Holy crap.
I had to have fallen ten feet or more. The distance explained the deep, steady throb in my leg and my head. That kind of fall would’ve done serious damage to a human. Unclenching my mouth, I took a deep breath and about choked on the overwhelming scent of rich, wet soil. The icy pressure was still between my shoulders, and whatever I’d fallen into was unbelievably chilly, at least twenty or so degrees cooler.
Opening my eyes, I saw...nothing. Nothing but complete, utter darkness.
A seed of panic took root as I jerked upright and scurried backward until I rammed into something hard and solid. Nausea swept through me as a streak of pain lanced my temples.
Okay. Maybe I did some damage to myself.
“Shit,” I moaned, lifting a hand to my temple, realizing I was against a wall. I twisted at the waist, wincing as I reached out, placing my hand against the damp, slimy surface. A stone wall—a moldy, slimy stone wall.
What the Hell had I fallen into?
I strained to see anything, but there was only inky darkness. Was the place devoid of all light? Or was it my eyes? Had they taken this moment to give out on me? The seedling of panic unfurled. No. No. That was not how RP worked, and my skull was thick enough to protect all the important brain cells and nerves responsible for vision. I knew that, so I just needed to calm my heart...and my breathing, because hyperventilating wasn’t doing me any good. I needed to look for a way out—my phone. I could use the light from my phone to see, and Zayne must have felt my panic. For once, I was grateful for the bond I could feel in my chest. He would look for me.
Hopefully not on a nearby street.
I began to reach for my phone while praying that it hadn’t been damaged in the fall, because that would suck. I needed light. I needed to be able to see—
A soft thump echoed not far from me. I stilled, trying not to breathe too heavily or too deeply as I stared into nothing. What was that—
Another barely audible sound caught my attention. A softer thud and then one more, a sound that reminded me of...
Realization kicked in, and my stomach dropped as my grace burned in my core.
I wasn’t alone.
29
The sound of footfalls ceased as I held myself completely still. I knew beyond a doubt that there was someone with me.
What that someone was, I had no idea.
Because it wasn’t Zayne, and no human could’ve made that jump as quietly or safely, but I also didn’t sense a demon. Could it be another Warden? If that was the case, why not say something?
I scanned the darkness, hearing only the steady splatter of rain and the rumble of thunder. There was no other noise, not even the sound of breathing, but I could feel it. Every sense I had was hyperaware of the presence.
I needed to see.
Chills swept down my arms as I slowly, carefully reached for my back pocket. My fingers slipped over my phone. Heart pounding like the rain, I held my breath as I pulled it out. If the phone still worked, the moment I hit the button, it would light up, alerting whatever was down here with me. It was the risk I had to take.
In the darkness, I found the button on my phone. The small flare of light as my home screen came into focus brought relief and worry, along with a burst of pain in my eyes at the sudden brightness. There was no movement as I dragged my thumb along the bottom of the screen. Sparing a brief glance at my phone, I squinted until the little flashlight icon came into focus. I hit the button and exhaled roughly.
Intense white light streamed from the phone. I followed the funnel of light to...another glistening wall that was about five feet from me. Something was carved into the stone. I couldn’t make out what it was, but I realized I was in a tunnel.
I shifted the phone toward my left as I reached for a dagger with my other hand. My fingers curled around the handle as I followed the light, seeing grayish-green stone, clumps of grass and dirt—
Weight came down on my arm, so fast that I lost my grip on my phone and shrieked. It fell to the floor and before I could even feel embarrassed over the tiny scream, the tunnel was once more thrown into complete darkness.
Instinct roared to the surface as my grace clamored inside me. I pitched forward, unsheathing the dagger and swinging out, slicing at nothing but air. I pulled back, panting as I pressed against the wall. I tensed, bracing myself for a blow I couldn’t see to deflect. I thrust the dagger out again as I went for my other blade, hitting nothing.
“Where are you?” I shouted. “Where in the Hell are you?”
Silence greeted me.
Panic spread, invading my consciousness like a noxious poison as I tried to remember my blindfolded training with Zayne. Wait for the change in the air—the temperature, the shift that would occur around me. There’d be a warning that something was close. My gaze darted wildly side to side. Everything around me was cold and the air was too thick, too stagnant. I felt nothing but the sweat dotting my clammy skin. A distant part of my brain knew that I was caving in to hysteria, but I couldn’t rein in the panic. The complete and utter void of light struck a terrifying chord in me, tearing open a Pandora’s box of fear and helplessness. I jabbed the dagger out, causing nothing but a whisper of air.
A soft clucking, a tsk tsk sound, replied, crawling over my skin.
Every part of my being focused on the direction of the disapproving noise. It had come from...directly in front of me. From my angle on the floor, I was at an extreme disadvantage. I pushed myself to my feet, putting weight on my left leg—
My right ankle was snagged by someone and jerked out and up. I went down hard on my back, the impact punching the air out of my lungs. I kicked out with my other leg, but the tight grip pulled, dragged me farther into the tunnel, away from the sound of the rain.
I sat up, swinging both daggers. The hold on my ankle was released suddenly, and a very male, very low chuckle echoed around me. My body sprang into action. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the dull burst of pain. Panting, I gripped the daggers—
A cool, damp touch pressed against my face, the contact a solid slide down my cheek. Flesh. The touch was one of flesh. Gasping, I swung out as I brought my right knee up, kicking. The grunt told me my foot had connected with whoever was down here. I started forward, following the sound, when something hard and sharp—an elbow—caught me under the chin, knocking my head back. Pain threw me off balance. A hand caught my wrist, twisting sharply. My fingers opened on reflex and the dagger fell even as I swung the other dagger around. The same happened. Another hand caught my other wrist. That dagger fell and clanged on the stone floor.
Rearing back, I moved to use the hold against the attacker. Weight slammed into me before I could get my legs up. The weight was a body—a hard, incredibly cold chest and torso—pressing me into the wall. The full-bodied contact was a shock to the system. I tried to push off, but the weight kept me in place as the hands at my wrists drew my arms up, pinning them above my head.
Terror exploded in my stomach as my arms were stretched, causing my back to bow. Blood in my veins turned to slush as icy breath moved against my cheek, followed by the feel of drier, softer lips.
My struggles stilled. A thousand different horrific scenes rapidly played, each one more disturbing than the last, being forced into a helpless position where I couldn’t fight back, couldn’t do anything to stop whatever might be coming—
No.
I wasn’t helpless. I wasn’t captured. I wasn’t without a weapon—a weapon I should’ve used by now. A weapon that I’d been repeatedly trained to use as the last resort. Clarity struck me with the force of a bullet to the brain.
Those years of training were wrong.
And listening to them had been my greatest weakness. Not my vision. Not my feelings or my fear. I shouldn’t ever allow things to escalate to the last resort. I should never be in a position like this when I could’ve prevented it.
Terror gave way to rage, turning that slush in my veins to fire. My grace roared to life, and I tapped into it. The corners of my eyes flared with golden-white light.
Whoever this bastard was, he was about to get the surprise of his life.
The grip on my wrists shifted until one hand bit into my bone. The other gripped me by the neck, pulling me forward while holding me back. Muscles stretched to the point of tearing.
“It’s a little late to use your grace.” The voice was distinctively Southern, a deep twang that would’ve been charming in any other situation. It wasn’t at all lost on me that he knew what I was. “That should’ve been the first thing you used, darlin’.”
“Did you seriously just call me darling?” I growled, feeling the intense heat power up my arm.
“What should I call you? Trueborn?”
“How about your worst nightmare?”
“How about no? Because that would be a lie, darlin’. In reality, I’m your worst nightmare.”
I was suddenly released, and I staggered forward before catching myself. My grace flared from my palm, the handle forming as my fingers curled around the weight. Flames licked down the length of the blade, spilling a golden glow into the tunnel.
I saw enough of him.
Standing across from me, dressed in all black, hair so blond it appeared white and skin an alabaster shade that was near translucent. There was just a glimpse of his face, but I saw that his features were all perfect angles, although the sardonic twist to his lips turned the asymmetric beauty into something far too cruel and cold, like a young man carved from ice and snow.