“Anything?” I already knew the answer before I even asked Zayde the question.
“Sorry, mate. No sign of her, or of whoever was on duty. Only place we didn’t look was the building you and Cass already checked.”
“Yeah, she was long gone from there.” Cassius’ voice was sombre. “Where is she?”
“My boys will keep an eye on the docks. But…fuck,” Zayde muttered. “We need to find her.”
Yeah. We did.
Before it was too late.
THREE
It’s so dark.
Slowly, carefully, I blinked my eyes open, becoming aware of an intense, throbbing pain in my head. I groaned, holding myself as still as possible to minimise the agony I felt in my skull if I moved. As my eyes adjusted, I gingerly looked around, moving my head as slowly as possible.
Where was I? My heart started racing, and I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, curling into a ball. My breathing grew shallow, and a sob tore from my mouth before I was even aware of it.
I fell apart.
Eventually, my cries turned to whimpers, and I concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply, in through my nose, and out through my mouth. When I finally felt calm enough to take stock of my surroundings without panicking, I raised my head.
It was difficult to make out much. The only light came from a single oval-shaped bulb on the wall to my left, hanging over a wooden door which was slightly ajar. I could feel a very faint breeze blowing in from somewhere, so there must’ve been a vent or air shaft in this room, although I couldn’t see it. Other than that, I was surrounded by solid stone. Floor, walls, and ceiling. No windows. If I had to guess, I’d say I was underground somewhere, possibly in a cellar of some sort. It had that kind of damp, cold feeling. Stone steps in the corner of the room ascended to the ceiling where there was what looked like a hatch opening, and next to the steps was another wooden door with a padlock. I was sitting on a mattress which had a pile of blankets at one end, and there was a small metal table next to the mattress with a bottle of water on it.
I peered at the bottle suspiciously, debating whether it was safe to drink. It didn’t look like the seal had been tampered with, but I wasn’t about to risk it, despite my parched throat. I needed to get out of here.
Flexing my wrists, I climbed to my feet, using the cold stone wall to support me. A wave of dizziness overtook me, and I swayed on my feet, nausea rising up in my throat. Fuck. My legs suddenly gave way underneath me, and I crashed back down onto the mattress.
Okay. I wasn’t going anywhere. Yet. I pulled my legs up and rested my chin on my knees, closing my eyes until the dizziness passed. How could I stay positive? Was there anything positive? There didn’t seem to be any blood coming from my head, at least—I guess I could be grateful for small mercies?
Unfortunately, that thought did nothing to comfort me.
Footsteps sounded overhead, and my heart pounded, drumming loudly in my ears as there was a loud screeching of metal against metal, and the hatch opened, revealing a pair of black shoes.
They stepped onto the first step.
Then the next.
Then the next.
I huddled on the mattress, my back against the wall, biting down on the sleeve of my hoodie to stop myself from doing anything stupid like screaming the fucking place down. I’d never been so terrified in my life, and if I hadn’t practically collapsed when I’d tried to stand, I’d have been trying to make a run for it.
A man came into view—short, stocky, pale, dressed in the uniform of a security guard, complete with a black cap. He paused for a moment, closing the hatch behind him, before he descended the rest of the way down the stairs. When he saw I was awake and watching him, his lip curled, and he quickly strode across the floor, grabbing me and pulling to my feet. Another wave of dizziness hit me, and only his arms around me stopped me from falling. He gripped me tightly around the waist, my back to his front.
“What are you doing here, little girl?” He spoke in heavily accented English.
“Little girl? Excuse me!” I spluttered, before clapping my mouth shut. Don’t antagonise the strange man, idiot!
“One more time.” He bent his head close to my ear, his breath smelling faintly of onions, hot on my cheek. Gross. “What are you doing here?”
I said the first thing that flew into my mind. “I came to look at the boats.”
He chuckled humourlessly. “You are telling me you came to look at the boats, on restricted land, at night?”
“Yep.”
“Foolish gi—” His words were cut off by a faint, muffled shout overhead.
“Winter!”
Caiden.
Determination filled me, and I opened my mouth to scream as loudly as I could, but the man slammed his hand across my mouth. In a flash, I felt a cold metal blade at my throat, and I froze in place.
“Nyet. Do not move. Do not make a sound. I will take great pleasure in slicing your pretty little throat open.”
Who the fuck speaks like this?
He pressed the blade harder against me, and all thoughts flew out of my mind as I felt a sharp sting. Tears rolled silently down my cheeks as I stood, statue still, listening to the faint sounds overhead. Caiden was right there, above me, and I couldn’t tell him.
The sounds faded away, and I knew he was gone.
The pressure against my neck disappeared, and the man spun me, throwing me down onto the mattress. My head jerked as I fell, sending a searing pain through me. Black spots danced in front of my eyes, and I struggled to stay conscious.
Dimly, I heard a ringing sound, then the pounding of footsteps as the man ascended the stairs. I heard him bark a string of words into his phone that made no sense to me in my state, followed by the sound of scraping metal assaulting my ears again. I curled up, holding my head, and closed my eyes.
Peeling my eyes open, I became aware of the man from before, sitting on a chair, cigarette in hand, watching me. When he saw I was awake, he stood, throwing his cigarette to the floor and stubbing it out with his boot.
“Bathroom.” He pointed to the door directly under the single light. “Water.” He indicated the bottle on the table that I’d noticed before, and then his voice turned threatening and cold. “Do not attempt to leave. You will not like the consequences.”
With that threat echoing through the room, he stomped off up the stairs, the hatch slamming down into place behind him.
My throat was so sore that I threw caution to the wind, sitting up slowly and unscrewing the cap of the water bottle. The liquid slid down my parched throat, soothing it, and I drank around a third of the bottle, not knowing when I’d be getting any more.
Once I’d placed the water back on the table, I carefully climbed to my feet, and holding on to the wall for support, made my way to the tiny bathroom, pulling the light cord that dangled from the ceiling. The room contained very little—just an ancient porcelain toilet and a tiny, cracked sink with a tarnished mirror above it.
I examined my throat in the mirror, noticing a thin line of red where the knife had nicked my flesh. Thankfully it only seemed like a minor scratch. Turning on the tap, I put my hands under the brownish-coloured icy water that came spurting out, and when it ran clear, I used my hands to gently clean the cut as much as I could, then dabbed water over my face.