Page 26 of Royal Ransom

Maverick

I only made it a few feet into the hall.

Astrid made jumping from world to world look easy, but for me, it was an effort just to open a portal, let alone step through it. Autumn chewed me up and spat me back out hastily, just like everything else. But at least I’d gotten a head start.

Cirro shouted a strange word. I couldn’t decipher its meaning, but something deep within me, the part of my DNA that came from my father, recognized it as the incantation for a violent spell. All the crows hanging on the wall suddenly frosted over with ice, turning them an eerie blue-white. Then they came to life and swarmed me.

“Shit!” I hissed and bent double, still trying to run flat out with limited success.

I swatted them aside only to get clipped by cold, sharp beaks. Soon, I was bleeding from far too many cuts on my arms. While the bites stung, it was nothing compared to the confusion of not being able to see through the swarm of dead birds. The blue-white forms surrounded me like a tornado.

One of the birds got in a lucky shot. The tip of its beak hit my brow, splitting a furrow a few inches across. A burst of crimson stung my eyes, and I flailed, cursing the whole way.

I tripped and fell on my way to the exit. By the time I reached for the handle, Cirro was standing over me, slamming it shut. Then he grabbed my hair and yanked me to my feet before shouting the strange word again. The birds immediately stopped their attack and surrounded me, treading the air while waiting for commands from their master.

I watched the sewn-on button eye of one of the crows fall off, hanging by a slimy string. While I shuddered at the sight, I refused to look up at Cirro. I wouldn’t let him see that he’dscared me. But then he pulled up on my hair, wrapping it around his knuckles before tilting my face to his eyeline. He was seething with rage.

“Well, I’ll be damned. The Queen had a point. It’s the warlock come to play. What are we going to do with you, Mr. Depraysie?” he asked, speaking more to himself than to me.

I gave him the reply he’d never asked for. I brought my knee up swiftly into his groin. Though he doubled over, he didn’t release my hair, taking me down with him. Once we were both on the ground, I jabbed my fingers into his throat, making him cough and sputter. But the bastard still didn’t let go of my hair. His hand was clenched into a tight fist, leaving me with no escape. No non-magical escape, anyway.

I racked my brain for a defensive spell, but nothing came. I was beginning to suspect that the cold of Winter had seeped through my cuts, slowing my reaction time. And even though he looked like a dandy, he was still a full Sidhe, whereas I was only a changeling. When it came to fisticuffs, that mattered.

“Get the fuck off me!” I snarled.

Cirro pinned me to the floor, pressing an arm against my throat. He was breathing heavily, a strained sound like something was rattling in his lungs. Though I struggled beneath his weight, it was no use. The cold was spreading, pulling me forcefully down toward sleep.

The last thing I saw was Cirro rearing back his fist before it collided with my face. I felt pain, a slight ringing, a splitting headache. And then, nothing but blackness.

***

I woke up tied to a table. And that was a mercy. I hadn’t expected to wake up at all.

I didn’t think it was possible to feel worse than this morning, but the ringing in my head and pain in my cheek made a strongcase for it. The rest of my skin was icy against the metal slab. I wanted to fight my restraints but feared what would happen. For instance, what if my skin stuck to the table and ripped clean off, like that kid with his tongue stuck to the pole in that Christmas movie? Maybe movie logic wasn’t the best thing to rely on in a crisis, but I didn’t have a lot of reference points for being fused to cold metal.

My eyes roved over what I could see of the room, taking in details before I could start to panic. I didn’t recognize this place from our last visit to Blood Rose. It was freezing and white, with mirrored walls and a tiled floor. Scattered around me were equipment and machines I’d never seen before, mostly boxes. The boxes beeped and whirred, making strange, disconcerting sounds.

I was still wary of a nasty surprise, but I tried to lift my head. A thick leather belt held me down by the neck, barely allowing me to shift my head an inch from side to side. I noticed the ceiling had the same patterned tiles as the floor.

Where the hell am I?I thought. That’s when I noticed I was dressed only in the boxers I’d left on under my puffy pants. That explained the chill. Of course, being this exposed made a deeper chill steal over my body, entirely separate from the room’s dank coldness. What exactly did Cirro need me undressed for?

“Ah, you’re awake,” Cirro’s voice said somewhere to my left.

I tried to turn my head to look at him, but no luck. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

“Oh, nothing,” he replied. “Yet.”

Skin be damned! I thought as I wriggled against the restraints. Luckily, I didn’t stick. I barely slid. My heartbeat skyrocketed to the point of hearing it thundering in my ears. “Not that I’m complaining, but why am I still alive?”

Cirro laughed. “Are you really so stupid that you can’t figure that out for yourself?”

“I’m freezing my nuts off over here. It’s demanding more of my attention than I’d like. Mind giving me the CliffsNotes version?”

Cirro’s laugh sounded more genuine this time. Beneath it all, he was still a man. Don’t ask me why, but many of us take perverse pleasure in watching another man’s pain, especially if it involves the genitals. I tried to squirm off the table, with no luck. He might be a slacker, but he hadn’t skipped the lessons in restraining a prisoner.

“Struggle all you like. Those restraints will still be there when you’re done.”

“Where have you taken me?”

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