Before River could fully descend into the panic threatening to take over her, her body was already reacting to being grabbed. Thank the gods Ember had insisted they take self-defense classes in Lakewater, because that might save her now.
The goal is to get away,the instructor always said, reminding them that nothing was off the table. Hitting, kicking, scratching, and biting were all fair game.Get away and scream “Fire.”
Because studies had shown that people were far more likely to help in the case of a fire than if a woman was calling for help.
Right now, River couldn’t scream at all, but she tried everything else. She kicked his shins, stomped on his feet, and struggled against him, trying to loosen his hold.
Nothing worked.
Remembering the dagger, she angled it upward and slammed it back. Maybe she’d hit his side, and?—
The arm banded around her chest disappeared for a single moment as he snatched the dagger out of her fingers.
“Cute,” her attacker said as he threw it away. He yanked her guns out of her holsters next, tossing them away as if they were nothing.
The sound of them falling wasn’t loud enough to draw attention, and River whimpered. The knife in her boot was too far away.
The hand around River’s mouth tightened, and the rebel leader grabbed her once more, dragging her back. She gasped, scratching at the arm covering her mouth with both hands, trying desperately to pull it away from her. If she could just loosen his grip a little, she could scream for help.
Nikhail would come, she was sure of it.
She dug her fingers into his skin, but all that did was make the bear shifter laugh. The low, oily sound brushed her ear, and she wanted to throw up.
“I would stop doing that if I were you.” Pinpricks of pain erupted in her neck as the tips of his claws broke through her skin.
River trembled, and her hands fell to her side.
Taking advantage of her fear, Harringdale dragged River backwards, towards the bathroom and out of sight of the bunker entrance.
Away from Nikhail.
No, no, no.
Over the years, River had had a lot of nightmares. Most of them were about her storms, but occasionally, others snuck in. She’d dreamed about moments like this—being dragged off into darkness by a man with violence in his heart—but even the worst of her nightmares didn’t compare to the reality she now found herself in.
Fight back, she urged herself.Don’t go quietly.
She called more magic to her hands. Formed two more daggers. Slammed them both into Harringdale’s thighs.
“Fucking bitch,” he snarled, releasing her waist long enough to wrench her hands up and press them against her chest. He held her like that, her hands pressed against her chest, so shecouldn’t form any more daggers. “You’re going to pay for that, and I’m going to enjoy hearing you scream.”
There was something about the way Harringdale spoke, the eagerness in his tone, that told her he was speaking the truth.
River’s pain would bring him great joy.
“I know who you are,” Harringdale murmured as she went limp in his arms. “River Emeline Waterborn.”
He rattled off her birthdate and the name of the hospital where she was born.
Despite herself, River gasped. How did he know these things?
As if he could read her mind, the rebel laughed.
“Oh, you stupid, naïve little girl. Do you think that’s all we know? You Representative families are all the same. Sauntering about the Republic as if it’s your playground, thinking you’re fucking untouchable. You’re allwrong. We’ve spent years studying all of you. Watching you. I know far more than you think.”
River’s heart hammered in her chest, and tears pricked at her vision.
The steady, low rumble of Nikhail’s voice reached her ears, but it was far away. He had no idea what was happening. No idea that somehow, the sedation had worn off, and the rebel leader had taken River.