Chapter One
They attacked us the instant we entered the abandoned barn. Shadowed figures emerged from the poorly lit corners. A particularly large one jumped from the loft to land in front of Ian.
“Hello, old chap,” he said before punching him in the stomach.
Ian doubled over as it knocked the wind out of him. It took only a second, but that was enough time for the guy to grab him and hold a knife to his throat.
Two others came at me. I threw two of my knives into their hearts, killing them instantly, and clearing a path to Ian.
“Let him go,” I demanded.
“Oh, the wittle girl wants me to let him go. All right, let’s make a deal. I’ll take you instead. How ‘bout that?”
“How ‘bout you let him go and I’ll show you what this ‘wittle girl’ can do? Or are you too scared to fight someone half your size?”
Before he could respond, someone slammed into me from behind, knocking me forward. I glanced around to see Sheryl, a member of my clan, wrestling a tall female.
This brief distraction cost me. Ian’s captor tossed him aside and grabbed me. He was so fast I never saw it coming.
He ran out of the barn with me flung over his shoulder. I struggled, but it was no use. I could only watch as his buddies swarmed my clan.
He threw me into the trunk of a car and ripped off my knife belt.
“You won’t be needing these anymore.” He slammed the trunk in my face, plunging me into darkness.
That really pissed me off. Those were my favorite knives. “If anything happens to those knives, you’ll be sorry!” I yelled. I heard him chuckle as the car began to move.
The trunk was completely black, not even a sliver of light. It smelled of stale sweat and old fear. There had been others in the trunk before me. I didn’t want to think about what had happened to them. I ran my hands around the space. I felt nothing but a smooth surface. They’d modified it to remove the release lever, along with any other chance of reaching the outside.
There were some occasions when my short stature came in handy. This was one of them. I was able to bend sideways and reach the knives hidden in my boots. I tried stabbing through the trunk, but my knife hit a solid surface. They’d reinforced it, and the impact reverberated up my arm, making me hiss in pain.
The car soon came to a stop, and I heard muffled voices. We hadn’t traveled far, which was good… I hoped. I held my knives and braced to come out swinging. The trunk opened, and I lashed out, stabbing my abductor in the hand. The faeritonium from the blade would burn as if I had set his hand on fire. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would make him mighty uncomfortable for as long as it took to heal.
Letting out a howl of pain, he pulled his hand to his chest. “Dammit! You’ll pay for that.”
You can stab a banshee with steel, or even silver, all you want; they’ll simply kill you before you can blink. Faeritonium, however, does the job just fine. Only problem being that to kill them, it needs to puncture their heart.
I wasn’t in position for a killing blow, so I had to hope the hand wound gave me enough time to get out of the damned trunk.
No such luck. An even larger banshee replaced the wounded one. The ogre leaned over with a blank expression on his face that hinted more at a lack of intelligence than a lack of enthusiasm. His big meaty fist rose high and bashed me in the head with blinding speed, knocking me out.
When I came to, excruciating pain and intense nausea greeted me. The ogre had given me a concussion; that was obvious. Though, what wasn’t obvious was why I hadn’t healed.
Someone had chained my hands to the cot on which I was lying. The power humming through the restraints and my lack of healing told me they’d enchanted them with an aura-stifling spell.
I looked for clues as to where I was and any way out. The thick cement block walls were unpainted and stained from past floods. Thanks to the lack of ventilation, the air was thick with the smell of mildew, causing me to gag with each breath. The harsh fluorescent lights teamed with the little men banging the inside of my skull, causing ever-increasing waves of nausea.
They’d trapped me in a storage unit, and there was no breaking free from the shackles. One of Gabriel’s goons would eventually come for me. They hadn’t chained me up here just to die. That wasn’t their way. They’d want to make a profit off me. I’d have to do my best to fight my way free before they had that chance.
So, saving what little energy I had, I rested my head on the cot to wait. It wasn’t long before I heard tires crunching over the gravel outside the door — the only way out of this oven. As the door began to roll-up, I slumped my head and feigned unconsciousness.
“She’s still out,” said a deep voice.
A female voice followed that. “Maybe little Miss. Qadira Quinn isn’t as tough as the rumors say.”
Rumors? There are rumors about me? I didn’t think anyone knew who I was, other than one of Ian’s Hunters. I didn’t know whether to be honored or insulted.
“We gotta get her into the car, so this should make it easy,” said the male as he started unlocking the cuffs around my ankles.
“Work fast, I don’t want to deal with her if she wakes up,” the female replied as she set to work on my wrists. After releasing me from the bed, she recuffed my hands behind my back. “Hurry, let’s get her in the trunk.”
Trunk? Hell no, I was not getting back in that trunk. That was insulting, for sure.
“Jilda, we doing this or what?” said a third voice. A voice I knew all too well.
“Sheryl?” I hissed, startling the two banshees standing next to me. Recovering from her shock, Jilda tightened her grip on my arm.
“You double-crossing bitch!” I growled at Sheryl.
“Oh, shut up. You’re coming with me.” She widened her eyes.
The male banshee left the room, presumably to get the trunk ready for my transport. I took a moment to size up the situation. Having sparred with her many times, I knew I could hold my own against Sheryl. But the other woman? I wasn’t so sure. From the power emanating from her, she was older than Sheryl, which meant she should be stronger than her.
“I am so not getting back into a trunk.” Testing the other woman’s strength, I jerked forward. This jostled her, but her grip never loosened. Still, moving her even a little gave me hope.
“If you’re a good girl, you can ride in the backseat.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m going anywhere with any of you. Where do you think you’re taking me, anyway?” I never in a million years expected her to answer me, so it shocked the hell out of me when she did.
“Gabriel wants the pleasure of meeting you.” She did the weird eye thing again. She was trying to tell me something… but what? I didn’t know. I only knew I wasn’t going anywhere with a double-crosser.
“Hmm, as exciting as that sounds, I’ll have to take a rain check. ‘Kay?” I gave her the biggest smile I could muster as I clenched my teeth and pulled forward again, harder this time, and freed myself from the older banshee.
“Ha!” I cheered, unable to help myself.
Before she could grab me again, I spun to face her and shuffled backwards to keep her, and the door, in sight. Her short, ebony hair was a shade or two darker than her flawless skin. Her well-toned, lithe body looked dancer-esque. It always surprised me that the ‘bad’ banshees were so good-looking. They should be as hideous as the baddies in fairytales, but nope, they are mostly gorgeous. Makes it way easier to approach their mortal meals.