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before.”

      “You have? Why haven’t you said anything until now?”

      “Because it wasn’t relevant.”

      “She broke in here, stole two of our daggers, stabbed your brother –”

      “I’m very well aware of her crimes, Sienna.”

      “– and you failed to think it was relevant?”

      “Unless it was more than a simple meeting,” Ethan added, watching Declan. Apparently, the warrior knew his brother too well.

      “Can we focus on what’s important here?” Declan snapped, slamming the glass on the table. “Harper has her and he’ll use her powers any way he can. Once he has access to them, we can kiss our sweet-assed victories goodbye.”

      The truth behind his words hung in the air like an unwelcome ache.

      Sienna nibbled her bottom lip, her eyes filled with renewed concern. “If Harper insists she sides with them, her options will be limited. If she doesn’t do it willingly, he’ll kill her.”

      Declan swallowed, hating to hear the words spoken aloud. He nodded, reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife and a map.

      “What about the hybrid in her?” Ethan asked.

      “No one knows about that. Besides, her mother used a spell that kept that side of her dormant. Her witch side is stronger. Any Keeper ability she has is nowhere near ours.”

      “If Harper’s discovered she’s a hybrid, would it help him?”

      “Not much,” Sienna replied. “The powers they scavenge are always diluted in the process. If her Keeper side is weak, there’d be little to gain.”

      Declan spread the map across the bar and glanced at Sienna. “Up for a location spell?”

      Green eyes flashed with curiosity. “She’s magical. A location spell won’t work for her unless I have her blood.”

      Declan reached for the knife and slashed his palm, ignoring the pierce of pain.

      “Declan?” Sienna’s voice tore through the silence, laced with confusion.

      He held his hand above the map and pumped his fist.

      “Declan!” Sienna snapped, snatching the towel off Ethan’s shoulder as he went to lock the front door. “What are you doing?”

      Blood dripped onto the map, red and angry, a reminder of the war they’d face if Harper scavenged Kate’s magic.

      Like hell.

      He took the towel from Sienna and wrapped his hand. “The location spell, Sienna.”

      “This won’t work. I need her blood.”

      “Use mine.”

      “I can’t search for her without her blood!”

      “I’m not asking you to search for hers.”

      Sienna’s eyes narrowed before widening as understanding dawned. “You marked her, didn’t you?”

      Damn right.

       CHAPTER TEN

      Kate had never been afraid of the dark.

      Until now.

      Although she’d been unconscious most of the time, she suspected Harper had taken her underground. It was too dark, cold, and quiet to be anywhere else. The walls were damp, the air smelt musty, and Kate wasn’t sure what she wished for more – fresh air or sunlight on her face.

      Both would signal freedom which now seemed like an impossible feat. Not with the shackles around her wrists and ankles. Her skin was raw, the flesh red from the binds.

      She had long since given up trying to free herself. They’d used shackles that were impossible to destroy, despite her strength. Since they’d taken her, she’d hoped her powers would set her free.

      But no.

      Her captives knew how to curb them.

      Bastards.

      The sound of approaching footsteps sent Kate’s heartbeat racing. She drew in a quiet breath, bracing herself for the onslaught of evil coming her way.

      The key turned in the lock, the sound loud in the quiet room. The wooden door pushed open, scraping along the sandy floor. A beam of light flooded the room, a brief respite from the darkness.

      Harper.

      Kate lay still, pretending to be asleep, hoping to gain the element of surprise. She peered at him through the hair that fanned her face. Her stomach recoiled as he approached, a mocking smile on thin lips; a syringe in one hand, a torch in the other. Without saying a word, he turned around to hang the torch on a hook in the wall.

      The face of a demon stared back at her. Piercing black eyes drawn into a frown of hatred, snarling teeth, and an expression designed to instigate fear.

      Air evaded her and she stared at it in horror.

      He turned back to her, and she almost baulked as he edged closer, his heavy boots thudding across the floor.

       A tattoo.

      Suppressing a shudder, Kate forced herself to breathe, knowing she had little chance of ever getting out of here if he injected her again. With each dose, she grew weaker. Their drug of choice brought with it an overwhelming exhaustion she’d never experienced before. It had been hours since her last dose and a fresh one would seal her fate.

      Kate waited, biding her time. He reeked of alcohol, the smell permeating the air as he approached. The bed creaked from his weight and she tried not to flinch when he stroked her hip. His hand played with the hem of her shirt, scraping calloused fingers along her skin.

      “All this time we’ve been looking for a way to beat the Beckham witch and her trio of guard dogs. Little did I know that the weapon I needed would come so beautifully packaged.” His calm voice made her insides twist. With a sinister gentleness he swept the hair from her face.

      He stroked her cheek with one hand whilst the other rested on her hip and she had to bite down on the inward shudder.

      Sighing, he shifted beside her and withdrew to ready the syringe. “But you’ve also been a pain in the ass.”

      Kate reared up, ramming her elbow into his face with a force that surprised her. She was weak from the drugs but it was enough to disarm him.

      He fell backward with a grunt, knocking over the torch. Kate sprang to her feet, her movements shaky, head fuzzy, body still shackled. Somewhere through the haze, she was able to charge forward, her drive for freedom stronger than ever.

      This was her only chance.

      She grabbed him by the shoulders, ramming her knee into his face. He yelled out as blood spattered from his nose.

      “You bitch!” he screamed as he struggled to his feet, swiping at the blood.

      “Small price to pay considering everything you’ve done to me.” Her voice, croaky with fury and hatred, sounded foreign.

      He charged her, the syringe clasped in his hand. The tiny room prevented her from dodging him and they stumbled across the bed.

      She caught the flash of the syringe as he rammed it toward her – his only chance of subduing her – but she rolled out of its aim, reared up and butted her head against his.

      Ignoring the pain, she scrambled for the syringe, a loud guttural groan echoing through the room. Lightning quick, she ripped it from his hand and slammed the lethal dose into his neck.

      His eyes widened as his jaw fell open.

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