A shout jerks me from unconsciousness, and I come to, disoriented and hurting. My chin rests sticky against my chest, and pain shoots through my neck and head when I try to lift it. I squeeze my eyes close, and try to fend off a throbbing headache battering my skull.

Another shout has me trying to cover my ears from the assault of the noise, but my hands don’t follow my brain’s instructions for protection. I jerk my arms again and realize my hands are fastened to something behind me. I move around on what I assume is a chair, and discover my feet are also tethered in place.

Adrenaline and fear slam through me like a tidal wave, as it dawns on me how bad this situation is. I don’t know if the pain dulls or if I just grow accustomed to it, but I manage to lift my head off of my chest and dizzily try to take in my surroundings. Another shout has me flinching to get away, and I follow the noise to one of the guys from Enoch’s back seat tied in a chair across from me. He’s yelling for help which seems counterintuitive to the situation we find ourselves in.

“Shut the fuck up," I grumble to him, and wide, terrified eyes turn to me. “If you keep yelling, whoever did this is going to come in here. Let’s try to put that off as long as possible," I tell him, trying and failing to be more reassuring and less growly.

He nods and thankfully stays quiet as his scared gaze flits all around us. Wherever we are is cool and damp. The moisture in the air adds to the sticky feeling on my skin, and I look down to find that drying blood has turned my gray tank top dark red. I don’t feel any trickles anywhere on my body, so it seems wherever most of this came from has thankfully clotted or at least slowed.

The ground beneath my feet is hard packed dirt, and the walls of the room are an aged gray concrete with cracks spidering around the joints. Everyone from Enoch’s car is down here tied to a chair. They’re disheveled and bruised, and showing signs of some injuries from the accident.

We’re arranged in a haphazard semicircle, and I can’t tell if that’s by design or mere coincidence. There’s waning natural light in the room, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from. I try to turn around to see if the source of the light is behind me, but an excruciating pain in my neck and head keeps me from discovering anything.

“Hey…” I whisper to the kid who was shouting.

He looks up, and I can tell how much he’s trying to rein in his panic. I give him the softest most comforting smile I can.

“What’s your name?”

It seems to take him a moment to register what I’m asking.

“Parker," he whispers.

“Parker, were you awake when we were brought here?” I ask, hoping that he might be able to tell me where we are and who the hell tied us up. He shakes his head, and a sob shudders out of his throat. I give him another reassuring smile.

“It’s okay, this is awful, but we’re alive and together. I’ll get us out of here.”

I don’t know why I’m making promises I have no idea if I’ll be able to keep, but it kills me to see him so terrified.

“I woke up a little while ago. I’ve been shouting, but no one has come to check on us," Parker quietly tells me, and I nod my head.

My magic bubbles up inside of me restless and agitated, and I have to stop myself from calling on my runes and cutting myself and the others free. There may not be many opportunities to escape, and I know I need to be smart about this. Patience feels like the best step forward or at least waiting until everyone is conscious, so I’m not forced to carry anyone while potentially trying to fight my way out of wherever here is.

A groan sounds from Enoch, and I see his head wobble. I watch the moment he realizes he’s tied up to a chair and his head jerks up and swivels around taking everything in. Our eyes meet, and I watch relief peculiarly flicker in his eyes.

“What’s going on?” he croaks in question.

“I don’t know. I woke up not too long ago.”

“You’re bleeding," he informs me and then starts to struggle against his bindings.

“Quiet!” I hiss at him. “We don’t want to bring anyone in here yet.”

Enoch stills, but I can see the helpless rage on his face. Something moves slightly in the corner and my head jerks in that direction. My pain renews its assault, and I instantly regret moving my head so fast. I notice for the first time that something is hanging from the ceiling in the corner.

I squint trying to force my eyes to work like they normally do without whatever head injury I’m currently suffering from. I gasp when I gather that it’s a person slumped and hanging from a hook in the ceiling by their arms, their back to us. The person is emaciated and filthy, their clothes and skin blend right in with the grays and browns of the room.

Enoch follows my horrified gaze. “What the hell is going on here?”

As if in answer to his question clunks and clangs sound off in an alcove to my right, and a screech of metal on metal echoes through the room as a door opens. I can see stairs through the now open entryway, and it makes me think we’re in a cellar or an old basement. Seven men walk into the damp, dirty space and a spark of recognition ignites in my head.

The bulky blonde from the bar is among them. My eyes are locked on his, as he files in and takes his place with the others around the edge of the room. If I had any doubt about who’s responsible for our being tied up in this room, the appearance of that blonde guy solves it. It’s me. Shit!

“Wakey, wakey, little Sentinel," a smooth voice taunts me.

I look over to the doorway and recognition punches me in the gut as I watch the beautiful Middle Eastern man step into the room. He runs the back of his hand over his tawny skin and the scruff on his face, drinking me in with his eyes. The same eyes that watched me as I fought the colossal douche over a month ago in Las Vegas. I knew this fucker would come for me.

His gaze falls on my blood-soaked shirt, and his whiskey-dipped irises flicker red. He inhales deeply and closes the distance between us. He places a finger under my chin and tilts my face back until my eyes find his again. I wince slightly at the pain the movement causes, and he stares at me.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, baby Sentinel. We all thought you were lost, but here you are right under our noses this whole time.”

How the fuck does he know what I am when I just found out days ago? With those words, he leans in and smells me, which is high on the list of the creepiest things I’ve ever experienced. He pulls his fingers away from my chin, and they’re stamped with my blood. I’m fully prepared for him to pull out a handkerchief and wipe the remnants of my injury from his hand. He seems like a handkerchief toting kind of guy. What I am not prepared for is for him to bring his hand to his mouth and lick my blood off, like he’s enjoying an ice cream cone.

Nope, that’s now definitely the creepiest thing I’ve ever experienced.

His eyes flash red again, and something clicks in my brain. I already deduced that he was lamia, but I’d bet anything that this group of lamia is the nest that disappeared when my father did, or they belong to it. I look over and catch Enoch looking angry and calculating. Around him, Nash and Jared Leto look-alike still seem to be unconscious, and Parker looks petrified as tears drip down his cheeks.

“Well, you look to be playing a convincing game of finders keepers. Mind telling me who you are and why they’re here?” I ask, jerking my chin in the direction of Enoch and his friends. My voice is smooth and unperturbed, and I’m so grateful that I don’t sound as scared as I feel.

Several chuckles echo around the room.

“Yes, finders keepers does sum it up nicely. I’m Faron, and you are?”

I’m surprised that he doesn’t know my name. He watched me like a creepy hawk the night of my last fight in Vegas. They announced my name when I entered the arena that night. He knows that I’m a Sentinel and he obviously knew where to find me—although that raises a whole other set of questions I’m forced to dismiss at the moment--but how does he not know specifics or details about me?

Reading the confusion on my face Faron tuts.

“Yes, I know. We’ve used all the best motivational tactics on our…mutual friend. But he’s not been very forthcoming," He tells me cryptically, the hint of a whine in his voice.

“I’m Vinna," I finally offer.

“Lovely. In both name and body," Faron declares with the slightest little bow and a lewd look in his burnt honey toned eyes. “To answer your question, they are here as motivation for your transference," Faron states simply, gesturing to Enoch and the others. “Sorik relayed that you had an attachment to a group of casters, so we thought we’d invite them along to the party.”

Faron tilts his head in the direction of the familiar blonde brute standing against the edge of the room. Well, Sorik clearly wasn’t paying close attention, because none of these casters look anything like my Chosen. I stare at Sorik for a minute trying to gauge if he’s really that much of an idiot.

I debate pointing out the error, in the hope that Faron might let Enoch and the others go, but he’d probably just kill them after I pointed out the mistake. Sorik gives me an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and my eyes immediately jump to Faron, to see if he caught the same thing I did. Faron isn’t watching us though. Instead, he’s approaching the person hanging limply in the corner.

Is Sorik helping me? I look back at the blond vampire from the bar, hoping for another sign that might help me figure everything out, but his eyes are blank and focused on the empty wall across from him.

The slap of skin against skin pulls me from my jumble of thoughts, and my head jerks in the direction of Faron and the hanging body in the corner.

“Wake up you traitorous piece of filth. I want to see your face when you see what we’ve found in spite of you.”

Faron slaps whoever it is again, and a deep, pain-filled groan and the clinking movement of chains shatters the quiet of the room. Faron steps away, his body no longer blocking my view, and I’m utterly horrified by what I see.

“Talon!” I scream, and I try to go to him.

My chair tilts forward, but someone catches the back and rights it before I can slam face-first into the dirt. Talon’s sallow eyes find mine, and they’re filled with complete and utter despair. He’s a shell of the man I last saw over a month ago, and it’s evident they’ve been brutally torturing him.

His head falls, and I don’t know if it’s in defeat or if he’s just not strong enough to hold it up anymore. Rage is slowly replacing horror, and my eyes move from my broken friend in the corner to the lamia responsible. Faron’s eyes are glittery with excitement.

“I’m going to kill you," I smoothly declare.

Faron hoots with glee at my threat and the other lamia laugh on cue. I tilt my head to the side and smile at him as I embrace my inner psycho bitch. My look seems to unsettle him, and Faron’s laughter dies.

“Don’t worry delicious Vinna, we’ll be with my sire soon, and there will be plenty of fun to be had by all.”

Faron stalks out of the room, and the other lamia fall in line to follow.

The door clangs shut, and a sob tries to escape me when my eyes fall on Talon’s battered body in the corner. I call on my runes and a throwing knife forms in my palm. I make quick work of the ropes binding my hands, and I lean over gingerly to release my feet.

“What the hell?” someone whispers.

My head snaps up to find Jared Leto look-alike staring at me in shock. I grimace as pain punishes me for moving too fast. My index finger shoots over my lips, and I narrow my eyes at him as the throbbing in my head dulls again.

I cut Parker free next and then move to Enoch, who runs his eyes over me as I cut his ropes away. I’m not sure when Nash and the other kid woke up but at least now they won’t need to be carried anywhere. I slash everyone from their chairs and immediately move to help Talon.

Enoch and Nash both reach out to stop me.

“Vinna don’t. He’s lamia. He’s dangerous.”

I stare at Enoch, hesitating for a second more before I decide I don’t care. I pull from Enoch and Nash’s grasp.

“Vinna!” Enoch warns again in a harsh whisper.

“I am only alive today because of him.” I point to Talon’s gaunt body. “If he wanted to hurt me, he had years to do it.”

My voice breaks and I push the unhelpful emotions down. Enoch stares at me completely confused by my admission, but he doesn’t stop me as I start to circle Talon’s unconscious body, assessing the best way to get him down. I figure out a plan, but I’m not sure if it will work.

I’ll need to tap into my Elemental magic, but I’ve only read about how to do it. I’ve never actually done it. I call on one of my short swords. It forms in my hand, and the other guys start whispering back and forth. I wave my hand silencing them. I’m not sure how good a lamia’s hearing is, but if we’re going to get out of this, we need the element of surprise which means they need to shut the fuck up.

I stick the point of the dagger between the links of the chain that’s digging into Talon’s wrists. I apply some pressure and picture the blade of the dagger getting hot until it melts the metal of the chain. I hold my breath, coxing my magic into the blade of my dagger, but nothing happens. I clench my eyes shut tightly and focus my magic on the image of what I need it to do.

Still, nothing happens. Oh, so you want to be a fickle bitch now I screech at my magic. I open my eyes abandoning that plan, and instead I pull my arm back and swipe at the chains with the short sword. The magical blade cuts through the links and Talon abruptly crumbles to the ground with a thud before I can catch him.

I freeze and run my fingers over the runes to increase my hearing. I stand silently searching for any indication that any lamia are coming to investigate the noise.

All I hear is someone making what sounds like travel arrangements, and I tune it out to focus on Talon. I roll him onto his back and cup his face in my hands.

“Talon! Talon…wake up. It’s me Vinna… Talon," I quietly plead, as I try to wake him up but his eyes stay shut.

I call on a throwing knife and quickly run the sharp blade across my wrist. Someone hisses behind me, but I ignore it as I bring my bleeding wrist up to Talon’s mouth. I pry open his lips and let blood flood his mouth and throat, but he stays completely unresponsive. I close my eyes and let out a frustrated breath.

Nash walks over to me. “Let me heal you. You’re still bleeding from a gash on your head, and you probably have a concussion. I’m sure you can’t afford to be losing any more blood.”

My initial reaction to Nash’s request is to blow it off, but I’m most likely going to have to fight our way out of here, and it would be stupid to do that injured. I give him a nod, and he places his hands on each side of my face. I feel them warm, and my body begins to relax as his magic starts to heal me, eliminating the cacophony of pain I’ve been working in spite of.

When my head is pain-free, he grips my wrist. Nash’s hands cool and he pulls them away from my slash-free arm. I take a deep, relieved breath, my body feeling energized and ready.

“Thank you," I whisper to him.

Nash nods and then moves to the others, silently healing their injuries.

I run my hand lightly against Talon’s cheek. “Hang in there; I’ve got you now," I vow, and I send out a silent plea to the universe that I can get all of us out of here alive.

Talon’s face scrunches up slightly, but he still doesn’t wake up. I leave him on the floor and walk to where the others are standing.

“Nash, can you heal yourself?” I ask him, noticing his hand gripping his side. He has bruises all over the side of his face, too.

“I’ve never been able to, no.”

“Can you walk me through how to do it?” I ask him.

“You have Healing magic?” he asks me, a little shocked.

“I have all of them except Spell magic," I tell him offhandedly.

I stare off into the distance as I hear voices approaching us. I freeze, but the voices thankfully continue past us. I look back to Nash waiting for him to instruct me, but instead of telling me how to heal his ribs Nash just stares at me wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

“Seriously Nash, I don’t know how much time we have. If you want help, you need to walk me through it!”

This seems to snap him out of whatever brain stall he’s experiencing.

“Just place your hand on me, skin to skin, and picture pouring your magic into me and healing any injuries. The process is more complicated than that, but that’s the best way I can describe it," he admits.

I take a deep breath and run my hand up beneath his dirty and tattered shirt placing my palm on his ribs. I close my eyes and do exactly what he just told me to do. I don’t feel anything responding. I reach into myself more and think about the visuals that Ryker told me he uses. I tap into my source of magic and picture scooping some of it out in my hand and pushing it into Nash.

My hand starts to warm against Nash’s skin, and in minutes his breaths go from labored to deep and smooth. I can somehow instinctually feel his bones knit back together and his lung repair the puncture. He must have been in severe pain. I stay there just a minute longer making sure he doesn’t need any more from me before I pull away.

Nash is staring at me in awe now, and a trill of shock flits through me when I realize all the bruises on his face are gone too. I move back over to Talon and repeat what I just did for Nash. I don’t know why I didn’t think about trying to heal him before. But no matter how much magic I try to push into Talon it won’t sink in. I try for as long as I dare before finally accepting that it’s not going to work. I growl quietly, frustrated by my magic and my inability to make it work.

I somehow healed Nash, so I’m not a complete dud but nothing I’m trying with Talon is fucking working, and it’s maddening. I shake off my anger and refocus on the next phase of the get the fuck out of here plan.

“Do any of you know how to fight?” I ask, mapping out the room and calculating the best plan of attack.

“We’re all Paladin Conscripts," Enoch informs me.

His admission stops me in my tracks. They’re training to be paladin? I look at each of them. Well okay then, I did not see that coming. I shake myself out of my shock, and we all huddle closer together so we can whisper plans back and forth. We all realize pretty quick that our options are mostly limited to fighting, fighting, and more fighting.

Once that settled in, we quickly worked out the details. Parker--the biggest of the group--is going to carry Talon. Me, Enoch, Nash, and Kallan – which is apparently the name of Jared Leto look-alike--will fight our way out to where we can hopefully find some means of escape.

We place Talon in the now-dark corner by the door, and I hope with everything that I have that he goes unnoticed the next time the lamia come in. It’s getting darker and darker by the minute, and I’m hoping the lamia don’t have amazing night vision and the darkness works in our favor. The rest of us make our way back to our chairs, intent on pretending that we’re still tied up. The plan is to attack when we have a good shot at the lamia closest to us the next time they come in.

My runes to increase my hearing are still activated, and thankfully we only have to wait a little while before I hear several footsteps and chatter coming towards us. I hear them clunk down the stairs and disengage the lock on the door. It squeaks open, and I hope with everything that I have, that they won’t spot Talon’s feet sticking out from the corner. Several of them stride confidently in, thankfully not noticing anything amiss.

“Alright, pets it’s time to go,” one of the lamia announces, as he bends over to untie me.

His head jerks up in surprise when he discovers no rope where it should be around my ankles. I bring one short sword quickly through his neck, blood spattering my face and body as his head drops to the floor. The room explodes in chaos as each of us attack as ruthlessly and quietly as possible. I decapitate two more lamia, and Enoch and Kallan finish off the other three. I watch dazed as the bodies slowly turn to ash and disintegrate around us.

There were eight lamia down here before, including Faron, and we just eliminated six. I cross my fingers and hope only two more stand in the way of our escape. Parker picks up Talon’s limp body draping him across both shoulders and follows us up the stairs. I go first, silently making my way up, followed by Enoch, Parker, Nash, and Kallan. I barely poke my head above the top stair, quickly taking in what’s around us, before ducking back down.

We’re in some kind of storm cellar set in the middle of a wide open space with a dark house to the right of us. I spot a group of lamia loading things in big SUVs and talking about fifteen feet to my left. I notice another cluster of lamia congregated closer to us on the right. As soon as we show ourselves, they’ll be the first ones on us.

I lean down and turn to Enoch, trying to communicate with my hands what I see. I’d love to think I’m using some pretty sweet special forces hand signals but in reality, it probably looks like the worst game of charades in history. I can’t help but think how much easier this would be if I could speak in his mind like I can with my Chosen. I mentally facepalm when I realize I haven’t even tried to use my link to them to get help. I consider quickly trying to send them a message, but the slamming of doors and impatient voices brings my attention back to trying to get us out of here, right now.

I call on several of my throwing daggers and dash quickly out of the protection of the stairwell. I pull and release daggers as quickly as possible as we run in the direction of the cars. Lamia fall and start turning to ash before the others seem to realize they’re being attacked, but as soon as they do, all hell breaks loose, and they converge on us. Enoch is throwing fireballs, and Kallan is hurling glowing orbs as we run. I begin cutting the heads off of anything that gets near me or appears injured, and I curse when a bunch of lamia start pouring out of the old, dark house.

I’m cutting lamia down in a lethal and steady rhythm, as we push our way closer to the cars. I see Faron flash around the corner of the house and I watch as his eyes turn red and his fangs drop. I separate another head from its body, and Faron bellows a feral roar. I let go of my short swords and hurl a throwing knife in his direction. In a flash, he dodges the killing blow, but it still manages to sink into his shoulder. He seems unfazed by the injury as he continues to bear down on me like the predator he is.

“Well, baby Sentinel, aren’t you just full of surprises," Faron taunts, taking in my weaponless hands.

Quicker than any of the other lamia have displayed, Faron races toward me and then pounces. He gets a hand around my neck before I can do anything, and thank the stars he’s trying to capture me and not kill me, or I might be dead right now. I call on my short swords and run both of them into his chest slicing up as he tries to pull me into him. The cocksure look in his eyes fades when he realizes he doesn’t exactly have the upper hand. His claws on my neck drop, and he sinks them into my wrists trying to pull himself free of my blades.

Something hits me from behind, but my shields automatically activate and whatever it was bounces off of me. I release the magic holding the swords in his chest, and they disappear. I feel the shredding of my wrists as I pull free from his claws, but I force myself to ignore the pain. I bring my hands up to his neck. I call the swords back into my hands, the blades forming an X at the base of Faron’s throat. I scissor the swords and watch triumphantly as his head rolls off of his shoulders.

“That’s for Talon," I declare and turn looking for the next threat.

A shout calls my attention to the left, and I see the others pressing to the vehicles. I run to join them when out of nowhere a lamia charges Parker and slams into him. I watch as Talon and Parker hit the ground and Talon’s body skids away. I’m racing to reach them but I’m too far away, and I watch helplessly as the lamia sinks its fangs into Parker’s throat and tears it out.

I scream in rage and horror, sprinting towards Parker. My magic surges, answering my call and a pulse shoots out from me turning every lamia it touches to ash instantly. I slide into Parker and clamp down on his tattered neck with my hands. I immediately start calling on Healing magic and shoving it into him. My hands burn white-hot, and I scream at Parker to hold on. A lamia goes up in flames dangerously close to me, and I look up to find Enoch’s avenging face as he throws more fireballs at the few lamia that seem to be left.

“Come on Parker, fight, I’m here, and I’ll get you out like I promised, but you have to help me!” The wound in his neck is closing, but Parker is still limp and not moving. I jump up to defend against two more lamia coming at me from behind. Where are they still coming from? I look around and see Kallan make it to the driver’s door of a black Suburban. The engine turns over, and I continue to cut away at attacking lamia.

Nash grabs Talon’s body from the ash-covered ground and throws him over his shoulder. A lamia jumps toward them and rakes his claws over Talon’s side before Enoch lights the attacker on fire. Talon yells in pain and Nash hurriedly pushes him into the open back of the SUV. I call on the runes on my arms for extra power and pick up Parker carrying him toward the car.

Enoch meets me halfway and steals Parker from my shoulders. I cover both of them as Enoch makes it to the car and gets Parker in. Nash dives into the passenger seat quickly followed by Enoch jumping into the back. Enoch leans out of the still-open door and lights the remaining Suburban’s on fire, before slamming the car door and sealing himself inside. I kill two more lamia before jumping into the very back with Talon and pulling the door down. Kallan peels out, no instruction or encouragement needed and we speed maniacally down the dirt road.

I watch the other cars burning bright against the night, bodies turning to ash in our wake. The few remaining lamia step out of the shadows and eerily watch us drive away. I catch sight of a large blond lamia making his way towards the transfixed survivors; Sorik. A weak grip on my arm drags my attention away from the scene, and I look down to find Talon’s hazel eyes staring back into mine.