And she was starting to crave the ride.
Passing through a series of empty chambers, she pictured him as she always found him: lying on his back on the metal bench, hands clasped behind his head in place of a pillow, bathed in shadows. A metal collar around his neck and shackles on his wrists and ankles.
She had no idea how to approach him today… or ever.
Entering the room, she pursed her lips. Her boots stuck to the floor. He wasn’t there. The chains hung from the metal shackles on the wall.
Kathrine scanned the empty corners, recalling the layout of the underground tunnels. They all led to dead ends, so he couldn’t have escaped through them. Nor could he have exited through the rock, since the padlock was secured.
Maybe he’d jumped into the sea? The only tunnel with an exit opened onto a cliff above crashing waves. The height was significant, and no sensible creature would risk smashing their skull on the jagged rocks below. But the necromancer wasn’t in his right mind.
Damn heavens!She’d let him escape. The Queen would have her head for this!
The light from the tunnel behind her went out, plunging the underground chamber into darkness. Kathrine spun on her heel, straining to make out anything.
Hewashere.
Her hand moved to her thigh, fingers grazing the weapon holstered there without drawing it. The necromancer had been confined for weeks. He was exhausted, far from his physical best.
Kathrine edged towards the tunnel and peered in both directions. Her eyes were adjusting to the dark, but it offered little help. The tunnel curved, obscuring anything beyond. He had to be close – how else could he have cut the light so suddenly? The switch was inches from where she stood.
Someone grabbed her from behind. A large hand clamped over her mouth while another pinned her back against a solid male body. The necromancer’s breath brushed against the side of her neck. “Got you.”
The skin on her neck prickled.
He drew her closer against him. “Enjoying the role reversal?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, stirring an unpleasant knot in her stomach. “Now that your narcissistic friend isn’t here to beat me unfairly?”
He slid his hand away from her mouth, letting his fingers trace her lower jaw and forcing her head back. Her gaze remained locked with his glowing – almost demonic – eyes in the darkness.
“Hmm…” he grunted. “I think you’re enjoying this.”
“Let me go.”
If the necromancer kept up this game, he’d force her to shift and fight him. Although the Queen hadn’t explained why she needed him, Kathrine had gathered enough to know that, whatever the reason, they needed him in good condition.
His fingers tightened around her chin. “Or what? You boast about having beaten every contestant in the Al-Hatib Tournament. Show me just how dangerous you are!”
She could break free. She could shoot him. Yet, despite the temptation to fight back, she relaxed in his rough embrace.She wouldn’t feed his hatred with aggression. “None of this is personal. Do what the Queen asks, and you’ll be free to leave!”
He let out a bitter laugh. “On the contrary – it’s entirely personal. You haveno ideahow personal.”
She was missing something, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of asking questions. Her neck began to ache from the position his fingers held her in, but she couldn’t think of a plan to regain control of the situation without seriously hurting him.
“Even if you kill me, you won’t escape from here,” she said.
The necromancer laughed again – that vile, sinister sound capable of unsettling even the dead. “Escape? That’s not what I’m interested in, tigress.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I told you: I want to see what you’re made of!”
“I’m not fighting you.”
“Because I’m not chained up?”
He released her.
She stepped away and pivoted on her heel. Her vision had adjusted enough to make out his broad frame dressed in rumpled clothes. He claimed he wasn’t interested in escaping, but Kathrine didn’t believe him. And she still hadn’t figured out how to lock his shackles back in place.