Tish POV
My head is pounding like I am waking up from a night of drinking, but I don't remember drinking a drop. I groan loudly as my eyes flutter open, but I am met with darkness. The memories of the Uber driver and the SUV come flooding into my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again, hoping for a different view when I reopen them. But it is not different. It wasn't a terrible dream.
As my eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, I can see a cement ceiling above me. Tilting my head to the side, a piercing pain shoots through my head. As I try to sit up, a wave of nausea washes over me. I barely roll off the side of the cot before I empty my stomach all over the floor.
"Well, that is gross," a feminine voice comes from the other side of the room.
I wipe the vomit from my mouth with the back of my sleeve and look in the direction of the voice. There is a single dim light hanging in the middle of the room, but the woman sticks to the shadows. I manage to sit up, but my head is still spinning.
"Who are you, and what do you want with me?" I call into the darkness.
The woman sighs loudly and steps from the darkness into the light. My voice hitches in my throat. It can't be. I squint at the woman, trying to get a better look. Her long black hair is pulled neatly behind her neck, and her dark eyes seem to glow in the darkness. She is the spitting image of Francesca.
"It is impossible," I whisper. "You are supposed to be dead."
A growl rumbles in her chest, but she quickly composes herself. "You have me mistaken for my mother," she says curtly. "I am Phoebe. The new leader of the recusants."
I snort with laughter and instantly regret my decision as more vomit rises in my throat. I choke it down and glare through the darkness. "Aren't you like fifteen?"
Phoebe snarls, and spit runs from the corner of her delicate mouth. "I am eighteen," she informs me. "But that doesn't stop me from running things."
"How did you convince a bunch of unruly mutts to follow you after your mother failed?" I ask, but Phoebe crosses her arms over her chest and grumbles at me. "Seriously, I really want to know," I joke.
"It was rather easy," she chirps. "My mother taught me everything she knew. I have been planning to take over for her for a few years."
"Well, that's just perfect for you," I groan. "What does that have to do with me?"
Phoebe comes forward and stands in front of me. She is nervous. I can tell. "You are here because you pledged your life to the recusants, and you have been deemed a traitor."
"Am I your first prisoner?" I ask.
Phoebe's fists ball up at her sides, and she takes several sharp breaths. She is desperate to maintain her composure so she looks like a true leader, but I can see the cracks in her façade. She is just a scared little girl. This isn't the life she saw for herself.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" She asks.
"I pledged my life to your mother," I shrug. "Your mother is dead. I don't owe you a fucking thing."
"You took a blood oath," Phoebe replies in a shrill voice. "You belong to us."
"Did I?" I smirk. Phoebe doesn't know as much about her mother's organization as she thinks she does.
"All familiars are forced to take a blood oath," Phoebe says confidently.
"Interesting," I say, inspecting my fingernails. "I didn't. Jameson vouched for me, and that was enough for your mother."
"Let me see your hands," she screams.
I hold my palms out for her to see. They are void of any scars, proving that I did not take a blood oath. Phoebe grabs my hands and inspects them closely. She huffs loudly and shoves my hands away from her.
"It does not matter," she replies. "You can pledge yourself now."
"No, thank you," I reply sweetly. "I have switched sides."
"Yes," she growls. "I have heard about your mates." Her voice is dripping with disdain.
"You know them?" I ask sarcastically.
Fire seems to burn in Phoebe's eyes. For some reason, the twins seem to be a sore subject for her.
"Before my parents were ruined by the Luna Queen, they were to be my mates," Phoebe tells me. "It was arranged from my birth. You are living the life I should have had."
"Oof," I grunt. "That has got to be hard for you to watch. A weak human getting everything you have ever wanted."
"I never said I wanted that life," Phoebe snaps at me.
"No," I sigh. "But it is written all over your face. How does it make you feel to know that I have had sex with them? Both of them. At the same time. It was very fun. Possibly the best sex of my life."
Phoebe's false exterior cracks, and she slaps me across the face. "You will never be fit to be Luna of my pack."
My hand cups my cheek instinctively, but I don't let her slap shut my smart mouth. "I wasn't aware you were still part of the South Pack."
"You are a wretched bitch, and you will pay for what happened to my mother," she screams.
"Your mother picked a fight with the wrong bitch," I laugh. "If the recusants thought Mae was going to roll over and play dead, you had another thing coming. But I see several of you have already fucked around and found out."
Phoebe raises her hand to strike me again, but she lowers her hand slowly and backs away from me. "I will give you some time to think about your position here," she tells me.
"I will think about having sex with my mates," I shout back at her.
"You should watch how you speak to me," Phoebe says in return. "I am the only thing standing between you and the wolves waiting outside."
"Let them come for me," I shout at her. "I am tired of this world anyway."
Phoebe growls in frustration and exits through a trapdoor in the ceiling. Slamming my fists into the thin mattress of the cot, I scream several cuss words to make myself feel better. Now, I have to figure out how to get out of here.