Page 144

L uc had waited outside Adric’s den most of the night. He’d noted Rosana’s scent, of course. Fresh, as if she’d been there recently.

His mouth flattened. First Lewes, now Baltimore. Adric had finally gotten lucky.

Luc had never approved of his friend’s obsession with the do Rio female. Adric was the alpha; he should know better. Earth and water fada didn’t mix. Adric could never mate with the woman, and fucking her was asking for trouble. Dion would love an excuse to come down hard on Adric and the clan.

The rain changed to a wet snow. It clung to Luc’s hair, melted on his face. His pants were soaked through, his feet blocks of ice in his boots. He started to shiver but didn’t shift to his wolf.

He’d need his hands for what came next.

Still, snow was good. It would cover his scent.

He stationed himself upwind anyway. No one knew better than one of Adric’s former lieutenants how sharp the alpha’s senses were.

Dawn came late in January. The sun was just a glimmer on the horizon when Adric emerged from his den, a duffel bag in hand. He sniffed, glanced around.

On the opposite side of the house, Luc plastered his back to the bricks. Inside, the part of him that Blaer could never touch implored his alpha: See me. Kill me.

Death was preferable to being enslaved to a fae.

But his friend seemed distracted. Getting his motorcycle from the shed, he donned his helmet, shoved the duffel bag into a saddle bag and pushed the bike down the snow-covered driveway.

The geas pulled at Luc. “Bring Adric Savonett to me.”

No. He resisted Blaer’s order, shaking and sweating like a goddamn addict needing a fix.

Blaer would be furious, especially since it was at his suggestion they’d gone to Rock Run first. “Adric will take the river fada straight home,” he’d told her. “We can capture him there.”

But of course, Adric had never showed—which was what Luc had been counting on. Disgusted, Blaer had left Luc the car and ’ported herself and Jon back to their hotel, with instructions for him to meet her in Virginia—with Adric.

If he didn’t return with the alpha, Blaer would want to know why. And she had ways to drag the truth from him.

Then the woman came out—a river fada.

Luc did a doubletake. But yeah, it was Rosana do Rio, with Adric’s scent all over her. Not hard to guess what the two of them had been doing last night.

Even though he’d known she’d visited recently, he was shocked that the alpha had taken a river fada into his den—the same den that was a closely guarded secret from most of Adric’s own clan.

The man was in deep. Way deeper than Luc had realized.

He eyed Rosana. A river fada, and the Rock Run alpha’s sister. For Blaer’s purposes, Rosana do Rio was just as good as Adric. In fact, she might even be better.

And Adric would be safe.

His gaze swung to the do Rio female. Better her than his friend.

Luc might no longer be a member of the Baltimore clan, but Adric would always have his loyalty.

The man had rescued him from a living hell.

That year Luc had been Leron’s prisoner, he’d been tortured by not only Leron and his lieutenants, but his night-fae allies.

He’d barely escaped with his sanity intact.

On the other side of the house, Adric started his bike. Luc took a step toward the street, the geas dragging at him.

No.

Crouching down, he dug his fingers into his scalp and resisted with everything he had until the motorcycle’s engine faded into the other city sounds.

Behind him, Rosana was still in Adric’s backyard. Apparently, her transportation was locked in Adric’s shed.

He rose to his feet.

A female , argued his conscience. A young, innocent female.

Slapping it down like an irritating fly, he loped soundlessly across the lawn—and pounced.

Rosana groaned.

Her throat hurt , both inside and out.

She moved her hand to touch it, and then jolted when she realized her wrists were bound together in front of her. She popped her eyes open.

She was in the backseat of a car. A moving car.

She swung her feet to the floor and struggled upright.

Fuck. Her ankles were bound, too.

The world swung queasily around her. Bile coated the back of her sore throat. She squeezed her eyelids shut and tried not to vomit.

When the world righted itself, a long-limbed, dark-skinned man was regarding her in the rearview mirror with fierce gold eyes. A leather jacket and hoodie lay on the seat beside him, leaving him in a maroon T-shirt that exposed lean, ropey muscles—and the chunk of quartz hanging from his neck.

“Who are you?” The question came out as a rasp. She swallowed and tried again. “And where the fuck are you taking me?”

“There’s water in the pocket in front of you,” he replied, ignoring her questions.

She threw a wild-eyed glance around her. They were on a highway she didn’t recognize, and according to the dashboard clock, it was a little after nine a.m., which meant she’d been out a couple of hours.

They could be almost anywhere, and she was trussed up like a pig on a spit.

Her lungs seized. Drawing up her knees, she slammed her bare heels into the back of his seat.

“I want to know what’s going on. Now .”

A rough growl. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Do you know wh—?” She clamped her mouth shut. She’d been about to threaten him with Dion, but if the earth fada didn’t know who she was, it might be smarter to keep it that way.

She surreptitiously tested her bonds, but the rope was bespelled. The more she struggled to get free, the tighter it got, biting painfully into her wrists and ankles until she gave up, exhausted. Bile burned her throat again.

Water.

She worked the bottle from the seat pocket with her bound hands, awkwardly removing the cap and bringing it to her mouth.

Her throat felt too swollen to swallow. But she craved fluids. Water fada needed hydration more than other species.

She took a small, painful sip. The cool water slid down her throat. She took a few more careful sips before returning the bottle to the seat pocket.

Now that she was calmer, her internal GPS told her they were heading south, with the Chesapeake Bay ten or twenty miles to her left.

So they were on their way to southern Maryland, or possibly Virginia.

Not on I-95, though—this was a narrower highway with only two lanes in each direction.

They passed through a small town and she tested the door, but her captor had removed the inside handles.

If only Adric would ride up on that black motorcycle of his… But he’d been gone before the earth fada had attacked her—or had he?

Her fingers curled into her palms. For a breath-stealing instant, she wondered if Adric was behind this.

No. He might be a hard, take-no-crap kind of guy, but he’d always been straight with her. He wouldn’t kidnap her in this underhanded way.

Hell, he’d left her sleeping in his bed, which hurt, big time. Still, it wasn’t the action of a man who intended to kidnap her.

She inhaled slowly, sifting the air for the driver’s scent. Definitely an earth fada, but his scent had an unusual overlay of silver, like he was mated to a fae…or under a fae’s power.

Fear scrabbled up her spine. She gripped her hands in her lap.

Nobody knew where she was. That note she’d left for Dion and Cleia? All she’d said was that she was going to Baltimore to be with Adric, and that they shouldn’t worry about her.

She glanced at her left wrist and groaned. Cleia’s protection charm was in the pocket of the jeans that she’d shoved into the backpack along with her boots and other clothes.

The backpack she’d dropped outside the shed.

She briefly closed her eyes, and then opened them to kick the backseat again. “Your alpha won’t like this,” she snarled. “I was in his den with his permission.”

The driver’s jaw worked. The pungent scent of anger filled the small space.

“He’s not my alpha—not anymore. And some river fada bitch doesn’t belong in his den anyway.” His mouth turned down contemptuously. “Especially the Rock Run alpha’s sister.”

So he did know who she was.

She frowned. “You’re not a Baltimore fada?”

“I am. But—” His fingers clenched on the steering wheel. He shot her a single, burning look in the rearview mirror and then shook his head, tight-lipped.

“Cleia won’t like this, either.” She spoke the sun fae’s name clearly and distinctly. “If you know who I am, then you know Queen Cleia is my brother’s mate.”

They were out in the countryside again, with farmland on either side of them. The earth fada swerved onto the grassy berm, slammed on the brakes. “Don’t say her name.”

She lifted her chin. “Cleia! Help!”

“Shut the fuck up.” He lunged over the seat, catching her jaw in powerful hands.

She glared back. “Cleia,” she said indistinctly from behind his covering palms.

“You want to play with me?” He shook her—hard. Her head snapped back and forth and her teeth clacked together. “I could break your neck right here.”

Her heart raced. He meant it.

But what did she have to lose?

Her preferred animal might be a dolphin, but river fada could shift to any river-based animal—and some of them had teeth and claws. Now she brought her bound hands up and sliced her claws down the inside of his arm. The metallic scent of blood filled the air.

His face hardened. “ Bitch .”

He surged the rest of the way into the backseat and flipped her onto her stomach. Pushing her face down into the vinyl, he shoved a knee into her spine between her shoulder blades. She was trapped, her hands caught beneath her chest, her nose and mouth squashed against the seat.

She couldn’t breathe. Spots swam before her eyes. She tried to buck him off, but he pressed her deeper into the seat.

Strong fingers closed around her bruised throat. A strange calm descended on her.

She was going to die. But at least she’d gone out fighting.

But as she started to black out, he lifted her enough to take a gulp of air—and then pressed her face down again.