Taken by the Enemy (21 page)

“You’re not spirited, Clara, you’re a bitch.” Emmie regretted it the moment she said it, but instead of striking her the woman just stared at her.

“Is that what he said?” Her voice was soft. “Is that what Lucian said about me?”

“No.”
He had called her a fucking nightmare, and crazy, but not a bitch.

“What do you know anyway? He kicked you out of his bed too, so even if he liked your
spirit,
he clearly didn’t like what’s between your legs enough to mate you.” Clara smiled and made them start walking again. “He just never gave me a chance. I probably intimidated him, especially since he’s so out of practice. He would have loved fucking me.”

“Sure.” Emmie muttered, keeping the reality of their situation to herself.

“Either way, I’m glad he kicked you out. I was starting to think I’d never be able to get you alone again.” She laughed. “Now I’ll get to go back home. Maybe your daddy will even give me a reward for bringing you back, set me up nice in some little house. What do you think he’d pay to have you back safe and sound?”

He’d kill you before he’d pay you a dime.

Emmie kept her mouth shut tight, refusing to engage in the woman’s insanity any further. They had been walking most of the day and her feet and legs were tired, she just wanted to sit down for a minute, but based on the dropping sun – they could be at the city any moment.

Any moment
turned out to be another hour or so, but then the taller buildings inside the city came into view, and then the massive walls were visible through the trees. They were far to one side and Clara corrected their path to head directly towards the gates.

According to their history books, over a thousand years ago there had been a need for huge fortresses like the one that cradled the city. There had been open warfare between the large cities, but now everyone mostly stayed within their own walls. It took weeks to travel to the nearest city and the trips were only taken when it was truly necessary. Letters didn’t even move between the cities much anymore. Coming upon it from the outside was intimidating, not just because of the sheer size, but the small moving figures along the tops meant it was difficult to approach without being seen.

Except in the dark of night
.

Would Mathias still go through with his plan? What would happen if they did come into the city?

Staring at the walls in person made all of their talking feel almost impossible.

“HEY!” Clara shouted to her side, waving her free hand. “Guards! Hey!”

“Go back, exile!” One of the guards leaned over the wall, pointing back into the forest.

“I think you’ll want to bring us in!” Her voice rose up, the greedy grip on Emmie’s arm tightening.

“We don’t want you. Now go back before we fire a warning shot.” The guard turned to step back from the wall, and Clara cursed to her side.

“Before we go, maybe you should ask Jules Daniau if he’s missing a daughter!” Clara’s voice was taunting, and the way the guard rushed back to the wall made her laugh. “I’ve got Emmie Daniau here, but if you’d like us to leave —”

“OPEN THE GATES!” The guard roared, and Clara grinned over at Emmie.

“Look at that. Like a key in a lock. Guess Daddy does want you back.” Her words settled like stones in Emmie’s stomach, and she wished she could die on the spot, because whatever awaited her inside the walls was going to be so much worse than anything Lucian had done.

Lucian
.

Her chest ached and she dropped her head forward in defeat as Clara dragged her towards the gates. She might never see Lucian again, might never get to smooth over the mess they had both made the day before. Her ass was still sore from his punishment, but instead of the memory bringing up anger she just wanted to be in his arms again. To have him kiss her and comfort her.

The clanking of the interior metal gate rising could be heard even through the thick wooden doors. Emmie knew from sneaking around with Gabrielle when they were children, that a huge beam the size of a tree also barricaded the doors themselves. It took a team of men to raise the metal gate, and a team to lift the beam away, and several men on each door to push them open.

When the doors parted, there was an entire squad of guards, at least fifteen men, and two of them stepped forward to grab Clara and her, finally separating them. “Emeline Daniau?” The man’s voice was gruff, but Emmie kept her mouth shut.

“It’s her! I swear it is!” Clara screamed, pointing at her. “Check her back pocket! She has a photograph!”

Emmie cursed and looked up as the man dug his hand into one pocket, and then the other – and pulled out the photograph. It was folded in four, but the moment he opened it she heard his grunt. “It’s her. Let’s take them back.”

The walk through the city drew too much attention, but Emmie was able to keep her head down, letting her messy hair cover her face so the people they passed wouldn’t recognize her. It didn’t take long for them to arrive at a low building, and the strange glow of electric lights made the room they placed her in look odd. The man that was holding her arm turned her around and began to work at the ropes on her wrists, relief flooding through her that she’d at least have her hands free.

She was about to thank the man when another guard handed him metal cuffs. “Wait —”

“Sit down.” The guard pushed her backwards until she dropped into a wooden chair, and he fed her wrists through gaps in the back of the chair and cuffed them together. It wasn’t particularly painful, and the cuffs weren’t too tight, but it meant she wasn’t moving. Then the other man knelt on the floor in front of her and looped a cuff around her ankle.

“What are you doing?” she shouted, but he just grabbed her ankle tight when she struggled and pulled it to the outside of the chair, cuffing it in place. The first guard repeated it on her other side, and she found it impossible to bring her knees together.

Shit
.

“We have some questions for you and we don’t need you kicking or hitting. If you spit at us, or if you can’t behave, we’ll gag you and you can just nod. Understand?”

“You can’t do this to me.” Emmie’s voice was low, but the guard just laughed.

“I don’t think you understand just how angry your father is, he’s had us searching for you for over two weeks. He threatened to exile any of us that spoke a word about your absence, but he also promised great rewards if you were returned to him – in
decent
condition.” The man ran his thumb over her cheek and she pulled back from him, glaring as her stomach dropped. “We’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

The two men laughed as they left the room, and she heard the turn of the lock. Her heart was pounding against her ribs, and it only took a few quick tugs against the metal cuffs to realize that she’d only hurt herself if she struggled.

Her mind was a cacophony of fears that made her sick. Had her father really told these men they could touch her? Had she pushed him that far in his anger? What would happen once she was returned to him?

Tears threatened in her eyes, but she refused to cry. She wasn’t going to show fear to these men.

It seemed to be forever before she heard the lock turn in the door, but she didn’t lift her head even when the heavy footsteps of a man walked to the table in the room and grabbed the other chair. He dragged it, squealing, over the floor and set it down in front of her. “So, you’re Emeline Daniau.” The man sat down, but all she could see were his dark, clean boots. “I’m a sergeant in the guard here, and I have some questions for you. Your friend has been telling us quite a story.”

“She’s not my friend,” Emmie growled, her fists clenching on the other side of the chair.

“Either way, I need you to verify some things for us. Is it true there is a village of exiles in the forest?” His voice sounded bored, but Emmie kept her mouth shut. He repeated himself. “Is there a village of exiles in the forest, yes or no?”

When she didn’t respond, he leaned forward and grabbed her face, jerking her head up so he could stare into her eyes. His were dark brown, and his face was tanned, a faint shadow of facial hair across his cheeks.

“I assure you, this will go much more pleasantly if you answer me, Miss Daniau.” His grip tightened on her face, but she forced herself not to react or look away. “Is there a village, yes or no?”

He waited. His eyes flicking back and forth between her own, and then his jaw tensed.

“Last chance.”

Emmie took a slow, steadying breath through her nose, preparing – and then he released her face and backhanded her hard. A burst of white-hot pain exploded in her cheek, and she suddenly missed the comparatively weak strikes from Clara. She bit her lip, suppressing the urge to cry out, and then she made herself sit back up.

When she faced him again, he laughed a little, and then backhanded her other cheek. She would have fallen out of the chair if it weren’t for the cuffs, and the taste of copper in her mouth told her that her teeth had cut her cheek. This time it took her longer to steady herself, but she sat up again.

She wasn’t going to betray them.

If she did, she’d be no better than her father.

“Well, you’re a lot tougher than you look.” He planted his hands on the arms of her chair, leaning close as his eyes moved down her body purposefully. “I bet there’s a few other things we could do that would get you talking.” He lifted one hand and cupped her breast through her shirt, squeezing and kneading it, and she closed her eyes tight.

A loud series of knocks came at the door and then the door opened. “Sergeant!” There was a younger man in the doorway, dark haired, and he froze when he saw the man touching her, but quickly averted his eyes. “Sir, the other one says she can point out the village on a map. Should we give her one?”

The sergeant gave her breast one more hard squeeze and then he stood up slowly, towering over her as she tried to hide her trembling. “Yes, we’ll show her a map. Tell the men I want Miss Daniau cleaned up.”

“Yes, sir.” The young man nodded and then the sergeant left. He looked over at her, but she dropped her chin back to her chest, biting her lip hard to try and hold back the tears. A moment later she heard the door shut, but she was shocked to hear the man’s footsteps coming towards her.

Her whole body shook, and she wished her hands or legs were free so she
could
hit him, or at least try to defend herself.

“Are you okay?” His voice was quiet, but she lifted her head to glare at him, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid question. I just —” He cursed. “I need to know if something the other woman said was true.”

For a moment, Emmie contemplated spitting in his face, but then she saw the fear in his own eyes and it made her pause.

“She said you were with a man named Mathias?” His voice shook when he asked, and when she didn’t respond, he pleaded, “
Please
, you don’t have to tell me anything else. I swear, I just… I need to know.”

Emmie swallowed slowly, her throat uncomfortably dry. “Yes,” she whispered.

The shock on his face couldn’t be faked. Color faded from his cheeks as he sat back, one hand pushing back the hair from his forehead. “Was it – was it Mathias Stone?”

“I never heard a last name,” Emmie growled out the words, but the young man suddenly laughed, his voice growing more excited even as he stayed quiet.

“But you were with him, she said you spent all your time with him and some man named Lucian.”

“So?” Emmie asked, the bitterness unable to leave her voice.

“She says you know everything about the village, about how they run it.” His excitement was increasing, and he leaned forward towards her.

“I don’t know anything.”

“But – but you were
with
them!” He sounded desperate, and something about him tugged at her, but she was in enough trouble all on her own without borrowing his.

“I spent the whole time on my back. Trust me, they weren’t telling me any secrets.” The words came out harsher, angrier than she had meant them to, and his head snapped back like she’d struck him. Color rushed back into his cheeks.

“I’m – I’m sorry.” He shook his head, sighing. “I just thought – I hoped…”