Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) - By Michelle Rowen Page 0,78

experienced it in full Technicolor unconsciousness.

I wasn’t sure how long it was until I started waking up. As soon as awareness began swirling around me and I peeled my eyelids open a little, the cloth was at my mouth again. I barely had a chance to struggle or summon a scream before darkness welled up.

This happened twice more before I finally came to full consciousness. My head ached. The world around me was blurry. My chest hurt when I inhaled raggedly and hoarsely, followed by a dry, wheezing cough. My broken wrist throbbed.

I lay on a hard floor in a small, dark room—small enough that my claustrophobia kicked in immediately and my heart began to race. There was a tiny window near the high ceiling that let in enough light to tell me it was late afternoon. I tried to breathe, in and out, and may have let out a small moan.

Apart from my headache and wrist, the next pain I felt was sheer, unadulterated hunger.

“Finally. Thought you were never going to wake up.”

I blinked several times until I finally shifted my gaze in the direction of the voice—also the source of my current hunger.

Jordan was crouched next to me.

“Get back,” I croaked out.

She shifted backward to give me some space. It helped a little.

“Where are we?” I managed. “What are you doing here?”

Her expression was pinched as she looked around. “Where we are? No idea. Some room with a locked door. What am I doing here? I’m guessing it’s the same reason as you. You didn’t come here of your own free will.” A bit of her bravado slipped away and I could see the fear in her green eyes. “I thought you were dead.”

I rubbed my head with my good hand. “And you’re disappointed that I’m not?”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course not. I don’t like you, Samantha, but I didn’t want you to die. There’s been enough death this week.” Her voice quavered. “What the hell is going on?”

The room was no more than ten square feet. I hated being in enclosed spaces so much. It made me feel trapped. Now I was literally trapped. “How long was I out?”

“A day and a half.”

I forced myself to sit up. “A day and a half?”

“It was yesterday morning when I was brought here. You were brought in an hour later. And then...all afternoon. Night. Day again...it feels like forever. He threw in a water bottle and a couple energy bars. I saved one for you.”

I sat up completely. My head throbbed with the effort and I brought my knees up in front of me, hugging them to my chest as I tried to sort things through. I pressed my right hand against my chest. My wrist was definitely broken.

Panic and anger swirled inside me at the thought that Stephen had kept me unconscious for a day and a half.

Locked in a basement with Jordan.

I looked at her. “We need to get out of here.”

“Gee, what a fantastic idea. I hadn’t considered that before.” Her sarcasm dripped. “The door’s locked. And it’s made of metal. There’s no way out. I already broke three nails trying.”

“What about that window?” I looked up at it.

“Do you have a secret identity as Spider-Man I’m not aware of? Besides, you’re small, but that window is still way too tiny to squeeze through.”

I struggled to get to my feet. Jordan tried to help me but I flinched away from her.

“What is wrong with you?” she snapped.

My stomach clenched as I tried to get control of myself. It took a second. “Trust me, you don’t want to get too close to me right now.”

“You are so weird.”

“Yeah, I’m weird. But take my word for it, okay? Stay back.” I got to my feet on my own and turned in a circle. It looked like a storage room, cleared of any storage so the room was completely empty. Just white walls. Ceiling-set lights. That small window. Two trapped girls. “Do you have a cell phone?”

“Oh, my God!” she exclaimed. “My cell phone! I could just call someone for help.” She glared. “He took it away from me, of course. First thing he did.”

I scowled at her. “You’re not helping.”

“Why is Stephen doing this?” Her earlier smart-ass tone had been replaced by raw pain and confusion. “Why would he do this to me?”

“Maybe you should have left him alone.”

“Nice. And let you have him?”

A cold line of perspiration slid down my back. Being in this tight spot with