Page 42 of Shadow Spirit

ADRIANA

Just before the assault, Eoghan had returned to the room in which he held her, taunting her.

“You may have helped that brat escape, but I will soon retake her.” Eoghan sauntered across the room to her, lifting her breast as if weighing it. “I didn’t have time to properly enjoy you before, but once we have retreated to my castle in Ireland, we’ll have all the time in the world. My knot grows heavy, and I look forward to driving it into you to relieve its ache.”

“Yeah, that’s never going to happen.”

Eoghan cupped his crotch. “Just you wait. There are so many ways I mean to teach you to please me.”

“You couldn’t please a woman if your life depended on it. Fortunately for you, it doesn’t. I wonder what your men would think if they knew all you’d ever done was rape and bite me? You do know that your mark, as well as everything else you’ve done to me and others, will be avenged.”

“By that pathetic doctor? Don’t make me laugh. He isn’t an alpha and would never be able to eradicate my mark.”

“So, tell me, asshole, why is it my magic doesn’t work on you, but yours works on me?”

He chuckled, reminding her of Snidely Whiplash from the old cartoons.

“It was a safeguard against the intrinsic power of female witches. One of the first warlocks was able to cast an everlasting spell that no female witch has been able to break. It helps keep the females in line and knowledgeable of their rightful place—subservient to men. You will only be free of these bonds,” he said indicating the manacles, “and this room when I release you and not before.”

We’ll see about that.

So Eoghan didn’t know about Decker. Even though she longed to throw the sexual prowess of both her fated mates in his face, keeping Eoghan’s attention and focus on her could only aid Greg and Decker’s cause.

As explosions caused the floor beneath them to tremble, Eoghan’s expression revealed a flash of real fear. Adriana wondered if perhaps his magic wasn’t as strong as she’d once feared.

“I’ll be back for you,” Eoghan snarled as he turned and fled from the room.

Adriana strained against the silver-coated iron cuffs binding her wrists to the cold, stone wall. Each time she did, the silver burned her skin, making it difficult to use enough force to free herself. The flickering light from outside the barred windows cast eerie shadows across the floor and up the walls as if motionless, mute soldiers stood waiting for Eoghan’s command to kill her. Her breathing was ragged from the fear, frustration, and exhaustion left as her only companions, while she could hear the fighting from outside the room.

She had been struggling with all three for several hours and her mind and muscles ached from the relentless effort. With a snarl of determination, Adriana examined the manacles for the hundredth time, her eyes coming to rest on the lock which held them closed. The rusty metal was old, but still sturdy, the keyhole a taunting reminder of her captivity. She took a deep breath, willing herself to lose her fear of her situation and the danger which the others were in, and she tried to focus. There had to be a way out. There just had to be.

She knew her magic was ineffective in manipulating the actual lock and was certain it would keep her from escaping, but maybe it could be used to defeat the metal that bound her to the wall.

“Think, Adriana, think,” she muttered to herself, her voice barely a whisper.

Her eyes darted around the room, looking for anything that could help her free herself. The room was mostly bare, save for the barest scraps of furniture and other necessities. She spotted a rusted piece of iron—the link to a piece of chain, perhaps? Something akin to hope flared within her chest. Maybe she could use her magic to manipulate it into a lock pick.

Adriana closed her eyes, focusing and centering herself. She blocked out the sounds of the battle around her. In her mind’s eye she could see the jagged piece of metal. It didn’t immediately fly to her when she tried to move it, but it did rattle. Progress.

She tried again. This time, the metal left the floor, but fell back almost as quickly. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. She wondered if Greg’s mark had begun to weaken Eoghan’s hold on her. She was convinced that in order to defeat Eoghan, Decker needed to mark her as well and the sooner the better.

Having sex and having your mate tear a chunk out of your neck while surrounded by enemies and a firefight wasn’t ideal, but if it gave them the advantage over Eoghan, then so be it.

She stretched and strengthened her mind, brushing the edges of the metal and making it rattle before rising again. This time it made movement towards her before falling. “Progress, not perfection,” she muttered under her breath before shifting position to get a clearer view. The problem with the new position was that it put her skin in closer contact with the silver. She gasped and recoiled from the burning sensation.

Suck it up, buttercup. Witches have been burned at the stake for centuries; a little flash of pain from the contact isn’t going to kill you.

She closed her eyes, clearing her mind, and tried again. She struggled with the effort of manipulating the metal as well as ignoring the burning sensation from the silver. Finally, when she opened her eyes, she let out a small cry of triumph as the metal piece seemed to rise from the floor without any of the previous wobble and began to make its way to the lock on the first cuff. Manipulating something in a more delicate maneuver than just flinging it across the room was tiring, but she knew she needed to free herself in order to aid those who had come for her.

Carefully, she managed to insert the rough metal into the lock. She worked the makeshift tool in the keyhole, wincing as it caused the silver to scrape along her skin. When her attention was diverted from her task by a sound outside, she almost lost her lockpick to the floor again. Strengthening her resolve, she ignored everything around her.

Had she not been bound by Eoghan’s magic, she might have manipulated and slowed time in order to give herself and her mates the advantage, but that was not a gift she could make use of at the moment. And yet time seemed to slow of its own accord. Minutes passed like hours as she fiddled with the lock. She bit her lip, concentrating as sweat trickled down from her forehead. Just when she thought she had failed again, she heard a faint click and her heart leapt. Rotating the metal piece again, the lock finally gave way and the first of the manacles opened.

She caught the makeshift tool as it threatened to fall to the ground. This time, using her hands instead of her mind, opening the lock was much easier and faster. A wave of relief washed over her, but there was still much to do before they would all be safe.

Adriana rubbed her red and raw wrists as she lowered her arms, the blood rushing back into her fingers causing a small surge of pain. She stood, her legs shaking from disuse, and managed to walk away from the wall.

Tamping down the link to Eoghan, she opened the link to Decker. “I am unchained. I need you, not Greg. Have him ensure that Eoghan and his men cannot get to us.”

---