skin if I hadn’t had more important things to do, like shaking off the Fae girl’s grip. Her fingers dug into my arm bruisingly hard, and she tugged me toward the door.
Ethan kept out of her way, but he was still giving me that cocky grin like he found all this really entertaining. He made an elaborate mock bow.
“Dana Stuart,” he said formally, “I’d like to introduce you to my sister, Kimber. Also known as the Bitch from Hell.” He laughed as he said it, so that it came out sounding halfway affectionate, but Kimber gave him the finger with her free hand.
The gesture just seemed wrong. Very un-Fae-like. Where was the icy reserve my mother had told me about?
I tried to dig in my heels, but Kimber was way stronger than she looked, and I couldn’t fight her any better than I could have fought Lachlan. It was all I could do to keep my feet under me as she yanked me over the threshold into the guard room, Ethan close on my heels.
I still had no voice, but a silent gasp escaped me when I saw Lachlan. He was lying facedown on the floor. A bright splash of blood spattered the floor near his head. Kimber ignored my shock, dragging me toward the exit.
“He’ll be all right,” Ethan assured me. “It would take an army to do him any lasting harm.”
As if to prove Ethan’s point, Lachlan groaned softly. Ethan’s eyes widened, and he pushed on my back while Kimber continued to pull my arm.
“We’d best get moving,” he said. “I doubt Lachlan will be happy with me when he wakes.”
I was half-pushed, half-pulled up the stairs and into the street. My voice still wasn’t working, and though I struggled as hard as I could, there was no escaping, and the street was deserted. A covered, horse-drawn wagon waited at the curb. Kimber pulled up the tarp with one hand, revealing the straw-covered wagon bed. Then she shifted her grip to my waist and, ignoring my flailing arms, picked me up and flung me into the straw.
She started to climb in after me, but Ethan stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“You drive,” he said. “I’ll keep our passenger company.” He waggled his brows, and Kimber rolled her eyes. She didn’t argue, though.
My heart galloped, and I was so scared I was shaking. I didn’t want to be alone and helpless in the back of this wagon with a man who was strong enough to knock Lachlan unconscious. Especially not when he’d done that little brow-waggle thing. I feared I knew exactly what he was planning to do to me while his sister drove the wagon.
Ethan climbed onto the wagon and dropped the tarp back over the back, blocking out all the light. Oh, God, now I was alone with him in the dark. I scrambled as far away from him as I could, until my back hit something solid. Then I started fishing through the straw with both hands, hoping against hope to find a weapon.
“You’ve no need to be frightened,” Ethan said, and to my immense relief his voice came from near the back of the wagon. “We’re relatively harmless, Kimber and me.”
“Tell that to Lachlan,” I found myself saying, amazed at how calm I sounded. Then I realized it meant my voice had come back, and before Ethan could silence me again, I screamed as loud and long as I possibly could.
Eventually, I had to stop or I was going to pass out.
“That’s an impressive set of lungs,” Ethan said, not sounding the least bit annoyed by my attempt to get help. “My ears may never recover.” I could hear the laugh in his voice, and it took a little of the edge off my fear. That sounded more like playful teasing than menacing kidnapper talk. I still wasn’t convinced he was “harmless,” and I wasn’t exactly feeling playful, but it didn’t sound like he was about to attack me.
“The wagon is spelled to be soundproof,” he continued. “I borrowed it from a friend of mine who swears it’s much more comfortable than the backseat of a car, if you know what I mean.”
Eww. Yes, I knew what he meant. And I hoped the straw had been changed since the last time Ethan’s friend had gotten lucky.
My shoulders slumped in defeat, and I suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired again. Tears burned my eyes. I hadn’t trusted Grace, but I’d at least hoped she was telling