Page 1 of Legacy Ascended

Chapter one

Jessica

The van hits a rut, driving my shoulder into the floor. I bite back a sound. Nobody reacts.

Good. They don’t know I’m awake.

My wrists are bound, my mouth tastes foul, and my shirt is wet and sticky against my side.

I keep my body slack, which is harder than the pain. The floor under my cheek is ribbed rubber laid over metal. The engine strains beneath me. The tires find one hole after another in the road.

I listen.

Someone breathes close to my head. He smells of soap and antiseptic. Near the back doors, a boot scrapes against the floor, stops, then does it again. Add the driver, and there are at least three of them in here.

My left shoulder throbs where the dart went in. My flank is worse, burning from my hip to up under my ribs whenever the van drops into another hole. The fabric around it is getting stiff with dried blood, but something soft has been pressed over the wound. Tape pulls at the skin beneath my ribs.

Someone bandaged me while I was unconscious.

I don’t know what to do with that.

I remember the light turning green and grass under my feet. Then the net came down, heavy and wet across my shoulders. Men rushed me from both sides with long poles in their hands, and another dart hit me.

The van takes a bend and my stomach rolls with it. Maybe it’s the darts. Maybe I’m carsick. Either way, it sucks.

I breathe slowly and test the restraints without letting anything above my wrists move.

My wrists are zip-tied together in front of me. The plastic has slipped low across the base of my right thumb and rubbed the skin raw. Blood has made it slick. Another zip tie holds my ankles, but that one is loose enough to give my feet some room. My boots are still on. My jacket isn’t.

I flex my fingers inside the zip ties. They move slowly and without much strength. The second time, my fingers respond faster.

Whatever they gave me is wearing off. I reach for my direwolf and find nothing.

Damn it. I want to tear these assholes apart.

I reach for my mates instead.

The bonds are slippery. I find Torres and lose him, reach again, and catch all three at once.

Torres is hot and frantic, the bond stretched thin. Luke is colder, and he’s furious. Soren is quiet. Just weight—steady, not letting up.

I want all three of them so badly my eyes burn. A tear slips sideways into my hair. I leave it there. I want Torres’s stupid running commentary in my ear.

They’re alive. They’re looking for me, even if they’re getting farther away. I can still feel them. The drugs didn’t take that from me, and I breathe a little easier.

They won’t stop looking. I won’t stop fighting. God help these fucking kidnappers, because if I don’t kill them, my mates will.

My ears pop. We’re climbing. The man near my head shifts, and two fingers press against my neck.

I keep my breathing slow.

“She’s clearing it faster than the chart.”

“Then the chart’s wrong,” the driver says.

“The chart was built for a bear.”

“A bear?” The man near the doors gives a short, breathless laugh. “Did you see how fucking tall she was?”