Sebastian (Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance) (Desired by a Dragon Book 3) Read online

  Defeat rippled through me and I closed my eyes. This situation had gone from bad to worse. The hunter’s sister, Vanessa, was dead. Silas had charred the bitch a little over a month ago and dumped her ashes into the swamp after she attacked him and Violet.

  Vanessa was the sole reason our family had gone on the run. She’d managed to hide what she was while she dated Silas. Her goal, same as every other hunter, was to rid the world of shifters, and it had been clear she would resort to anything to see it through.

  “Tell me where you are and we can make a trade,” my brother insisted, surprising me with his quick thinking.

  I narrowed my eyes, wondering what he had up his sleeve. We both knew what he was offering wasn’t possible. There was no way we’d be able to fish Vanessa’s ashes from the swamp and I doubted trading his sister’s remains for a live person would seem fair to the hunter.

  Laughter blasted through the phone. “Make a trade? We both know a fair trade isn’t even on the table, Silas.”

  My pulse elevated at the sound of his laughter and my vision darkened while I fought hard to control my dragon. This guy was testing every ounce of my willpower. What the hell kind of game was he playing?

  “Then why take Casey?” Silas asked.

  “Because the fairest trade one could make, given the situation, is a life for a life. Wouldn’t you say so?” A sense of arrogance was embedded within his words. It fueled the fire raging through my veins, making me eager to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze. “While I would have preferred to take the life of your sister—as it seemed only fair since you stole the life of mine—Scarlet seems as though she’s out of town. I had to settle for Violet’s life instead, but was pleasantly surprised when I realized I’d taken her little sister by accident. As I’ve said before, the two look so similar.” A muffled whimper made its way through the phone, and I knew it was Casey’s. The bastard was putting his hands on her.

  “Get your fucking hands off her!” I shouted, unable to bite my tongue any longer.

  “Temper, temper.” The hunter tisked.

  “Don’t worry, Casey. I’m coming for you,” I insisted, hoping she could hear me.

  Silas shoved me and twisted around until his back faced me.

  “Don’t hurt her. She has no part in any of this,” my brother pleaded.

  The hunter laughed, causing my insides to blister with rage. I opened my mouth to insert a few choice words for him, but Casey’s soft voice filtered through the phone. It was barely audible, but there nonetheless.

  “Gideon’s,” I could have sworn I heard her mutter.

  Silas tipped his head to the side, and I gathered he was hearing the same thing. Casey was mumbling the word Gideon’s. She was trying to tell us where she was. The problem was, I had no clue where the hell Gideon’s was. I didn’t even know anyone named Gideon.

  “I mean it. Casey is an innocent. She’s human, she doesn’t know about this world.” Silas tried to stall, giving Casey more time to give us another clue. “It goes against everything hunters stand for to harm a human.”

  Silence worked its way through the phone line and I wondered if Silas’s words had struck a chord in the hunter. I listened for Casey to say something else, but she didn’t. Either the hunter had placed some distance between them or she’d given up on trying to speak.

  “Maybe so, but in situations where one of our own has been killed… all rules go out the window.”

  “Even when one involved is a human?” my brother pressed.

  “Aw, but Casey isn’t just a human, is she? Her subconscious has been opened to the world of filthy shifters whether she admits it to herself or not.”

  “Why don’t we make this trade fair, then?” Silas pressed forward. “Me for Casey. You know it’s me you want anyway.”

  “No! Neither of you!” Violet shouted. She’d gathered herself enough to make her way inside the house and was standing a few feet away with her arms folded over her chest. “This is insane!”

  Silas pressed his index finger to his lips in an effort to ask her to be quiet, before reaching out for her. She stepped into his embrace and her head fell onto his shoulder. A muffled sob drifted from her.

  “Someone sounds upset by that deal,” the hunter gloated. “But, I must say, I’m pleased with the new offer on the table.”

  “Where should I meet you?” Silas’s voice had turned grave. I knew the tone well; it was the one he used when dealing with business issues.

  “I’m in the mood for ice cream. Let me get this beauty cleaned up and presentable—she is looking rather banged up and filthy—and we can meet at Sprinkles Ice Cream in one hour.” The sound of Casey sniveling filtered through the phone to my ears, and I let out a low growl as I imagined his hands on her again. “Oh, and leave that hotheaded brother of yours at home.”

  “Done. I’ll be there in an hour,” Silas agreed.

  The phone went dead as the hunter hung up, and my insides burst into flames with the heat of my dragon. Scales prickled across my skin as I felt myself shift. I struggled to contain the beast inside me, but couldn’t. There was too much anger churning through me, and too many high-level emotions ripping me to shreds.

  I barged through the back door and into the yard, fearful of scaring Violet or destroying their kitchen when I changed.

  Silas followed me. “Calm down, little brother. Everything will be fine.”

  I knew he was trying to help me better control my inner beast, but it wasn’t working. Nothing would. I knew that much. Emotions were eating my insides and taunting my dragon.

  Big black wings sprouted from my back as I tipped my gaze to the sky and released the breath of fire that had been building. My chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath afterward.

  “I’ll get her back safe and sound. I promise you and Violet,” Silas insisted.

  “She means more to me than should be possible.” I closed my eyes and released a shaky breath. “I think I love her, Silas.”

  His hand on my shoulder startled me. I jerked back. “I could tell from the way you sounded on the phone earlier. You know I’ll do everything I can to get her back. For you. For Violet.”

  “This shouldn’t be happening! Casey should be here right now!” Violet shouted from where she was standing at the back door.

  Silas left me to comfort her. It was probably for the best, because I could feel heat filling my lungs again. My dragon was pissed, and I didn’t blame him. The only thing he’d ever craved had been taken away before he had a chance to bask in the blissfulness of finding it.

  “She doesn’t know anything about this world, Silas. She’s probably so scared,” Violet continued.

  Gideon’s. The name floated through my mind, whispered in Casey’s sweet voice.

  “Was it just me or did you hear Casey say Gideon’s a few times in the background?” I asked them.

  “Yeah, I thought I heard it too.” Silas wrapped his arms around Violet and pulled her close. His eyes locked with mine. “Have you heard of it before?”

  “No. It could be a place or a person, it could be anything.” My mind shifted to thoughts of Bobby. He was local, which meant he might know whether Gideon’s meant a business or a person’s house. “I think I might know someone who can help, though.”

  I gave my wings a big flap and soared into the sky, not caring if it was still daylight. I was taking a huge risk of being seen, but finding Casey was all that mattered, and getting to Bobby as quickly as possible might be the only way to find her faster.

  If I could figure out where this place was before the hunter took her to the ice cream shop, I might be able to stop whatever was about to happen. Because whether Silas wanted to admit it or not, we both knew the hunter wouldn’t trade Casey for him without a fight. Even on neutral grounds in front of humans, shit would still go down. It was inevitable, but I was about to make sure I had the element of surprise. Shit would still go down, but it would be on my terms and no more harm would come to Casey. I w
ould make sure of it.

  Chapter 7

  Casey

  I was positive Silas and Sebastian hadn’t heard me; my throat hurt too bad to speak loud, but at least I’d tried. My fingertips brushed along the tender flesh of my neck where the bastard had wrapped his meaty hands around my throat moments before he made the call. God, I’d been so close to escaping. Fear scraped along my insides as I worried another opportunity might not present itself.

  “Ice cream sounds good. I’m a little hot, aren’t you?” He crouched in front of me so we were eye level.

  I held his stare but didn’t speak. Remaining mute wasn’t an attempt to make me seem defiant or to piss him off, it was only to keep me stronger. If I opened my mouth, I wasn’t sure what would come out—whimpers, pleas, cries for him to release me.

  I refused to let him think he’d broken me.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were mute.” A chuckle slipped past his lips as he started toward a door a few feet away.

  It was hanging by a few screws and covered in mildew. Stickers had once been slapped across the front of it to spell out the word office, but over time they’d faded and begun to peel away. One of the F’s was missing and a few other letters looked as though they weren’t far behind from giving up too. This place was a dump. From the crap littering the shelves and the way things were set up, it was clear it used to be a grocery store years ago.

  I followed my kidnapper with my eyes until he disappeared into the dark room. He came back seconds later holding a dry-rotted scrap of cloth. I watched him as he walked past me, heading down one of the aisles that long ago had been crammed with food products that didn’t have ten layers of dust. I focused on the top of his head, watching to see when he turned back around. Nearly a minute passed before he finally did. There was a jug of something in his hand. It took me a moment to realize it was water.

  Apparently, he was serious when he’d said he planned to clean me up before we left for the ice cream parlor.

  My nose crinkled in disgust. This guy was twisted. He’d dragged me through dirt and grime, manhandled me more than once, and now he wanted me to clean myself up.

  Fear lumped in my throat, because I’d read enough thrillers and watched enough movies to know I’d either die before he took me to the ice cream shop or he’d do something to disfigure me seconds before passing me over. He was a psychopath, and they got off on crap like that. All I could do was hope he gave me something in the next few minutes I’d be able to use against him and escape with.

  He set the jar of water at my feet and tossed the disintegrating rag in my lap. I didn’t move. Instead, I waited for him to say something. Wasn’t it always best to wait for the psycho to give orders, then to move when they didn’t ask? I wasn’t in a position where I felt like taking any chances.

  “Well, aren’t you going to clean yourself up?” He nodded toward the jug of water sitting in front of me. “I would lend you a mirror, but you seem like the type to break it in half and stab me to death with a shard.”

  The corner of my mouth quirked upward. He wasn’t wrong. In fact, I’d been hoping he would give me a mirror so I could do just that. Now I didn’t know what I was going to do to get away. I couldn’t let him move me to another place. He’d already moved me once because I hadn’t been able to get away or put up a big enough fight, and everything I’d ever read or been told about self-defense had always stressed a person’s chances of survival dropped with each location their attacker moved them to.

  My chances of survival were already low because I’d been moved once. It was imperative I didn’t allow him to move me to a third location, but there wasn’t crap I could do to save myself with water and a disintegrating rag.

  “I can clean you up myself, but from the look in your eyes I can tell that’s the last thing you want me to do,” he teased.

  I reached out for the jug of water, taking notice of the weight while keeping my eyes trained on him. A scenario where I tossed the jug, knocking him out so I could reach the key on his belt loop and unlock my ankle shackle, passed through my mind. It seemed like a good idea, until I began to wonder what would happen if I missed. Would he try to strangle me again? Would he beat me senseless this time?

  Until I had an idea that was concrete, without any way to backfire, I would have to do as he said.

  I twisted the cap off the water jug and dampened the rag. It fell to pieces as soon as water touched it, decomposing in my hand. I held onto the largest section and wiped it over my face to clean myself like he wanted.

  “That’s it, good girl.” His tone made my skin crawl. “You’ve got a little dried blood on your chest, would you like me to get it for you?” His eyes flashed with a sick sense of hunger I’d been fearful of seeing as his gaze centered on my chest.

  I wiped vigorously, hoping to get the dried blood off before he reached out to help. Thankfully, his cell rang and he stepped away to answer it.

  “Morgan, how nice of you to call,” he answered in a businesslike tone.

  I paused in wiping myself clean and searched around for anything that might help me escape. A rusted paperclip lying a few feet away on the grimy floor captured my attention. I reached for it, but my fingers weren’t long enough. I could barely brush the tip of it with my fingernail. After checking to make sure the asshole was still distracted with his phone call, I used the only thing I had to help me reach the paperclip—the scrap of a rag he’d given me.

  I wadded it up in my hand and extended my arm as far as it would reach. I reared my wrist back and thrust it forward, careful to release everything except a corner of the rag. The paperclip disappeared, trapped beneath the damp rag. A long breath of relief pushed its way from my lungs, even though I knew I wasn’t in the clear yet.

  As slowly as I could manage, I inched the rag toward me, praying the paperclip would come with it. The slight sound of metal scraping against concrete floated to my ears, sending relief trickling through my bloodstream. It was working. The paperclip was moving. My eyes darted to my attacker and remained glued there while I continued pulling the paperclip toward me.

  Once it was within my reach, I tossed the rag to the side and scooped it up. My fingers shook as I unfolded it from its shape. A straight section was what I wanted. Once I had one created, I inserted it into the lock on my shackle and wiggled it around in the hope it would release and I could bolt for the door while he was distracted by his conversation.

  My kidnapper paced in front of the office door, keeping his back to me. “I’m still on it. No. I don’t think that. I said no,” he shouted. Whoever Morgan was, she was seriously pissing him off. I wished she wouldn’t, because I didn’t want him to take his aggression out on me once he got off the phone. “Morgan, I already fucking told you my sister has not gone rogue. I know Silas is here, but she’s not with him. He’s done something to her. She hasn’t gone rogue. She wouldn’t do that.”

  I had no idea what going rogue meant, but from his demeanor and the tremor of anger in his voice, I could tell it wasn’t anything good.

  I tuned out his conversation, choosing to only focus on whether he was looking my way as I continued to mess with the lock holding me in place. The thing wouldn’t budge no matter how many times I jabbed at it with my paperclip. The stupid thing wasn’t thick enough. I flipped it around in my hand, deciding to use the curved end instead, but it wouldn’t fit into the hole. My eyes zeroed in on my captor’s back as I bent the straight end in half to form a different sized piece to work with.

  Movement outside a window near my right caught my attention. I clasped my hand around the paperclip, hiding it in case it happened to be someone else working with the asshat who’d kidnapped me. When no one barged in, I went back to fiddling with the lock, but couldn’t shake the sensation that someone was watching me. My eyes darted from window to window, searching while I kept my paperclip working. At first, I didn’t see anything. But then I did.

  Large, golden eyes stared at me from t
he shadows nearby. It was clear they were the eyes of an animal, but there was something familiar about them all the same. Maybe it was their warm color or their shape. I didn’t have time to think about it for a long, because one minute my kidnapper was hanging up with whoever Morgan was, and the next he was tackled to the ground by a guy that had to be dressed in a Halloween costume, because there was no way the scales and spikes protruding from his flesh could be real. I watched as he continued to grapple with my attacker, but only until another dressed in the same costume rushed inside.

  I shrank against the wall behind me as the second creature ignored the brawl taking place and made his way toward me. His hands were extended in front of him as though he was trying to calm my fears. I squished myself against the wall harder as I stared at him. Either I’d hit my head harder than I’d thought on the coffee table or the douche who’d kidnapped me had caused brain damage when he attempted to strangle me, because what I was seeing couldn’t be real.

  The creatures seemed to be part man, part reptile. Scales covered the majority of their naked bodies, but it was the tiny spikes forming crazy designs across their skin that really had me thinking I’d gone nuts. Willow Vale was a small town, and I didn’t think they had their own version of a comic con happening, which was exactly where these guys belonged.

  “Casey, it’s okay. It’s me, Silas,” the reptilian man inching closer to me said.

  My eyes widened as I continued to stare at him. I opened my mouth with the intention of saying something, but the commotion behind him captured my attention. The fight between my attacker and the first creature to burst into the building was heating up. Each were landing punches and kicks, damaging the other further.