My mouth tastes metallic and dry, like that time Caelum put ground ironroot in my tea. Though I doubt a dead Fae prince drugged me again. My head throbs, but through the pain memories come spilling back. My walk to work, the woman and her baby, Dane.
My eyes slide open the barest bit, just enough to let me see the shadows of the world around me. I’m on the floor of a moving van, hands bound behind my back. My wrists are tied behind my back, making it impossible for me to roll and look for the woman or her baby, but the naive part of me wants to hope they’re both okay.
Panic tries to claw its way out of me, but I force it down, needing to keep a clear head through the pain.
Don’t move, Lena. Don’t let them know you’re awake.
The vibrations of the road drum against my side, and the car
