Page 13 of Midnight Queen

With her head held high and false bravado working its way through her system, Rory marches toward the doors. When she reaches Lor, who blocks the exit, her eyes narrow in challenge.

Lor smirks and looks the young hacker over. “I really do enjoy you. You’refeisty.”

“Funny you should say that, seeing as I have a history of setting fires. If you don’t want me to set your bed aflame while you’re in it, I would recommend moving aside,Irishman.”

Without skipping a beat, Lor huskily tells her, “I have no issue with you setting my bed on fire, just as long as you’re in it too. Preferably naked, but I’m not picky. I know how to work around clothes.”

“Lorcan,” I growl in warning. “Let her pass.”

With one last long perusal of her body, Lorcan steps out of the way and allows Rory to pass.

Without waiting for us to follow, she marches into the den and immediately slams the door behind her. The audible sound of the lock clicking in place follows suit.

Lor cocks his head, staring at the door before asking, “She knows a simple lock and a door made of glass isn’t going to keep us out, right?”

All I ever wanted to do was to help people. I chose a career path that gave me that opportunity, but it had one major downfall.

I’ve seen a lot of death.

I’ve heard the wail of a mother as her child dies in her arms. I’ve heard the pleas and prayers from my patients’ families to continue CPR. I’ve seen the doctors’ faces break when they realize there is nothing else they can do to save their patient. I’ve held thin, frail hands as the remaining bits of their life escape them in that last shallow breath.

And in those moments of immense tragedy and grief, there’s always that one person there to remind everyone of the little fucker calledfate.

Sometimes it’s referred to as God’s plan or destiny. Kismet even, but in the end, it all means the same thing; no matter the paths you follow or the people you meet, your future has been planned and there is nothing you can do to change it.

So often I’ve heard‘everything happens for a reason’or if we want to get even cheesier,‘it was written in the stars’is always a classic standby.

Many times, I’ve seen sayings like those bring comfort to people, but right now, as my shoulders and wrists burn in excruciating pain with each breath; pulling air into my lungs becomes more labored, I’m cursing the people who ever created such bullshit nuggets of so-calledwisdom.

If they are right, and everything has been established for us. That means it doesn’t matter how hard I worked my ass off or how badly I wanted to help people, none of it would have made a difference. I still would have ended up here; in love with a vampire and hanging from a ceiling, waiting for my kidnapper to come back and finish the job.

That sentence alone is hard to wrap my head around, but the vague concept that this has always been my fate is even harder to accept.

Holding back a grimace, I look at the camera that still sits across the room, pointing at me. I don’t want to give whoever’s watching the feed the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, but more importantly, if Silas is watching, I don’t want him to see it either.

To the bitter end, I will be strong. It’s how I’ve made it through my life up to this point, and I will face this how I always have; with a brave facade and a will that can’t be broken.

I know my plea to Silas for him to not watch has fallen on deaf ears. Gideon was right, Silas won’t be able to stop himself. He will consider looking away as a sign of weakness—defeat—and that isn’t in his nature.Losingisn’t an option for him and that’s how I also know he’s doing everything in his power to find me.

It’s a rare and extraordinary honor to be cared for by Silas Laurent. It’s a skill that doesn’t come naturally to him as he’s spent many centuries closed off, never getting too close to anyone. When you know you’ll outlive everyone you meet, I can see how he’d think developing relationships was a pointless endeavor. That’s why when he allows people into his life, it’s that much more special.

I’ve seen firsthand the lengths he’ll go to make sure his people are safe and well taken care of. Just as I know this, I also know the wrath and vengeance he’ll inflict on the people that threaten him. I was there when he put his fist through a man’s chest and I watched as he tore a head clean from someone’s shoulders. Both of those acts will be a mercy for what Silas will do to Gideon.

The same clanking noise as before comes from the metal sliding door as Gideon reenters the room. I’m not sure how long he’s been gone, the dark, windowless room messing with my semblance of time.

He shifts a black duffel bag to one shoulder after sliding the door shut behind him. “Have you been entertaining our viewers?” he asks as he checks something on the camera. “You should know you’re quite popular, Quincey. I have many people making offers. They’re bidding more than I ever could have hoped for.”

I lift my head, my stiff neck groaning in protest. “Of coursethey are. You should know by now that Silas enjoys the finer things in life. Fancy cars, exquisite art, beautiful property.” Lifting my mouth in a smirk, I add, “Grade A blood.”

“You’re arrogant,” Gideon scolds.

“And you’refucked,” I snap back, my hands tugging at the chains. Pain shoots from my fingertips to my shoulders. The human body isn’t meant to hang from its wrists. I know by each passing minute, more damage is being caused to my nerves, but that doesn’t stop me from continuing to taunt Gideon, “Silas is going to make you regret the day the first thought of your plan danced its way through your sick mind.”

Gideon laughs his cold, robotic laugh. “You think I would ever grant Silas the gratification of killing me himself?” Shaking his head, he shifts across the small space to wrap his hand around the lever on the wall. “I’ve always known that once I had my revenge, I would go join Margret.” Just like earlier, his emotionless eyes drift to the dark, empty corner of the room. “This is just my unfinished business before I’m finally at peace and with her once more.”

Without warning, he pulls the lever and I’m plummeting to the ground. My body, stiff and numb in places, isn’t prepared to catch itself. Instead, I crash to the floor, covered in various dark stains, in a disoriented heap. Everything hurts. Every ligament in my arms screams in pain, the joints protesting when my arms drop from the position they’ve been held in for so long.

Before I can fully bring in my next breath, a hand is wrapping around my long, tangled hair. My scalp prickles and a hissing sound escapes my lips as I’m dragged back to the table I’d woken up on. My knees burn as the skin is scraped off them in the process.

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