Page 12 of Hidden

“Where’s Father?” she asked. “He needs to know about this.”

“He wasn’t able to come,” Galeeta replied. “I’ll tell you about that later.”

That wasn’t unusual—as close as they were, her parents pursued very different interests. They had been a love match and remained that way through five children and as many centuries. Gareth and Galeeta. Galeeta and Gareth. Together when it counted, but very much their own independent personalities.

“But you’ll contact him?” Lila persisted.

“Absolutely,” Galeeta said lightly. “Just as soon as I can.”

Lila drew closer to the bed, her fingers trailing along the edge of the silken comforter. Ademar remained still, only his slow, steady breath showing he was anything but an effigy. She reached out, aching to touch her brother, to draw reassurance from the warmth of his skin. Galeeta seized her wrist, but softened the gesture by folding Lila’s hand in her own.

“He needs to sleep.” Galeeta caught her lip in her teeth, an oddly vulnerable expression.

Lila squeezed her mother’s hand. “Perhaps you should, too.”

Her mother’s thin slice of a smile spoke volumes. “These are complicated times. Sleep is a luxury I haven’t enjoyed much lately.”

“I have questions. A lot of them.” Lila met her mother’s clear gaze. “And not just about that wolf. Who or what are those guards of yours? And why was Ademar the one waiting for Lord Teegar?”

Galeeta paused, clearly choosing her words. “Trust me, your brother was doing his duty.”

“Is that all you’re going to say? He bespelled a captain of the Royal Guard.”

Raising her free hand, Galeeta brushed her fingers over Lila’s cheek. “I promise to tell you everything I know, but first I need you to do something for me.”

Lila hesitated, torn between the desire to help and her instinctive caution. Since she’d arrived, four people had been left unconscious. A sensible person would leave. “What do you need?”

Her mother slipped a hand into the pouch at her waist and drew out a plastic fob that looked incongruous against the silk and gems of her robe. “First, beware of using magic in the underground levels of this building. The area is warded against intruders, and most spells will not work or will work in an unpredictable fashion. Some might trigger a dangerous counterattack.”

Lila digested this in silence, unease knotting the muscles in her back. “And that fob?”

“It opens the doors confining our unexpected guests. There is also a key code I will give you. The doors lock automatically, so you do not need either to close them again.”

Lila remained still, unsure how to react. She’d been a guard and made her share of arrests, but those had been partygoers with a skinful of wine. This was something far darker. “You have cells here? In a way station?”

Her mother’s gaze strayed from Lila to Ademar and back. “Find out what the wolf was doing here. We may as well get answers before we make the beast pay for hurting your brother.”

The air in the room seemed to thicken as Lila studied her brother’s still figure. The scar on his cheek was livid against his extreme pallor. In her mind’s eye, she saw fangs rending flesh all over again. Bright blood spilled on the black and white floor.

Before she formed a conscious thought, Lila grasped the fob.

CHAPTER 4

Rafe woke up in human form, every muscle pulsing with a slow, languid ache. His mouth watered, gagging on the burnt-toast aftertaste of magic and fae blood. It was like licking the inside of a dirty oven sprayed with air freshener.

Reluctantly, Rafe opened his eyes. He was greeted by walls and a dim overhead light—a bare bulb caged and recessed into the ceiling. He sat up slowly, half-expecting restraints. There were none, but one side of the room held a steel door. He was in a cell. Alone.

It didn’t surprise him that they’d separated him and Izetta, but a sick worry gelled in his gut. Vampires—who inspired much fear and little compassion—did not fare well as prisoners. More often than not, they starved or became a science experiment.

Rafe rolled to his feet, stumbling as his muscles got over being knocked out cold. Shifters normally healed when they changed, but the spell that brought him down wasn’t a normal injury. His back felt like trolls had been line dancing along his spine.

Then he started to shiver. He was naked—he’d shed his clothes before shifting in the kitchen—and the cell was frigid. Fortunately, someone had dumped his abandoned garments in the corner.

He dressed as fast as he could, hopping as he pulled on his socks. His pockets were empty. Someone had taken everything—from his wallet and phone to the ointment that protected him from fae illusions. They’d even taken his snack pack of beef jerky. That was just petty.

As he dressed, his predicament sank in yet deeper. He was alone and imprisoned in fae territory—just one more wolf who had disappeared in this valley. He looked around at the blank walls, realizing they weren’t concrete but some sort of iron-hard wood. Exactly what was this place?

A cold fist gripped his gut, making his heart pound and his breath go shallow. Rafe leaned against the wall, allowing the fear to pass through his flesh like the insubstantial thing it was. He didn’t do cages well—not one bit—but right now, he had no choice but to cope. He sucked in air, held it, and let it go slowly, willing his pulse to slow. He had to think. He had to live, escape, and crush the vermin who was preying on his pack.

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