Playboy Princes (Royals of Arbon Academy, #2)(59)

I nodded. "Me too. Spill it, Angel baby."

Something flashed across his face when I said that, but it was gone again too fast for me to name. Weird.

"Coach told me about Zach..." he started, and Jordan groaned.

"Please don't say what I think you're about to say," he begged. "It’s bad enough we have to see him during Society events, but… Just no. "

Rafe grimaced. "Sorry, bro. I couldn’t get his transfer stopped in time. He got a permanent spot here… and a place on the team."

"Fuck!" Jordan yelled, slamming his hand into the already broken table and sending the papers flying once more. It occurred to me that I'd never seen him fight... but I got the feeling he could be pretty badass. Maybe he wasn’t as “light” as I’d thought earlier. There was some darkness there too. I liked it. "I'm sorry, Violet; I need to go and speak with my brother. Are you—"

"Go," I told him, waving off whatever concern he was about to express. "Deal with Zach. I should be going to bed anyway."

His eyes darkened, the amber tones fading into midnight. “Tempting,” I heard him murmur, but he didn’t push it, just leaned over to press a kiss to my lips.

My mouth parted slightly, inviting him in, and he wasted no time, his tongue sweeping across mine. Whatever sleepiness I’d been feeling faded, but with Rafe watching us, it wasn’t the time to get lost in this moment.

Later. Definitely later.

When Jordan left, I couldn’t stay there with Rafe’s enigmatic stare on me. “So, you all good here?” I asked, swallowing hard as I did my best to avoid direct eye contact.

Rafe’s voice was a warm wash of sound. “Yep, I’ll be here a while finishing this up. We’ll send a message to your palm reader when it’s all set in motion. Did Jordan tell you it’ll probably be a week or so before we see the full effect?”

I nodded, stifling a yawn.

“Yeah, he explained the whole chain of events, blah blah. I kind of zoned out when he started talking all tech.”

I thought I heard a little snort of laughter, but when I finally jerked my head up to see him, there was no expression on his face.

“See you later,” I said in a rush, hurrying off.

This time I knew for sure it was laughter that followed me, but I didn’t turn back.

To say I was in a bit of a daze walking to my room would be an understatement. I really hadn’t been sleeping well, and it had taken that small nap to really showcase how tired I was. Apparently I had to stop pacing my room at night and actually try sleeping if I wanted to feel rested.

Who knew?

When I turned the last corridor to my room, I let out another huge yawn, the sort that took over my whole face and closed both eyes.

It was a stupid move, letting my guard down like that; apparently Arbon had made me soft. I sensed the presence a moment before I felt the prick of a needle in my neck. Quick and sharp, it bit into my skin, the burn of whatever was injected heating along my artery.

“Fuck!” I cursed, swinging around and smashing into whoever was behind me.

But it was too late. I got only one good hit, heard a surprisingly feminine cry, and then my legs buckled and everything went black.





Chapter 25





I’d never had an issue with anesthesia. Any time I’d required it, I’d woken up afterward with almost no side effects. This time, though, as my eyes shot open, I was rewarded with a pounding headache.

There was no disorientation, and I remembered that I’d been ambushed, putting me immediately on alert. My eyes darted around as I catalogued my situation.

Laid out flat on a semi-soft surface. Ankles bound. Wrists bound. Head held down by something strapped over my forehead.

It took me another few seconds to figure out what the familiar surface was, and the moment I did, chills of dread ran across my skin, filling my gut with cramps as I jerked at both my hand and ankle restraints. I was on a bed in the medical wing.

“Ah, you’re awake, Ms. Spencer.”

The creepy nurse’s face swam into view as she peered down at me. She wasn’t smiling like she enjoyed this; instead she wore a professional face as if this was all part of her job.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I cried, still trying to work my ankles free. “This is kidnapping and deprivation of liberty.”

She clucked at me, her expression unchanging. “Please, Ms. Spencer. You know that by agreeing to come to Arbon, you gave up all medical rights to your body. You’ve been ignoring my summons for weeks now. This is the next logical step.”

I blinked at her, some of my movements slowing. “You wouldn’t know logic if it bit you on your fucking ass,” I snarled at her. “I think you meant psychotic.”

She busied herself then, fiddling around with some of the instruments on a metal table beside me. I couldn’t see what was there, but I recognized the sounds.

Since she was turned away somewhat, sorting out her torture devices, I focused more fully on escaping. Many years ago I’d dislocated my thumb during a fight, and ever since then, it had been looser, allowing me a wider range of movement. It wouldn’t help me get out of the bands—they felt high quality, with both a buckle and a strap holding me down—but I might have a shot at reaching my palm reader’s emergency call button. Jordan had programmed it to his number, and if he didn’t answer, Rafe’s. So if I could just get to that button...