2. Rissa

2

RISSA

The city lights blurred as I pulled out of the underground parking garage, leaving Repupair's offices behind. I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles white against the leather.

"So, how did you dodge the hunt when the others were banished?" Edward asked, breaking the silence.

I let out a long breath. "Really? You expect me to answer that?"

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Yes? It's an academic curiosity."

"It can stay that way." I snorted. "You daemons are powerful as a group, yeah, but as a group you're not as smart as you think you are."

"How so?"

I drummed my fingers on the wheel, choosing my words carefully. "Edward, we're not friends, and you asking questions like that does not help your case for borrowing my couch."

Edward chuckled. "Point taken. So you're content just being... normal?"

I shrugged. "Normal is relative. But yeah, I guess I am. It's freeing, in a way."

Edward nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I can understand that. The weight of expectations can be suffocating."

I glanced at him, surprised by his words. Maybe there was more to Edward than I'd initially thought.

As the drive continued, a strange sense of ease settled over me. It had been a while since I'd connected with someone outside work. I stayed guarded, but a part of me enjoyed the simple pleasure of good conversation.

As we neared my house, Edward's easy-going nature and genuine interest in our conversation had disarmed me more than I'd have liked to admit.

"You know," I said, breaking a brief silence, "I appreciate that you didn't help the Council. Even if you weren't ready to go scorched earth on them in the way they deserved."

Edward's lips quirked into a half-smile. "I'm not one for scorched earth tactics. But I meant what I said about not agreeing with their methods."

"They are the dangerous kind of fanatic, convinced they know what's best for everyone. Even when it mysteriously all works out to their benefit."

"My people's reputation is earned," he replied, his tone sober. "I'm trying to overcome it."

We pulled onto a hidden drive and spent the next minutes in silence as I navigated to my house, a modest two-story nestled among towering pines. It was worth every penny of the fortune it had cost to buy.

I cut the engine and gestured towards it.

"We're here. It's not much, but it's home."

Edward paused by the SUV and took in the surroundings, his gaze lingering on the dense forest surrounding us. "It's beautiful. Peaceful."

I led him up the path, pulling out my keys. "Rey and Cathy live in the vicinity. This place used to be where Rey and I lived, right after we all passed the barrier again."

"Oh?" Edward's eyebrows raised slightly.

"Yeah, the torrid tales of our relationship are all true," I said, rolling my eyes as I pushed open the door. "He moved out when he found Cathy. Found out she likes the woods too."

I showed Edward to the guest room, a cozy space with a view of the backyard that had been Rey's. I leaned against the doorframe, watching Edward settle in. He'd only brought a small duffel.

His movements were careful as he explored the room, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid of disturbing the tranquil atmosphere.

"Bathrooms down the hall," I said, gesturing with my thumb. "Towels in the closet. See you tomorrow."

Edward nodded, his blue eyes meeting mine with a mix of gratitude and something else I couldn't quite place. "Thanks. I really appreciate this."

I pointed a smile in his direction. I still felt a little uneasy, but I was a very light sleeper. "It's nothing. Get some rest. We can talk more in the morning."

As I turned to leave, Edward called out softly, "Rissa?"

I paused, looking back over my shoulder. "Yeah?"

"I meant what I said earlier. About wanting to help."

For a moment, I let the smile warm. "Goodnight, Edward."

I retreated to my room and headed for the shower. Part of me wanted to believe Edward, to trust in the sincerity I saw in his face. But centuries of caution and self-preservation weren't easily overcome. Time would tell.

Exhausted, I fell face first into my nice soft bed, and sleep came quickly.

Surfacing from that sleep, I wrinkled my nose. The place didn't smell right at all. My eyes snapped open.

A strange room. The walls curved oddly, meeting at a circular top. No scent of pine, the air was oddly neutral, in fact.

I slid out of bed, taking in my surroundings. A king-sized bed. Comfortable chairs. A fully stocked bar. For a prison, it was surprisingly luxurious.

Didn't mean anything. Luxury was something that could be taken away. How had I been nabbed while I slept? Even with Edward in my home, I would have woken up if anyone came into the house.

"What the hell is going on?" I muttered.

I studied the room more closely, my gaze drawn to the subtle curve of the walls as they narrowed toward the top. I squinted at a circular object nestled at the apex.

"Is that a cork?" I asked incredulously, disbelief coloring my tone.

A man chuckled behind me, an edgy rich sound that set off danger signals. "Yes. We're trapped in a bottle."

Instinct took over. I whirled to face him. My hands flexed, claws springing free as I scooped up a small metal figurine of an elephant and hurled it at the speaker.

To my surprise, he snatched it out of the air effortlessly. I hadn't lobbed it at him slowly.

"Nice throw," he remarked, examining the hunk of brass in his hand. "But let's not waste energy on futile gestures, shall we?"

A familiar face. The monsters who used illusions to soften their appearance often tweaked them over time. It was close enough I recognized him, but not enough I knew his name.

I glared at him, mind racing, trying to place him from his voice and words. "How did we end up in a damn bottle?"

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "As for who I am, that's a long story. As to how we got here. Your guess is as good as mine, Halo."

He said the name I'd taken for official business with that same edgy amusement. While the chiseled jawline and broad shoulders straining against his tailored shirt were common in male monster disguises, that tone wasn't.

A jolt of recognition hit me. I'd seen him only a few weeks ago, at Bran's wedding, but he'd changed his appearance almost entirely since then.

"Luce. How's life now that you're officially kicked off the Council?"

He smirked, spreading his arms wide. "It's great, thanks. Glad to see you finally figured it out. Though blank is a good look on you."

I couldn't help but notice how the movement accentuated his muscular build. Damn it, he'd picked an annoyingly attractive look this time.

"Don't shoot the messenger," Luce said, that confident smile never wavering. "I'm locked in here just as much as you are."

Hands on hips, I stared at him. "Why should I believe that? For all I know, you're behind this whole thing."

Luce leaned forward, fixing me with an intense gaze. "If I were, do you think I'd trap myself in here with your sunny temper and sweet disposition? I'm a lot of things, but a masochist isn't one of them."

I snorted but couldn't entirely dismiss his logic. "Fine. Let's say you're mostly telling the truth. What's going on?"

He shrugged, leaning back into the recliner. "Not much more idea than you. One minute I was minding my own business, the next, poof! Bottled daemon."

"There has to be a way out of here. Some weakness in the spell, or..."

"Trust me," Luce interrupted. "I've been over every inch of this place in the past day. Whoever did this knew what they were doing."

That narrowed the list to Council, the Guild of Alchemists, or Bran. And I was positive it wasn't Bran.

I stomped to the sideboard, frustration bubbling up. "So what, you planned to just sit here and wait?"

His lips quirked into a half-smile. "As opposed to flailing uselessly against an unfamiliar spell, fueled by an unknown amount of power? Yes."

He had a point, but I wasn't about to admit it. Instead, I glared at him. "I hope my presence gives you incentive to work harder then."

Luce laughed. "No doubt it will. But we might be here a while. Try to make the best of it."

I crossed my arms, sizing up Luce. This illusion's towering frame and chiseled features were imposing, but there was something almost playful in his demeanor. It felt somehow off, and it set my teeth on edge.

Narrowing my eyes, I spoke softly. "Why you?"

He shrugged again, his broad shoulders rising and falling with an easy grace. "No idea. I'm surprised I have company, to be honest, since it makes escape more likely."

I wasn't buying it. My fingertips itched, claws just out of sight. "Then what do you know?"

Luce's dark eyes met mine, a flicker of something – amusement? concern? – passing through them. "We're here physically. That means someone had access to our bodies while we were unaware and used a spell to shrink and transport us into a magically fortified bottle. My guess is they left an enspelled duplicate of our bodies wherever they took us, to distract people who might look for us if we vanished."

My stomach dropped. A bottle. Of course. Why wouldn't we be trapped in a bottle? I glanced up at the curved walls, the narrowing top, the cork. It was so obvious now that he'd said it.

"Fantastic," I muttered. "Trapped in a classic genie prison. With a demon. And a remake of sleeping beauty on the side."

I was annoyed enough I was willing to toss that insult out. Demon was what mortals called Luce's people.

"Daemon," Luce corrected, raising an eyebrow. "And I'm not exactly thrilled about the company either, kitten."

I bristled at the pet name, but before I could retort, a chilling thought struck me. If we were trapped here, in some kind of magical construct... What was happening to my friends? Were they in other bottles?

The fight drained out of me.

I slumped into a nearby armchair, its brocade covered cushions supporting me like a cloud. The seat was absurdly comfortable.

"Well, at least our captors have good taste in furniture," I muttered, scanning the room. Maybe it would have something I could use to help us get out.

A king-size bed dominated one corner, covered with a patchwork quilt whose jewel tones gleamed in the soft light. Scattered around the circular room were more seating options – a couch that looked perfect for napping, and a couple of overstuffed chairs that matched the one I'd plopped into. A sleek TV hung on one curved wall, and to my surprise, a fully stocked bar sat under it.

"Quite the set-up for a prison," I remarked dryly. "I'm almost impressed."

Luce got up and walked the bar, his graceful movement somehow managing to look relaxed. Now I knew it was Luce. No one else moved like he did. "They certainly seem to want to keep their guests comfortable."

A thought struck me, and I couldn't help the sarcastic smirk that crept onto my face. "So, tell me something, daemon lord. Do magically fortified bottles get cable?"

Luce flicked me an amused glance as he pulled out a decanter and two wine glasses. "Yes, actually. All of the channels. Wine? It's a Chateau Lafittle Rothschilde vintage."

I snorted, shaking my head. "You know that from smelling it?"

"No, I opened the bottle and poured it into the decanter." He poured two glasses, sipping from one.

A laugh snorted out of me. I'd learned about expensive wines from being around Roma. A bottle would be almost a thousand dollars each.

I might even drink a little.

"I prefer beer."

As I spoke, my mind raced. There had to be a way out of this. I'd faced worse odds before. But first, I needed more information. And as much as it pained me to admit it, Luce might be my best source.

Luce used the wineglass and gestured toward a door I hadn't noticed before.

"Through there," he said, "you'll find a little hallway with a bathroom and kitchen. Fully stocked, naturally."

I raised an eyebrow. "Naturally."

He turned, nodding towards a wooden chest next to the bed. "Entertainment in there. Cards, board games, even a little handheld video game. You know, in case imprisonment with cable gets boring."

My gaze followed as he walked to a small folding screen. He moved it to reveal an exercise machine. A treadmill, of all things.

"And that's for when we start feeling antsy," Luce added with a smirk.

I couldn't help but scoff. "We're not staying. How exactly are we going to feel antsy?"

The idea was absurd. We were trapped in a magical bottle. The thought of needing to work out was almost comical.

"I'd rather spend my time escaping," I said, pushing myself out of the chair.

Luce shrugged those massive shoulders of his as he studied me with an intensity that made me want to stare back harder. "Agreed."

Next to settle the sleeping question if we stayed here any amount of time. I pointed at the king-sized bed dominating one side of the room. "There's only one bed."

Luce gazed at me with bland innocence. "That is correct."

"Who's sleeping on the floor?" I challenged, crossing my arms.

He leaned forward in his chair, the force of his personality somehow making the spacious bottle feel smaller. "Kitten, you can sleep on the floor if you want to, but it's a king-size bed. Don't worry, I'm not so filled with lust at the sight of you that I'm going to assault you without your full cooperation."

I snorted, trying to ignore the way his casual arrogance grated on my nerves. "Likewise. And stop calling me kitten if you want to keep using your tongue."

The smile he gave me was full of edges. "I look forward to that encounter, Halo."

Silence fell between us, heavy and oppressive. I paced the length of the room, my footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. As I moved, I examined the spells lining the curved walls. Fantastically intricate, they'd need real power to blast through.

I needed to think about the best way to find a weak point.

My mind raced as I sank into one of the overstuffed chairs. I wasn't aware of the way Luce had been watching me as I moved.

As the minutes ticked by, I found myself stealing glances back at Luce, assessing him as a potential threat. His relaxed posture hid the tension I could sense radiating from him. He was just as trapped as I was, just as frustrated. But unlike me, he seemed content to bide his time.

I'd wait then and examine this place for weaknesses.