Dime Store Magic (Otherworld 3)

I opened my eyes and tried to wriggle away. He reached down for my breast, then stopped before his fingers touched me. He held his hand there a moment, then squeezed it into a fist and pulled back.

"Not yet," he murmured. "Prolong the fun."

He grabbed my hips. I kicked at him, but he only tugged me sideways, so I was facing the front of the van. Then he reached down and hiked my skirt up around my waist. I writhed and bucked, trying to get away, but he only grinned broader.

"Red silk," he said, chuckling as he touched my panties. "A matching set, of course.

Very nice. Poor Lucas. That boy probably didn't know what hit him. You sure knew what you were doing, honey. I gotta give you credit for that. A first-class ticket to the good life ... even if it did mean screwing that geek sorcerer." He smiled and ran a finger up the inside of my thigh. "If you gotta go, I figure the least I can do is give you a better send-off."

He took another look at me, then straightened and went back to the driver's seat. As the van pulled onto the road, he readjusted the rearview mirror so he could see me.

"There now, that's better," he said. "Couldn't ask for a better view."

My fear crystallized to rage, blind rage. The van swerved onto the shoulder. Friesen swore. My head bounced up, then slammed down on the metal floor. Something jabbed into my scalp as Friesen yanked the van back onto the road.

"Damn," he said glancing in the mirror and chuckling. "More of a distraction than I thought."

The cut in my scalp throbbed. I twisted to see the corner of a metal strip of edging protruding from the van's side. I wriggled upward until I'd aligned the jutting metal with my gag. Then I lifted my head, trying to snag the top edge of the cloth. The van hit a washboard of ruts and the metal sliced my cheek.

Friesen's gaze went back to the mirror. I stopped and waited until he'd looked his fill and returned his attention to driving. I brushed my cheek against the metal strip. This time the gag caught.

I wriggled the cloth down over my top lip. Then the van hit a bump and the snag came loose. I worked my jaw until enough of my mouth was free that I could mumble. Then I cast the suffocation spell. Friesen coughed and I froze.

He glanced in the mirror again and smiled. "Seem to be getting a bit short of breath. Must be those red panties. Let's see if I can't find a place to pull over."

When he looked away, I cast again. Nothing. Quickly I recast. He coughed, then wheezed. The van swerved. Friesen fought to keep it on the road, gasping for what seemed like an eternity. Then the van went off the road, thudding over grass.

The right side dipped. For a moment, the van continued thumping along, slowing, sliding into the ditch. Then the world spun. I flew from the floor, hit the side, then struck the roof, knocking around in the van until I didn't know which end was up. Then everything stopped.

When I lifted my head, the seats were over my head. The van had come to rest on its roof. I shifted, trying to flip onto my back. The van groaned and trembled, then settled and went still.

I looked around, searching for something that had broken off sharp. The window nearest to me had broken, but it was safety glass. Useless. I looked overhead. One of the seats had broken, exposing a metal rod that looked suitably sharp. It took about twenty minutes and plenty of cursing, but I finally cut through the bindings on my hands. I undid my legs, then crawled out through the broken window.

Friesen was still in his seat belt, hanging upside down. He had a gash on his head. His eyes were closed. I crept forward and saw that he was unconscious but alive. Though I was tempted to do something more painful to the bastard, I let him be. Unconscious was good enough.

I spent the next few minutes searching Friesen and the van for a cell phone. Of course I couldn't find one. That would be too easy. Finally I gave up and sealed the doors with the strongest lock spells I had. As I fastened my bra and buttoned my blouse, I looked around. The van had landed in a field. When I got to the road, I paused to get my bearings. I had a decision to make. To return to the house or to go for help? It seems an obvious choice, doesn't it? I'm not stupid. Surely I should have realized that the wisest course of action would be to get to safety, bring in some muscle, then go back for Savannah. But I couldn't do that. Right now, I knew where to find her. If I went for help, she might not be there when I returned. Yes, it was insane, but I had to go back.

I headed deeper into the fields, out of sight of the road, then began the long walk back to the house. What would I do when I got there? I didn't know. If I could rescue Savannah, I would. It seemed unlikely I could do it alone. I admit that. If it wasn't possible, maybe I could get a message to her, telling her I'd return. At the very least, I could assess the situation, go for help, then hurry back to keep watch over her from a distance.

We must have driven at least three miles. Fortunately, Friesen had turned only once and the roads were spaced far enough apart that I could easily guess where to turn. After about a mile of tramping through the fields, I heard a distant motor and froze.

Though I was too far from the road to be spotted, I crouched and waited for the vehicle to pass. A farm pickup finally drove by, moving well below the speed limit. Once it was out of sight, I straightened and resumed walking.

I'd gone about another mile when the faintest notes of a scream blasted through the silence. I dropped to the ground like a shot. The fields were silent. I waited another minute, but when all remained quiet, I rose and began moving forward, slower now.

I'd gone about another hundred yards when I saw a stretch of trees surrounding what looked like a two-story white house. Yes, there had been huge evergreens along each side, as a windbreak. Before I could break into a run, I picked up the sound of voices. I dove for the ground again and lay flat on my stomach in the long grass.

"I'm not going back in there!" Sandford, his voice shrill.

"If I tell you to, you will." Nast, cool and calm.

"No, I will not. As of now, I'm no longer a member of your fucking organization. I quit, you got that? Quit!"

"You have a contract."

"You want me to tell you where you can shove that contract? I am not going in that house. She's your daughter. You get her out."

A yelp and a thud in quick succession. Then silence. I inched forward until I could see the two men through the trees. They stood in the side yard. Sandford crouched on the ground, nose and mouth streaming blood. Nast stood a few feet away, arms crossed, waiting.