flew through my head, but none seemed likely to be helpful. “That’s it,” I whispered finally. “Just those two things, okay?”

She leaned forward and threw her arms around my neck. “Okay, Rainey. Don’t die.”

I had no plans to die today. I had Kes and Logan to rescue.

“I won’t, Bug.” I hugged her back. “Now go!”

She stepped back, and an instant later, she was gone.

Leaving me alone once more, with enemies approaching, and the grim knowledge that my help might not arrive in time.