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CHAPTER ONE
“Rhysand,” Bryce uttered his name quietly while staring at him. His face became curious as he tilted his head looking at her. The stars in his eyes seemed to flutter around. How hard had she landed to be seeing stars in someone’s eyes?
Then, she felt it. Like leaving the window open on a summer night, there was a night breeze that swept around her, tingling her scalp. She jolted up, alarming everyone in the room. “Fuck!” She swallowed what felt like rocks. “I didn’t-” She started, “Get out of my head!”
A flicker of intrigue crossed Rhysand’s face as he coolly angled his head the opposite direction before eyeing a few of the people in the room. The painted female just vanished. Teleported, Bryce realized. They could do that like she could. Rhysand must have powers like Ruhn if what she felt a second ago was what she was now fearing it was. The two demon winged males now stood on either side of the room. The pretty female leaned against the doorway, looking nearly bored. How could she be bored? She must not understand the language to know what Bryce was saying.
“Bryce Quinlan, you have arrived in my home, my territory. I am High Lord of the Night Court-”
“I don’t care! I mean, I meant to go to Hel.” She dragged out, hoping it would click and she could be on her way. “I need Prince Aidas!”
“There is no ‘Prince Aidas’ here. As you are in my lands now, whether you meant to be or not, it is my duty to protect them. Now, Miss Quinlan, either you may answer my questions here or you will do so elsewhere.” She felt that brush of night turn cold around the base of her skull.
“I… Midgard,” Bryce cleared her throat. “My world is in grave danger. The fucking Asteri are eating our magic and I was trying to get to Hel, another planet, where Prince Aidas is expecting me.” Not the whole truth and certainly not everything as she wasn’t going to admit to having the Horn in her back, but maybe bits of the truth would convince them to help send her on her way. Gods, she couldn’t even begin to think what was happening to Hunt right now.
The painted female returned with a stunning blonde. Something about her seemed familiar but she would remember if she met this fae before. Bryce couldn’t quite place it but it felt like the room eased with her arrival. This had to be the world that kicked out the Asteri. The powers they effortlessly used. Again, she wondered how hard she hit her head when she got a mouthful of grass.
“Miss Quinlan, this is my mate, High Lady of the Night Court.” He gestured to the beautiful paint flecked fae. “And this is The Morrigan. She will know if you are telling the truth, so be sure about what you say before we proceed.” Rhysand calmly stated like he wasn’t making Alpha-hole threats.
She sucked in a breath to go on when the first golden haired fae jumped forward, pointing at Bryce’s chest. The damn eight pointed star was dimly glowing and flared slightly when the fae female stepped closer. Rhysand shot out his arm to stop her from moving any closer. The whole room was staring at her chest. She shot her hands up to cover the damned built-in flashlight when the short one asked, “What is that?”
Bryce didn’t want to answer. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment and she wished Hunt were there to fly her home. The thought of him again cracked something in her and she fought the welling urge to cry.
“My gods damned light. It does this,” She lifted a hand and gestured to the dimming light, thank fuck. “Sometimes. I don’t know why.”
Rhysand looked to the one he called Morrigan. She nodded. Shit. She must really be a lie detector test. Bryce would have to be very careful of her answers so they’ll send her on her way to Hel.
“Nesta,” the short female gestured next to her, to the one that pointed at her a moment before. “Wants to know how you got that light.”
Well fuck. She racked her brain for how to explain this in the least amount of words without saying anything she didn’t want to give away. “The Asteri, our monster overlords that eat our magic, force us to make The Drop. It’s a whole thing that allows us to access our magic if we give up some of it, First Light. After I made The Drop, this was on my chest. They were the same monsters that used to eat your magic here before you apparently kicked them out. They’re still pissed, by the way.”
Alarming looks quickly flashed between Rhysand, Amren, and Morrigan. It was Morrigan that stepped forward and asked, “The Asteri, as you call them, are from our world?”
“Yes. Just before I came here, I learned the truth about them. They live forever and live off of the magic of worlds. Somehow your world got rid of them and I need to get to Hel so they can help me do the same for mine. I took a picture but you don’t seem to know my language…” She trailed off, pulling out her phone from her back pocket.
Faster than possible, she was face first on the rug. Her phone was gone from her hand. “Hey! What the fuck?” Bryce yelled. Looking back, she could half see the blue stone demon- was he still a demon if this wasn’t Hel? He had her pinned and had discarded her phone across the floor. It was barely visible in a bubble of whirling darkness. The darkness seemed to trickle off of him like how Cormac’s did.
Now that he was much closer, there was a humming. It felt like the buzzing of hundreds of bees in the air. His movement had brought the Starsword closer to the dagger he had dropped.
The short female shouted at him and he was back across the room, dagger with him. Bryce lurched towards her phone in the panic but a foot came down right in front of her chipped pink nails. Gods, how could something so small like a messed up manicure make her want to fist her fingers to hide it at a time like this?
“I think it’s time we tried something else here, Miss Quinlan.” The High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand, reached down and grabbed her wrist before gusts of darkness and night swallowed them whole.
CHAPTER TWO
A wet popping noise sounded before Ruhn cried out, panting rapidly. Hunt tried to look over but his face was so swollen, he couldn’t see much. That must have been a bone pulled out of place.
“Ah, no, no, no, no!” Ruhn screamed and screamed and wet, thick clicking went on, then silence.
“Oh don’t ruin the fun by losing consciousness now.” Pollux crooned. His steps splashed through the piss, blood, and vomit as he circled around them. They hung by thick chains around their wrists up to the stone ceiling. Hunt’s feet barely touched the ground, he thought he might lose his hands soon if he was kept up like this much longer. As if the thought had summoned the action, Pollux released the chains and they all crashed into the puddles of bodily fluids.
Baxian started retching and that only attracted Pollux to him. He pulled out a small dagger and rammed it into the right stub on Baxian’s back. Right into where he had cut off his wing. Baxian screamed, body arching and convulsing. Pollux pulled the dagger back out and Baxian stopped moving. Blood streamed out of the wing stub, streaking red through the brown liquid he lay in. Baxian moaned but Hunt could tell he wasn’t conscious anymore. Not in the sense that mattered to the male towering above them.
“Hmm, I think a burger and a cold beer would be lovely right about now. What do you think, boys?” Pollux kicked Hunt’s shin. “Yeah, I’ve earned that. Nothing builds an appetite like the fun I’ve had today. Don’t worry though, I’ll come back to read you a bedtime story.”
Metal slammed against metal as the cell closed behind Pollux on his way out. Hunt couldn’t get up. He couldn’t remember if it was his own vomit his face currently lay in or Baxian’s. The Hind, Lidia Cervos, had been in that morning to weigh in on how their day was to go. It started with plucking all of the feathers in their wings off. Ruhn had lost all of his finger and toe nails in place of feathers. Then Pollux wanted to see what would happen if he tried to roll up their wings. When that didn’t go as he had hoped, he cut them off. He had just been popping Ruhn’s joints in and out when he came to again. Any time any of them tried not to scream, they got a wooden rod to the face.
“Eight iron bars, two steps, stone floor.” Ruhn wheezed out. His blinks were heavy as he tried to focus. Three things, Hunt had told them the first night. They needed to identify three things around them to help themselves out of the pain fog. It was how he was able to come back to himself after each time he had a visit in his years of captivity.
Baxian stirred on the other side of Hunt, then started heaving. There was nothing left in his stomach at this point to heave up. Maybe blood, but nothing else.
Hunt shifted his knees to his stomach. The movement splashed the liquid under him towards his face. He was glad his nose was broken and full of clotted blood so he couldn’t smell the foulness of what he lay in. He couldn’t use his back, any movement sent shockwaves of pain that had him splaying back out down into the filth.
“Vomit, blood, and… a finger? Who lost a fucking finger?” Baxian hoarsely called out from his place on the floor. “Ah fuck. That was my fucking finger.”
Hunt huffed a laugh. It wasn’t funny, nothing about their situation was funny, but the fact that they were to a point where they weren’t sure whose body part was floating in their filth around them and they had to question it..? They needed to get out of here. It had been six days. The first day, they were all chained up and just left in here. The second was the questions and beatings started. The third day, they started to get more strategic with their violence. Now, it was like they didn’t care for answers and were seeing how long until they broke.
“Hunt, three.” Ruhn rasped. “Come on.”
Though he remained conscious the longest right now, he hadn’t spoken. He knew he needed to. They all needed it. “Well, there’s not much in this gods damned cell.” Hunt shifted, groaning in pain. “I see one leg sideways, about two dozen feathers, and four fingernails.”
“Too bad those won’t pop on like Byrce’s nails.” Ruhn mused. That earned a wry smile from Baxian.
“Even if they did, at least you still have all of your fingers at the moment that you could have popped ‘em on!” Baxian joked. Hunt knew these conversations were all to save them from slipping into a place they wouldn’t return but at the mention of her name… He couldn’t help but fear for her. He would stay here for as long as they’d keep him alive if it meant she was safe.
CHAPTER THREE
Declan and Tristan knew they were in deep shit. When they called Fury Axtar and Jesiba sent a car for them. It was bad. They hadn’t known who else to call, what to do, when they watched those final moments unfold. They got out as fast as they could and waited at a pub. When Tristan brought up the sprites, Jesiba made sure to get them too. Holstrom, however, was too far on his own path.
The sun streamed through the gauzy, white curtains. Tristan wanted to step out on the veranda but Jesiba had them under strict orders to stay clear of the windows. They could bask in the breeze from within the room or not at all, she had threatened.
It was odd and unnerving to see Jesiba and Fury together. Both held a presence unlike anything else. Jesiba was in control and nonchalantly handled every little thing. Fury seemed slightly irritated and something else neither Tristan or Declan could place. Nor did they truly want to if it meant being oblivious for their safety.
“Downstairs. Bottom level. Box everything that won’t bite you and have the sprites nearby if something does try to bite.” Jesiba called as she strode through the kitchen to the espresso machine. “Now.”
Both of them jerked to their feet and quickly crossed the ornate tile flooring to the stairs. Tristan paused to grab the tablet and sprites from the dining table. The three hopped on his arm without a fuss. Five levels down they reached their starting point. Crates had already been prepared. The room was set with rolls of bubble wrap and packing tape. If packing boxes were how they owed Jesiba for her protection, they would take it.
Fury perched on the steps, taking in the room. “Be nice to those books.”
“I know I prefer my tech,” Declan said. “But I’m not a fool.”
“Hmm.” Fury hummed like she disagreed. “I’m taking off. I’ll be back tonight. Stay out of trouble.”
“Thanks, mom.” Tristan said mockingly, earning an eye roll from Fury. Declan paled and stared at his friend. Bold move to jab at her. The sprites had quieted their commentary on Fangs and Bangs to listen.
“Tristan!” Declan hissed.
One side to Fury’s mouth curved upwards and they could have sworn something swirled in the black depth of her eyes. Then she was gone.
“I know being cooped up isn’t fun, but I’d rather not find out if Fury eats fae.” Declan heaved a box down into a crate.
“I’m sorry. I just- I’m trying not to think about what those bastards are doing to Ruhn. Gods, I can’t even begin…” He trailed off, hanging his head down as he leaned over a crate. Declan stepped around the packing materials and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
Silver lined Declan’s eyes. He took a shaky breath and lifted his chin, “We aren’t helping him like this. Jesiba told us she would let us know when she knew something. We can’t go pick him up like some lost puppy at a shelter, Flynn.”
“I know, I know. I just wish we could do something.” He sighed, turning to grab more books from the shelves behind them. “What the fuck?”
“What?” Declan spun around to face him.
Tristen lifted a book in his hands.
He held a worn leather book with the female form of Ruhn wielding the Starsword on the cover. Arched around it were strange symbols. It wasn’t his mother, Lorin, but damn it was close.