Total pages in book: 203
Estimated words: 199654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 998(@200wpm)___ 799(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 998(@200wpm)___ 799(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
The older one of the two was the driver from Jase’s hotel!
“You just come nice so we don’t be… how you say? Rough?” His accent is thick. He says something in his language to the other guy who moves in and grabs my wrist.
Shit!
“Don’t fight and you won’t get hurt,” the younger guy tells me.
6
JASE
Too slowly, I’m swimming toward consciousness with a killer headache. I don’t know what that witch hit me with, but between that and whatever she used to keep me attached to that pole and prevent me from shifting, I’m feeling like I’ve depleted down to 1% battery.
Squinting, my eyes and nose scan the space. A breeze sweeping through the space answers my question before I’ve fully formed it.
She’s gone, got out of here through that window.
Panic spikes in my system as I shakily get to my feet. I feel nauseous. Fuck!
I need to shift first. Shift, regain strength, and then go, pick up her scent and catch up with her. I’ve still got a cuff around my neck, plus on my wrists and ankles, though now my hands are in front of me. I pull, with all my might, but it’s not enough right now. I don’t have the strength to break them.
I already know I can’t shift. I’m fighting against a sensation that has me feeling like I’m underwater. The air is strange around me, not smelling or feeling right.
I hear multiple sets of footsteps above me and catch her fragrance again. Human males are coming down the stairs, one of them carrying her. I see her feebly struggling in his grip and three of her shirt buttons are undone, for fuck’s sake.
Her frightened eyes hit me while my face contorts into rage.
“Put her the fuck down! Do it gently!” I instinctively try to move in that direction but crash, knees hitting concrete, because my fucking ankles are shackled. I fight my way to standing and take small shuffling steps in that direction while I reach to steady myself with the pole Bailey was attached to. I can’t reach it. What? It’s in front of me but I can’t grip it despite the fact I see my own hands trying. It’s out of reach. It’s out of reach despite it being right fucking here. What the fuck? What the fuck did that witch give me?
The witch responsible for all this shit follows the two guys down the stairs and as unsteady as I am, I’m heading for her, determined to take her out before she can inflict further damage, envisioning me clotheslining her, knocking her out, and shielding Bailey before I take the males out, making sure they don’t get up again, ensuring we get the hell out of here.
None of what I’m planning is possible because it’s like I’ve walked into what feels like a glass wall when I get to the witch, who’s now backed up against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, staring at me with confusion.
“What the fuck?” I shout in a near blind rage. “Put her down right now!”
I’m glaring at the asshole who’s still got Bailey, wanting to rip her from him, wanting his goddamn hands off her.
But I can’t reach anything. I’m stuck.
“What did you do?” I demand.
Bailey is crying, lips moving like she’s talking, but my senses are adrenaline-fueled and my own blood thunders so loud in my ears that I hear nothing else. Finally, a link between the handcuffs snaps and my arm movements are my own again. But I still can’t touch anyone in front of me and can’t move any closer to the witch against the wall in front of me.
The guy releases Bailey and the witch squeezes past me, throws something at me that she pulls from her pocket. Thick, pale green goo floats in thin air in front of me, dripping slowly down to the floor.
She and the other two run up the stairs. Bailey is on the floor and I can’t reach her. I’m now stepping on the green goo, but can’t feel it, it’s not sticking to my shoes.
I squat, wobbling; my equilibrium is all fucked up, and it makes me fall to my ass. I try to work at breaking the leg irons, but the chain is too thick for how weakened I am. I lift one of those green flowers from the floor and the burn is like a hot ember, so I toss it but strangely, it lands by my feet.
Bailey is directly ahead, lying on the concrete floor, smelling like apples with her glasses beside her. Her clothes are grass-stained and there’s a tear at her knee, a scrape across her skin. Her shirt is halfway undone, showing a strip of pink lace between her breasts. Rage thunders in my veins.
She’s breathing normally, but I can’t touch her. I’m stuck.