Call of the Siren(67)

How would she survive it?

After rising to her feet with only the minimal nauseous response, she followed Dagan outside the bedroom. She stepped directly into a tiny living area, with nothing more than a battered old couch in front of a grimy fireplace, a small two-seater dinette in one corner, and an adjoining kitchen with a two-burner stove. Soft, crackling music played from a radio somewhere, the song classifying the station as one that played the “Oldies,” but there was no television in sight. This was a hunting cabin with nothing but the essentials.

“Clearly a bachelor’s paradise,” she murmured.

Dagan chuckled. “At least there’s electricity and water.”

That alone made it better than her old hovel back on Infernum, so she wasn’t about to complain.

“I’ll be right back.” With those words, she disappeared inside the door to the right of the bedroom. The bathroom was even tinier than the kitchen, but it contained a small tub with a shower, and the water was hot. She peeled off her sweaty clothes, tossing them in a corner until she could thoroughly wash them out, and hopped in the shower. The steamy water sluiced down her body, washing away the aches and grime of her drug-induced high. If only it would wash away the memories as well.

Thorne had betrayed her. He’d sold her to the dark fae like no more than a second-hand possession. The worst part about it was that she wasn’t even that surprised. After all, a man who could forget his own daughter’s name would have no qualms about using his former bond mate to get in tight with a powerful fae.

Any warm feelings she might have still retained for the demon were long gone, leaving just one certain fact: next time she saw him, he was dead meat.

After using a thick bar of soap to furiously scrub her hair and body clean, she let it all rinse away, taking the remnants of her headache along with her. Honestly, she didn’t feel too bad considering she’d been drugged—twice—with more score than any person should realistically do in a month. Of course, this was only the first of many lulls in her recovery period. Another painful lesson she’d learned long ago.

She stepped out of the shower and toweled off, but when she tried to slide on the sweatpants Dagan had left for her, she couldn’t get them to stay up no matter how tightly she knotted them. Finally she gave up. At least the oversize T-shirt fell down well past mid-thigh. It would have to do until she’d laundered and dried her own clothes.

Recognizing that she was stalling, unintentionally allowing her nerves about being alone with Dagan to slow her actions, she hurried to brush her teeth with an unused toothbrush she pilfered from inside the medicine cabinet and stepped outside.

Dagan paced the living room with a glass in one hand. Worry marred his brow, but he came to an abrupt stop when she entered the room. His eyes trailed over her body, then down her bare legs, flaring with heat. He averted his gaze and turned to grab a tumbler off the small dinette directly behind him. It was filled almost to the brim with a dark liquid.

“I thought you could use this. Not exactly black label stuff, but it was all I could find to drink around here.”

She accepted the tumbler gratefully. Anything that would help to take the edge off would be more than welcome at this point. Taking a swig, she made a sour face. No, the whiskey was definitely not the top shelf liquor she’d become accustomed to. More like the very, very bottom of the shelf. But she wasn’t about to complain about free liquor. Not now, not ever.

“Have you heard from Ronin or your other brothers?” she asked.

Dagan shook his head. “Not yet, but that’s no big surprise. I doubt they went straight to the cave. They’ll probably fly around for a bit to make sure they don’t have anyone tracking them.”

When she nodded, Dagan took a hesitant breath. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

Something else? Well, whatever it was, it was no doubt serious.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m all ears.”

He took a long swallow from his glass before meeting her gaze. “It’s about your ex, Thorne.”

Her heart clenched, but other than a momentary tightening of her fingers around the glass, she managed to hold her composure. “What about him?”

“I doubt you were lucid enough to remember what happened, so…”

After carefully setting his glass on the dinette directly behind him, Dagan turned back to her. “He came into your room when I was there trying to save you. He tried to stop me and…he’s dead.”

Dead?

Lina stared at Dagan in silence, allowing the full meaning of his words to penetrate deep in her mind. Thorne was dead?