I open the plastic bag and pull out the paper towel, finding the three green strips inside. I’m guessing Aphra must have infused store-bought breath strips with whatever magic put Wyatt Meadows into an invisible bubble.
At least I’ll know that if Jase is inside one, they won’t be able to hurt him. Not unless they’ve got one of those same guns with special dipped bullets handy. I can only hope they’re not that prepared. And as it’s all I can think of doing, I pull one out and lean over, putting my fingertips to his chin and opening his mouth.
There was a time I would think touching Jason Creed while he was asleep would be all kinds of forbidden and thrilling. With all that’s happened, that’s not what I’m feeling. I’m angry that we were abducted. I’m ticked with myself for not double-checking my rideshare app before getting into a strange automobile. I’m angry with Jase for the way he’s treated me lately. I’m also pissed at myself for being here at all.
What in the world was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking clearly, that’s for damn sure. It was completely illogical of me to think I could swoop in and save the day. As if. How deluded was I thinking I could swoop in, then walk away with my chin up, with leaving nothing awkward between us because he’d know that I’m not pining for him.
I wanted him to realize he doesn’t have to treat me the way he’s been treating me. Because I’m not under the illusion we’re destined to be together. Why would he suddenly look at me and decide I’m the one he’s been waiting for?
I’ve got clarity now.
If only I had it before I spent a stupid amount of money on plane fare and booking a hotel. Maybe they would’ve cancelled this trip due to Dani’s emergency. Maybe Jase would’ve gone home.
And what the heck with the fact that Alta said Jase’s bag held fakes? If they’re fakes, where are the real artifacts? And who gave Jase fakes? Why? I can’t dwell on that right now, there’s no time.
I slip the breath strip between Jase’s lips, stick the other pieces back into the bag with the necklace and put them in my bra again before I move away, before I listen to the little voice in my head telling me to press my lips to Jase’s just once. No. That’d be a violation. And it would say I’m not over pining for him. And I’m absolutely not letting that be said!
Instead, I back away further, to make sure I don’t get stuck in the invisible bubble with him, if that’s even possible.
I’m about to move in again to see if the bubble is active yet but hear footsteps overhead so I rush to the window and slide it open.
I’m not an athletic girl. My curves come from carbs, not cardio and my thighs touch. I’m a bookish library dweller who is rather busty on top and I wouldn’t call my lower half muscular. I grab two cans of paint and set them down to give me a bit of height as I climb onto them. It takes all my might, and a few tries where I fail before, grunting and using every ounce of stubbornness I have, I’m finally dangling with one foot up on that window ledge. This frame isn’t big enough to hang onto for long. I miraculouslymanage to pull myself up and through that window, crawling up out of the window well and then belly-crawling a little through the grass. My whole body aches with the exertion and I’m sweaty and breathless by the time I get up on my knees and look around me, ticked.
I fall to my ass in the grass and wheeze out my exhaustion.
I really need to start working out. Burpees. Pull ups. I’ll ask my brother to start training me. Because that was bullshit!
Annoyed with myself, I blow my hair out of my eyes and survey my surroundings.
I have no idea where I am, but judging by the landscaping and architecture, it’s not a newer neighborhood. The house I’ve just climbed out of looks recently painted and is sandwiched between other well-kept older homes. I do a half army crawl until I plaster myself against the side of the building where there’s no ground level window for that witch to see I’ve escaped.
But suddenly, a human guy, around ten or so years older than me steps in my path, blocking me.
“No,” he reprimands with what looks like a disturbing gleam in his eyes. His eyes flit down to point at my cleavage. The loss of my blouse button isn’t doing me any favors. I hear rustling behind me. Another guy, a little younger and looking and smelling like he’s brothers with this one is behind me, smiling.
The older one of the two was the driver from Jase’s hotel!
“You just come nice so we don’t be… how you say? Rough?” His accent is thick. He says something in his language to the other guy who moves in and grabs my wrist.
Shit!
“Don’t fight and you won’t get hurt,” the younger guy tells me.
6
JASE
Too slowly, I’m swimming toward consciousness with a killer headache. I don’t know what that witch hit me with, but between that and whatever she used to keep me attached to that pole and prevent me from shifting, I’m feeling like I’ve depleted down to 1% battery.
Squinting, my eyes and nose scan the space. A breeze sweeping through the space answers my question before I’ve fully formed it.
She’s gone, got out of here through that window.
Panic spikes in my system as I shakily get to my feet. I feel nauseous. Fuck!
I need to shift first. Shift, regain strength, and then go, pick up her scent and catch up with her. I’ve still got a cuff around my neck, plus on my wrists and ankles, though now my hands are in front of me. I pull, with all my might, but it’s not enough right now. I don’t have the strength to break them.
I already know I can’t shift. I’m fighting against a sensation that has me feeling like I’m underwater. The air is strange around me, not smelling or feeling right.