“I don’t have a choice. I can’t let them kill me. So I sit here night after night waiting to remember something, waiting for them to make a mistake so I can escape.”
“I’m sorry. I promise, we’ll find a way out of here.”
He gave her a puzzled glance. “You must have had a hard life,” he said.
His words surprised her. There was no way he could know about her past. She didn’t talk about it. “Why do you say that?”
“I’ve never seen a woman so…” He seemed to be searching for the word. “Strong,” he finally said, but Anna didn’t think that was his first choice.
“Thank you,” she said, not sure it was a compliment. All warriors were strong, but she didn’t tell him that. She couldn’t tell him who she was until she was sure who he was. Clan secrets had to be kept. “You’re strong too. You would have to be to survive the torture. The tattoos on your chest, you don’t recall getting them?”
He touched his chest. “No. It’s an odd thing what being alone does to you, having no idea who you are. Sometimes…” He paused and gave her a sheepish grin that made her body feel weightless. “Sometimes I feel like the marks are talking to me. Barmy, aye?”
If the marks were what she thought, it wasn’t barmy at all. Her battle marks had kept her sane many times. Another cry sounded from outside. The hybrid? “What is this place?” she said, shuddering.
“The guards don’t talk much, other than taunting me.”
“Lance is sneaky. I couldn’t see the man he was talking to just before I followed him, but he doesn’t want the fat guard to know about it.”
“Did you recognize the man he was talking to?”
“No. But he was huge.” Not many men were that size. Maybe he wasn’t a man. Could he have been the master? But why would Lance be sneaking around? Anna squirmed trying to get more comfortable. The bench was hard.
“Are you still cold?”
“I’m fine.” He must not have believed her, or he was still cold himself. He shifted, somehow making their bodies fit together even tighter. She did start to feel warmer.
“Does Lance know you followed him?” He stifled a yawn.
“He does. I told the fat guard, Bart. Lance wasn’t happy. He wanted him to kill me. I wonder what he’s hiding that’s so important.”
The prisoner turned and stared at her, which put them almost nose to nose. Or nose to shoulder. He was a lot taller than she was. “He must be trying to silence you. One of us will have to stay awake in case he comes back. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll keep watch.”
“You need rest more than I do. You’re injured.” But she was so tired she couldn’t keep her eyes open. “I think we’ve been drugged.”
“I suspect you’re right. I feel unusually sleepy. The guards have been on edge. Their master is coming soon. You sleep first. I’ll rest in a bit.”
She tried to stay awake, but her eyelids were too heavy. She woke in the night, warm. His arm was around her shoulders, and she was slumped against him. He’d tucked the blanket around her and was holding it in place. She straightened, scanning the cell to see if they were alone. They were. His arm tightened around her, and he leaned his head against hers. There was something so comforting about the position that she ignored her numb butt.
“Are you all right?”
“Just stiff.”
He shifted. “Aye, I can’t feel my arse. Wish I couldn’t feel my back.”
Leaning against the wall couldn’t be doing his wounds any good.
“We could stretch out on the floor,” he said.
But that would be even more intimate. They were in a prison dungeon. Did it matter? They both rose slowly. “I wish there was a bed.”
In the darkness, she saw him glance at her breasts. “Aye. The floor’s not much for sleeping. I’d rather have the ground and soft leaves.”
It would be an improvement over stone. They chose a spot near the corner of the cell. He spread the blanket, and she lay down near the edge. Without words, he lay next to her on his side, close, but not touching. He pulled the remaining half of the blanket over them.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Your chattering teeth tell a different story.”
“Guess they don’t want to pay the heat bill.” She’d never been this bothered by cold. It must be the drug.
“I can move closer, if that’s all right.”
She would have let him lie on top of her to get rid of this chill. Or maybe it was the drug. She wouldn’t have minded letting him do more than just get rid of the chill. That wasn’t like her. “Thank you,” she said, and he shifted closer. She turned on her side, and he tucked the blanket tighter around them. She could feel him brush against her, but not pressing. “There must be someone wondering where you are.” Maybe a wife who might be upset that his body was tucked against hers. If she loved him, she’d be more upset at what they’d done to him than who he was sharing his body warmth with.
“I would hope.”
He sounded so lost, Anna’s heart broke a little for him. With no memory of who he was, he was completely alone. “It must be terrible not to remember your name or where you came from. Where your family is.” Not that she had a family now. Her only family was her friends. Did they even know she was missing? Were they in danger? Lance’s buddy could have already attacked them. If something happened to them, she would be as alone as the prisoner.
“Aye,” he said softly. “It is that.”
She wanted to help him. All she could do was share her body heat. “When we get out, I’ll help you find them.” And she was determined to get them out.
“That’s very kind of you.”
She lay there feeling his heart beat against her back and the movement of his chest as he breathed. And she was glad she wasn’t alone.
After a moment, his voice brushed her ear. “I’ve no memories of my own. Perhaps you could share something of yours with me? Tell me about when you were a child.”
She never talked about her childhood. But somehow here in the dungeon with this stranger who had no memories, it seemed safe. Whatever she had, good or bad, it was more than he had.
“I lived with my mother. I never knew my…father.” Her mother hadn’t either. “My mother was a powerful woman at one time. Very strong.” Strong enough to make tough decisions. “And kind. But something terrible happened, and it destroyed her.” For years she’d believed her mother had died at the hands of a demon when she’d really killed herself. The clan hadn’t told Anna. That made her angry, but she understood in a way. She had just started her duty. Knowing the truth would have destroyed her. She would never have known if Angus hadn’t found her mother’s death certificate. “I miss her.” There were times when she’d felt her mother’s love. When they’d almost felt normal.
“I’m sorry it was bad. Didn’t your mother tell you anything about your father?”
“No. She never spoke of him.” And Anna learned not to ask.
“Do you live nearby?” he asked.
“No. I have a flat in London, and I spend a lot of time in Scotland.”
“Scotland?” He sounded the word as if testing it.
She suspected he knew Scotland well. “I travel a lot for work.”
“What do you do?” he asked, and she thought she heard a note of suspicion in his voice.
“Um, it’s hard to explain.” As much as she wanted to open up to him, she couldn’t say much until she was sure he was a warrior.
“Why do you have to work?”
Odd question. “Everyone has to work if they want to eat.” Her job just wasn’t typical. Not many humans got their orders from an angel. “My friends help me.” She thought of the others—Ronan, Sorcha and Duncan, Faelan, and now Bree, Shay, Cody…Angus. They were her family now. And she’d abandoned them to stew in her grief over Angus. Angus would be pissed if he knew. Maybe he did know. Maybe he was watching her now. Watching them. Maybe she was loopy with drugs. She definitely wasn’t herself. She almost felt drunk. She snuggled closer to the warmth at her back, wishing the prisoner would hold her even tighter. God, what did they give me? she thought, as the weight of her lids pulled her under.