Carrow's stomach growled loudly, reminding her that no one was bringing gruel to her cell this morning - and that she hadn't really eaten in over a week. Her thirst was even worse, her mouth as dry as the swirling dust.
She rose with a grimace, her every muscle protesting. With her first step, the blisters riddling her feet threatened to burst. Her healing wrist ached, and smoke burned her eyes and nose.
Ignoring her discomfort, she set out, with no idea of where to go, intent only on sating her thirst and hunger. She figured she was s.o.l. on the former - short of locating the water mines. The ones guarded by Slaine.
But she had to try. Hours had passed since she'd had a drop of water, and last night she'd run for miles in this desert climate. Bad enough for anyone, but especially for Carrow, who hailed from a bayou city known for its moisture.
At every turn there, she was inundated with damp gulf breezes, pounding showers, or sultry humidity.
How Carrow yearned to get herself and Ruby back to the city! To return to their wonderful coven and an existence filled with friends, pranks, and revelry.
For most of her childhood, Carrow had been as good as alone, her neglectful mother and father showing no interest in her. Her toys had echoed in mausoleum-like mansions where "lowly" servants were forbidden to speak to her.
Then her parents had turned her over to the coven at Andoain, the hearth and home where she'd met her beloved mentor Elianna and eventually Mari - a place where Carrow had been enveloped by a sisterhood of witches, cherished and protected.
She desperately missed everyone, but especially Mari.
Though Mari was so full of power - more so than any other Wiccan - she couldn't use the majority of it without gazing into a mirror, her focusing tool. Only problem? Whenever she communed directly with a mirror, she accidentally mesmerized herself, unable to break her gaze.
Carrow had nicknamed her Glitch, short for glass witch.
The last time it'd happened, Mari had mesmerized herself so deeply that her Lykae husband had barely broken the enthrallment. Apparently, it'd been a bloody, grueling affair and far too close a call.
If Mari hadn't sent in the cavalry by now, then she wouldn't be able to help without going to the mirror. And if that was the case, then Carrow hoped no help was coming.
Don't do anything stupid, Glitch.
Wait ... had she heard that growling sound again? Not her stomach? The tiny hairs on her nape rose. She scanned around but couldn't see more than a few feet in any direction. Keep moving.
Her powers and her cloaking spell were already faltering, which meant that she was no longer invisible. The beasts she continued to hear could find her now. As could those ghouls.
Would that vampire demon search for her during the day, or would the dim sunlight be enough to confine him to the shadows?
She lifted her gaze to the brown, hazy sky and felt no warmth. With the dust buffeted about, he probably could emerge, especially since he was a halfling of sorts.
But here's hoping the vemon holes up.
Just as she was licking her chapped lips, her stomach growled again. Water, food. Gods, she hated the outdoors! She'd always found it hellish - and that was before the outdoors had been situated in hell. Bizarre plants sprouted in profusion here, all petrified, of course. Nothing was green in this place.
Keep going, Carrow. One stinging foot in front of the other. She found a rock face and tromped alongside it, figuring she could be ambushed only from three sides.
After an hour of following the rock and "hunting," she concluded that there were no Big Gulps to be self-served or juicy berries to be plucked, no mouthwatering steaks growing on trees or ice cream ripe for harvesting.
Frack.
Half-delirious, she muttered, "I haaaaaate this place."
This was all Slaine's fault. He had to go all batshit crazy on her. Because he'd made her flee, her thirst and every blister on her feet were his fault. Dixon had nailed him dead to rights: brutish, filthy, severely disturbed. I despise his abominable ass!
Urban Carrow shouldn't ever be in a place like this, wouldn't be if not for him. She raised her grubby hands to her tangled hair, plucking free a twig.
Frack, frack, frack.
She noticed her clunky ring was loose on her finger. The Order's gruel diet had done a number on her previously wood-worthy figure. With a weary sigh, she lowered her hands to stare at her emerald ring.
Carrow's parents had given it to her on her twelfth birthday, directly before they'd abandoned her at Andoain.
Her father had visited there once, years later, to get her into college. Upon leaving, he'd absently patted her on the head, saying, "Send us report cards, and we'll continue sending money."
When she'd dropped out - because there was little happiness to be found on campus during finals - she'd sent a letter to her parents instead of a report card. In it, she'd written: "If you're actually taking the time to read this, then go to hell and shove your money up your asses."
Without fail, the next check had come.
I'd never treat Ruby as they did me. Reminded of why she was here, Carrow tried to reason out a game plan.
Since this demon was violently out of control, she couldn't even approach him, much less communicate with him. The Order's plan - witch lures vemon to portal - was laughable.
She narrowed her eyes. Had those mortals known she was Slaine's mate? How could they have? Unless they had an oracle or some sort of immortal stoolie slipping them intel.
Maybe that was why Carrow had been chosen so specifically for capture. It wasn't as if they'd just stumbled across her and decided on a nab. They'd sprung her from County.
If the Order had known, then she surely couldn't trust them.
Yet she had to operate under the assumption that they would let her go. Again she thought, What are two witches to them? And Carrow still had no idea where their island was. The Order wouldn't suspect she had the wherewithal to lead anyone back to the facility.
Because she didn't.
Now, Mariketa on the other hand...
In any event, this plan of theirs needed tweaking. They were fools if they thought Slaine could be controlled. They wouldn't be able to predict his strength - even an immortal like her had been shocked by it.
Carrow raised her fingers to her neck, to her healing bite mark. It fully sank in then that Malkom Slaine had taken her blood. There were repercussions from that act so risky she couldn't bear to think about them yet.
Which meant the demon was even more dangerous than she could ever have imagined.
Malkom yanked off the last ghoul's head, already scanning for something else to kill.
Seven ghouls he'd destroyed this night. With no sign of her still. The drive to mate with her was there, but something else - some unfamiliar feeling - weighed on him.