Hydromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 4)

It was a hard life, but one that suited her. When Cain had offered her a position in his paranormal crime task force, he’d offered her a reason to live. He’d given her life purpose. Since then, Joss and Lann had become her family, and later Clelia, when she’d joined their team.

She’d never expected to find someone like Tim, someone she could call her own. He was her match in every way. She could spend the rest of her life with him, easily, but she couldn’t condone his involvement in the arms dealing. She was bound to Tim, but also to her oath. She was torn between the two—her vow and her love. Dedicating her life to fighting crime had saved her soul, but with Tim, she’d started living again. The truth was, she loved him more than life. She’d give hers to keep him safe.

Right now her situation didn’t look good. Soon she’d be dead. There was no doubt about Ilano’s intention. If she could stay alive until she’d found a way to save Tim, the sacrifice would be worth it. Giving her life was the most noble thing she could do, just as Darren had done. She tried to find strength in her oath. This was what she’d signed up for, the risk she took to save the world from the second Dark Age, this time not the control of knowledge, but the control of communication that Godfrey was after. It wasn’t her vow or her memories of Darren, however, that kept her going. It was the need to keep Tim alive that gave her courage.

No one entered the basement for a long time. She’d thought by now they would’ve started whatever plan Ilano had in mind, but they left her naked and shivering in the dark. They fed her just enough to keep her alive, which meant they had more in store for her. She needed to escape, to get to Tim. Her shaking was now from more than hunger and cold. The withdrawal had set in. Judging by the symptoms alone, she must’ve been a captive for three days. Somehow, she had to get them to uncuff her. That was her only chance.

She moved her legs, bending them to relieve the cramping. A shuffling noise by the door stilled her. The lock turned. A second later, the door creaked open and sunshine poured down the staircase. She blinked. A tall, broad figure blocked out the bright daylight. Even without seeing his face or the shape of his muscular body, she would’ve felt him, smelled him, known it was him. She groaned in fear for him, for his safety. She needed to call out his name, to tell him to run as far as he could, but Tim was already making his way down the steps, his face etched with anger and dread.

“If you hurt her,” Tim said, “I swear to God, you won’t live to see another night.”

Gold Tooth laughed behind him. “Better go see for yourself.”

Pockmarks appeared in the door, switching on the overhead light.

“Jesus,” Tim said as his gaze found her. He hurried across the floor and stopped in front of her. Dragging his palms in examining strokes over her body, he asked in a clipped voice, “Are you injured?” He traced the line of her healed wound. “They cut you. And—” He stilled. “Ilano … his smell is all over you. Maya, what did he do to you?”

Before she could utter a word, Tim’s fangs extended. He paid no attention to Pockmarks and Gold Tooth behind him.

Maya tried to warn him. “Tim, they—”

“You need my bite,” he said tersely. “You need my blood and my virus. It’ll heal you.”

A familiar click sounded just as he lowered his head. Gold Tooth had released the safety of his gun and was pointing it in Tim’s face.

Tim jerked his head toward the threat, his eyes red. “What the hell are you doing? I’m going to rip you apart, piece by piece. You know that, don’t you?”

“Against the wall,” the man replied, “next to your bitch.”

When Tim didn’t move, Pockmarks pushed his pistol between her legs. “Or the gun gives her a blowjob.” His laugh was cold. He pressed up hard, parting her folds with the barrel. She cried out, closing her thighs to try and expel the invasion.

Fury contorted Tim’s face. Slowly, he moved around, taking up a position next to her. His eyes glowed in the dim light as Gold Tooth clamped silver chains around his wrists, jerking on each one to test the hold. Even with his strength as a dhampir, he couldn’t break the silver chains.

“I wonder what she sounds like when she comes,” Pockmarks said. “Maybe we should see.”

She clenched her teeth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of eliciting a response.

“I’m going to fucking kill you both,” Tim said, “with that barrel lodged up your ass.”