more playful tone, I joked, “Farm animals, domestic animals, and wild animals.”
“I hate to say it, but I’m impressed.”
Following her impromptu compliment, the remaining drive passed in silence. Jazmine spent her time flipping through bridal magazines and daydreaming about her wedding dress and what she mentally referred to as mating with Zane. She seemed to regard my marriage to Zane as an incidental incident, easily rectified.
Sickened by the graphic images of her imagined honeymoon activities, I sent my mental tentacles out, away from Jazmine, seeking my husband. I’d never been successful making contact with someone hundreds of miles away, but I had to try.
I was frustrated to find that even with all the recent advances in my abilities, I still couldn’t communicate at this distance. We were almost to Seattle. Zane was a good eight hours southwest. I guessed he was out of range. Though I couldn’t be certain he’d open his mind to me even if I could reach him.
After attempting to reach Michael, Mack, and then Stryder, I gave up on my search and gave in to the fear nipping at my thoughts, tormenting me with the endless possibilities of brutality that might lie ahead. My exhaustion finally overrode my fear, and I dozed off, just to be awakened a short time later when the limo skidded to a stop, jolting me sideways.
With my eyes still closed, I determined that I’d been blindfolded during my nap. Automatically, I reached for the offensive fabric blocking my vision.
“No. No. Hands off. Just be thankful you were sleeping. We waited until the last possible moment before putting it on,” Jazmine said.
With my head still fuzzy from sleep, I snipped before thinking about the potential consequences. “Aren’t you the nice and polite kidnapper? I’ll make sure to keep notes on how to treat my future enemies.” I didn’t need my eyes open to sneer.
Unable to see her reaction, I pushed into her mind.
What an ungrateful bitch. She should be thankful. Maybe I’ll torture her later, but I’ve got to lure Zane here. We’ll watch her die together, as mates.
Tempted to respond to her thoughts, I bit my tongue.
“Get her into the dorm and put her in the lower hall. Maybe then she’ll understand the importance of pleasing me.”
Once again, my mouth had earned me the wrath of another person … a werewolf. Why couldn’t I swallow my sarcasm? Now I was headed to some horrible place created for the worst of their prisoners. I didn’t do well camping, and I was doubtful I’d survive in some dirty, dank hole.
Deciding it was best not to stir up any additional trouble, I allowed myself to be steered from the limo. I launched more mental probes and discovered I was surrounded by were creatures, primarily mutants from what I could tell.
Without the use of my eyes, I confirmed what I’d noticed before, werewolves and mutants smelled different. Over all, the mutants didn’t smell badly, just odd. I still couldn’t understand why Jazmine, a purebred werewolf, was hanging out with the mutants she hated.
The more I found out the less I knew. Not a great formula for solving a mystery or saving my life. At least if her last thoughts were accurate, I had some time before she reduced me to a bloody pulp.
She intended to use me as bait — for Zane.
The problem with her plan was the simple fact that Zane was furious with me. Furious enough to leave me to Jazmine’s whims?
I’d know soon enough.
***
Chapter 37
I detected the minute we entered a building. The lingering scent of flowers was replaced by the stale, sweat-tinged odor of too many people crowded together.
My blindfold was yanked off, getting caught for one agonizing moment in my tangled curls. “Ouch!” I yelped. “You don’t have to be so rough.”
Jazmine trilled. A sound that sent shivers down my spine.
Her laughter was minus even a hint of happiness. Rather it rang with perverse pleasure over my discomfort. I figured her attempts at niceties were long over. Part of me was glad. I was tired of playing games with a serial killer who was lusting after my husband.
She grasped my chin in her hand, forcing my face within an inch of hers. “Rhonda mentioned you had a sarcastic streak. She also said you were used to getting what you wanted. I can relate to that. I always get what I want. Which means, you won’t.” She flicked my chin, hard, before tugging me into a headlock.
Opposed to violence, I was