Obsession: A Rejected Mate Shifter Romance (The Mate Games #1)(57)

The two witches fell a bit behind, their low voices and breathy giggles telling me they were enjoying themselves just as much as they had been at the club.

We’d made it perhaps a block, Sunday snuggled beneath my arm, her head resting on my shoulder, when Moira swooped in between us.

“Oh! Sunday, I need to speak to you about something,” Moira said, weaving her arm through Sunday’s. A protest was on the tip of my tongue, but she winked at me. “Official roommate business, you understand. We’ll just be a second.”

Sunday giggled, and that sealed it for me. Anything that made her happy was impossible to refuse. I let that sink in a moment, an unfamiliar sense of calm settling in my chest. I truly cared if she was happy. Until now, I’d never cared about anyone who wasn’t family. Not like this.

Moira pulled Sunday back, leaving Ash and me to amble along beside one another.

“Do you know why Dracula doesn’t have any friends?” Ash started after we’d walked about halfway down the next block in silence.

“Please don’t.”

Her lips turned up in a smile as she tried and failed to hold in her laughter. “Because he’s a pain in the neck!”

“Jesus . . . and there it is.”

She poked me in the ribs. “Admit it. You thought it was funny.”

“No. No, I didn’t.”

I fought a laugh despite myself as I made eye contact with the witch, and then everything stopped as her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell to the ground. My skin was on fire as a woven net of pure silver landed on me from above. The pain was like nothing I’d ever felt. Not even my traitor mark could compare. Sunday let out a panicked cry, and from the corner of my eye, I saw her and Moira being tugged into the alley by two hooded figures.

The pain was excruciating, my muscles locking up and preventing me from going after her. As I watched, helpless to do anything to stop it, my mate vanished into the alley. The only thing I could do was vow to get her back as I shouted her name.

They’d taken her. She was gone and all because I had failed at my one job. To protect her at all costs.





Chapter

Thirty





SUNDAY





My breath came in thready gasps as I tried to draw in air through the thick black hood tied over my head. By the sounds of Moira struggling beside me and the steady stream of creative insults she hurled at our assailants, I could tell her head was also covered. But she was alive, and knowing that gave me hope. If we were together, we could get out of this.

The van we’d been shoved into before they blinded us came to a rough stop, and I jerked forward, unable to catch myself since my hands were bound behind my back. The silver cuffs burned every time they rubbed against the tender skin of my wrists. I collided with something cool and flat, my head throbbing at the bone-jarring impact. Shit, I was going to have a bruise.

Whoever was driving cut the engine, and the vehicle jostled before two doors slammed shut. This might be our only chance to speak without being overheard. I blinked away the pain and whispered urgently, “Can you get any sense of where we are?”

“No. Whatever they put on my hands is keeping my magic contained. Fucking asshole hunters.”

“Fuck, mine too. We’re going to have to brute squad this, then.”

“You’re on the brute squad?”

“I am the brute squad.”

“Since when?”

“Just follow my lead, okay?”

“What lead? I can’t see a damn thing. How am I supposed to follow you?”

“Moira—” but there wasn’t time for anything further. Cool air rushed over my skin as our captors threw open the sliding door.

“Lookie what we got here, a bitch and a witch.” The man’s deep cockney accented voice covered me like a layer of dirty oil. “I just wanted one, but you brought me two.”

“Touch me, and I’ll bite it off, I swear,” Moira growled.

I inwardly groaned. So much for following my lead.

“Oh, I like ‘em feisty. This is going to be more fun than I thought.”

Rustling sounded to my left, like clothes and skin brushing against each other. There was a soft grunt followed by the unmistakable sound of a boot meeting bone.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” he snarled.

“No, I’m the witch, remember?” Moira said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

“Take them inside and lock the door. I don’t want to see them until it’s time to torture the information we need out of ‘em. I’m gonna enjoy this one.”

“You always enjoy the torture part, boss.” A male voice came from somewhere to my left.

“True, but this is going to be sweeter. I got dibs on the witch.”

A hand grasped me hard about the arm, pulling me unceremoniously out of the van. I stumbled as I tried to catch my balance, tripping over my feet as I was pulled forward. Part of me was shouting to fight, to break free, but attempting to fight while blinded, with my hands bound, was hardly ideal. And there was Moira to think about. I couldn’t just leave her here. We were going to need to wait until their guard was down.

Still, I made a show of resisting, trying to tug out of the man’s grasp. Pain exploded from the side of my face as his free hand cracked across my cheek. I tasted the copper tang of blood in my mouth where my lip had split.