Page 69 of The Forsaken Heir

“ Shit ,” Bastien said. “It’s the potion. Sometimes it kills the subject when it has run its course. I was going to call in a healer when I was done, but then you showed up. I forgot.”

“You seem to forget a lot, son of mine,” Gabrielle said. She put her head out the door. “Healers! Now!”

I opened my mouth, desperate to scream or cry out, but the pain was worse than anything before. Nothing had ever been so awful. It only took a few seconds for me to begin wishing for death.

The healers rushed in with syringes and vials of magical remedies, scurrying around me like ants on a freshly dead corpse.

“Make sure he lives,” Gabrielle said. “If he dies, you will all be held responsible.”

Gray fuzz crowded the periphery of my vision, tunneling until all I could make out were Bastien and Gabrielle’s shoes.

A moment before I passed out from the pain, I had one fleeting hope.

That this might earn me a small reprieve.

A little time to recover my strength and wits before they executed me.

I wanted to meet my end with my head held high, not as some feeble thing they had to drag out.

“Come on. Take a drink,” Elle said.

Eyes fluttering open, I found her kneeling above me. All the aches and pains in my body had vanished. Rather than hanging from the ceiling, I now lay on a soft, warm bed. She held a cup of water toward me. I sat up and drank greedily.

“Bro, you had us scared,” Rasp said from my right where he was bandaging a wound on my arm.

To my right, he was winding a gauze around some kind of wound on my arm.

“How did I get here? Where…”

“You’re at the castle,” Vince said and handed Rasp a roll of medical tape. “You’re safe now.”

I glanced around. “I am?”

“You are, boy,” Dad said. “You put a hell of a scare into us.”

Elle gave me another drink and ran her fingers through my hair. “It’s gonna be fine.”

My shoulders relaxed at her touch, and relief flooded through me.

“God damn he’s heavy,” Rasp said, still wrapping my arm.

“What?” I glanced at him.

“You need to be careful,” Vince said. “The healing isn’t done yet. Don’t hit his head.”

“The hell are you all talking about?”

Confusion made me dizzy. They were all acting strange.

“Tie the bag,” Dad said. “Make it look like it’s nothing but garbage.”

“Got it,” Rasp said.

“Jesus, he’s a heavy motherfucker,” Vince added, though he stood beside me, not holding anything.

“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is ? —”

“Shit, he’s awake. I thought you said he’d be out for hours.”

“Uh, I guess dragons are really fucking strong. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, we need to hurry. Help me.”

The voices, both male, were slightly muffled by the black crinkly plastic over my head.

The bag was also half filled with actual trash.

The nauseating reek of old tuna and the rancid smell of empty beer cans made me gag.

Crushed paper and plastic wrapping cushioned.

A few tiny air holes had been punched into the bag, but not big enough for me to get a look at anything outside.

I tried to speak, but my head was still too fuzzy, plus the disorientation of finding myself in such a strange predicament gave everything a surreal perspective.

I was hefted upward, the plastic stretching and smashing against my face. Breathing became difficult as the thick sheeting tried to seal my nose and mouth. I was too weak to fight against it.

What felt like two sets of arms cradled my massive body. Finally finding some semblance of strength, I pawed at the plastic, desperate to find an opening and get out of this suffocating and steaming hot enclosure.

“Aurelius, stop,” a voice hissed. “Let me help you. We can’t draw attention.”

Help? Someone was helping me?

“Someone’s coming,” the first voice said. “Freddy, get out of sight. Hurry.”

Freddy? Was this the plan?

“Got it,” Freddy’s familiar voice whispered.

I went limp and tried to listen to what was happening outside.

“What are you two doing?” a new voice said.

“Nothing special. Just taking out a load of trash,” the second of my possible rescuers said, sounding remarkably casual.

“Jesus H. Christ, that bag looks big enough to hold a fucking body. What are you taking out?”

The men holding me were silent for a beat, and it was at that moment of silence that I realized how much better I felt after the healers had worked on me. I wasn’t a hundred percent, but I was getting better by the moment.

“Very funny,” one of the men holding me said. “No, it’s from one of the break rooms in the basement actually . You security guys really know how to be pigs. Maybe we should let you haul it out?”

The security guard grumbled. “No need. We do most of the work around here. Fucking healers think that because you get to use magic all the time, you’re special. Taking some trash out actually sounds like a good job for you two. Have at it.”

“Thanks. Dick ,” the other man holding me said.

“Watch your mouth, nursemaid ,” the security guy said, and I heard the clomp of departing booted footsteps.

“Okay, he’s gone. Let’s move. Freddy, come on.”

“This way,” Freddy said.

I touched my chest. It was free of Dragon’s Blood resin, and my wrists and ankles weren’t bound anymore.

That alone was helping me recover. At the back of my mind, my dragon was stirring, reawakening.

He was pissed, and I had to force him to stand down.

He wanted me to shift and allow him to lay waste to the Laurent estate, but we couldn’t do that. Not yet at least.

The temperature suddenly changed, and I could only assume we were outside. I sighed in relief. I was away from that torture cell.

“In here,” Freddy said.

The clanking sound of a truck tailgate being lowered rattled through the quiet.

“Sorry about this, buddy,” one of the men said.

They swung me back and forth, and on the third swing, they hefted me into the truck.

I crashed into what felt and smelled like more garbage.

I retched at the stench of old grease, used tissues, spoiled food, and old coffee grounds.

It was nearly enough to send me back into unconsciousness.

A second after I landed, the door closed.

After a minute of silence, I risked clawing my way out of the bag, finally escaping the claustrophobic confines. I took a deep breath, and immediately regretted it. Gagging, I clamped a hand to my nose, but that didn’t help. It was like the stench had settled into my mucous membranes.

Toward the front of the truck, a small window slid aside, and Freddy’s face appeared in the gap. Behind him, through the windshield, the night sky was visible.

“Sorry about this,” Freddy said, nodding at the trash bags all around me. “It was the only way I knew to get you out unseen. The trash masks your scent. Smart, huh?”

I finished dragging myself from the bag. “You’re really rescuing me?”

I’d held out hope, but deep down I’d never really believed I’d get out alive, especially not with assistance from one of the Laurent family.

“Fingers crossed,” Freddy said. “Stay back there. If I start banging on the window, dig in under the trash.”

“Where are we going?—”

Freddy slid the small metal window shut again, leaving me in the putrid trash heap. Elation and the exhilaration of freedom overcame me. If things worked out, I might really get out of this alive. Not only that, but I’d have Elle in my arms again.