Page 62 of Blood Bound

And I have no fucking idea how to find her.

19

Chapter 19

Rowan

Icome to slowly, my head pounding like I’ve been hit by a truck. Darkness envelops me, so thick that I can’t even see my hand in front of my face.

Where am I? What happened?

The last thing I remember is…the Nocturne Lounge. Darick. Our argument that turned into…something else. My cheeks flush at the memory, but I quickly push it aside.

For God’s sake, Rowan, now’s not the time!

I try to sit up, my body aching in protest. Cold, rough stone scrapes against my palms as I push myself upright. The air is heavy with the scent of damp earth and mold. A cellar, maybe? Or a cave?

“Hello?” I whisper, my voice hoarse. No response, but as I strain my ears, I catch the sound of soft whimpering nearby. My heart races.

I’m not alone.

“Is anyone there?” I try again, a little louder this time. The whimpering stops abruptly, replaced by a muffled sob that sends gooseflesh rippling over my skin. This isn’t surprising, considering it’s cold here, and I’m still dressed in my impractical party girl outfit. I’ve lost my high-heeled ankle boots somewhere along the line, which seems to be the only positive thing about my situation right now. My purse is gone, too, and with it, my cell phone. My abductors would hardly leave me with a connection to the outside world. Because I have no doubt that I’ve been abducted.

“Please,” a weak voice pleads from somewhere to my left. “Help us.”

Us? How many people are down here? And who are they? My mind races with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. I open my mouth to ask another question, but a scraping sound from above silences me.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my thundering heart. Magic. I need to use my magic. It’s never been reliable before, but Heath helped me hone it, and after my encounters with Darick, I’m stronger than I’ve ever been. Maybe now, when I need it most, it’ll finally come through for me.

Closing my eyes, I focus inward, reaching for that now-familiar spark of power. But…nothing happens. My eyes snap open in panic.

“No, no, no,” I growl. I try again, picturing a small flame in my palm – a basic spell I’ve managed countless times in the past couple of days. Still nothing. Not even a flicker.

Frantically, I run my hands over my body, searching for anything that might be blocking my magic. My fingers brush against cold metal at my wrists and ankles. Chains. Too loose to restrict my movement, but clearly, they’re there for a purpose.

Of course. They must be enchanted.

“Dammit!” I curse, yanking at the restraints. They don’t budge, and the effort leaves me gasping.

“It won’t work,” the weak voice from earlier says. “We’ve all tried. The chains…they dampen our magic.”

A wave of despair washes over me. Without my magic, I’m truly helpless. I’ve always felt like a failure as a witch, but now, when I finally get some real power, it’s snatched from me when I really need it.

“There has to be a way,” I insist, more to myself than my unseen companion. I close my eyes again, trying to focus. I think of Gran, of Kara, of Mia. I need to be strong for them. I need to find a way out of here.

But no matter how hard I concentrate, that familiar warmth of magic remains frustratingly out of reach. It’s like trying to grasp smoke – I can sense it’s there, but I can’t touch it.

“Freakin’ fairy dust!” I shout, slamming my fist against the stone floor. The pain barely registers through my frustration and fear.

I close my eyes, trying to focus through the throbbing pain in my head. What happened? How did I end up here? Fragments of memory flash through my mind, disjointed and hazy.

The Nocturne Lounge. Waiting for my mysterious contact. Then…disaster.

God, you’re an idiot, Rowan.

I remember hands grabbing me, a sharp pain in my side as I was pushed through the club and then dragged into a dark hallway. There had been more of them there, waiting for me to walk straight into their very obvious trap. Vampires, definitely. Their cold touch and inhuman strength were unmistakable. But there was something else, something that didn’t quite fit.

A scent. Not the usual metallic tang I associate with vampires, but something…earthier. Almost herbal. It reminded me of Gran’s garden, but with an acrid undertone that makes my nose wrinkle even in memory.

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