As if it wasn’t always illegal to kill and eat people. I grimaced, remembering my first and only encounter with Ezra three weeks ago. It was his voice that had set me on edge. When he’d spoken, the sound had seemed to bypass my ears and vibrate directly through my bones. I’d watched with growing unease as everyone, including the men, had practically melted listening to him.
Me:Humor me. Text the code word in 2 hours?
Our safety system—a random word we changed weekly that meant “I’m safe” when texted unprompted. This week it was “sunshine.”
Twyla:Fine, MOM. But only becuz u’d just worry urself sick otherwise.
Twyla:BTW how are things with Mr. Tall, Dangerous & Sexy? Have you admitted he’s your BOYFRIEND yet???
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t suppress a smile.
Alex:Focus on your own love life. I’ll let you know if there’s anything to tell.
Twyla:There already IS and you know it! K gotta go beautify. TTYL XOXO.
I was still scowling at my phone, half-amused and half-worried, when the hair on the back of my neck stood up. The street around me felt too quiet. Something in my gut—the same instinct that had kept me alive on the streets—screamed danger.
I turned, groceries clutched against my chest, just as something heavy and dark dropped over my head. Rough fabric scraped my face, smelling of dust and chemicals. My glamour flared, but whoeverhad me wasn’t human enough to be affected. Strong hands yanked my arms behind my back, the grocery bags tumbling to the sidewalk. Food scattered across concrete as something bound my wrists.
“What the—” My protest was cut short by a hard blow to my stomach that knocked the wind from my lungs. The pain blossomed, radiating outward as I doubled over. I tried to kick out, to fight back, but whoever had me was fast. My foot connected with something solid, earning me a grunt of pain, but the victory was short-lived.
“Shut up,” a gravelly voice hissed near my ear, breath hot through the fabric covering my head. “One sound and we slit your throat right here.”
The blade pressed against my neck felt cold, the edge sharp enough that even the slightest pressure drew a thin line of warmth that trickled down my collarbone. They weren’t bluffing.
I heard a car trunk open, the hydraulics hissing as the lid raised. Panic surged through me as I was manhandled toward it. I thrashed, fighting despite the knife. This would be my last chance before they got me somewhere private. Somewhere no one would hear me scream.
“Hold still, you little shit,” a second voice growled, this one deeper, with the distinctive rumble of the Madam’s granite-skinned enforcer. His fist connected with my temple, and stars burst behind my eyelids. The world tilted as I was shoved into the trunk, my head cracking against something hard on the way in.
“The Madam sends her regards,” the first voice sneered. “Your boyfriend’s not around to save you this time, pretty boy.”
The trunk slammed shut, plunging me into darkness. The silence was broken only by my ragged breathing and the engine roaring to life. As the car lurched forward, all I could think about was Kronos coming home to an empty apartment, the dinner I’d planned to make scattered on some sidewalk, and the terrifying certainty that the Madam had decided I was too much trouble to keep alive.
Chapter Sixteen
Promise
The darkness in the trunk was absolute, broken only by the occasional flash of light through seams when we passed street lamps. Every bump in the road sent fresh waves of pain through my ribs. I struggled against the thick rope binding my wrists, the coarse fibers rubbing my skin raw until something warm trickled down my palms.
I’d been in the trunk for what felt like hours, drifting in and out of consciousness. A vibration against my hip jolted me alert.My phone. It was still in my back pocket—I could feel it. Another vibration. Someone was texting me.
With effort, I twisted my body, ignoring the stabbing pain in my side. If I could just reach it... After several agonizing attempts, I contorted enough that my bound hands could graze the edge of my pocket. The phone vibrated again.
I strained further, fingertips catching the fabric. My fingers, already slick with blood or sweat, fumbled with the pocket. When I worked the phone free, it slipped from my hands, clattering somewhere in the trunk’s darkness.
“Mierda,” I hissed, panic rising as I frantically felt around the confined space. “Vamos. Vamos…”My shoulders screamed in protest as I stretched, fingers sweeping across the rough carpet lining.
The car hit another pothole, sending the phone sliding against my leg. I trapped it against the floor with my knee, then maneuvered until I could grasp it between my palms.
With trembling hands, I managed to wake the screen. The light was blinding in the darkness, but I squinted through the pain. Unlocking it blind was almost impossible with bound hands. It took three tries before I felt the vibration confirming success. I knew Kronos’s contact was the first in my favorites list—one swipe, then tap. I couldn’t see if the call connected.
“Kronos,” I whispered, unsure if he could hear me over the road noise. “Trunk. Madam. Help.” I tried to give more details, but the car turned sharply and the phone slipped from my fingers.
I cursed, desperately trying to find it again in the darkness. The car hit another pothole, and my head slammed against the trunk lid. Stars burst behind my eyelids, and for a moment, everything went fuzzy.
By the time I regained my senses, the car was slowing. Gravel crunched beneath the tires, the surface change vibrating through the metal frame. We were off the main roads then. My fingers found the phone again, but there was no way to know if my message had gotten through.
The engine died. Car doors opened and slammed shut. Heavy footsteps approached the trunk, and my heart hammered painfully against my bruised ribs. I pressed what I hoped was SEND on a final text before light flooded the compartment.
