Bounty Hunter (The Rover 1)

He turned his head to look at me. “You can call me Fin. As for what I am...we can discuss that later. I haven’t forgotten I owe you an answer.”

Fin. I turned his name over and over in my head. I’d never heard of a creature with that name. I tried to avoid supernatural cases if I could help it, being the fragile breakable human type.

“So? Are you going to kill me?”

He didn’t look at me now, focusing out his passenger window. The driver in the front hadn’t even opened the divider to check on us once. Were all his employee’s drones for his magic?

“I told you. I’m not a bad guy. I can’t say I won’t kill you. You are so very forthcoming with your opinion, after all, but I promise to try not to kill you. How’s that?”

I stared at him, mouth open. “Not comforting at all. Thank you.”

When he didn’t respond, I tried to focus on where we were headed. Out of the city as far as I could tell. The packed gridded streets had given way to suburbs with pretty picket fences.

Worry ate at my gut. Where on earth was he taking me? Obviously somewhere no one would hear my screams.

We weaved around country roads to open fields. I loved the city. Country air did terrible things to my hair. It had learned to thrive on smog and pollution.

“Are we there yet?” I asked.

He grunted and then looked over at me as if he’d completely forgotten my presence. “Cute. Actually, this is as good a time as any. We’ll be at my house soon and unfortunately I can’t have you knowing its location.”

“What does that mean?”

He tilted his head, his hair falling forward around his chin. It was the last thing I saw before the world went dark.

Chapter Six

I woke up to a ceiling so ornate it belonged in a museum, or one of those steamy period movies which always seemed to contain the same long, fancy hallway.

There were carvings in the molding, and gold leafed edges. I continued to stare at the beauty of the room from my position flat on my back. The closed curtains ran from the floor to the high ceiling in a champagne silk. The only light in the room came from a lamp on a fancy secretary desk in the corner.

I slowly sat up, waiting for the headache to return, but thankfully there was none. My stomach let out a long gurgle.

My watch read ten p.m. which meant I hadn’t eaten at all today, if it was even the same day. Could my host assume control of my body while I remained unconscious? Not a fun thought.

I scooted over to the edge of the bed and then noticed my outfit. Someone had put me in a black silk nightgown. It had spaghetti straps and lace trimming the edges as it rested on the tops of my feet. It fit as if it were made custom for my petite frame. I didn’t have the mental capacity to think about who’d changed me while I’d been asleep.

I didn’t want to know, and if I was honest, it didn’t matter; I needed to focus on getting out of this apparently well-furnished prison.

I didn’t see my clothes or bag anywhere. No phone. No computer. Nothing to use as a weapon. Had Fin done this before and knew to remove any sharp objects?

I hopped off the edge of the bed, a good foot down from where my feet hung over the side. The floors were a shiny hardwood and warm under my feet. I padded over to the desk to see if there were any pens, letter openers; hell, I’d even take a tape dispenser if it weighed enough to hurt when I used it to hit someone in the face. But after a thorough look, I found nothing except a few pieces of paper and some dust bunnies. Well, at least this room didn’t get used often.

I wandered around, looking under the nightstands, under the bed, in the armoire. Nothing to use as a weapon and no way to escape. The windows were tall but didn’t open. They appeared more decorative than functional.

I pushed at the panes and then lay my face against the chilled glass to check the thickness. Oh yeah, I wouldn’t be able to break that without something heavy. No immediate exits, no clothes, no shoes.

I’d been in worse situations, strangely enough.

I paced back and forth. Movement usually helped me think better than sitting still, a trait the chief had hated about me when I was a teenager.

Being stuck on desk duty meant I didn’t have to check into work. No one would come looking for me after the meltdown I had the last time everyone was there. Hawk and the chief would eventually reach out but likely not for a week. Somehow Fin had found the most opportune time for him to kidnap me.

Just my luck.

I crossed the room to the windows again and tested the give on the frame and the seal. Nope, wouldn’t budge even when I put my shoulder into it. Wasn’t this some kind of fire code infraction? Not that it mattered, as I looked out and realized my room was three floors from the dark garden below my window.

I’d watched enough movies to know I wouldn’t be able to tie together bed sheets properly, even if I could get out the window. With this flimsy nightgown on, I would die of exposure or worse.