Page 106 of Shattered Veil
“Save it,” I snarl. Should’ve known better than to trust anyone in this fucking place.
“Now, now,” my father chides.“Don’t be too hard on the girl. She was simply fulfilling her duty. Unlike some people I could mention.”
I ignore him, my mind racing. We’re fucked six ways from Sunday, unless I can think of something fast.
“What do you want?” I ask, playing for time.
My father’s smile is all teeth.“Oh, I think you know exactly what we want, son. Or should I say, who?”
His gaze slides to Brigid’s still form. No fucking way am I letting them use her for their sick ritual.
“Over my dead body,” I growl.
“That can be arranged,” my father says softly.
Lochan, Rory, Tiernan and I exchange glances.
Fuck it. Let’s go.
Chapter Forty-Five
Brigid
Cold. Hard. My head’s pounding like a jackhammer. I pry my eyes open, blinking in the dim light, trying to see. Where the fuck am I?
Stone beneath me. Flickering shadows dance across vaulted ceilings. The acrid scent of incense burns my nostrils.
“Brigid?” A familiar voice cuts through the fog in my brain.
I struggle to focus, my vision swimming. A blurry figure looms over me. Short. White hair. Fiona.
“What... where...” My tongue feels thick, uncooperative.
“Shh,” Fiona whispers, her eyes darting around nervously.“Try not to move.”
Memories come flooding back. The ritual chamber. Shit.
I force myself up on my elbows, ignoring the wave of nausea that hits me. The room spins as I take it in. Sconces lit with eerie green flames, shadows across stone walls covered in murals. Naked bodies writhe in ecstasy, limbs entwined in impossible positions.
“How did I get here?”
Fiona’s face is grim.“It doesn’t matter now. We need to—”
A low chant cuts her off, and the sound sends a wave of fear straight through me. Hooded figures come into focus.
I try to stand, but my limbs won’t cooperate. It’s like I’m moving through molasses.
“Fiona, help me up,” I plead.
She hesitates, conflict flashing in her eyes.
The chanting swells, pressing in on me from all sides. Smoke and a strange incense curls through the air, thick and cloying. My head swims.
“What’s happening to me?” I gasp, struggling against the invisible force pinning me down.
Fiona’s expression is unreadable.“I’m sorry, Brigid. This is the best I can do.”
What the hell does that mean?
