image [https://i.imgur.com/jpOYNWV.png]

I came to in a haze. Nausea and dizziness assailed me through a pounding headache, my eyes watering a little. I blinked to clear the fluids. Surrounded by darkness it took me a while to register that I had a black cloth covering my head. It was hot and I could smell that I’d been stewing in it for a while.

The vague rumbling of a moving vehicle jostled me, and I alternated between bumping into someone sitting next to me on the left and what I assumed was a car frame on my right. My hands were locked together in my lap, and I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.

The fight. Zip ties.

We’d been caught. Kidnapped. Or adultnapped. Taken hostage, I didn’t know what to call it. My thoughts were sluggish and fragmented.

Sitting up straight, I breathed deeply and leaned my head backwards, trying to force the unpleasant sensation away. It didn’t work. On the contrary, moving my head around too much only worsened my symptoms—I probably had a concussion. Tanner had kicked my face pretty hard.

“You awake, Ethan?” Dink asked from my left.

He was alive. I sighed deeply.

“Yeah,” I answered curtly, my voice raspy.

Taking another deep breath, I did a quick inventory. The usual firm feeling of a phone in my pocket was gone. Right, I’d put it on the table back at Jasper’s, but they’d have removed it anyway. Shifting my shoulder, I concluded that they’d taken my holster as well. Maybe they’d left the spear or perhaps brought it with them. It was an expensive item after all. Flexing my fingers slightly I could feel the ring on my left index finger and my amulet was tucked safely against my skin. I’d secured my enforcer’s pin on the inside of my pocket, but I couldn’t reach it to check. Okay, so they hadn’t taken my jewellery, that was something at least.

My lips were dried and chapped, and I tried wetting them, but my mouth and throat were just as parched. I needed some water. Maybe that would help with my headache as well.

I briefly considered using my ring to heal up but concluded it was a bad idea since our captors would be able to feel the flow of aether. I didn’t think they’d have any compunctions cutting my finger off to get it.

“How’re you doing Dink? Last I saw you, you were pretty out of it,” I asked him after a minute.

“Two of those thugs went for me. I managed to blow one away with some air, but it wasn’t debilitating, and they came at me again. Wrong day to leave my gun in the car. One of them knocked me out with a baton. Close combat isn’t my strong suit,” he told me dejectedly.

“What about the others?”

“’Ere. Broke the neck on one and froze another. Was almost empty after that,” mumbled Rob from behind me.

“We’re here, Ethan. I could use a hand though,” Mateo said dryly from somewhere next to Rob.

I grunted sombrely before speaking, “Hey, at least the manacles won’t fit, right?”

“Hah, think again, it’s just tightened extra hard around my forearm. Bleeding’s stopped, but it friggin’ hurts.”

I could imagine. Bastards. At least we’d taken some of them down with us. Taken them down. I’d killed two people like it was nothing.

My head swam and I almost started dry heaving, but I fought it back. I did not want to throw up into this bag, or whatever it was. The images flashed before me and I took a couple of deep gulps of air to steady my emotions.

The rational part of my brain was working overdrive to assure me that it had been necessary.

Let’s hope you never get used to it.

With any luck, I could work on processing it later.

“Anyone got any water?” I asked, mostly to distract myself.

There was the sound of someone opening a bottle and the round mouth of plastic was pressed against the cloth by my mouth. I sucked the water through the fabric. It was lukewarm and tasted slightly of sweat.

It was the tastiest damn water I’d ever had, and I finished the entire bottle.

“Thanks,” I muttered reluctantly.

“You’re welcome,” Tanner replied politely, and I felt my body stiffen at the sound of his voice.

I hadn’t expected him to be back here with us.

Relax, Ethan, you’re already captured what more can he do?

Settling down and relaxing a little, I decided I might as well engage in a little conversation with him now that he was here.

I looked in the direction his voice had come from and asked him a question, “Where are you taking us?”

“I’m not telling you anything Ethan, as I’ve already said to the others,” his exasperated tone replied.

“Why are you doing this?” I decided to try anyway.

Silence.

“Did something happen to your wife?” I ventured.

A fist entered my stomach at high speed and doubled me over—gagging—some spittle leaving my lips. The water I’d just drunk threatened to come back up and I saw stars for a second. My headache protested wildly.

That. He can do that.

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But I’d touched on something there, so I felt it was kind of worth it. Pain was an old friend—one I could handle. I sat up and tried to ignore the burning sensation in my gut.

“Oi!” Rob protested behind me, “he’s already bound, there’s nothing he can do.”

“He can shut up is what he can do,” Tanner mumbled.

Was he pouting? My brow furrowed as I considered the new information. If whoever he was working for had done something to his wife, then I could at least somewhat understand his motivation. He wasn’t going to garner any sympathy points with me, however. Not after he’d cut Mateo’s hand off.

“Can we do anything about your hand, Mateo?” I asked him when I was able to speak again.

“Someone with a decent healing affinity could probably reattach it. If they’re strong enough it can be regrown. But I have a feeling it won’t be coming to that,” he finished gloomily.

Recalling Imara’s Blessing and how it had regrown my throat, I held out hope. We just needed to get out of here.

“Sorry about the hand,” Tanner provided after a second, “You’ve gotten better, Mateo, I was forced to incapacitate you to avoid a killing blow.”

Mateo grunted at the backhanded compliment but said nothing.

Tanner continued unabated, “I would’ve brought it with us. Maybe we could’ve done something and made you more comfortable, but one of the ghouls gobbled it up before I had a chance to stop it.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I said as water coated my mouth, the imagery threatening to overcome my willpower.

Tanner grumbled inaudibly before speaking, “The hood stays on. Be as sick as you want, but you’re gonna have to sit in it.”

“It was ghouls?” Dink asked, his tone aghast. “That’s low, Tanner. Whoever you’re working with should know better.”

Silence permeated the inside of the vehicle and I managed to regain control once more. My reaction probably wouldn’t have been so adverse if I wasn’t constantly on the precipice of being sick because of my concussion.

“What’re ghouls?” I asked into the quiet.

The image of the unhealthy-looking woman with her neck twisted came to mind.

Rob’s voice sounded disgusted when he answered, “Drudges who’ve been starved for too long. Reaching a point of no return they start decomposing. Doesn't matter how much they eat once they're at that stage. They go from useful minions who can think of their own, to mindless thugs. Their sire can point them from A to B, but if the instructions are unclear, they’ll wreak havoc given the chance.”

“That’s awful,” I muttered.

It meant that whoever was behind all this was probably another vampire of some kind.

“Yeap,” Rob intoned, “they lose the ability to regenerate. Still faster and stronger than regular humans and feel pain just the same. Able to use a touch of magic through the blood bond. ”

Thinking about the strength one of them had hit my spear with, I had to agree. There was another lull in our conversation, and I closed my eyes to try and stave off some of the unpleasantness again.

Between my lethargic thoughts and debilitating physical sensations, I didn’t even have the energy to ask the others about their affinities and skills. I bolted upright coming to a sudden realisation.

“Is one of the ghouls driving the car?” I asked, alarmed.

Tanner snorted in amusement.

“Hell no, we’ve got a designated driver.”

Letting out a relieved sigh I thought out loud, “That’s good. I wouldn’t want one of them driving.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Dink asked incredulously. “You’re a strange kid, Ethan.”

Hey, if they didn’t mind being hurled around inside a three-ton vehicle then that was none of my business, but I had a concussion to think about. In biology class, we’d covered what could happen to the brain in case of multiple head traumas happening in quick succession. It wasn’t pretty.

A while later, Rob broke the silence, “D’you guys think Jasper’s in on it?”

“Nah, he wouldn’t. Would he?” Dink asked in disbelief.

It was one hell of a coincidence that he'd left to go shopping and then minutes later Tanner had shown up, and I voiced it out loud.

“Jasper’s been affiliated for years. If the Board was never on board with our little mission, he'd definitely be in the best position to fake a permit,” Mateo mused.

We fell silent again, each embroiled in our thoughts. The world of magic was a fickle mistress, it would seem. I assumed that this sort of thing happened within normal criminal elements as well, but I felt a sting in my chest when I thought about the light conversations I'd had with the man when I was having breakfast. He'd seemed so affable.

The car turned sharply and then slowed gradually, before coming to a halt.

"We're here," Tanner piped up.

"Here where?" Mateo tried.

No response.

The right side of the vehicle I had been leaning against slid open and I almost fell out. A hand from the outside steadied me and helped me disembark instead. It was awkward to get out of the car and I felt helpless with my hands tied and my vision impaired. Whoever had helped me get out put a hand on my shoulder when I found my footing on the gravel, holding me in place. I felt the warm rays of the sun heating the black bag.

"Four of them? And only three of our ghilan made it back?" a man's voice asked in surprise, "I thought you said you would only be able to grab three, after your earlier failure."

"I got lucky," Tanner replied in a sour tone, "Colson left his charge to go with the investigative representatives."

The tone of his voice suggested he wasn't happy that he'd been "forced" to bring me along.

"Telephones and weapons?"

"We left the phones on site. There's a war scythe and a spear in the van. Inscribed."

"My Lord will be pleased, Tanner. You have done well," the man sounded, jubilantly.

"Yeah well, he won't be pleased if the Flame Warden finds out where we are. If he does, we're all dead."

The unknown man scoffed.

"Bah, he would not stand a chance," he boasted.

"You keep telling yourself that," Tanner told him in a tired voice.

"We don't have enough suppression collars, sir," a female voice intoned from somewhere in front of me.

I heard Mateo's sharp intake of breath at her words.

If that's what I think it is, I hope they don't put one on me.

"You only need three," intoned Tanner, "The tall one there" — he probably pointed at me — "only just started tracing out his Sigil last week. He can't draw on it yet unless he wants to cripple himself."

My palpable relief was almost instantly replaced with sympathy for the others.

"Good, we are running out of space. Put him in the refurbished storage room," the boastful man instructed.

"I'm out, I need a drink," the traitor intoned and started walking away.

"My Lord would wish to speak with you, Tanner."

The footfalls halted, "I'll be back to talk to him. Later."

"Hmph, as you say. Let us get them downstairs," he called out loud before addressing the rest of us. "Do not try anything, kine, lest we be forced to strike you down."

None of us said anything. No funny quips or scathing remarks, just silent obedience. His choice of words made me think he was old as hell. Who used the worst "kine" or "lest" these days? Or maybe he was just playing into the whole evil organisation schtick. A small hand grabbed the inside of my upper arm and I was guided forward. We eventually came to a stop and what sounded like a heavy metal door was opened, cold and damp air rushing out in stark contrast to the heat of the sun.

"Careful," a mousy voice whispered to me, "there's stairs and it's a long way down. You don't want to fall to the bottom."

Grunting my affirmation I took a tentative step down and managed to land on a step. My nausea worsened a bit but not to an unmanageable degree. The sound of several people entering an enclosed space echoed through the air as we proceeded to head down at a snail's pace. I counted to fifty-one before we evened out. It was cold and damp wherever we were, and I felt a little chilly in nothing but my T-shirt and jeans, but the cold air soothed my headache a bit. My guide continued walking and I was forced to keep up, eventually coming to a halt a short while later.

A door was opened and I was pushed gently.

"Keep still so I don't accidentally cut you," the same mousy voice told me, "and don't try anything drastic, please."

"Sure," I told her noncommittally.

She was awfully polite for an evil henchwoman and I felt the cold sensation of steel touch my left arm near the wrist. I knew her co-conspirators weren't far away, so it was a moot point to resist. A short snap of plastic later and my hands were freed. I rubbed absently at my wrists and the sound of the door closing reverberated through the silence, followed by the telling click of a lock being turned.