Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)(11)

I looked away, desperate to see anything other than the wicked sneer of the blonde above me, only to see the still lit screen of the cell phone reflecting off the dark stone.

“Ilyan!” I screamed, knowing I may not be allowed to live after this point, and hoping that my last warning was not my final goodbye. Ovailia's eyes went wide, her head whipping around in fear as I yelled her brother's name.

"Run!" I yelled.

It did not take her long to locate the light, one pulse of her magic destroying the small box. I only hoped my warning had reached them before the line had gone dead.

"Nice try," Ovailia said, her voice heavy with indifference and anger. "But sadly, I don't think it’s going to work." She smiled, and her face lit up like a maniac. Ilyan would get the same light when going into battle, but instead of giving hope, this one twisted my spine and rippled through my stomach.

I ground the feeling down to my toes, letting it come to rest inside of me in a place that I didn't care about, and squared my jaw at her.

"You have no idea what you are up against," I snarled, happy to see her recoil a bit at my taunt.

"Oh, don't I now?" she said, her crazed energy coming right back into her face. I heard my father laugh from above me, the pressure on my arms increasing as he pulled them, the tendons in my shoulders pulled to their brink. I winced, even though I tried not to, and Ovailia laughed right alongside my father, the ringing of her cell phone drowning out the noise.

"I think I know exactly what I am up against," she said as she pulled the phone from the pocket of her designer jeans. Timothy's hold on my hands lessened as one of his hands moved down to cover my mouth.

"Now, princess," he said, the once sweet pet name spoken with acid, "don't try anything stupid." His hand cupped the entire lower half of my face, the pressure arching my neck back and making it difficult to breathe while also pushing my head painfully into the stone floor. I fought against him, yelled against his palm, but the pressure of his hand hurt worse the more I fought. I stopped struggling with a whimper.

"Nothing stupid," Timothy repeated before increasing his grip even more. I winced and breathed in sharply but kept my mouth shut.

Ovailia smiled at me before putting the phone to her ear, her face and voice changing the second the line connected.

“Ilyan? Ilyan, where are you?" Ovailia said, her voice thin as she pushed emotion into it. "Please tell me you are all right.”

She began to pant as Ilyan spoke, the movement of her voice making it sound like she was running.

“They took her,” Ovailia said sharply, her voice panicked. She looked at me before firing a stream of light into the wall of the room, causing a giant explosion that rocked the floor of the cave. “They took Talon too; I don’t know where he is." She gasped, panted, winced, and screamed softly each action perfectly placed to make it sound like she was fighting someone.

I knew I had to fight Timothy whether I wanted to or not. She was lying to Ilyan, leading him into a trap. My father's grip increased and I winced again, the action silencing me.

“I wouldn’t fight if I were you,” Timothy hissed in my ear, the heat of his breath uncomfortable against my skin. “You wouldn’t want something to happen to that mate of yours.”

My body relaxed as if on a switch. I could still feel the beat of my heart, hear the static of my stress as my brain clung to the panic, but my body relaxed. I felt like a puppet, a foolish little girl who could only do what her father said.

"Timothy dragged Wyn off,” Ovailia finished, her false exhaustion picking up.

“Father, Timothy," Ovailia said, and I heard Timothy's faint chuckle from right above my head. "There are hundreds of them.”

Hundreds. I knew it was true. I had seen the bodies, smelled the blood and the smoke. Edmund had planned this attack well. It was to be his final attack. He wasn't going to let anyone survive. He wouldn’t stop until he killed them all.

“I don’t know how they got in," Ovailia continued, giant crocodile tears rolling down her perfect cheeks and cracking in her voice. She smiled at me, the tears glistening as she flipped her hair. My stomach clenched, and I felt my magic crackle between my fingers in anger. I hated her. I regretted never saying it before, never seeing who she truly was before. She was evil.

"Our whole city... I don’t know how many are going to make it out.”

I groaned and fought him again; I didn't care that he had told me not to. I heard Ovailia's words and knew she was telling the truth, though not quite in the way that she tried selling it to Ilyan. I wanted to claw at her face, to stop this, no matter how futile it was. Timothy stretched his arm out and away from my head, pulling my arms until I felt the tendons in my arms pop. I screamed, and he released his hand from over my mouth just long enough to let the sound flow through the phone. It was all part of their game.

I panted as the tendons in my arms began to repair themselves, the pain lessening as my magic covered it.

“I can try,” Ovailia said, her voice more disappointed than anything else.

She nodded once to Timothy who stretched my arms again. What little repair my body had been able to produce shattered as my scream rent through the air around us, the rumble of explosions overlapping with the sound of my pain.

“And you, Ilyan.” Ovailia smiled and tucked the phone back in her pocket, her wicked eyes never leaving mine as she bent closer to me. Her hair fell around her like a curtain, the effect increasing the terror I felt at being trapped between the two of them. I sucked in breath as Timothy released my mouth, the hold on my hands loosening just enough to let my body begin to heal.