Page 8 of Taken By Raider Kings
What had hedoneto her?
The taste in her mouth, Sophie realized, was blood.She’d bitten a kidnapper hard enough to break the skin.
God help me.Oh God help.What are they going to do to me?
“Kyle’s dead?Really dead?”The very young male voice again, nearly breaking halfway through each question.“What will we do?”
The man holding her sagged slightlly.His arms were still iron, though, no betraying looseness to exploit.“I’m working on it.For right now we’re driving, and we’re going to get the hell out of Dodge with our new shaman.”His grasp loosened fractionally—not enough to wriggle, but maybe she could breathe again.“Now.What’syourname, honey?”
The blood smeared over her mouth crackled as cooler air hit it.Sophie took a deep breath, filling her lungs to the floor, and screamed.
He silenced her almost instantly, bleeding palm sealing her mouth once more.“All right, we’ll do it the hard way.Head south, Eric.Don’t stop for a while.What’s the take?”
Immediately, the two on the bench seat began digging in pockets.The boy wore a denim jacket and the girl rummaged in her shirt—no, her bra, producing an impressive roll of bills.
“Good pickings,” the boy said, his eyes glowing in the dimness.Slickness glittered on his cheeks—tears, maybe?
The girl bit her lip, trembling, fingers jittering as the money fanned out.She threw the rest of the cash down as if it burned her fingers.
“Kyle…” The driver sighed.Banged his fist sharply on the wheel, once.“What about his body?”
Body?Sophie tried pitching away from the kidnapper holding her.No luck.
“He died in battle.Themajirwill take him home.”Har captor didn’t even have the grace to pretend he noticed her trying to squirm free.Her nose was full, plus the blood and spit smeared across her mouth was a pretty effective gasket.Her lungs burned, throat crawling with that awful slickness.
She’d tasted blood before, plenty of times.It always made her sick and light-headed, bracing for the next punch and hoping Marc would run out of steam soon.The past threatened to close over her head, black water swallowing an exhausted swimmer.Her ribs heaved, panic attack looming.
Come on, Sophie.You have to think, you have to do something!
But she literally couldn’t get any air with his hand over her mouth and her nose blocked, and the blackness was so awfully thick.
Then, thank God, he eased up a little.“Be nice and quiet, shaman.Take a deep breath.”
Shaman?What the hell?She sucked in a scant ration of cool, blessed air.The panic retreated, with a vicious little thump under her breastbone promising eventual, inevitable return.
Her eyes were adapting, the shadowed interior revealing itself bit by bit.The cluttered van smelled of musk and fast food, and with each mile slipping away under the tires she was farther and farther away from Lucy’s car—and Lucy’s body.The police and ambulances would arrive, but nobody would know she’d been out with her friend.
If she could just escape, get to a phone, something, anything…
What did these peoplewantwith her?She was a nobody.
At least,nowshe was.
Marc?Maybe.He had money.But why would he want her kidnapped?He’d want something far more personal.Oh, yes, he would.
Unless… were they taking her to him?
Oh, please, kill me.If they were dragging her to see him, it was all over.
“I’ve got almost eight hundred, I think,” the driver said.“Could be more or less, I wasn’t keeping close track.”
“We’ll drive for a while, then stop for food.”The guy holding her braced them both easily as the van took a sharp turn, accelerated, and settled into a higher hum.“We’re on the freeway now, sweetheart.Just be nice and easy.You’re safe.”He let up on her mouth, but his fingers still rested on her cheek, clearly ready to gag her again.The wet warmth fogging her glasses was tears, she discovered.Her entire face was damp, her nose running, blood smeared around her mouth.Did getting kidnapped and half suffocated make a person drool?
The embarrassment, theshamewas almost worse than the fear.Almost.
I’ve gone insane.It’s the only explanation.
“Please don’t hurt me.”Much to her surprise, she sounded fairly steady.Her tank top—Lucy’stank top—was all rucked up, a slice of her bare back resting against the kidnapper’s T-shirt.He was so warm, and the van was heating up as well, engine working hard.Her naked legs prickled with gooseflesh.
