Page 83 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
The blade glinted against his gullet, reflecting the golden morning suns. Pete’s eyes blazed in amazement. And fury. Squirming down into the dirt to put space between his carotids and the knife, he raised his hands.
I heaved, desperate to maintain control of the situation. “Now, you jerkwad, I’m going to say this one more time.” Sweat slicked over the engraved dagger’s handle. “Give. Andy. Back. Or I’ll slice your throat like a hunk of cheese.”
I tightened my slipping grip on the dagger hilt. Pete hissed as the blade nicked his skin, and the sight of his welling blood shamed me. “If you want him back, you must let me up.” The cords of his throat pulsed. “I can’t very well reach my bag with your knee in my chest, now, can I?”
I gritted my teeth.What the hell should I do?
Pete was right. In our current position, I could only retrieve Andy by letting him go, his satchel smushed beneath him, tightened to his massive body. But if I eased up even a fraction, he’d dance away from the blade. I’d no longer be a threat.
Chaotic emotions triggered my powers, so I couldn’t hope for another gale-force wind to knock him on his ass.
You couldjust slit his throat,reasoned a stone-cold part of me.Once he’s dead, recover Andy and run to safety. Problems solved.
Trusting that Pete wouldn’t kill me was idiocy, no matter what he said. He was aharbinger!Even if he kept his word, let me live, he’d still hand me off to the evil fuck who wanted my entire family exterminated. Death would be a mercy then.
And what about the shadow tether problem? What if killing Pete didn’t nullify the power of that damn leash? If I killed him, would I be forever bound to a rotting corpse? His replacement would surely catch me if I had to drag his dead ass around.
Stop wasting time with what-ifs! You know what you need to do!
My heart hurt just imagining it.
Pete seized on my doubt, heaving up with a roar. I cried out as he clamped my wrist, twisting my arm behind me at such an unnatural angle I had to drop the dagger. The blade sliced into the grass as Pete’s gruff hands bit into my flesh, slammed me facedown into a mud puddle. I sputtered, squawked, and flailed in an all-out wrestling match with him and a threesome of snaking shadows.
Suffice it to say, I lost.
I wound up hog-tied and gagged, tossed in the wagon like a bale of hay. Standing over me, Pete shook mud from his arms as I cursed him through my invisible gag. Gibberish was all I managed, but he got the gist.
I wrenched back into the boards when Pete sank to a crouch before me and dabbed his neck. Blood coated his dirty fingertips; he grinned at the sight. “Should’ve killed me when you had the chance, darlin’.” Then he smacked my ass.
I screeched as he burst into laughter and bounded away from my writhing filth.
Twohoursafterwaking,I was parched, hungry, aching, and in grave danger of peeing my pants. At first, I would’ve rather soiled myself than acknowledge Pete’s presence. Of course, as my pangs intensified, I realized my pride would recover from deigning to speak to the man who’d tied me up like a farm animal. It wouldn’t if I pissed myself before him.
After minutes of squealing for Pete’s attention, the wagon finally slowed on the rocky, narrow passage through a fertile, towering woodland. We might as well have been in Germany’s Black Forest, a setting featured in many of my favorite romances. Right then, of course, it was anything but romantic.
Pete folded his arms upon the wagon ledge. “Need something?”
I fought the gag to speak.
He arched a brow. “Enunciate, would you? I can’t understand you.”
I willed fire to spray from my eyes. Nothing so violent happened.
“That’sa nifty little talent there—the way you make your eyes change color. I thought it was a trick of the fae asters last night, but here we are in broad daylight, and they just shifted from hazel to amber—almost red.”
My eyes would only get redder.
“A word of advice—don’t let Gentian see that happen if you can control it. If he doesn’t ken what it means about you, he’ll do whatever he must to figure it out.”
My guts quavered, my bladder following suit. Moaning, I kicked, seconds away from wetting myself.
Pete chuckled and opened his fist. A set of shadow tethers materialized, extending from his fingers. He grabbed one with his other hand and yanked. The binding between my teeth slackened, then slithered back into his hand.
Blood rushed back to my lips.
“So, what is it you want?” he asked, almost bored.
I lifted my nose. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
