Page 2 of Captive Mate
Matthew’s head whipped around so he could glare at his brother. “What the hell?” he demanded. “You told me he’d been looked after. That you were taking care of everything. He’s chained up on the floor and you haven’t even been fuckingfeeding him?”
I ducked my head — making it look like I was drooping the other direction with hunger and despair, but really to hide a triumphant smile. Score. Discord sown. First volley to me. “I don’t remember when they fed me last,” I said quietly. Sadly. Meekly, even.
Heavy footsteps shook the floor and I braced myself for a hit. “Hey.” Instead, a huge, warm hand wrapped around the back of my neck, the fingers tangling in my long hair and caressing gently under my ear. I glanced up through my lashes. Matthew’s brows were drawn together, and his eyes were soft with worry. “It’ll be all right, Jonah. We’ll get you out of these chains, get you a real meal and a bed, and you’ll be fine. You were confused. That bastard Kimball was threatening you. You’re safe here, I promise.”
Oh, thank fuck, that made for good hearing, even though the sound of the stupid fake name I’d chosen when Kimball’s shaman Adam asked for one three months before made me wince. This was going to be even easier than I’d thought. Matthew was wrapped around my tattooed little finger.
A second later, Matthew’s eyes rolled back in his head, the hand on the nape of my neck went limp, and he toppled to the floor, his head knocking a puff of filthy dust into the air as it thumped into the shag carpet.
I looked up. That bitch Nate had one hand out and pointed at Matthew, and a smug smile on his face I wanted to smack off of him with a water bottle. Or my fist.
“Nice going,” Ian said, sounding impressed. Asshole.
“Dor taught me how yesterday,” Nate replied, and brushed his hands together. “Whammy. I thought we might need to be able to do that if Matthew acted like a fucking moron again.”
Well, fuck. Not so easy after all.
With the speed of long practice, I forced my rage down and out of sight. “He’s your pack leader, and he’s doing his job,” I said, careful to still sound breathy and weak. It wasn’t that much of a stretch. They really hadn’t fed me, except for a granola bar the night before. “He’s trying to make sure you aren’t abusing helpless pris—”
“Oh, save it,” Nate snapped. “Helpless my ass. You might have him right where you want him with your crappy spell, but we’re immune to the bullshit.” I blinked up at him, slowly, giving him the full force of what I’d been told were very pretty green eyes. I’d also been told they made me look like an alley cat, but hey, pretty was pretty — and also, that wasn’t entirely wrong, if they only knew. “We’re immune to that too,” Nate added, although he took a defensive step closer to his hulking Neanderthal of a mate as he did, like he was afraid my wiles might have more of an effect on Ian than they did on him.
Which, maybe — okay, no. Under the circumstances, no, although seducing two brothers at the same time was well within my wheelhouse on a better day. But if it worked? Ugh. I wasn’t putting out for Ian, and he didn’t seem like he was the type to let a guy get away with empty promises.
“Look, let’s make this simple. Break the spell or I’m going to rip your throat out,” Ian put in, losing whatever appeal he might have had in the process. He crossed his massive arms across his equally massive chest and glared down at me. “Matthew won’t care once you’re dead.”
Nate shot him a worried look. “We can’t just kill him. I mean, he may not be harmless, or helpless, but he is a prisoner. That’s — we won’t do that, right?”
“The hell we won’t,” Ian growled. “You might not. But I definitely will.”
I glanced down at Matthew, sprawled next to me on the floor. They hadn’t even bothered to move him to the couch; apparently they were still really, really pissed about his part in betraying his pack. His hand, the one that had cradled the back of my head so tenderly a few minutes before, lay limp next to my knee. He was out like a light, and likely to stay that way for a little bit, by the even rise and fall of his broad chest. He wouldn’t hear any of this, and he probably wouldn’t believe it when Ian told him.
Fine. No more Little Orphan Annie. “Go ahead, kill me,” I drawled, looking back up to meet Ian’s furious gaze. “If you want to watch your brother die too.”
Ian and Nate stared at me for a second. “I call bullshit,” Nate said, although he didn’t sound as confident as he clearly wanted to. “Spells die with the caster.”
“Sometimes they do.” I shrugged. “When the caster’s not very skilled. I mean, I’m sureyourspells wouldn’t last if someone did the world a favor and lit you on fire.”
Nate’s cheeks went flaming red. “Fuck you, you sorry excuse for a shaman! I knocked your ass out with a water bottle!”
Fury spiked up in me. “That was a fluke!” Fuck, fuck, I had to keep myself together. No anger. No emotions. I didn’t need them. “Anyway, this spell won’t die with me. You kill me, and Matthew’ll be dead within a few weeks. A couple of months, at most. Slowly. Painfully. No cure, and no counterspell.”
I broke off, breathing hard, and glared back at them. My heart was beating way too fast. I needed water. I neededoff this fucking floor. And I really, really wasn’t sure they’d believe me.
“You’re so sure we won’t call your bluff?” Ian asked. His arms were still crossed, like he was all casual, but his fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white.
“It’s not a bluff.” And it wasn’t, not that it was any comfort. If they killed me, I’d be too dead to have the bleak satisfaction of watching Matthew suffer and die too, and I was the only necromancer I knew with the chops and the cojones to bring me back. Irony at its finest. “He’ll die if you kill me. If you want to risk it, then do it. This basement sucks anyway. I mean, who decorated this place? The Bee Gees’ grandma?”
Nate suddenly turned away, making a strange choking sound. “Nate, seriously, what the fuck,” Ian hissed at him. “Really? He’s the enemy.” Nate’s shoulders shook, and then he turned around again, his eyes oddly bright.
Well, fuck me. He’d been laughing. I still hated him, but at least he had one good quality other than that fucking cute ass and his aim with a bottle.
“Okay, look,” Nate said, putting his hands on his hips. He cleared his throat. “No killing. Just in case it’s not a bluff,” he said, directing that at Ian, who huffed at him. “But torturing. That we can do lots of, right? Starving, beating, you know, um, other stuff. Torture’s not really my thing. I mean, obviously we can’t cut off fingers or anything, that would be fucked-up, but. Something?” He elbowed Ian in the side with force. “Feel free to jump in anytime, asshole.”
“I’m terrified,” I said.Other stuff?That would be fucked-up? As if that wasn’t the whole point of torture. What waswrongwith this pack? Was there anything they were good at? Their victory the other night was obviously an accident. And I’d let myself be captured by these incompetents. Sometimes I seriously hated myself, too. “Really. Shaking in my shoes. Cringing. Would you like me to come up with some ideas for you? I hate massages, hot baths, and caviar, just for example.” Nate rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. I smirked up at them. “Anyway, I can do torture for days. On either side of the equation. I couldn’t care less. But he will,” I said, nodding at Matthew, who was still drooling on the floor. “He won’t let you.”
“Wouldn’t give him a choice,” Ian said grimly. “He’s this close to being removed as pack leader by the council. I’m acting in his place right now, pretty much.”
My eyes darted back to Matthew involuntarily. Shit. I’d caused that, and a tiny little unfamiliar worm of guilt wriggled in my guts.
