Page 59 of The Bookseller and the Alpha
Thirteen hours. Thirteen fucking hours. The longest hours of my life. Thirteen hours when I couldn’t feel my mate through the bond. Doc had given me a shot of something that had helped with the panic while I waited. I couldn’t stop pacing, and Sam said the growling was scaring the team. Doc was right. The sedative did help me function, but it gave me jelly legs, so I sat down. The drug gave me space to think. To help my team plan the extraction. And then when I’d heard her mental voice, the relief was so powerful that I sagged in my chair.
Then I sensed Caly’s fear when she realised she was locked in a fridge... We were going to need a new conference table for the Security office. And maybe a couple of new chairs.
But she stopped me. With one word. She flipped the switch. And then shut me out. Beast could blast the link open again, because she couldn’t hide from me ever again, but I got the message. Caly was trusting me to do my job. And I’d already let her down so badly.
The kidnappers’ demands came in while Caly was still out of contact. I was going to give them what they wanted. And they knew it. With her as hostage I would follow orders. Until Ihad her safe in my arms. But after? Using my mate as leverage. Scaring her. Drugging her. They were dead meat. All of them.
Chapter 69
Calypso
After I locked Luc out of my head, I gave myself a few minutes to pull myself together, breathing slowly in and out to a count of three. I was a prisoner but that didn’t make me helpless. I was thirty years old. I was smart. And I was a Witch. Sure, I didn’t really know what I was doing with my magic, but I had raw power. There had to be something I could do. I knew that my very own monster would be coming for me, but I didn’t want him in danger if I could get myself out. And the danger was very real.
I mean, it was obvious what they wanted. They’d been after the journal the whole time. They didn’t get it, but now they had me. And Luc would trade me for the journal.
I knew he would. He shouldn’t. They were going to use it for a terrorist attack of some sort. There was no way he should let them get their hands on that book. But I knew how Luc felt. Now that we had our bond, I finally understood the depth of his commitment to me. My safety was more important than his own. He wouldn’t bluff or arrive guns with blazing. He wouldn’t do anything to put me at risk.
If they told him to come alone with the journal, he would come alone. And he would hand over the journal.
I knew it, without a doubt. Because it’s what I would do. Which meant I had to get away before he got here. We couldn’t trust my kidnappers not to kill both of us once they had what they wanted. And we couldn’t let them have the journal.
Once I understood that, the solution was simple. I had to rescue myself. By any means possible. Before my mate sacrificed all good sense for me. And the countdown had probably started already.
No pressure.
I needed a plan. But the shivering was harder now and my body felt sluggish. The cold has seeped into my bones. Using the wall for balance I struggled to my feet. With my hands against the wall behind me, I shuffled to the left. Three steps before I hit the corner. Slowly, I crouched, fingers feeling for the shape of hinges. Nothing. Three more steps to the next corner. This time, when I crouched, my fingers found cold hinges. There was a slight loosening of the tight anxiety in my chest. I had a way out. I breathed slowly and deeply, letting the wave of panic crest and then pass. I could do this.
One step at a time. Hinges meant there was a door. It would be too much luck to find a handle—I checked just the same, but of course there wasn’t one—so I would work with what I had.
I had a door. But no mechanism to open it from this side. If I had more control, I could probably pull out the hinges, but I just didn’t have that level of finesse yet. If I ever got it. But I had power. Simon said I had a shitload of power and I’d fully demonstrated that my control was piss-poor when I was emotional.
Anger. Anger was a strong emotion.
Time to bust myself out of here.
I took a few deep breaths, sinking into my consciousness, letting go of my awareness of my surroundings. I let go of the cold and the fear.
I slowed my breathing. I needed to go deeper. I needed to gather my magic to me.
I dropped further. Into the golden lake of magic.
It took time. I didn’t know how much. Time was meaningless here. I was swimming in the golden pool. It coated my skin. It was in my mouth, my nostrils, fizzing like sherbet. If I took more I would drown in it.
I was ready.
I swam upwards, towards consciousness. Towards the cold. The fear. The ticking clock. I had to get away before Luc arrived to trade the journal.
When I reached awareness, I staggered, buzzing, like I’d had too many cups of coffee. I’d pulled so much of my magic out of myself that my skin was covered in gold glitter and I could see a soft glow around my body. Any other time I’d have thought that was cool. But not right now.
Now, I was angry.
I was angry that some assholes broke into my shop. I was angry that they broke into my home, hurt Sam, hurt me. Angry that they blew up Luc’s car and injured his leg. I was angry that they made me feel afraid.
I’d had enough. Time to do something about it.
Chapter 70
Luc
