Allegiance(59)

“Excuse me,” I said politely. But she didn’t move. She didn’t blink. Her blue-gray eyes remained frozen on me, a dangerous glint in them. A flicker of wariness sparked inside me. She was concentrating—I could tell that much—though on what, I had no idea. I watched her eyebrow rise with a flash of surprise. It quickly gave way to a grim scowl of determination and two viselike grips on my biceps.

“Evangeline!” Amelie shrieked from within the stall. “I can’t move my arms or legs! There must be a witch nearby. Run!”

Too late. That’s what she was. That look … I knew that look. It was the look of magic. She had tried to spell me and she couldn’t because of the Tribe’s curse … A brawny hand flew to my jaw and squeezed so tightly that I couldn’t answer Amelie, couldn’t utter a sound. One arm hooked around mine in a painful lock and the woman started dragging me toward the front of the store with surprising strength. Out, away from Amelie, away from safety.

I fought back, twisting and turning my body, swinging my legs out from under me to target her shins. I dug my nails into her flesh, eliciting a howl of pain from her but still she marched on. I leaned in to bite at her hands, managing to grab hold of her index finger with my front teeth, a coppery taste filling my mouth. She let out a yelp but continued. I was like a rabid raccoon and yet I couldn’t break free of her remarkable grasp, no matter what I did. I knew it wasn’t magic that did it and it surely wasn’t her size, given she only had a few inches and about thirty pounds on me. It had to be a combination of raw hatred and grim determination.

It was obvious I wasn’t a willing participant in this excursion and yet, as I passed the two ladies tending to the store and the other shoppers there—all watching the scene unfold—none did anything to help. Even with Amelie’s shrill screaming from the back, they stood like frozen deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to do. For all I knew, they were influenced by magic. Everyone could be. Everyone except me.

Desperate, I allowed my knees to buckle. My body flopped to the ground. The witch responded with a guttural curse. With one hand still on my jaw, she grabbed a fistful of my hair with her other hand and began hauling me out. Pain exploded in my scalp. I knew she’d keep moving, even with chunks of my scalp falling out, and so I was forced to scramble to my feet and follow. She stormed through the glass entrance door with me in tow, into the frigid cold and the busy street.

Dozens of pedestrians stopped to watch, a mixture of alarm and curiosity on their faces. The witch released my jaw as she tugged me forward along the cold, icy ground, moving with purpose. I soon saw that purpose was a large white van with no windows and the back door wide open.

This was an abduction.

If I went into that van, I was as good as dead. Now was my chance. Someone had to help me. Someone had to do something.

I opened my mouth to let loose a blood-curdling scream a second before a giant male hand clamped over my mouth and grabbed hold of my arms. I kicked and thrashed wildly but this man was at least six foot three and two hundred and fifty pounds. It was useless. They had me.

“Not a breeze, but easier than I expected,” the witch mused, pulling out a tissue to stop the trickle of blood from her hand.

Everything was happening so quickly. In seconds we reached the back of the van and a second set of large male hands with a telling tattoo grabbed hold of my wrists. He yanked me into the van and tossed me onto the dirty van floor. Cradling my stitched arm against my chest to protect it, I counted six dark-clothed goons sitting over me. If I could just get out ... Maybe I could break free …

We were thrown into dim light as the back door slammed shut. With a bang on the outside, I heard the woman shout, “Go!” The van lurched forward.

The enemy had me.

Without firm fingers gripping my jaw, I could scream. And scream I did. At the top of my lungs, I screamed. I screamed for Sofie, for Amelie, for Caden, for Max, even for Mortimer. For all of them. But it was no use. None of them would hear me in this moving van, surrounded by these hulking men. If only I had stayed at the chateau. What were we thinking?

I scrambled to my knees, determined to get myself out of this disaster. If I could just get to the driver to stop the van, maybe Amelie could catch up … I leapt forward, clawing at the closest man’s face. My nails connected, raking his cheek and his left eye, drawing blood. He howled in pain as his hand flew to his face. I dove in, intent on pushing past him to reach the driver. I almost made it. Almost. A swift elbow out of nowhere connected with my lower jaw, stopping my momentum. Pain exploded on the entire left side of my head as I crumbled to the floor once again, the metallic taste of blood coating my tongue.