“She’s going to die—or she’s already dead. And it’s my fault.”
“I know where she is.”
His attention snapped to Nic’s. “You do?”
“Had a lucky break yesterday. Been asking around, trying to find out more about Jonas and his family. Learned where his sister lives. They have a storm shed, which is where I think she’s being held.”
His breath caught. “You think? Or do you know?”
“I don’t know for sure since I haven’t seen her, but it’s being guarded. A woman goes in once a day with a tray of food and water and comes out with an empty one. I only left since I knew I had to send a message to...well, to you. And here you are.”
The smallest piece of hope returned to Theon’s heart. “Take me there immediately.”
• • •
If Cleo had learned one thing in her three days of captivity it was this—Felicia Agallon hated her every bit as much as Jonas did. But despite this hate, the girl observed her brother’s orders to bring Cleo food once a day—which consisted of stale rye bread and well water, made palatable only by the addition of honey. The first time, as Felicia scowled at her across the shadows of the small and cold, windowless shed with only a tiny, ragged hole in the roof to let in any light, Cleo looked down at the water with wariness.
“Is it poisoned?”
“Would you blame me if it was?”
Cleo was going to argue, but she held her tongue. “Not really.”
Felicia studied her for a few moments of uncomfortable silence. “It’s not poisoned. Jonas wants you to keep breathing, although I’m not sure why.”
Still, Cleo waited as long as she could before she drank or ate anything. For much of her time, she tried to sleep on a pile of straw, sipped water, and nibbled at the hard pieces of bread. It was as far removed from luxury as she’d ever experienced.
She tried to chew through the ropes binding her wrists, but that didn’t work. Even if she succeeded, the chain around her ankle was another serious problem. Also, the shack was locked from the outside and guarded. She couldn’t let herself think of her sister, or her father, or Theon. She was a mouse caught in a trap with no escape, waiting for the cat to return.
Waiting.
And waiting.
After what felt like an eternity, but that she later figured out was barely more than three days, she heard something. Shouts. Grunts. Slams.
Then there was a knock at the door.
Fear rendered her very quiet and still. There was another bang, louder this time. Then voices, muffled. She held her breath and tried to be brave enough to face whatever dark demon might burst through.
Then it occurred to her that whoever was outside wasn’t trying to knock, they were trying to break down the door. Finally it swung inward. Cleo shielded her eyes as painfully bright sunlight streamed into the darkness.
When Theon entered the room, her mouth fell open with shock at the same time that her heart leapt in her chest.
“See?” Nic said with triumph. “I knew she was in here.”
“Is anyone else here?” Theon demanded. It took her a moment before she realized he was speaking to her.
She tried to stop gaping at the two of them. “I...what? Here? No, nobody’s here right now. Just me. But there are guards outside.”
“I took care of them already.”
Nic rushed to her side and grabbed her arms. “Cleo, are you all right? Did that savage touch you?”
The concern she saw on his face made tears fill her eyes. “I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.”
Nic let out an audible sigh of relief and hugged her tightly against him. “I was so worried.”
Theon didn’t say anything, but he came toward her when Nic finally released her. His jaw was tight. She almost cringed away from him since he looked completely livid.