Bounty Captured: Solstice Huntress: Book 3, page 1
Bounty Captured
Solstice Huntress: Book 3
Lindsey Devin
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Try Taken By The Vampire King
Bounty Captured
Chapter 1
I slowly blinked into consciousness. Groggy didn’t even begin to cut it—I felt like I’d been thrown off my mare Hannie’s back and then run over by a truck for good measure. Every muscle in my body ached, my head was full of cotton, and my throat burned like I hadn’t had water for a week. Like a hangover magnified by a million.
I slowly pushed myself up onto my elbows.
The room was unfamiliar. The mattress below me was plush, sinking under my weight, a far cry from the rock-hard mattress I preferred at home. I was buried under silk comforters, surrounded by silk pillows, and the dark fabric was detailed with gold thread that glowed in the warm candlelight of the room. The immense stone fireplace was unlit, but the elegantly carved wooden chairs and plush fur rug still looked inviting. Overhead, the vaulted ceiling was fogged over in ethereal darkness, and enchanted pinpricks of light twinkled like stars.
My head began to clear, and as it did, dread began to creep through me.
The last thing I remembered was the heavy, cold press of Daniel’s magic around me like a vise. Even when I’d fought back with my magic at full power, it wasn’t enough to overcome his.
Where the fuck was I?
I scrambled out of bed and stumbled toward the immense wooden door. The handle didn’t turn an inch, even when I pushed all my weight against it.
“Fuck,” I hissed as I pushed fruitlessly at the door. “Come on, come on, come on.” Assuming the lock was magical in some way, I reached for the power in my core.
And found nothing.
The dread turned to terror, icy in my veins. This wasn’t like the usual dampening I did in the Den, nor was my magic deeply hidden like it had been with Mala’s cuff. I could barely, barely feel it, so deep inside it was almost nothing, giving off the tiniest bit of energy like a single faint ember where there was once a wildfire.
I stumbled away from the door. Where was I? What had Daniel done to me?
I whirled around, looking for another way out, when my reflection in the huge orate mirror on the wall caught my eye. I was in a simple silk slip, finely made and detailed with the same gold thread as the sheets, and it looked ridiculous with the thick dark leather collar around my neck. I’d been so groggy and confused I hadn’t noticed it before, but now I couldn’t seem to pay attention to anything except its weight.
I stepped closer to the mirror and lifted my chin to see it better as nausea roiled in my gut. The collar was two fingers thick, with an embossed vine winding around it, elegant and understated. Hell, it looked like something Carla would’ve worn for a night out on the town when she was trying to pick up. Right at my nape, there was a heavy metal buckle, warmed from my skin. I hooked my fingers under the buckle and then yelped in pain as electricity rocketed over my skin. That was a serious fucking shock—it made my eyes rattle in their sockets. I took a shaky breath.
The thing was spelled—seriously spelled. There was no way I’d be able to get it off without help. I’d pass out before I could even start to figure out the lock on the buckle. As long as it was on, I’d have no access to my magic. And no way to defend myself.
“Fuck,” I swore, louder now. “Fuck!”
There was one thing I knew for sure: I had to get out of here. Fast. There had to be another way out, something my captors had overlooked, an unlocked window or a stashed key or a servants’ entrance or something. Shit. I had to figure something out.
I rushed to the window first, shoving aside the heavy dressings only to find it sealed shut with the same impenetrable magic that locked the door. Hell, I didn’t even know if the scene outside the window was real at all. Maybe the lavender grass was just as enchanted as the stars twinkling on the ceiling, intended to keep me calm. It wasn’t fucking working.
I searched the drawers of the dresser next, tossing fine linen clothes aside carelessly until they were piled on the stone floor like gorgeously colored abandoned snakeskins. I ran my hands over the seams of the drawers, looking for anything that might help me. A key, a stashed knife, anything. Then I searched the huge wooden armoire in the same way, shoving the hanging silk gowns aside to root around the seams and corners like I might find a secret door in the back.
No dice. Of course not. That’d be too fucking easy.
Burning with frustration and fear, I slammed the drawers back into place and kicked the piles of clothes aside. Then I stood in the center of the fine bedroom, nearly vibrating with rage—at Daniel, and at myself.
How could I have let this happen?
How could I have done this to Gram?
After everything I’d said about staying safe. All the times I’d promised her over and over that I’d be fine. And now here I was, trapped somewhere in Faerie without any power. Alone.
Completely alone. Where the hell was Corbin?
We’d been together in that terrible room with Ralnor—and then Ralnor had engaged some awful spell that had transported me to Faerie before I’d even realized what was happening. It’d just been me and Daniel in the woods of Faerie. If Corbin had been there, I would’ve felt him. I know I would’ve. I’d know his ozone aura anywhere. That forest had been empty of anyone except Daniel.
Was Corbin still Earthside? Or had he been transported somewhere, too? Was he in a different part of Faerie? Or somewhere else?
Somewhere worse?
I exhaled hard and shook that thought from my mind. Corbin could take care of himself. Right now, I needed to focus on getting myself out of here. My hand fluttered back to the collar, but I resisted the urge to tug on it and shock the hell out of myself again.
The lock on the great wooden door clicked open.
My fingers ached for a knife, for my jewelry—for anything. No weapons. No power. At least if push came to shove, I still had a haymaker of a right cross.
Daniel breezed into the room like he owned the place—he probably did, I realized—and shut the door behind him. His long, dark coat brushed his shins, moving in some breeze he appeared to have brought in with him. His aura was no less infuriating than it had been in the forest. He still had that terrible reptilian look about him, with his sharp, severe features and his green eyes boring into mine with predatory interest. It was a scary kind of handsomeness. It wasn’t rare to see that in UnSeelie, but in Daniel it was kicked up to a notch, and it made my skin crawl.
I took a step back instinctively, with my hands balled into fists at my sides.
“I see you’re awake,” Daniel said. He cast his gaze disdainfully around the clothes piled on the floor. “And that you weren’t pleased by the fine clothing I’ve provided for you. Have the accommodations been suitable otherwise?”
“Go fuck yourself,” I hissed. “Where the fuck is Corbin?”
Daniel’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “And why is that mongrel your first concern?”
“Where is he?” I barked, rage boiling inside me as my voice bounced off the crisp stone walls.
Daniel sucked his teeth, then took a moment to check his nails, like he was waiting for a toddler to wear themselves out from having a tantrum. That only made me angrier. I felt like Oscar when I was trying to corner him into climbing into his carrier. Pissed off, disrespected, and trapped. I wanted to lunge at Daniel. I wanted to rip his throat out with my bare hands.
“The thing is,” Daniel said languidly, “Corbin’s not important to me. The only thing I required of Ralnor was getting you transported to Faerie in one piece. Whatever he did with Corbin is none of my concern. As long as he’s out of the way, Ralnor can do whatever he wants with him.”
Fuck. My heart sank. That was even worse than Daniel having Corbin locked away in Faerie somewhere—if that were true, at least I could try to find him. If Daniel was lying, he was doing a seriously good job of it. He didn’t give a shit about Corbin. “What the hell does Ralnor want with him?”
“I don’t care,” Daniel said. “This isn’t about him. This is about us, Temperance. You and me. Finally, we can start to build a future together.” He smiled at me, and his sharp teeth caught the low gleam of the candles.
“Fat fucking chance,” I said. “There’s no us at all, and definitely no fucking ‘future.’”
“You know, Tempie, things will be a lot easier for you once you accept your life here with me. The sooner you start behaving, the better things will be.” His tone was soft and condescending, like he was trying to bribe a child into climbing into his van. It made my stomach turn.
“Better?” I laughed sardonically. “The only way this would get better would be if you took this fucking collar off me. Either way, I’m not going to sit around here like a helpless maiden and let you suck me dry.”
“Oh, Tempie.” He shook his head. “I’d never do that.”
&nb
He paused in front of me and sighed, almost dreamily, as he let his gaze rake hungrily over my body. He took his time looking at me, head to toe and back up, memorizing every inch of me. It made goosebumps rise on my arms. I wanted so badly to throw a punch, but my arms were too heavy, like my blood had been transmuted into lead.
“You’re not supposed to be drained in one fell swoop.” He placed the tip of his forefinger onto the skin of my throat, the barest, gentlest touch, but I felt it like a knife. “You’re supposed to be savored.”
He dragged his touch down slowly, over the leather of the collar; he lingered at the soft hollow of my throat before his touch went lower, tracing over my sternum down to my solar plexus, tugging the lace of the slip down slightly.
“Consumed slowly, with care, like a fine whiskey. Not a cheap beer. The blood in your veins is more precious to me than drink in this realm, or any other.”
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak—and I didn’t know if it was his magic, or the bleak reality of this situation slowly setting in.
I was fucked. I wasn’t going to die here and now. I was going to be drained slowly, perpetually, for as long as he could wring the blood out of me.
Daniel dropped his touch and took a step back. Whatever hold he had on me was suddenly broken, and he stepped back briskly. I slumped, then took a gasping breath like I’d been underwater.
“Our new life together is just beginning,” he declared. “We have a lot of time to spend together. I suggest you adjust your attitude so it’s a more pleasant experience for the both of us.”
He left just as quickly as he’d arrived, stepping out the door and locking it behind him. I grabbed the lamp off the dresser and hurled it at the door with a roar, feeling more and more like a trapped animal. “Asshole!”
Fuck. I sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, then took a few deep, steadying breaths.
Okay. I was trapped, I had no access to my power, and Daniel had just told me he wanted to drain me slowly. At least I knew what I was dealing with.
I’d figure something out. I had to.
What if Corbin needed my help, too?
I passed the next few hours flat on my back on the too-soft mattress, staring at the twinkling fake stars overhead, racking my brain for something, anything I could do. Any way to get out of this room and out of Faerie. When I came up with no good ideas there, I closed my eyes and tried to access my power, like if I focused hard enough, maybe I could sneak past the spell the collar had put on me. Of course, that was a bust, too. All I got out of that was a headache pounding behind my eyes like it was taking a jackhammer to my skull.
I was massaging my temples, still flat on the bed when there was a sharp rap of knuckles on the door before the lock clicked open again. “Good evening, Temperance.” The speaker was a small UnSeelie who looked like a grandmother who’d been shrunk down to about three feet tall. She was dressed in a plain canvas dress with a white half-apron, and despite her small stature, she carried herself with an air of haughtiness. Was that just an UnSeelie thing? It was really starting to get on my nerves. She adjusted the round glasses perched on the tip of her nose and peered at me. “It’s time to prepare for dinner.”
I rolled onto my side, so my back was to this UnSeelie. “I’m not going to dinner,” I said. “And I’m not eating anything here. Tell Daniel to shove it.”
She tutted. “I certainly won’t. Now, I’ll give you one more chance. Are you going to get up and get ready for dinner?”
Jeez, this reminded me a lot of when I was growing up with Gram and whining about having to get up and go to school. I rolled back over and sat up.
“I’m not doing a damn thing with that scumbag,” I said. “If he wants me to show up for some kind of ‘dinner,’ he’ll have to come down here and drag me there himself.”
“Well, that won’t do,” the servant said with a sigh. “He did warn me you might insist on being difficult.”
I sneered.
The servant tutted again, then picked her way carefully through the piles of clothes on the floor. She disappeared into the bathroom, and I heard her knocking around and muttering to herself in a way that made me more than a little nervous.
She stepped out of the bathroom with a towel swung over her shoulder and her glasses fogged with steam. “I’m at least relieved to see you didn’t trash the items in the wardrobe, too.” She nodded to the armoire in the corner, and suddenly I regretted not dumping all the clothes out of that, too. “So I shouldn’t have to do any emergency care on your gown for this evening. Now, we don’t have all the time in the world.”
“I said--”
The servant tutted again, and her eyes flashed a flat yellow.
Suddenly I was standing. “Hey!” I barked. “What the fuck--”
“Language, please, Temperance,” the servant said, and my jaw snapped closed. My voice was trapped behind my teeth as my feet walked awkwardly across the floor and into the small bathroom. I was a passenger in my own body—the servant hadn’t taken control of my body, exactly, but it was like she’d attached marionette strings to my limbs and was manipulating me from the outside. It was unnerving, but more than that, it was degrading.
I really was owned. It made me nauseous.
The bathroom was tiny, and now there was a large copper tub filled with steaming water and fragrant bubbles.
“You’ll want to make a good impression at dinner,” the servant said as she followed me into the bathroom. “First we need to get all that Earthside filth off you.”
I pulled off my slip—not of my own accord—and stepped into the bathtub. At least the water was the perfect temperature, just hot enough. Small favors, I guessed. The servant busied herself with a spread of soaps and other toiletries on the small shelf in the bathroom. She handed me a washcloth and a bar of soap, then arched one narrow eyebrow at me. “Are you going to behave now, or am I going to have to do the dirty work, too?”
The marionette feeling dissipated, and I snatched the washcloth out of her hand. Receiving a bath by someone else’s hand—even if it was just a spell—was definitely not on my bucket list. “Fine.”
“Hair, too,” the servant said.
“Hey,” I said, “my hair’s curly, I’ve got a whole routine set up, and I’m not due for a wash--”
She waved a hand, and I dunked my head under the bathwater. I came up sputtering indignantly, my hair wet and plastered to my head. “Great,” I said, “now I’m going to look like a frizzy mess at this dinner you’re acting like is so fucking important. Good job.”
“That’s enough from you,” she said, and then my lips were glued shut again. As if this entire setup wasn’t degrading enough.
I finished bathing, but the servant forced me to remain in the tub while she wrapped a fine white towel around my hair and fastened it in place. Only then did she allow me to step out of the water, briskly handing me another, larger towel.
“Dry off and moisturize,” she instructed. “And don’t waste any time.”
Of course, I tried to waste time, drying off slowly, tugging on the fancy underclothes, and then sniffing all the powders and creams on the small shelf. Everything seemed nice, but like hell I was going to put mysterious UnSeelie makeup on my skin if I wasn’t forced to. The servant seemed to have an idea of what I was doing, though, because it didn’t take long for that terrible marionette feeling to return as she marched me out of the bathroom, in just my underclothes with the towel around my hair.
“Daniel has requested you wear this, tonight,” the servant said. She pulled a flowing gold gown from the wardrobe.
