Chapter Five

Jade

I paced. Unable to relax, I couldn't get Magnus's words out of my head. Arnaud planned to torture me, not just hold me for ransom. Record my screams not just for posterity, but to encourage my father to reconsider not caving in to Arnaud's demands.

He's leaving town the day after tomorrow. I'll find a way to neutralize the guards upstairs. Eat, Jade. You need to keep your strength up.

I couldn't eat. The burgers and fries he'd brought cooled in the cold basement, their scents, once tantalizing, now smelled icky. My stomach churned until nausea entered, and once that happened, all hope of eating vanished. I feared I'd puke up what I didn't have in my stomach, hurl nasty bile all over the floor.

For the umpteenth time, I focused my attention on the slide that allowed Magnus to feed me. I worked at it, frantic, trying to slide it open. Not that I could fit through the opening, but it was the cell's weakest point. If I opened it from the inside, maybe my dragon claws could grab a hold, my strength break it to pieces.

"Fucker," I muttered, working at the door. "How'd they put me in here? Not through that."

Once again, I searched for the entrance, not finding a single seam, no button to push, no hinge. Stepping back, I gazed up into the bright light. Not at the beams above, but at the top of my cage. Shifting, my dragon body all but filling my cell, I reached up to the top. My claws scrabbled against the smooth glass, or whatever the shit my prison had been made from, and I pushed.

I pushed hard.

The round top I'd never knew was there popped out and slid down the cell's side to land with a clatter on the floor. In disbelief, I stared at the opening. No way could my dragon fit through that. My human body sure, that's how they put me in. Nor could my two-legged body climb up the slick walls.

"Shit," I muttered, reaching my right talons through the opening.

I grabbed hold of the edge and yanked.

Nothing happened save I hurt my arm. Swearing under my breath, the sweet closeness of freedom teasing me, making me hurt myself in my attempts to break the glass. I set both taloned hands to the edges and pulled down. I succeeded in pulling myself up.

It hit me then.

Still hanging onto the edge, I shifted forms. Now I hung twenty feet above the cement floor, hanging by my fingers. Strong, yes, athletic, yes, I'd never worked out using pull-ups. Taking a moment to breathe, hang, and rest, I shut my eyes.

I visualized pulling my body up through the rounded opening. I imagined my arms strong enough to not just hold my dead weight, but to shift it upwards. I saw myself gripping the edges, rising high enough to rest my arms, not just my hands, on the outer glass.

Just do it.

After I took a deep breath, with plenty of oxygen in my lungs, I pulled with every ounce of strength I possessed. It felt as though my arms were being ripped from my shoulder sockets. But my body rose. Higher by an inch, then another. I knew my head had passed the opening, for now I scented the dank, nasty cellar air.

Come on.

Grimacing, I fought for more height. My hands trembled, threatening to lose their grip, my arms singing with pain. I called on my dragon strength, my other self, the part of me that only a tactical nuke could take out.

I rose higher, my body shaking, until I thrust my right elbow across the edge. Then my left. Breathing hard, I rested, the terrible weight off my biceps and gathered now in my shoulders. I dared not rest too long, for my shoulders might give way at any moment.

However, without something to grab onto, I planted my palms on the clear glass. Terrified I'd slide right back down, then plunge to the cement floor below, I kicked upward with my legs. I gained an inch. Another kick, another inch. Now my chest lay against the edge. Until my belly did, more than half my weight hung into open space.

I needed to get my greater weight resting on the glass roof. Bracing my arms, I kicked, and heaved my chest further up, the edge now cutting into my stomach. I breathed raggedly, panting, the important part of my body now lying on the glass.

Easy peasy.

By wriggling back and forth, I inched my way across the roof until all that lay over the opening were my ankles and feet. I shut my eyes, lying flat, catching my breath, trying to regain some strength. Once I slid down the outer glass, I'd need to get past the dragons above.

Hopefully without a fight.

After a while, I carefully turned around so that when I slid down the glass, I'd land on my feet, not my face. I moved backwards on my belly, striking the curved dome of the cell. Unable to stop gravity from taking me, I slid down the outer cell.

I struck the floor on my feet, then bounced onto my ass. It jolted my teeth shut, but I didn't care. I'd escaped. A fierce, hot, and savage joy burst through me. I did it. I'm free. No torture chamber for this kid, I'm so outta here.

Standing, I brushed my jeans off while gazing up at the basement's ceiling. Two guards up there. Hmm. Sure, I could put plan A into action, break the beams, let the floor cave in. Something told me not to do that. Why my gut said no to that plan after we'd gone to all the trouble to make it, I had no clue.

Still, I listened to my gut. In all our years together, she hadn't let me down yet.

Creeping up the wooden staircase, listening for guards, I climbed higher, then higher. At the top, there was no door as such, only a wide opening. Keeping my back to what wall there was, I peered into the room.

A vast expanse, it had the cement floor, broken machinery, dry boards, plaster, and no guards. After taking a long look around, observing windows – holy shit! They're at ground level . This was the basement. Where I'd been kept must be the subbasement. Many of these ancient buildings had them.

Appreciating my gut's intelligence, I located the next set of stairs. But first, maybe I could weasel out a window. Don't bother engaging the guards at all. Stepping carefully, not wanting to draw the guards' attention by making a clatter, I edged my way to the nearest window.

My luck finally joined me.

The glass had long since been broken out. Standing on an old crate, I hopped onto the ledge, then wriggled through the window. No glass remained in the crusted molding to cut me. On the ground outside the warehouse, free at last, I took a look around.

I faced an alley. Broken glass, old soda and beer cans littered the graveled lane. A few stinking dumpsters pockmarked the narrow way between the warehouse and the one behind it. A few stray cats eyed me with suspicion before vanishing into cracks and broken windows. I glanced back.

Neither guard stared at me from the windows. Yet, I now stood on the same level as them. A single look through the busted panes and they'd be after me. I hit a jog trot, headed for the closest street, and turned the corner.

Only after a few blocks did I begin to believe I'd truly escaped. They'd dare not pursue me in the dragon forms in broad daylight. They probably didn't know I'd even left my cell. When either Arnaud or Magnus returned, the hunt would begin.

The streets were nearly empty of traffic in this neighborhood. A few gangstas lingered on street corners, derelict cars lined the roadway. I had no police baton, no way of defending myself except by shifting. Not even I dared that.

I had no money, no credit card, no cell phone. What I did have was the determination to not be caught by Arnaud ever again. I walked quickly, staying warm by moving, checking behind me for any pursuers. Including gangstas who might think attacking me was an easy thing. I walked west, toward the downtown area where more people, more traffic, more action would hold off any pursuers.

The afternoon passed. Block after block I walked, hungry, thirsty, my body aching, blisters rising on my feet. I didn't stop. I dared not stop to ask someone for help. In this neighborhood, no one trusted anyone. Maybe if I reached a better part of town, I might ask to borrow a phone, call my father.

An hour or so later, I finally reached a prosperous area with open stores, banks, restaurants, strip malls. I noticed a smoke shop just ahead. If anyone didn't mind a bedraggled looking redhead in their store, that would be one. I opened the door, a bell jangling over my head, and walked inside.

The long haired, bearded dude behind the counter looked up as I entered. "Help you?"

"Yeah. Do you have a phone I can use?"

"Sure, I guess. You okay?"

I half-laughed, half-sobbed as he brought a land line phone from behind the counter. "No. I was kidnapped. I escaped just a few hours ago."

"Sum bitch. Girl, you want to call the cops?"

"I will. I have to call my dad first. I need him to come get me."

My fingers shaking, I dialed my father's cell number, crossing my fingers he wasn't in some blasted meeting and had his phone on silent. Or ignored the call as he didn't recognize the number. I heard a click.

"Kinnard."

"Dad." I tried not to cry, to show weakness, to shame myself. Yet, I choked on that single word. The long-haired guy held my free hand in his, and maybe that's what got me through the call.

"Jade?"

"Yeah. It's me. Um, your pal Arnaud, he – he –"

"Took you, yeah, I know."

"Dad." I stopped the wail with an effort. "Will you come get me?"

"Look, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. Can't you take a cab?"

"I have no money."

"Christ." I listened to the exasperation in his voice, and it broke my heart. "I'll come get you after. Where are you?"

"On Fifth Avenue, at – at –"

"Buster's Smokes," the dude provided helpfully.

I relayed that to my parent. My father, my only living relative, grunted, then hung up on me. In despair, I gave Buster back his phone, fighting to not break down in tears. He accepted the phone and put it back under the counter.

"I heard all that," he commented. "Your pa ain't worth shit, girl."

"I know."

Taking his wallet from his back pocket, he pulled some bills from it. Dropping the billfold on the counter, he took my hand and pressed the cash into it. "This is cab fare, girl. You got a friend you can stay with?"

"Y-yeah."

"This should get you there. I'd call an Uber for you, it's cheaper, but I think a cab will be faster. There's a cab stand just down the block."

"I don't know what to say."

Buster smiled, winked. "Pay it forward, honey, that's all I ask. This ole world needs a little more kindness in it."

My throat thick, I went around the counter and hugged him, kissed his bristled cheek. "I promise. I'll pay it forward."

"Call the cops, now. Get that sum bitch."

"I'll get him. With or without the cops' help."