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With Morgan Noel:Undone [Urban Fantasy]
Do you want to see what else R. Phoenix has written? Check out the first chapter of Spoiled By R. Phoenix & Morgan Noel
SPOILED
R. Phoenix & Morgan Noel
Chapter One Kieran
Kieran shoved a pillow over his head when he heard his name being called. He didn’t know what time it was, and he didn’t care. All he knew was that he’d gotten entirely too little sleep, and like hell was he getting out of bed.
Not that Wren seemed too impressed with his unintelligible grumbles of protest. She clapped loudly right next to his ear, making him jerk. “Yeah, yeah, you’re cranky. We know. Get up anyway.”
Aware that he’d sound like a five-year-old in the middle of a tantrum if he tried to argue his way out of it, Kieran groaned and flopped over, the pillow still over his face. It took more effort than he’d expected, but then, he hadn’t even been asleep long enough for the blood on his blankets to properly stiffen the fabric yet.
“Why?” he asked, his voice muffled.
She snatched the pillow away, tossing it onto his legs. “Got a patient for you to take care of.”
“For fuck’s sake, Wren.” He opened his eyes, squinting at her. “You look like you got some sleep,” he noted, his voice more than a little sour. “Someone else can sew a few stitches for once.”
“Nope. Only you can do this,” she replied, reaching for the edge of his blanket. Kieran’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. “This is my only comfortable blanket,” he warned her. Blood-stained and all, it was his favorite.
Wren twisted her wrist from his grasp and rolled her eyes. “You can go back to sleep after you check him out. We need to make sure we didn’t sedate him too heavily.”
Sedate him? Him who?
Kieran blinked up at her. “The fuck are you talking about?”
“Finally got a shot at the Butcher’s whore,” Wren replied, taking a step in the direction of the door. “Hook, line, sinker. Bailey nabbed him, but we want to make sure he didn’t get too excited.” She paused. “…and we’re not sure how well the collar’s going to work.”
Bingo.
They didn’t really give a fuck about the effects the sedative might have. Very few members of the Rebellion would condemn killing a witch, in cold blood or otherwise. Kieran sure as fuck didn’t. Any chance he might’ve had at a life had been eradicated when the supes had taken over, and anyone who didn’t immediately submit to their regime was branded a rebel.
Kieran stifled a yawn with his hand. “You got the witch?”
Wren eyed him. She’d never particularly enjoyed repeating herself, but then, he’d never particularly enjoyed being woken up like this, either. He didn’t mind needling her. “Yes.”
“So you don’t really care about the drugs. You just want to make sure that if the collar doesn’t keep his magic locked away, no one will get hurt,” Kieran said, reluctantly starting to sit up. He stretched, letting out a slow breath. With his paltry medicinal skills and immunity to magic, he was a veritable superhero where the Rebellion was concerned.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he was a shitty liar, had zero capability for combat, and didn’t think well on his feet, he might’ve been front and center during their raids. It was better this way, though — obviously.
She shrugged. “Little bit of both. It’d be a waste for him to die on accident. But yeah. Franklin said they work, but…”
But trust wasn’t exactly something they came by easily these days. Paul Franklin was a notorious asshole and an accomplished, ruthless soldier who was a real hardass when it came to supes. He wouldn’t have much reason to lie when he said he had a device that supposedly nullified magic, and he wasn’t the type to make false claims that might risk his reputation.
He grunted in acknowledgment. “Doubt he’d give us something he hasn’t tested.” “No sense in getting sloppy now,” Wren replied, tapping her foot impatiently. “C’mon.”
Kieran only put his shoes on, not bothering to grab a shirt. There was no telling what kind of diseases he could get from the filthy floor, and his shirt wouldn’t be comfortable when it was probably starting to stiffen up as the blood dried.
Even getting their hands on a small supply of food wasn’t easy.
He trailed after her with heavy footsteps, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He cast a longing glance back at his cot, but sleep would have to wait. Again.
At this rate, he’d be personally testing how long someone could go without sleep before they dropped dead.
Wren led him to the stairs leading down into the cellar, and he paused. Great. They’d woken him up to check on a captive on a few hours of sleep, which usually meant it was pretty urgent. How far had Bailey had to go to seduce the witch into letting his guard down? A faint smile twitched onto his lips as he wondered how far their resident straight boy had had to go to set the hook and reel him in. Either way, it had worked, from there, it had been game over for the arms dealer’s favorite boy toy.
