Maeve
I’m vibrating. I’m lying on my back, but I’m moving… which is strange. I open my eyes to darkness and an unfamiliar room with gray plastic paneling and… handles fixed to the low ceiling. An incessant rattle makes my ears ring. I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again, expecting to be back in bed in Moonrise, in my room, but I’m…. Oh, shit.
I sit up, whirling toward the man resting on a bench across from me, his arms tucked around his chest and head leaning on the wall by the tiny window overlooking a dark, never-ending forest. He slowly opens his eyes to slits. He’s holding a plastic butter knife, twisting it between his fingers as he looks at me through this thick, dark lashes.
Adrenaline cuts through the power fog weighing me down, but not enough to drag me out of the haze, not yet. I need… I need rest. I need sleep. I need something, something he has, or had. I lick my lips, holding his gaze as I debate my next move, my next words.
“I was really looking forward to sleeping tonight,” he says dryly. “Alone, I might add.”
I feel dizzy as I drag my knees up to my chest. I rest my chin atop them, barely able to hold my head up, let alone say anything, not just yet.
He smooths the dull edge of the butter knife over the pad of his thumb, his eyes locked on mine in silence.
“Were you planning on killing me with that?” I ask.
His tongue swipes across his lower lip before he smiles softly. “That would’ve been too messy, taken too long. I would have just strangled you. Snapped your neck.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure that would have saved you a lot of time.”
“I’m still debating it, so don’t do anything stupid, Princess.”
“I think you win when it comes to stupid behavior, Gloves,” I grumble, closing my eyes for just a moment.
“What did you call me?”
“Gloves,” I reply, looking at him again.
“Why?”
“Because that’s what I’ve been calling you for… three years now. Because you wear Ghost-issued gloves. Those must be stolen too, huh?”
His wry, damn near flirtatious smile works its way into my bones and makes me feel warm in a way I don’t appreciate. “You’ve been… you’ve been thinking about me? For three years?” he teases, his eyes dancing with amusement.
I growl, my upper lip curling over my teeth. “Don’t mess with me. You’re lucky I haven’t killed you yet, you son-of-a-bitch!”
“I’m starting to think you can’t.”
“Of course, I can–”
“Have you ever killed anyone before? Anyone? Stabbed someone in the heart? The back? Slit their throat? Watched their life drain behind their eyes?” He leans forward, his eyes shining in the dim light coming through the window. “I don’t think you have.”
“No one has ever dared to cross me before.”
“Well, judging by how you reacted when I so easily broke into your home and took your things, I supposed if they did cross you, they wouldn’t really suffer for it.”
My answering snarl pings from wall to wall. We’re barely three feet apart. I can smell him, smell his clothing. Two conflicting scents mingled, turning into something that seems off, wrong, not all him.
He smells like a man, like musk and sweat–like rich warmth and the promise of strength and power.
But his clothing smells like floral soap and the breeze coming off the lake in Moonrise. They don’t mix.
“Did you steal those clothes, too?”
“Of course. You beat me nearly to death. I was covered in blood. I highly doubt I would’ve been allowed on the train looking like I did when I escaped you.” He purses his lips into a mocking grin. “You need to work on that, by the way. You never leave someone you’re planning to interrogate and torture for information unsupervised.”
I grind my teeth, struggling for something sharp and witty to say in response, but my moment of hesitation only makes his smile widen.
He leans back, sighing deeply. “If I had been in your position, I would have knocked you out first. Showering right before a torture session is also kind of a waste of time, seeing as they normally involve a lot of blood–”
“Shut up!”
“I don’t have to do that. I paid for this room. You barged in and passed the fuck out in my arms. I gave you a place to land out of the graciousness of my heart.”
“Just tell me where the moonstone is. That’s all I want.”
“Why? Why is that rock so important to you?”
“It’s none of your business. I could have you arrested, you know. I know your name. I have your fucking wallet back in Moonrise will all of your fake, and highly illegal, IDs. I have your passport, dumbass! I could sick my warriors on you, and you’d never see the light of day again!”
“You could also use your powers to just end my life right now.”
“Why are you so concerned with my powers? You were pressing me to use them on you earlier. Do you have some sick, demented curiosity about death, Soren?”
“I'm awfully curious about why you’re sitting here with no shields up, knowing I could hurt you,” he replies, his voice dropping and softening just a touch. He licks his lips again, a slow motion I can’t help but follow.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“I think that’s your problem.”
I eye him wearily, trying to grasp whether or not this man is, in fact, a serious danger to me right now.
To be completely, brutally honest… I’m… I’m super disappointed. Crushingly so, actually. When I met him for the first time, in those days after all of us thought Brie was dead… those minutes spent in his quiet company had been… well, I’d needed it. Unlike my family, he hadn’t offered words of comfort to help me through my grief. He’d just stood there while we watched the news, two strangers in a tea shop.
I felt normal. I don’t think I’ve felt normal since then.
The diner had been when I wondered if…. Never mind. It’s silly. It’s stupid, really.
I lean back and fix him with a glare. “I need that moonstone, Soren. I’ll leave once you tell me where it is. I’ll leave you alone, and you can go free. You’ll never see me again.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I need it–”
“Why?” He’s so serious right now. That charming smile fades to a look of cold, brutal intensity. It’s enough to make me stiffen and seriously consider my next words. No man has ever made me feel like that before, that’s for damn sure. Soren bleeds violence. That’s the only way to describe him. I can just feel it.
And right now, I can’t feel much else.
“I used–I used all of my powers to chase down the train,” I admit, swallowing past the knot forming in my throat. “I saw you in the window as the train left the station, and shifted into a bird–”
He barks a laugh, then mumbles a half-hearted apology.
“What’s so funny?”
“You can turn into a bird?”
“Yes.”
“Did you, by chance, fly into a window earlier?” He rolls his lower lip between his teeth, biting back an amused smile.
I lean forward, scoffing. “I’m glad you find this funny, you asshole. It hurt, a lot!”
“Anyway,” he says, motioning for me to continue. “You… followed the train?”
“I used up my powers, all of them. The Moonstone–”
The train jolts, sending a rattle down its snake-like body. The power flickers, causing us both to look up at the strip of dim lights above our heads. Soren rises methodically. I can feel tension pouring off him as the train grinds to a sudden stop, and the lights go out like someone blowing out a candle. Silence settles. It’s eerie and misplaced, and my skin begins to tingle with a sense that something’s terribly wrong.
“Stand up,” he says in a near whisper.
“Why–”
“Princess Maeve, stand up.”
I bristle at his tone. “No. I was just saying that the moonstone–”
He reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls something out, thrusting his fist in my direction. The moonstone drops into my hand, but my stomach twists, then sinks, when I unfurl my fingers and…
“You broke it.” I croak, feeling like the floor of the train is caving beneath me. I smooth my thumb across a crack along the face of the smooth stone. “What did you do?”
“What are you talking about?” he hisses, his patience worn thin. “Get up right now!”
“Why?!”
A scream rips through the train. I jump to my feet, whirling in the direction of the sound. More screams and shouts of alarm, then pain, cut through the air, muffled by the door of Soren’s cabin room.
“What’s happening?” I ask, clutching the moonstone in my palm, trying to warm it, but it remains… cold, and useless.
Soren bites his lip, nodding to himself as his eyes stay fixed on the door. I’m not prepared when he grabs me by my upper arm and yanks the door open. He pulls me into the hallway, his body pressed to mine as people run in our direction, shoving past us.
Soren takes several deep breaths, his eyes locked on the door leading to the next car. I rise on my toes to look over his shoulder and see four large shadows lumbering toward us, just one car over.
“Who are they?”
“Remember how I said you shouldn’t have broken that silver band around my wrist?” he growls under his breath, then sighs. “Now’s the time to use those powers, Princess.”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?” he asks, tugging me along as he backs down the narrow corridor, away from the shadows currently ripping apart the next car.
“My powers are gone. I need time to recharge.”
“You’re fucking joking–”
“I can’t handle all of my powers at once, not yet. The moonstone stored the surplus. I could call on them, siphon my powers from it if I needed more, but you fucking broke it, and now those powers are just… out in the universe, useless to me!” I shout, shoving against him, but he keeps a tight grip on my arm, tight enough to bruise.
“So you have nothing?” he snarls. “Nothing to defend yourself with?”
“No–”
“You can’t shift?”
“I’m not a shifter! What’s happening? Who are they? What do they want?”
“Me,” he says under his breath, letting go of a long, slightly annoyed sigh that ends in a nearly silent curse when four big, ugly, vicious looking men charge into our car, and spot us.
“Soren, Soren, Soren,” their leader, I assume, says as he takes a few steps in our direction, chuckling. “The Viper’s lookin’ all over for ya. Says you broke your tether. Sent us out to find ya.”
Soren shoves me behind him, forcing me to match his steps as he backs us toward the opposite end of the car.
“I was already on my way to see her,” Soren says lightly. “Your services are unnecessary.”
“Viper says you’ve been ignoring her summons for months now,” the biggest, ugliest man I’ve ever laid eyes on says, clicking his tongue. “You’ve been a bad dog, so she sent us to find ya and bring ya home to get you back on a leash. A much shorter one this time.”
Soren smirks, shrugging. “You’re wasting your time and your breath.”
“Who’s he got behind him?” one of his companions rasps in a slithering voice that makes my skin crawl.
“Looks like we might’ve interrupted Soren and his most recent lady friend,” the leader chuckles. “Why don’t you hand her over? Let us have a turn?”
Soren goes completely, utterly still. I’m pressed against the door leading to the very back of the train. There’s nothing but tracks behind us, nothing but a steep drop off over a bridge into the woods, no nearby lights, nor lit roads, just foggy, dark nothingness.
My heart races. I’ve never felt so useless. I stretch and curl my fingers, trying to summon my powers of fire, but nothing happens, not even wisps of smoke.
“I believe I’ll be keeping this one to myself,” Soren says calmly, which surprises me. I’d think at this point he’d be happy to get rid of me, but then I feel him tap my wrist in a silent command… to what?
“Don’t make this hard for yourself, boy. You know how the Viper feels about her pups getting all tangled up with us Hounds. She wants you alive, but if you make any moves… I can’t promise you’ll make it to her in one piece.”
“Then she’d be your problem. I’m one of her best,” Soren smirks, which enrages Ugly Man and his minions. I don’t know who the Hounds are, but they must be them. “And crossing the Viper is a one way ticket to hell itself. You wouldn’t want to be caught in the Spider’s crosshairs, would you, now?”
My blood runs cold as ice as Soren’s words lace through my brain.
The Spider?
Soren works for Hannibal?
He taps on my wrist again, taking another step back to press me into the door in a silent command to open it.
“I’m done fucking around,” Ugly Man sneers. “Get em. Keep the girl alive. She’s got those long legs I like.”
I scoff, then twist the handle. Soren doesn’t waste a single second. He turns, grabs me around the waist, and leaps off the train, past the tracks, sending us into a free fall.