Bounty Hunter (The Rover 1)

I sat on the bed again, hiked the silk up around my hips so I could sit cross legged, and took a deep breath. When pacing didn’t work, I would sit, until that didn’t work, and then I would resume my walk. It was a process long honed from hours of waiting and thinking.

Fin hadn’t come to check on me. Right now, I might even agree to his demands if I could have a damn cheeseburger, with fries, obviously. My stomach let out another lurch at t

he thought of food.

I closed my eyes and let my breathing even out. There had to be a way out of this room. Obviously, Fin needed me, so he would come for me at some point. I just didn’t know when, and if I could handle the wait.

For the first time, I understood how my targets felt as they sweated in the box waiting for me to interrogate them. Except this wasn’t the Office, and I didn’t know what to expect from Fin. At the very least, he could control my mind and my body. At the most...I didn’t know because I still couldn’t figure out what species he belonged to.

Warlock? Vampire? Fae? A mix or hybrid?

“Fuck,” I whispered, simply because it made me feel better to curse out loud.

It occurred to me I could yell for him. Maybe he’d respond if I got annoying enough.

“Fin!” I shouted.

The sound rang through the room. I waited to hear something. A response, or heavy footsteps in the hallway. Nothing. I missed the cacophony of city sounds outside my tiny apartment window right now. Honking, shouting, cursing, all of it.

I tried again. “Fin!”

I waited; my heartbeat slowed back down as I tried to focus on listening instead of tensing up for his entrance.

Nothing. Maybe he wasn’t on this floor. Seeing as they’d stashed me away in the back of the manor maybe he just couldn’t hear me.

I climbed off the bed, and the nightgown fluttered back around my ankles. I appreciated the style, if not the execution. If a man wanted to buy me nice clothes, I usually wouldn’t object. Maybe just not while I was unconscious.

I didn’t care if this douche could control me. When I saw him again, I would get one good punch in before he could stop me. If he was a man, he would take it knowing he deserved it.

You know what? Fuck this. I climbed off the bed, went to the door, and started pounding on it. I gripped the knob to shake it. Maybe if I threatened their interior design, they would let me out.

When I twisted the handle, it opened.

Oh, hell. Rule number of one of captivity, Zoey, you idiot, check the door before you spend an hour trying to escape through other means.

I opened the door slowly to a dark hallway. Soft green wallpaper lined the wall across from my door. The floors were the same wood of my room, but graced with a long ornate rug that ran the entire length of the endless corridor.

I stepped out the door, looked down the hall to my left, and then to my right. My instincts rarely let me down, so I listened this time and headed left. After a few minutes of wandering in near darkness, I felt the polished wood of a stair rail under my palm.

My eyes adjusted, and I carefully walked down a set of stairs to come to a landing, and then another set of stairs. Rich people. I shook my head and kept walking until I reached what I assumed was the next floor. No lights, no people that I could make out in the dark. I kept going to the ground floor.

A beam of light cut through the darkness and I crept toward it, keeping my steps light and my gaze roving for Fin to jump out at any second.

Someone grabbed me from behind. I grabbed their hand, twisted, and threw them over my hip to land splayed on their back on the floor. A stout woman in an apron glared up from me in a heap.

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “I’m a little jumpy.”

I helped her to her feet, but she shoved my hands away as I tried to adjust her skewed uniform.

Well, fine then. It was her fault for grabbing me in a dark foyer.

“If you point me toward my clothes and the door, I’ll just be on my way.”

She glared more and pointed toward the lit doorway.

“Nope, not going in there. Especially if he is in there.” I spun on my heel toward the towering double door I assumed was the exit.

A hand caught my shoulder again and this time I shoved it off instead of taking her down. “Touch me again and I’ll break a few fingers. I don’t care if you are just doing your job. I’m being held against my will.”