Page 99 of Laurels and Liquor

“I’m nothing like you,” I snap, my mouth working before my brain.

Seth throws his head back and laughs like I’ve told the world’s funniest joke. He even wipes away a fake tear from his eye. My facade slips for a moment as my irritation with his theatrics surges, not that he notices. I manage to slip back into the role of frightened victim before he looks back at me, shaking his head.

“It’s so cute how naive you are, little omega. You think those alphas give a shit about you? That’s a laugh and a half. But you’ll find out how right I am soon enough,” Seth says, taking another couple of steps toward me.

There’s a strange, wavering pulse of satisfaction from Mateo, like he’s just eaten a meal and wants to collapse into a food coma.He’s trying to guess.I send back a hard denial. I’m not at a restaurant, and he needs to figure that out. But something’s off with the connection, almost like interference.

“Something wrong?” Seth questions with mock innocence.

He’s within arm’s reach of me now, and in the harsh beam of the work light, the work he’s had done is even more obvious, and it is not pretty. Before, he’d been muscular and overly tanned, but I could see the appeal in him. He wasn’t my type by any stretch of the imagination, but he had been undeniably attractive in a conventional sort of way. But now, with his too-big lips and almost beak-like nose, all of that appeal is lost. His clothes are tight in strange places, and his scent is all wrong. Harsh, sour limes and the sickly-sweet rot of fruit surround us, blocking out everything else. And when he leans down, bracing one arm against the back of the chair so our faces are level, I have to swallow back a cough.

“Your bonds feel strange, don’t they, little omega? Like you can’t quite hold on to them?” Seth asks, eyes boring into mine.

I swallow, but don’t answer. Real fear pulls at me now. What has he done to me? I try to find my bond with Mateo again, but it keeps sliding through my mental grasp. Seth chuckles, a low, dangerous noise that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

“That’s how it was for me. First this, then the pain starts. Days of soul-shredding agony, alone except for those fuckers Alex hired to make sure the drugs worked,” Seth goes on, the lightness and mocking energy gone and replaced with pure hatred and malice.

My stomach sinks as his words register. The drugs. The bond breakers. I squirm in my seat, as if I can outrun whatever chemicals he’s pumped into my body. Seth only laughs again, and then his hand is around my throat, squeezing until I can hardly breathe.

“While I’d love to watch you go through that minute by minute, I’m afraid we don’t have that sort of time at our disposal. So, let’s pick up the pace, shall we?” he gloats.

I want to fight, but between his hand on my throat and my bindings, I can only wiggle a few inches. Not enough to escape him. I can’t even beg or plead, not with my air cut off like this. I watch in horror as he pulls out a syringe of clear liquid from behind his back, pushing the plunger until a little comes out of the sharp tip.

“Getting one dose of this shit felt like getting dragged behind a horse through the pits of hell. Three doses… well, I almost feel bad for you. Almost,” he comments all too casually.

In the movies, the moments before something dramatic happens to the hero always occur in slow motion. We get to see the knife sailing through the air, or the bullet racing toward its target. But in reality, there’s no special effects department granting me extra time to shout or beg or cry. One moment, I’m staring at the silver flash of the needle above me. The next, a stab of pain in my arm. Seth shouts triumphantly as he pulls the syringe away, stepping back to admire me like a painting he’s just completed.

I’m frozen, my heart pounding even as I will it to slow, to not spread the drugs through my system, but nothing can stop biology. The bond breaker hits me like a wave crashing on the shore, inexorable and crushing. I scream, my chest exploding with fire. I can see the bonds above me, like strands in a spider’s web. Gold and blue and crimson and even a faint violet, stretching off into the darkness around me. I sob, full body cries as, one by one, the threads snap and break. First violet, fading away as the others connecting him to me fray further and further. Then gold, my sweet summer light winking out. Then crimson, my lifeblood and passion, then lastly blue, the one who helped me love again after I’d lost all hope. They’re gone, and I’m left hollow, my heart bleeding.

“You can cry all you want, little omega, but it won’t change a thing. By the time any of your precious alphas find you, it’ll be too late. Your bonds will be broken, and with any luck, you’ll never be able to bond again. Then you’ll see. You’ll see how Pack Saint Clair treats people who’ve outlived their usefulness,” Seth crows, voice rising to nearly a shout.

I shake my head, dropping my chin to my chest as I struggle again. I need to run, need to get out of here. But my head is a mess, full and empty, and my eyes struggle to focus on anything. My hair whips around my face as I look around frantically, but all I can see are shadows moving just beyond the circle of light.

“Please, help me!” I scream, desperate and frantic.

“There’s no one here but us, at least for now. Though, I’m sure we’ll have company soon enough. I have some souvenirs to deliver to some mutual friends. Why don’t you hang tight, and I’ll go wait for them out front?” Seth drawls.

The shadows, dozens of them now, dance around behind the sheets of plastic, disappearing as thunder booms overhead. There’s a rustle of plastic, and then I’m alone. I look down at my ankle and yelp as the floor falls out from under me, and I’m hurtling down. I screw my eyes closed and brace myself, but I take a deep breath, and a hint of dark chocolate comes to my nose. Rhett.

No. This isn’t real. I’m not falling. I’m on the ground. Tied to a chair.

When I open my eyes, the world is right again, and a quick glance confirms that I am alone. Seth left me alone. Now’s my chance!

I take another steadying breath and try to calm my racing heart. One step at a time. I can do this. First, get free of the rope. I twist my wrists around as much as I can, pushing away the errant thought that the fibers suddenly feel like snake scales. No, it’s just rope. I’ve been tied up before, not even that long ago. Rhett taught me how to escape ties like this. I slide my arms up and down against each other, working the loops of rope as far down my hands as I can until I can get my thumb under one and yes! I can get it over my knuckles, and the whole tangle suddenly comes loose enough for me to break free.

A few quick tugs later, and I have my ankles untied and I’m up out of the chair, looking around. I need to find an exit, and fast. But the world rocks under my feet and I fall to one knee, trying not to vomit. I have to close my eyes, but suddenly my head is full of whispers. Voices familiar and foreign overlap, no words able to be heard above the cacophony. Laughter, they’re laughing at me because I can’t even get to my feet. I have to try. I can’t stay here. Move!

I grunt a yell as I push myself up, staggering forward until I run into a support pole, and then I cling to it like a lifeline. I look around, and I gasp as I see my brother, Jason, standing on the other side of the cleared area from me.

“What the hell! How long have you been there?!” I shout, pushing off and charging at him.

He doesn’t speak, just turns and walks away, pushing through a gap in the plastic. I jog the last couple of steps to catch up, but as I pull back the sheet I saw him walk through, I’m met with empty darkness. No sign of him.

“Jason! Where are you?” I shout, taking a step forward but thinking better of it. I don’t need to chase him, I need to get out of here.

I turn back around, trying to sort through the pudding in my brain to remember which way the doors are, only to see Lex sitting in the chair I escaped from. She’s perched imperiously, like the queen she is, staring straight ahead. I stumble in my haste to go to her, my knees cracking hard on the concrete, and I crawl the last few feet. But as I reach out, her eyes slide to mine, and she disappears in a cloud of smoke.

I’m hyperventilating now, and I can only collapse to my hands and knees, trying to get my mind under control. What is happening to me? My throat is too tight for me to cry out, to try to call for help again, and I watch as my tears splash onto the plastic under me. A footstep makes me freeze, and out of the corner of my eye, I see a shape getting closer. What visions has my mind brought out to haunt me this time?

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