Iniquitous (The Marked #3)(3)
His pointy eyebrows pulled together. “I really suggest you don’t try any—”
I didn’t think; I lunged at him. My feet kicked off the ground like two cannonballs, my arms extended before me, hands ready to claw and tear and maim. His own arms shot out in front of him as he tried to block the impact, but it was futile. I hit him like a ton of bricks and knocked him to the ground in a pile of tangled limbs. Like a feral animal, I straddled his torso with my legs and clawed at his face, ripping at his skin with my jagged nails as he bucked and grunted beneath me. All my pain, my sorrow, my anger, my fear—it all came raining down on him like a thunderstorm of blazing asteroids.
I was determined to make him suffer the way I'd suffered and I wasn't going to stop for anything. No more waiting. No more crying. I was reborn inside the moment, breathing in life as I fought to take away his. And then, amid the chaos of swinging arms and flayed flesh, he pulled his arm back; his hand balled into a tight fist.
It was the last thing I saw before he struck me with it.
I woke up to the sound of my feet scraping against the concrete floor as two men dragged me down a narrow, barely lit passageway. My hands were tied behind my back and my vision was inky and blurring at the corners. I was already weak from days of famine, but that massive blow to my chin just accelerated my decline into uselessness.
“Welcome back, bitch,” said the one who clocked me earlier. His hair was dark and unkempt and he had a smug grin on his face like it was something special to be able to knock out a starved, seventeen-year-old girl.
Douchebag.
“Where are we?” I struggled against gravity to keep my head up long enough to make out my surroundings.
“Bag her,” said the taller one with the deep voice and the slicked-back, blond hair.
“Wait—” A burlap sack descended over my face before I could finish the plea.
As if I wasn’t at enough of a disadvantage.
We walked the rest of the way in silence; or rather they walked and I got dragged along against my will. We made our way up a never-ending staircase, confirming that I had indeed been underground. Keeping my body limber, I conserved my energy and let them do most of the heavy lifting as I tried to figure out where I’d been taken and if I’d have another chance to attempt an escape.
“This way,” said the dark-haired one. “Engel’s expecting her in the great hall.”
I felt my body being pulled to the right, towards the great hall. Whatever the heck that was. They dragged me along for a few more paces before coming to a full stop.
“Stand,” ordered Deep Throat, and they yanked me up by my arms. A moment later, the burlap bag came off.
My lids fluttered as I acclimated to the harsh light and then quickly surveyed the room, trying to take in as much of the space as possible. It was a massive rectangular room with high ceilings and arched windows lining each side. There was something very cathedral about it, almost regal. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I'd almost think we were in a castle.
An old ass one.
My eyes immediately fell on Engel who was seated in a red velour, high back chair with two men planking either side of him. Slightly more to the right was another man. One I recognized.
Dominic Huntington.
He shook his head tersely. It would have been unnoticeable had it not been for the stare-down I was giving him.
Not trusting my eyes anymore, I blinked him in and out of sight to see if he would disappear.
Stay calm, love. Don’t draw any attention, he said to my mind, making it feel like something was crawling through my brain. Even though he was a Revenant now, he had retained his Shifter abilities which included telepathy—his irritating ability to speak to my mind.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” grinned Engel, his arms outstretched as though inviting me to take a look around.
I didn’t oblige. I kept my eyes pinned on him and his oversized forehead. The only thing I was interested in doing was pouncing on him and knocking that self-satisfied grin off his face. Unfortunately, the two Rev’s death-clutch around my upper arms made that fantasy an impossible one.
“I trust you’re finding your new accommodations enjoyable.”
Seriously? What a sadistic prick.
His grin widened as I silently scowled at him. “How about the food and drink?”
My stomach rumbled at the mere mention of food.
“Hmm, I guess she isn’t in the mood to gab,” he said, feigning surprise as he glanced around at his men.
I mumbled something inaudible under my breath, clenching and gritting my teeth as I grumbled the words out.
“Did you say something, child? Speak up,” he demanded.
“I said I’m going to kill you when I get out of here.” My voice was cold and hard and filled with the promise of death. I almost didn’t recognize it as my own. Almost.
“When you get out of here?” He laughed. “That’s an admirable dream, but I assure you, Daughter of Hades, you will not be seeing the light of day again in this lifetime.”
A chill traveled down my back, but I didn’t utter a word in response. There was no point going back and forth with him. He was just a middleman anyway. I had bigger fish to fry, namely the Dark Legion, and when I was done with that cookout, I would make sure to come back for Engel. In fact, I vowed to.
I glanced around the room, noting the number of men he had, and any possible escape routes.