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Sebastian nods. “As soon as the tides turned against him.”
Figures.
“He really is the most cowardly alpha I’ve ever come across,” Finn says, drawing Sebastian’s attention to him and the unconscious witch in his arms.
Bas clicks his tongue as his gaze pans over her. “So, this is the last of the Dumont witches. All this fuss… for what?”
That’s what we’re going to find out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
JOSIE
I wake up in another windowless cell so similar to the werewolves’ dungeon that, for a heart-stopping second, I think I’m back in Egan’s clutches. But no–while the gray stone that encases me on three sides is nearly identical, the front of this cell is more prison-like with a row of silver bars caging me in.
I am so over this whole being kidnapped thing.
My current captors—the vampires, I assume—were nice enough to provide a thin mattress to lie on. It’s not comfortable, but it is an unexpected improvement from the paper-thin sheet the werewolves offered me.
And even more surprising than the dingy mattress is that the magic-dampening collar is gone from my neck. My fingers drag along the tender skin to double check, but the flare of my magic at my fingertips is confirmation enough.
My connection to Mother Gaia has been restored.
I’m still weak from surviving my time with the werewolves, but I have access to my magic again.
That makes me both relieved and terrified. It means the vampires who have me in their clutches don’t see me as a threat. Why would they? They’ve already proven they can overpower me. A single word from a vampire’s lips and I’m completely defenseless.
Yet again.
This is worse than being the captive of the local werewolf Alpha. At least with him, I knew what I was up against.
I miss my quiet countryside life back in England. I’ll take static and boring over the chaos of the last few days any time.
A sudden noise behind me startles me and I whirl so quickly the gray stone of the walls and floor blur together. I blink to reorient my vision and standing on the other side of the bars are three men—three vampires.
They weren’t there the whole time, were they?
Do vampires have the power of invisibility?
No, I think they’re just that fast.
The thought scares the crap out of me. If they wanted to kill me, I would be dead before I realized they moved.
Except none of them are moving. They are all unnervingly still and annoyingly quiet as they stare at me like I’m an animal being exhibited in their personal zoo.
The one who cornered me in Dad’s office is the tallest of the three at about six-foot-three. He looks like he just walked off an episode of Vikings, his dirty blond hair hanging just past his shoulders, the top half tied back in a series of intricate braids. His thick beard is a shade or two darker than his roots, but it suits him. It looks rugged.
I knew he was lying about rescuing me.
Rule number one: never trust a vampire.
“We’re glad yer finally awake,” the vampire next to him says, breaking the drawn-out silence. “It’s nearly daylight again.”
The speaker is a head shorter than the first and keeps his voice calm, as if he’s speaking to a spooked animal. He has a strong nose and a shaggy mop of dark red hair that reminds me of Sam Heughan in Outlander.
Man, I would give just about anything for a boring weekend curled up on the couch for a TV marathon. This has been the longest, most painful weekend of my life.
Hold on… is it even still the weekend?
