My heart iced over. I'd endangered Ms. Custer. The small closet closed in on me and I struggled for air, praying they would leave the kitchen so I could escape this cloying space.
The kitchen door swung and their voices receded into the hall. I turned the handle, inching it open as silently as possible, and stepped out into the empty kitchen.
All clear.
I pulled the back door open and snuck out, keeping an ear out for Aidan's goons, so afraid they'd heard me and would have me surrounded in the next second. My heart thudded as I crept around the corner.
During my sojourn in the broom closet, the sky had darkened, and shadows had taken control of the streets. I rounded the corner of the house to observe them as they left. Only then would I reenter the house.
Worthington and another man—Martinez, I presumed—left the porch. Aidan followed, a dejected slope to his shoulders. He turned and stared at the house, at my room's window, his face filled with sadness and longing. As he stepped into the dark car he scanned the garden and looked in my direction.
He couldn't see me where I crouched, encased in shadows. A violent longing stirred inside me, filling my eyes with heated tears, spicing my blood with need, spurring me to step forward.
What was I going to do? I wasn't exactly sure. Maybe all I wanted was for Aidan to know I was safe and well.
I never found out.
I took a step toward Aidan, but made it no further.
A sudden gust of wind buffeted me.
The rough breeze whipped around me, throwing my hair into my face and away again. My nostrils flared as a spike of ozone assaulted my senses. A tiny tornado threatened to consume me and I flailed, then fell forward, shoved by the wild momentum of the rushing air.
My muscles tingled, twisted as if pulled through the wash cycle from hell. My vision blurred and Aidan and his thugs were smudges across the yard.
Then a strong arm grabbed me around my waist and someone spoke in my ear. The last thing I heard was, "You do not want to do that. We have to go. Now!"
Chapter 14
I came to with a soft groan, taking stock quietly. Whoever had shoved me to the ground hadn't intended to hurt me. My body, and all its parts, seemed to be in good working order, though my heart still thumped, wild as a cornered bear. What had just happened? Who had knocked me unconscious? And who did that voice belong to?
It had to be Aidan and his goons who'd taken me down. Maybe they'd shot me with some kind of FBI dart-weapon thing and I was now locked away in a cell in a dark basement, at a secret location, awaiting my death. But that didn't make any sense. They'd made it clear they wanted to kill me. From the way they'd spoken, they would've been happy to shoot me on sight.
Aidan must have stepped up and convinced them to keep me alive. Even so, I wouldn't be the most grateful captive. This entire, awful mess was all his damned fault. I was still reeling from the shock of his presence in our house, still mad at the way that Worthington thug had pushed poor Ms. Custer around. And she was not the "poor Ms. Custer" type. She'd put up a fight at any rate. Protected me. Lied for me. Told me with her actions and her eyes to leave. Run. Hide. I blinked back tears, so grateful to my foster mom. I had to thank her. As soon as I got some feeling back into my limp muscles.
With any luck, I'd fainted and was still lying in the garden, tucked away beneath the dead hydrangeas at the corner of the house. I focused my thoughts, listening. No trees whispered, no wind blew. No icy breeze scraped my cheek, no cold hard ground lay beneath my warm body.
Instead, soft, luxurious fur caressed my skin. A fire crackled happily nearby, spitting occasional sparks, its cozy warmth toasted my cheeks. I cracked open an eye, confirmed I was alone, then sat up slowly.
Groaning again, I placed my hand on the spinning top attached to my neck that masqueraded as my head. I waited until it stopped its hurdy-gurdy motion and swallowed hard. Bile coated the back of my tongue, though I couldn't recall throwing up. I held on to my stomach, moaned, then gasped.
A soft white fabric covered my midriff, along with the rest of my torso. The garment reminded me of my peasant blouse hanging in my closet at Ms. Custer's house. The dress, long enough to reach my ankles, fell in soft, silky gathers.
My heart thundered in my chest. Then I shivered. I'd been undressed while I was unconscious. I probed my hip and gave a shuddering sigh. I still wore my underwear, thank heaven, but my bra had disappeared along with my jeans, polo, jacket and scarf. Not that I needed warm clothes right now.
Fear swam through me as I grabbed at my neck. Then I relaxed a bit. My amber pendant remained tied around my neck. At least they hadn't taken it.
I sat still, disinclined to test the steadiness of my legs, just happy to be conscious. Awake so strangers couldn't dress and undress me without my consent. My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I scanned the strange room. Walls of unpainted pine surrounded a space as large as my room at Ms. Custer's house. Above my head were bare log-beams lacing their way across a high stud ceiling.
The fire crackled and I studied the open stone fireplace. The darned thing was large enough to roast a whole person in. I changed track, refusing to follow that train of thought.
I decided to try opening the door, and if it opened, finding a way out of here. Pushing away the thick fur covers, I rose to my feet, testing each limb one at a time.
I'd made it halfway to the door when it opened and a girl walked in. I froze, staring straight into a pair of clear grey eyes. Eyes a perfect match to the silvery-grey wings rising behind her shoulders. Wings that drew my memory back to Aidan's book and Brunhilde, the Valkyrie. The grey-eyed girl's bronzed chainmail armor, her confident posture, all said that she was the one thing I knew was downright impossible.
A Valkyrie.
I couldn't decide if I was astonished or horrified. Even the possible horror of my creation in a petri dish hadn't floored me the way this dark-haired, winged girl did. Her beauty, grace and power left me dumbstruck. Held me in a trance.
"I see you are awake. I was beginning to worry." Her voice was a honeyed wine, soothing and tender.
I clamped my mouth shut and frowned.
She said, "The first time can be hard on the body."
"First time?" I wondered if she was talking about my fall. But she didn't enlighten me any further. And her next words made no sense.
"The . . . what would you call it?" She thought for a while. "Ah, yes, teleportation."
Teleportation? Are you serious?
I stared at her, annoyed and angry. "What do you want with me?"
She tucked a stray ebony lock of hair behind her ear, and the firelight glinted on the band at her wrist. A dainty filigree clasp locked the hinged band in place while intricate triple swirls snaked across the face of the dull gold-edged silver.
"You are special," she said. "I was told where to find you and instructed to bring you here. Safely. I am sorry if I scared you, but I did not want you to get hurt. Those men would have hurt you."
"Not all of them," I blurted out. I managed to defend Aidan despite the distraction of the entrancing bracelet, but deep down I sensed I didn't entirely believe that. Would he have hurt me if he'd been forced to?
And suddenly my knees shook, threatening to fold and take me straight to the ground. She grabbed hold of me, helped me move closer to the bed and waited while I sank onto the blankets. Satisfied, she perched at the foot of the bed. "You were in very grave danger. It was my job to bring you here safely. I had to wait outside the house while those men talked and talked. I was glad when you finally left the house." She grinned.
Did she really expect me to believe such nonsense? She'd just admitted she'd abducted me. I figured I'd play along for now. "What do you want with me? Why have you brought me here? And where exactly is here?"
Her bright grey eyes sparkled as she laughed, little pink spots appearing on her cheekbones. "Oh, you are going to be fun. That is good. You will pull through faster than some of the other new ones."
"Pull through what?" My heart kicked in my chest.
Just a horrible hallucination, Bryn. Nothing to worry about. Probably just a side effect of some newfangled drug meant to force the victim into a state of total delusion.
Or was my mind rebelling and turning against me?
"Never mind that for now. Shall we get you ready? You will find out in a few minutes anyway, and besides, I do not have permission to spoil the surprise." She winked, then rose and walked to a bench beside the fire, bringing with her an armful of bronzed chainmail similar to her own. "Come, you have to dress. We must not keep them waiting."
She spread the armor open. It was fashioned into a single coat-like garment, which opened at the back. Odd, but I said nothing, merely poked my hands through the arms, waiting as she pulled and tugged at straps and buckles behind me.
I glanced at the door, longing to make a run for it, but the armor was deceptively heavy and I wasn't confident I would be quick on my feet. And my captor seemed too strong to knock out in one blow. Ropy muscles knotted her upper arms, and sinewy calves peeped from slits in the hem of her dress. I didn't stand a chance.
I craned my head to get a view of the back of the armor. My back was bare from neck to waist. Strange.
"Come now. We have to hurry." She rushed me with both her command and the urgency of her tone.
A trickle of fear ran through me. Was I about to follow her to my death in some sort of arena? Or maybe a crazy gladiator fight-to-the-death reality show? Everything was too surreal yet a traitorous part of my consciousness screamed it was real. I should really find out more about this place if I was going to try to get the hell out of here.