I can’t believe what is happening.
The man tugs me again toward the door, and I stumble while my world flashes before me.
“Come on! Come on!” he says, aggravated. “It’ll be less painful if you stop fighting me.”
“You don’t want me!” I shout. “I’m nothing. Just an ordinary!” It’s the lie on all my social work documents, the one I tell every day. An ordinary—a person born into the magical world, but who presents no magic themselves.
The stranger hesitates for a second and glances at Murray for reassurance. I take the chance to slam my sneaker into his leg. He growls, flashing fangs at me in warning. “She’s more trouble than your debts are worth, old man.”
With those words, all my thoughts of this being about Sir Surchion and the orb vanish, and I’m smacked in the face with the truth of what’s happening. Murray—the man who's supposed to take care of me, the one who’s been responsible for me for years—is bartering me away in his place. As payment for his debts. He’s sold furniture and other belongings to pay off his dues, let us go hungry and cold when he gambled away his paycheck—but this is a new low, even for him.
I twist toward him. “How could you do this to me?” Rage unlike any I’ve ever felt before pushes through me. My entire body shakes with the force of it. “How could you!”
I’ve never been anything more than an object to him. He never cared at all, did he?
His face is two shades paler, but not even the sorrow glinting in his eyes can bring me pity for him. “Aria, just do as he says. It’ll be easier—”
I snarl at him like a caged animal, and he jumps back. Sayah stirs from my anger, rustling inside my chest and wanting out, but I can’t reveal her. Not yet. I’m not even sure what she can do to help me now. This is a man, not a dog; he wouldn’t be distracted by a measly shadow.
“Are you sure she isn’t an ordinary?” the man asks cautiously, wanting to be sure.
Murray nods. “She has a temper, but she might be of use.” His voice trembles. I can’t believe I ever felt sorry for him when his wife left him. “Don’t let her fool you.”
“Have you ever seen her use her power?” the stranger pushes. “What is she, then?”
“I’m not sure exactly, but she’s powerful. Trust me.”
The mention of my power baffles me. No one knows about Sayah. She’s a secret I’ve kept all my life. From everyone.
He has to be lying—trying anything he can to get out of his deal. There’s no way he knows about my shadow.
“She’s a very pretty girl. I’m sure they’ll find something to do with her.” The white-haired man laughs.
Disgust curls in my stomach at his suggestive words. They’re going to serve me up like meat. Make me a meal or a slave or....
How could Murray do this to me?
I should have run away when Joseline left, like I'd wanted to. Why had I listened to her and stayed?
The man’s long nails bite into my arm. “Stop fighting me, girl!”
One more glare at Murray and tears well in his eyes. As I continue to do everything I can to resist my captor, shoving against him and kicking him, the man grunts and reaches over. I respond too slowly as he presses two fingers to the curve of my neck.
The voice in my head bellows again. “Beewwaarreee!”
“Enough of this!” There's a sharp pinch, and heat floods me. Suddenly, darkness rushes forward, feathering the edges of my eyes, and I lose sense of my body.
I cry out, but it's no use. Whatever he's done has me spiraling into unconsciousness. The last thing I see before sleep takes hold are eyes, which are now almost completely swallowed by black.
His words echo in the void. “Enjoy your nap.”
Chapter Three
Aria
My mind drifts back to me from a far and distant place. I’m uncomfortably warm all over, sweating. My stomach roils and my muscles ache. I groan.
What the heck happened?
My foggy mind struggles to recall my last moments awake, but when I feel Sayah scrambling inside me in worry, the memories snap into focus. Murray. Being traded for his debts. The orb. And that voice in my head. The hooded man who dragged me out, then somehow knocked me out with a quick pinch of his fingers…
I’ve been kidnapped.
Panic gripping me, I sit up. So where am I now? I quickly take in the room and what I see astounds me. I’m in a bed, surrounded by lush pillows and a comforter of royal blue and gold. There’s a roaring fireplace across from me. No wonder I’m sweating.
My gaze continues to sweep the room. There’s a bookshelf, a quaint little chair and table, a dresser. Everything looks expensive and old, like the designer had a strange love for Charles Dickens novels or something. Victorian-chic.
Bizarre. But at least it isn’t a prison cell or someone’s grimy basement.
There’s a beautiful, tall, stained-glass window that takes up most of the wall on my right. Through a few clear panes I can see the gray sky outside, foretelling of a thunderstorm rolling in.
How long have I been out of it?
I glance at the door, wondering if it’s locked. I swing my legs off the bed and touch down on the wood floor. Instantly, my head and stomach whirl in different directions, and I’m afraid I might go down again. Or worse, barf.
Whatever the fuck that creepy white-haired guy did to me, it really messed me up. All with a simple pinch of his fingers. I’ve never heard of a supernatural species that could do that.
Leftover raw anger for what my foster father did to me sweeps through me, too. If I ever see that asshole, I’m going to tell him exactly what I think. Of course this shit had to happen on the day I was finally going to be free.
As I wait for the dizzy spell to pass, I realize I’m no longer wearing my normal jeans and sweater. Someone has changed me into a silky sheath nightgown that leaves very little to the imagination. Even my shoes and bra are gone. My wounded leg has a fresh bandage, too.
The thought of a stranger’s hands on me—especially that hooded man’s—makes me cringe. I’ve never felt more violated in my life.
I need to get out of here. I scan the room once more for my clothes. Nothing.
“Sayah,” I whisper, and my shadow seeps out of me on command. I can sense her restlessness through our tether. She’s worried for me—for us—as strange as that sounds. “Is it safe to leave out that door?”
Understanding me, she zips along the floor and slips under the door to investigate. While she does that, I creep to the window and peer out. Wherever I am, it’s surrounded with rolling hills and a thick forest, which isn’t too uncommon in Vermont. I can’t see much else though, besides part of a long stone driveway that disappears behind more trees.
I remember the hooded man saying something about the “Lords” being pleased with this fucked-up transaction, so that means there’s more than one person to watch out for during my escape. But there aren’t any cars parked, as far as I can see. Maybe I’m lucky and I’ve been left alone?
Right. Me, lucky? I almost laugh out loud at that one.
I run a hand over the stained glass to find it isn’t like a normal window that can slide or crank open. It’s merely a decorative piece, which means I’d have to break a pane and squeeze myself out. From the height of the room, I’d say I’m about three stories up, so that makes jumping out of the question. If I had my satchel and my rope, I might be able to climb down most of the way and jump the rest.