Eve

 

I woke with the worst headache of my life, every square inch of my brain throbbing with agony.

At first, I had no idea where I was. Who I was, even. I was just a mass of throbbing pain—unusually bad throbbing pain. Definitely not a hangover.

Aching, I opened my eyes, my vision blurry at first. All I could see was an enormous space with a raftered ceiling and the figure of a man.

A man?

The killer.

It was the killer. He stood just fifteen feet away, watching me. Waiting for me to wake.

And he’d seen me. The way his black eyes lit up made that perfectly clear.

Frantic, I tried to get out of the chair in which I seemed to be sitting. I was almost too weak to move, but it didn’t matter. My wrists were bound to the back. I could stand, but I’d be bringing the chair with me.

I drew in a bracing breath and sat back, my mind spinning.

He hadn’t killed me yet. Why?

I had no idea, but I needed to use it. How, though?

Distract him until help showed up. Yep. That made perfect sense. It was some pretty basic 101 you’ve-been-kidnapped-shit, but it was all I could think of.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Why kidnap me?”

He laughed but didn’t answer. Apparently, he wasn’t going to lay out every detail of his dastardly plan. Well, a girl could always hope.

Instead, he walked forward. We had to be in the attic, as it was dusty and dark up here. The rafters overhead supported the sharply peaked roof, and there were a few windows on the side wall that led out to the ramparts.

The killer stepped into a beam of light, and I gasped. His hood was down, and now that I could see his face, he looked just like…

Like Lachlan.

“Who are you?” The words trembled as they escaped my lips.

“Surely you can guess.”

His voice was cold, his eyes colder. They were completely black, with no whites at all. Cold iced me.

His brother. Garreth. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

He looked so different than I remembered. He’d been slight when I’d seen him last, not even an adult yet. Now, he was a hardened man. Almost as handsome as his brother, and almost as big, but a killer.

He nodded. “I am supposed to be dead. You’re right. Brother dearest would agree with you, too. He saw my body.”

“What happened?”

“Hmm, I don’t think I’m going to tell you that.”

“Then why did you take me?”

“I needed bait. I saw you with my brother, saw the way he looked at you, and knew he’d come for you.”

It had never been about me at all.

He strolled closer, and I noticed that he was holding something in his hand. A leather cuff studded with potions.

“My cuff.” My gaze caught on a silver charm dangling from a slender chain, and I gasped. “My necklace!”

He held them up and smiled. “Quite the interesting collection of jewelry you have.”

I began to pant, panic making my limbs go numb.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. He had my necklace.

“This leather one is quite obvious, though ingenious.” He held it up to display it. Then he held up the chain. My pendant glinted in the narrow ray of sunlight. “This, however, was most unexpected.”

“It’s a comms charm.” The lie was desperate and dumb, and he could tell.

“That’s what I thought as well. Didn’t want you calling for help, now did I?” He swung the charm, and my gaze followed it. “But as soon as I took it off, those ears of yours disappeared. They’re round now. And your scent changed. Your entire signature.” He strolled around me, and I shuddered. “You’re a shifter. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re not just any shifter.”

“I’m not.” My lies were sounding thin even to my own ears.

He came around to crouch in front of me. “You’re my brother’s mate. I’d recognize your signature anywhere. It surprised the hell out of me when you walked into our chambers all those years ago, so dowdy and plain but smelling like the best thing I’d ever run into.”

I spat at him. I couldn’t help it. Rage filled me up, and I spat at him.

He lunged backward, then slapped me so hard I saw stars. My head rang, and my eyes watered.

A crashing noise sounded from the far side of the attic, and he straightened abruptly, then spun to stride toward it.

Was help here?

He disappeared into the shadows at the far side, and I began to struggle anew, trying to tear my hands out of the rough rope bonds.

Chill out!

Ralph’s little voice sounded in my head, and I glanced down, shocked to see him there. He looked dusty and worn out, but he started working on the ropes that held my hands.

I said nothing, not wanting Garreth to hear me talking to my familiar. Only I could hear Ralph’s voice in my head.

I’ve almost got you free, then you can run for it out the window. Or wait, and I’ll try to find Lachlan.

Desperately, I tried to telepathically send my thanks to Ralph. He’d clearly climbed up here somehow, then set off a distraction for Garreth. When I saw the man’s huge shadow returning, I cleared my throat to warn Ralph. I felt the bonds fall away and heard the faint noise of his little footsteps as he ran off into the shadows. I hoped he’d taken the ropes with him so that they weren’t sitting right under my chair.

Of course he had. Ralph was clever enough to find my entire stash—he’d take care of the details. And thanks to my little thief, my hands were free. Garreth was almost upon me, but I had options now.

“Why did you take me?” I asked. “Why not just kill me?”

He laughed, then spun in a circle, looking toward the door. My gaze followed his movements, and I noticed a string that formed a tripline in front of the threshold. Another string connected it to a spot deeper in the room…and led straight to a crossbow with a silver-tipped bolt.

Bait.

I was bait.

Lachlan

 

Eve.

Fear like I’d never known shot me straight in the heart. She’d been taken fifteen minutes ago, through a secret door that I’d had no idea existed, and we still hadn’t found her. No one had been able to make the door reappear, and we’d abandoned the effort.

How the hell did the killer know the tower better than I did?

The search had taken on a new urgency, and her friends were as frantic as I was. But every room we searched, every cubbyhole, was empty.

I was stepping onto the eighth floor when I felt it.

My mate.

The knowledge of her hit me in the chest like a battering ram, driving the breath from my lungs. Somehow, she had appeared. She was in this very tower. I could feel her like I could feel my own limbs. And she was in danger.

Eve?

It had to be Eve. I had no idea why I could feel her now, but I could.

“She’s upstairs,” I said, my gaze going to Seraphia. “Highest part of the tower.”

“How do you know?”

“I can feel her.” I rubbed my chest, then turned and raced for the stairs. I had to get to her.

Eve

 

Garreth watched me as I swallowed hard, my gaze riveted to the bolt. Silver. Poisonous to werewolves. A shot to the heart would kill Lachlan, quickly. A regular bolt might not—werewolves were powerful healers—but that silver bolt was deadly if it hit him in the right spot. Even if it didn’t, it would weaken him, maybe even make them evenly matched.