Shaman - An Enchantress Novel Book 2

Chapter 7

The first thing Adie felt on returning to consciousness was the thumping pain in the back of her head. Her eyes flickered open. She blinked through the haze of drugs still present in her system. Something thin cut into her wrist when she tried to move her hand to test for a lump. Her hands were bound behind her back by something that wasn’t metal - it didn’t react when she tried to manipulate it. It was something man-made, probably a plastic cable tie.

Shock of ice-cold water dumped over her, chased away the remaining sleep. She sputtered and coughed trying to clear her airways. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Ms Williams.”

Her head snapped around to face the owner of the voice, having to blink water from her eyes to bring him into focus. Silver haired and a little over weight, his white shirt pulled taut, straining the buttons across his portly stomach. Her abductor presented her with fake smile.

“Where’s Rick?” she asked, glancing around the small room.

His wicked grin exposed sharp in-human teeth. “Somewhere else.” He laughed, motioning another man beyond Adie’s limited view to step forward. “A towel please.”

The man fled, returning a brief moment later with a rough textile to dry her face.

The first pulled a phone from his pocket as he left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Adie could make out bits and pieces of his one sided conversation.

“Sir, she’s awake… No trouble, he’s still unconscious… Do we bring them both or just the girl? …Yes, Sir, before nightfall.”

“Where am I?” she asked the towel bearer when she heard retreating footsteps outside the door. He ignored her, stepping back against the wall with his arms behind him in military fashion. She tried again. “What do you want with us?” Again, he stared straight ahead without acknowledging her. “Please,” she begged, “tell me what’s going on?”

He jumped to attention when the door swung wide to allow a taller man entrance. Much like the man already present, he wore black combat fatigues, highly polished black boots and crew cut hairstyle, confirming Adie’s military assumption.

“We’re moving out” he stated, indicating with a wave of his hand that he needed help with Adie. Each took an arm. “If you struggle or put up a fight you will be drugged again,” he advised her as she tried to shake them off. “Your friend will be punished in your place.”

Her resistance ceased. “Is Rick okay?” she asked, allowing them to guide her.

“He’ll be fine as long as you co-operate,” the taller assured her, leading her down a torch-lit tunnel.

She looked around; they were still in the tunnels near the Shaman’s home. “Is the Shaman Okay? Did you hurt her?”

“For the moment she’s unharmed.”

They pushed her through a large cavern with several archways. Adie scanned them all hoping to catch a glimpse of Rick, but they were all dark.

“Where are you taking us?”

“Enough questions,” he interrupted her as she was about to ask more.

Rhythmic thumping in the distance grew increasingly louder as they made their way through passage after passage. A fierce wind howled, gaining strength until it almost knocked her off her feet when they rounded the final corner into bright sunlight. She squinted against the intensity and flying debris, realizing the cause of the noise and wind was their way out.

Her shorter escort pushed her head down a little as they approached the helicopter, shoving her roughly inside the cab behind the tall one, who then reached across her lap to fasten her seatbelt.

Rushing blood in Adie’s ears, from her panic-induced heart rate, drowned out the noise of the engine as the helicopter slowly rose in the air. Once it cleared the ravine, the whole thing tilted, shooting forward quicker than Adie thought it was capable of moving. They soared over the mountain range in the opposite direction to Rick’s home and descended almost immediately, circling around a lake before coming in to hover over a small grassy area on the periphery of a small village.

Columns of dust filled the air, blocking everything on the ground from view. Adie felt the panic rise again. Drawing deep breaths, she attempted to stop the bile rising from her stomach.

Tall guy trust a paper sick bag at her, holding it over her mouth and nose. The bag expanded and contracted with every one of her sharp, hyperventilating breaths.

The beating stopped its intensity, blades slowed, eventually allowing the dust to settle. They were on the ground and the engine shut off. 

Guards surrounded the house closest to them. Two, dressed identically to her guards, flanked either side of the main door. Along the side of the house, she could clearly see another four evenly spaced along the length. In the window reflection of a building behind the main house, she could see two more. Huge cougars sat alert around the boundary. Beyond that were numerous shed like structures, creating a small village around the main house. 

Her attention was drawn back inside the helicopter when the shorter guy pulled on her arm to help her from the seat. She slid onto the ground, his arms closing around her to keep her upright when her legs threatened to give out.

“Thanks,” she whispered against his chest, her dishevelled emotions allowing her manners free reign despite the circumstance.

He released her and stepped back, lightly holding her arm just above the elbow. “You’re welcome.”

They moved toward the grand house when the tall one joined them, the guards parting as the front door opened to allow them entrance.

“Boss is waiting in the front room,” one of them advised.

Upon reaching what Adie assumed was the front room, short guy released her and knocked on the door.

“The witch, Sir,” the taller of the two introduced her and left the room, closing the door after him.

Adie stood her ground as the boss approached. He took her face in his hand, turning it left and right while examining the scar.

“A pretty little thing you are,” he pondered. She jerked her head away. “And so full of spirit. I shall enjoy breaking you.” Twisting the knife he’d used to cut the wrist ties against his palm, he moved away, taking a seat next to the fireplace. “Come, have a seat, we have a few things to discuss.”

She did as he instructed, lowering herself apprehensively into the seat opposite him. He grinned at her obedience, exposing his sharp fangs. She gasped and he laughed at her reaction.

“I thought all vamps were meant to be striking in the looks department,” she snipped at him, glorying when a snarl replaced the wicked grin.

He was on her in a heartbeat pinning her to the back of the seat. Using her hair, he pulled her head to the side to expose her neck so he could suckle her, trailing his tongue from her clavicle to her chin.

“Don’t touch me!” she commanded him as her knee connected with his groin.

He writhed on the floor. Whether a vamp or not, he was still a man and she knew where to hit him for maximum pain.

In a matter of moments, he was on his feet and struck her, sending her sprawling into a nearby wall. She barely managed to register the blow before sliding to the floor in agony. The result of her low chanting wiped the satisfied grin from his face, however, as the knife he’d left on the coffee table answered her call for metal and impaled in his chest.

He eased it out. She threw a small fireball, hitting him in the same area as the knife. He swatted the flame with his hand to put it out, growling in frustration.

“Argh, Ms Williams, as much fun as this is, the foolishness stops now or have you forgotten where your boyfriend is?”

“What do you want from me?” she demanded.

“Sit and we will talk.”