Shit. I knew exactly where I was. I'd been here before.
Five-by-eight jail cell. Iron bars in front of me and to my left. Four cells, and I was in the last one. I'd been jailed here once before, months ago, by a bunch of idiot teenage Halfies working for Tovin the Crazy Elf.
I yanked at the thick metal collar and couldn't get it off. Reached for the Break, intent on teleporting my ass out of that cell—only the Break wasn't there. Just like the first time, something was blocking its magic from me. "Fuck," I said. To compound the badness of the situation, I'd been stripped out of my damned clothes. Right down to my bra and panties.
And I wasn't the only one half-naked. In the cell next to mine, Baylor lay unconscious, modesty protected only by his boxer-briefs. Marcus was next to him, already on his feet and prowling his cage. Unlike Baylor, he was totally naked—he'd told me once clothes made shifting take longer, so he wore as few layers as necessary, which meant commando. The skin beneath his collar was bright red.
Silver. Damn.
In the far cage, the same one where I'd watched my friend Alex die only to come back as an infected half-Blood, lay Milo, also skinned down to his boxers. He was starting to wake up, though, and Marcus squatted close to the bars on his side.
"Milo?" Marcus said. "Milo, wake up."
"Working on it," came the pained reply.
Baylor grunted and twitched, and soon all four of us were awake.
Four of us. "Where's Wyatt?" I asked.
Marcus lifted his face and sniffed. "Truman hasn't been down here." His lips curled back into a snarl. "Bengals."
"Seriously?" Milo asked. "The Bengals kidnapped us? Why?"
"We will assuredly find out."
"Evy," Baylor said. "Can you teleport?"
"No, I'm being blocked." The first time I'd been here, a magically infused orange crystal had been blocking my access to the Break. I didn't see another crystal, but that didn't mean it wasn't there somewhere. And how the hell had a Bengal gotten his paws on one, anyhow?
Our clothes lay in a heap near the basement door—a door that wouldn't open to anything good. Strange to think that I'd been here before, and I still had no idea where "here" was. Wyatt and I had gotten out the first time thanks to Smedge. And Smedge wouldn't be coming to the rescue today. I had no idea if Wyatt was still alive, and my heart ached with the uncertainty.
We didn't have to wait long for answers to our burning questions. Marcus began growling seconds before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man with dark auburn hair walked in. His shining copper eyes gave him away as Felia. Marcus snarled louder. The stranger ignored him and stepped over to a pulley system with several levers—our chains and collars.
Not good.
He flipped a switch and turned a crank. Instantly, the tension in my chain tightened as the slack was pulled upward into the pulley. The chain went taut, the stiff collar pressing against my throat, tight enough to pull me nearly to my tiptoes. He stopped and locked the chain in, leaving me with nowhere to go. My hands and feet were still free—thank God—but I was one solid yank from being choked to death.
The man went down the row until all four of us were strung up in a similar way, never saying a single word.
Marcus broke the silence first. "What do you want, Vale?" he asked.
The fact that Marcus knew the bad guy surprised me more than it should have. There weren't that many Felia in the city, and being part of the ruling family meant Marcus probably knew most of them. Still, everything about this felt personal, and that made me very, very nervous.
"I have a simple request, Marcus," Vale replied. "I want the security codes to the Dane mansion."
Marcus made a noise that was part-laugh and part-snort. "You know that will never happen."
"Never say never."
This wasn't going to end well. The Dane mansion was a small fortress, and it housed not only Marcus's family, but also the last members of the Coni Clan. Marcus would never betray the people there like this, no matter what Vale dealt out.
"So this is how your family will see Riley defeated?" Marcus asked with a disgusted snarl. "You fear a fair fight just as your brother did, so you'll sneak up from behind and stab him in the back?"
"Actually, I was planning to stab him in the face."
The coldness in Vale's voice gave me chills. Not simply because of the lack of emotion as he spoke of murder, but that he'd said it in front of all of us. We were dead in his eyes, no matter what. Please, Wyatt, please be alive.
"You're a fool, Vale, as is your entire family," Marcus said.
I wanted to tell him to shut up and not antagonize the bad guy, only he was doing exactly what I usually did. Bluster and bray in order to buy time for help to arrive. Only we hadn't managed to call anyone in time. No one at the Watchtower knew where we were. They might not even realize we were missing.
"We'll see who's the fool," Vale replied.
He snapped his fingers, and a second Felia came inside. He was shorter than Vale, but had the same auburn hair and muscular build. The Goon walked to my cell, unlocked the door with a set of keys, then pushed the door to the side with a metallic clank. My stomach tightened. Every instinct in my body screamed.
Goon got close enough. I grabbed the chain over my head with both hands, held tight, and kicked out hard with my feet. My heels slammed into Goon's mouth and snapped his head back. He yelped and stumbled right out of the cell until he hit the far wall. Blood dripped from his split lip. His copper eyes flashed with fury.
Vale chuckled. "I see she lives up to her reputation."
"Take the collar off and you'll see what I can do, Fuzz Face," I snapped. I'd been sparring with Marcus for weeks just for the practice, and I had no doubts I could deliver a solid beat-down to Vale's ass. Especially with so much extra motivation hanging by their necks.
Vale came to my cell door, but stayed out of reach of my kicks. His nose wrinkled. I really hated it when Therians—Felia, Cania, or otherwise—sniffed me. It made me want to apologize for having not showered recently, even if I had. Athough in this case, I hadn't.
"You reek of the half-breed," Vale said with obvious disgust in his voice. "What sort of person would lie down with an animal like that?"
"You got a wife I can ask the same question to?"
His eyes narrowed. "This one belongs to another. His smell is all over her. She won't be useful."
Crap. Yes, I'd seen my fair share of torture recently, but of the four of us here, I was the fastest healer. I needed to keep this asshole's attention on me as long as possible. "Where's Wyatt?"
"Who?"
"The half-breed, where is he?"
Malice pulled the corners of Vale's mouth into a twisted smile. "Don't concern yourself with him any longer, woman. Enjoy your final few hours alive."
"Like I haven't heard that before."
Vale's gaze wandered from me up to the chain keeping me dangling from the ceiling. "Suffocation is a slow, painful way to die."
My guts twisted. "I've been tortured before."
"Indeed."
Vale and Goon left my cage door open—which didn't help me any, because I couldn't get out of that damned collar—and walked down the row. Past Baylor—whose intimidation face was on full-force and looked as easy to persuade as a brick wall—and past Marcus, who looked pissed enough to pop a few blood vessels. Vale opened Milo's cell door and took a single step inside.
Shit.
I had to angle a bit to see them through the bars and the two bodies in my line of sight. Milo seemed relaxed, but I'd seen him fight. I knew his poker face and how quickly he reacted to threats.