Chapter 15

15

L ost in a drug-induced dreamland where absolutely nothing made sense and everything stretched and curved like it was on some freaky spindle, she swore she’d heard a ground-shaking roar. Walking through her fantasy, working hard to stay on her feet and shift through what was real and what was fueled by whatever Batterfield had injected her with, she once again reached for Rafe.

“Hey, Dragon Ass, are you there?” Chuckling at her own silliness, feeling a little drunk and a whole lot of out of control, she went on with a snicker, “Aren’t you supposed to be my knight in shining armor?” Snickers turning to giggles which made her laugh out loud, “Or did you eat the knight?”

Even though he didn’t answer and she heard her words reverberating back and forth like a tennis ball against a brick wall within her own mind, she continued to jabber away. “Ya’ know, you really freak me out, Special Agent Rafe O’Rhordan. I honestly never thought about the whole love and marriage thing. Figured, my job was my other half then you appeared and everything changed.”

Woozy, her vision blurring and her head thumping, it felt as if she was falling seconds before something hard and dense punched her in the gut. Wincing in pain, trying to lift her arms or kick her feet or anything that would remove what felt like a metal bar from her stomach, she gagged as a musty-smelling rag was shoved into her mouth.

Rage at being manhandled and fury at feeling helpless, pushed away the effects of the drugs and cleared her mind enough to open her eyes and realize she was hanging upside-down. It wasn’t hard to put two-and-two together and come up with Norman Fucking Batterfield. Not only had the bastard drugged and kidnapped her for the sole purpose of sending them both to Hell to be wed by Lucifer, but then he’d thrown her over his shoulder and was presently hobbling down a candlelit tunnel.

Trying to force the rag from her mouth, she instead found herself screaming into it as dirt and rocks rained down when the earth over and around them shook with a vengeful fury. Again and again, over and over, everything shuddered and quaked forcing Norman to his knees and Nat to go flying.

Landing on her back with a thud that ripped the breath from her lungs, she gagged and wheezed, sucking particles of only God knew what from the cloth sliding farther and farther down her throat. Rolling onto her side, feeling as if every bone in her body was cracked or broken, the ground shook again, but this time she heard – “NAT!” And realized it was the roar of her mate.

Rocking back and forth, her arms tied to her sides and her ankles secured so tightly she could no longer feel her feet, she fought the gag in her mouth nearly forcing it out just as a hand closed around her upper arm and she dragged her to the side. Nails biting into her skin, pieces of rock abrading her flesh, and vomit rising in her throat, she once again screamed into the cloth as the top of her head came in contact with the large, sharp edge of something sticking out of the wall.

Warm and wet, blood gushed from her wound, flowing through her hair like the ever-extending legs of some creepy, gory spider. Thinking as quickly as her battered brain could, she threw her legs against the wall and prayed.

All too soon, the sharp edge that had cut her head sliced into the skin alongside her knee, down her calf and then finally, tore through the leather band around her ankles. Knowing it was her one and only chance of escape, she worked as hard as she could to show no signs that she was slowly getting free.

Another roar, closer, eminently more furious, undoubtedly more animalistic whooshed down the tunnel, not only shaking the rafters but sending waves of fiery heat blasting past her. Unceremoniously thrown to the side, she bit her tongue to keep from alerting Norman to the fact that she was awake and listened as he ranted and raved, and God help her, prayed to Lucifer.

“Great god of Darkness, show me the way. Lead your faithful servant out of the chaos and into the fires of your warm embrace.”

Fires of your warm embrace? Norman isn’t just psychotic, he’s delusional and certifiably bat-shit crazy…

Cracking one eye open, she watched him pace three steps one way and then three steps the other, moaning and praying, repeating the same line over and over. If only she could reach Rafe, tell him where she was, give him direction in his search, but no matter how hard she tried, she was the only one talking in her mind.

Then it happened, heat and flames lit the path behind her. Following Norman with her eyes as he ran back the way they’d just come, she waited until he was out of sight before digging her toes into the earth that made up the walls of the tunnel, pulling her midsection closer to the sharp edge, praying she would be able to cut the thick leather strap holding her arms.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Norman’s wails filled the tunnel as his pounding footsteps drew closer and closer.

Running right past her, he screamed, “Fire! Fire! FIRE!”

Throwing her head backward as far as it would go, witnessing for herself the flames racing towards her, following Norman’s footsteps, she yelled into her own mind, “The stupid son of a bitch had gasoline on his shoes.”

Pins and needles assaulted her feet and climbed her legs as the circulation blessedly began to return. The sharp edge cut the top of her thigh and gashed at the soft skin of her stomach.

Praying she didn’t pass out from blood loss before she got free or was engulfed by fire, she finally felt the tug and pull as the leather band around her waist was cut away. Flopping her still sleeping hand on the ground, falling over just as soon as her palm hit the dirt, she tried again and again until she was finally on her feet.

Blood still pouring from her head, her stomach and various places on her leg, she refused to give up. She would get to Rafe. She would not die in some serial killer’s hole in the fucking ground without ever telling him that somewhere since he marched into her Squad Room and that very moment she’d fallen in love with him.

Going the same way Norman had, she stumbled back and forth, bouncing off one wall and then another, screaming for Rafe both aloud and in her mind, and every step of the way her sight dimmed around the edges. Simply refusing to give up, she fell to her hands and knees.

“Hand, knee, hand, knee,” she chanted, throwing in a “Fucking Norman” here and there until her butt was literally leaning against the wall so she could stay upright and her forward movement had almost stopped.

“Rafe! Rafe, where are you?” Her voice echoed forward as flames crackled, sizzled, and popped behind her. “RAFE!” Was the last word out of her mouth before she fell forward, unable to move a muscle.