"Fantastic idea." The Collector fishes something that looks like a flash drive from his pocket then points it at me. I tense my shoulders but try not to wince. He presses the gadget and, even when no sound comes, the shackles come off. Not from around my wrists, but from one another. Now I can move my arms, feel the painful tingles as the blood flows normally, and I still get two bracelets as a bonus. "Behave, will you, darling?" With a friendly smile, he walks off, and I detest every inch of his unfortunate being. Even the way he speaks makes me disgusted.
I peer around the cage. There's a sort of toilet in the very corner, so discreet I know it's supposed to not offend a potential buyer's eyes. Fuck them. I'll have to shit on this Roman antique because they don't want to give me something more humane.
Not that I'm human, apparently. I gape down at my hands, at the tips of my fingers tinged black, and close my fists. So much has happened today. As I squat, exhaustion wears me down. It almost hurts. No, it actually hurts. On the ribs, where Robot Girl hit me too hard too many times. I reach behind me, feeling for any broken ribs. From how painful it is, and from how arduous it is to breathe, I don't doubt I got one or two. But will the Collector care? I doubt it. He clearly doesn't mind broken merchandise.
I healed myself before. Maybe I can do it again. I sneak a glance at the tiny shadows around me. Glass doesn't leave me much to work with. Closing my eyes, I force myself to ignore the pain and I call in that sensation of cold trickling down my veins. It's slow now, and after a moment, it doesn't matter how much I pull the shadows in, there's just no more shadows to come my way.
Leaning forward, I look through the glass. The other cages cast nice, long shadows into the ground, but these don't even move in my direction. Is it because the cage is spelled or something? I can use my magic inside it, so it isn't the shackles. Yeah, it has to be some spell on the cage itself. I can use magic inside, but it doesn't connect with the outside world. Which sucks balls because my ribs have barely healed.
Magic. The more I think I'm not a human, and have never been one, the more tired I feel. Like mind-tired. My brain refuses to work any longer before I lie down and give my body and my mind a rest. I need it. Desperately.
The moment I find a comfortable position on the hard ground, I see it again. The moving shadow, standing just next to the cage in front of me. I raise my head, already heavy with sleep. Relief makes its way to my heart when I see it's nothing odd. Just a person. A man, and my brain registers it's a very handsome man before I give up on studying him any longer.
The one man who won't hate me when I get out will be Ren. If I ever get out. The most important thing here is to find rest and heal, and then create an escape plan. No matter what I do, I won't allow anyone to own me. Mage or human, no one will break my will.
And I'll do anything and use anyone I can to escape this hell.
CHAPTER 3
CASSANDRA
This is the epitome of boredom. After I woke from my nap, I did absolutely nothing, because there's nothing to do but stare ahead. The dim light that glows from the base of the cages makes it hard to see, but I can still descry the other side of the hallway.
One cage has this sort of... How to describe it? Thing? Dark, slimy stuff? Hell, this is what nightmares are made of. A sort of gummy slime takes the half bottom of the cage, while tentacles or vines reach up and stick to the ceiling. The whole thing makes me think of horror movies, or horror SciFi, and aliens hunting you on dark, distant planets.
It also doesn't talk, so I can't really chat with it. A real pity.
The cage to my left is empty. The one to my right holds another creature I can't quite discern, half-plant, half-Tim Burton imagination, and it also doesn't talk. It hisses, yeah, but I can't understand if the hisses are just a threat or if they mean anything.
"And I have no idea what time is it." I sigh to the creature, pressing my forehead to the cool glass. "I need a plan. I need to know when this auction is going to take place, and what sort of people are going to be there." Bumping my head against the glass, I wince. It's a hard glass, even harder than my thick skull. I massage my forehead, and my gaze drops to the bracelet around my wrist.
It's a dainty thing. Thin, silver, it looks like something I'd buy at a jewelry store. The Collector has a fascinating taste for cages and shackles. It's almost like he doesn't believe he's turning us into prisoners. He makes things pretty so it's unclear we're his playthings, to do whatever he wills.
Another sigh rips up from me. This shit is much deeper than I thought I could get into. Running from the cops was already bad enough. Dealing with the supernatural police? A huge problem, since they had ways to find me and keep me I couldn't fight.
But this? This shit is new. Someone who kidnaps and sells unique supernaturals when I didn't even know I was one of them. I glare at the tips of my fingers. Shadow Mage. The controlling shadows is pretty obvious now that I look back at it. It's also pretty boring. What can I do with it? It's not like I can punch someone with the shadows. It would have been cooler to be a fire mage, just to burn the Collector's ass to a crisp.
A crinkling sound makes me look up. Everything's so quiet here, any sound makes my heart beat fast. Standing by the shadows of the cage across from me is the guy from earlier. I press myself closer to the glass, narrowing my eyes to catch a glimpse of him, touching my fingertips to the glass.
The man is tall because apparently everyone is tall in this world. I can't see the color of his hair, but it's lighter than my dark one. His build is strong, like a football player or someone who spends time exercising.
Do I have a stalker now? He watches me with big, curious eyes, lips parted, and I wonder if he's admiring me or gaping at how awfully standoffish I look in this place. Maybe he's wondering about what a regular, boring human is doing here. Surprise! No human, just a very bad mage.
"Hey there," I call him, wiggling my fingers to catch his attention. Not like he's gaping at anything other than me. He merely blinks. "What's your name?"
His jaw clenches, and he works it like that question caught him off guard. I put a smile on my face, one I hope is inviting, and wait for the answer. A moment passes, then another, and we stand in complete silence. I clear my throat. "Can you hear me?"
This time, he nods. So my glass isn't soundproof. Not that punching it and screaming would do me any good. From the looks of it, I'm in the Collector's property, and from what Apollo said, it's a well-hidden place. I swallow. I need help, and this stalker guy might be exactly what I need. If he knows how to get me out, or maybe if I get myself out of the cage and he leads me to the exit... Ideas bloom in my head, but to nail any of them, I'll need the help of this big guy.
Would he be up to help me?
"My name's Cassandra," I try once more. "This Collector guy kidnapped me from..." My friends? I mean, Apollo and Ren are supposedly my mates. But how can I say that I have more than one mate? This is so confusing. "From my group. Do you think I can escape?"
The man watches me, his gaze deepening as he stares at me. A shadow crosses his face, but instead of stepping away, he steps closer, the dim lights bathing his face. I take in a sharp breath. He's handsome. Something deep inside me curls and purrs at the sight of him, and not just the sight. It's like he has a presence. A calling. Those big arms would look amazing curled around me, holding me to sleep. Now that he's closer to the light, I can see he has a beard, well-trimmed and as blond as his hair, brushed back and kept in a low ponytail. He looks like a viking. A very buffed up viking.
I hold back from fanning myself. Did they turn the heat on in this thing? It's suddenly hot in here.
The man remains soundless, unmoving, only his eyes following me. He's in an old T-shirt and sweatpants. Grey sweatpants, the sort that clings to his muscled thighs and line his cock. His hard cock, twitching, trying to tent the fabric. Heat pools between my legs, and I sink my teeth onto my lower lip. This is not the time. I shouldn't be salivating for some stranger's cock while I'm locked up like an animal. What the fuck is wrong with me?