“Hello?” My voice croaked into the darkness, husky from disuse, and the sound echoed back to me hauntingly. “Is anyone in here?” My head was pounding and fuzzy, and the concrete in front of my face was spinning. My stomach clenched hard, and I groaned, clutching at it and trying to hold back the bile rising in my throat. It was the same sick feeling I used to have as a child when we hadn’t eaten in days.

How long have I been out?

Shaking my head a little to try and clear it, I pushed myself up to sitting and looked around. If it hadn’t been for the thin strips of light from the tiny, barred window, I would have thought I'd lost my eyesight. It was that dark. Fear spiked within me, and I took several deliberate breaths to control it.

“Hello?” I called out again in a slightly stronger voice, but still no one responded.

Where the hell was I? The last thing I remembered was being at the paintball park with the guys, and then Caleb and I making out… no wait, Austin and I were making out… and then what happened?

I rubbed my pounding forehead as I racked my brain for what had happened after that, but all I was coming up with were disjointed slivers of memories. Sergei's sweaty, leering face, and then the jolt and thump of a drive in someone's trunk, and then nothing until waking up in the dark.

I hesitantly hauled myself to my feet and blindly felt my way around the room, ascertaining that I was definitely in there alone. The walls were solid, made of huge stone blocks, which held a dampness that suggested I was underground. The little window was set high enough in the wall that I couldn’t see out, but it didn’t seem to lead outside. Most likely just an air vent rather than a window.

Fucking hell, I knew something bad was going to happen. Stupid me for thinking that bad thing was making out with goddamn Austin.

That was something I needed to deal with, if I ever got home. I couldn't believe he’d gone that far just to win a stupid game. No, I didn’t believe that for a second. There was definitely something more going on, and I was almost positive that he was feeling something more for me than just the contempt he layered on so thick. He had to be. God knows I am. It wasn’t really going to be an issue though, until I could get myself free.

Leaning my forehead against the door, I pressed my eye against the hinges, trying to get some clue as to where I might be. Of course, all I could see was a blank concrete wall directly opposite my door. Shit. How the hell am I getting myself out of this mess?

I should never have ignored that foreboding feeling. Everything in me had been screaming a warning that something bad was coming, but I had chalked it up to paranoia. Ever since Dupree’d had her goons try to kidnap me, beaten my best friend half to death, then revealed that I had the power to restore magic to all the dormant supernatural creatures of this world… oh, and also that I might be a fucking immortal… I had been a bit on edge.

Groaning to myself in despair, I began pacing the small room in an attempt to work the drugs out of my system and regain the use of my stiff muscles. Once moving, a warm tingling sensation trickled through my body and the heavy fog on my brain began to thin out. More and more, I had been noticing that I no longer required the same adrenaline push to engage my healing ability; it just seemed to be acting on its own when needed.

With my head a little clearer, I ran a quick mental analysis of what sort of crap I had landed in. I could clearly remember seeing Sergei before my world had gone dark, so at least I had a starting point. He was involved in the human trafficking ring that the guys had been investigating, which certainly didn’t bode well for my immediate future, but I had a strong suspicion this was linked to my abilities. Or, more specifically, those who might want to use my abilities. Before Dupree’s death, she had made mention of others who were pursuing the same goal as her, so it wouldn’t surprise me if this kidnapping was somehow linked.

I turned back to the door and yanked hard on the handle, putting all of my superhuman strength into it. It didn’t move an inch. Damn thing must be reinforced steel or something.

I tried the same thing on the bars of the window, but it was high enough up that I struggled to get a good angle and eventually gave up in frustration.

Not stupid enough to get caught napping, I instead began running my body through some of the martial arts warm-up drills that Cole had hammered into me for months. As I moved, my mind wandered, and I found that the foreboding sense of dread I had felt before getting kidnapped had been replaced with an almost painful ache in my chest. I paused in my movements to rub the heel of my hand over my heart where the pain seemed to be coming from, but it made no difference.

Great. That would be just my luck to get kidnapped and die of a heart attack.

Before I could examine the weird feeling any further, the silence of my prison was broken by the heavy thud of boots coming down the corridor and the grinding screech of the rusty lock turning. My heart raced, but I prepared myself for a fight, standing light on my feet with my fists curled in preparation. This was exactly what Cole had been training me for.

The heavy steel door groaned open, and the light from the hallway outlined an imposing figure filling the frame. He stepped inside the tiny room, and I wasted no time launching myself at him, desperate to fight my way free. The huge man was caught off guard, probably not expecting such a fight, and I connected a powerful punch square into his gut, knocking him backwards into the wall opposite my cell.

I darted out of the cell using my superhuman speed and took off down the corridor without so much as glancing at the man or looking to see if he had backup.

Stupid, Kit!

My body jolted painfully to a stop before I had made it even half a dozen steps. I hit the floor hard as my dehydrated frame convulsed with shock after shock of electricity while my muscles locked tight.

I lay on the cold and dirty floor, totally helpless as the current pulsed through me and a heavy steel-capped boot kicked me savagely in the side. The owner of the boot spat something incomprehensible at me in another language, proudly brandishing the stun gun he had just shot me with. Fucking bastard.

Bending down, he yanked my paralyzed body off the floor and threw me over his broad shoulder, causing waves of pain to crash through my freshly electrocuted form as he sauntered down the corridor, whistling like a psychopath.