Knight of the Living Dead by Ava L. Bishop

Author:Ava L. Bishop [Bishop, Ava L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dauntless Publishing Inc.
Published: 2024-11-27T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Awareness returned in slow degrees. I was nearly deafened by my heartbeat, its heavy pulse rattling my rib cage. Other sounds returned gradually, and I could hear low voices speaking in calm tones. Apparently, no one was terribly interested or concerned about my situation.

That was a bad sign.

“You should have been more careful, Noah. There was no way to tell how the spell would have affected her. You could have killed her.” Low tones, subtle drawl, a voice like cold water. I couldn’t place it, though, and that bothered me.

Well, a lot of things bothered me, especially kidnapping and being spoken of like I wasn’t in the room.

I’d have to start a list.

My eyes felt gritty and swollen in their sockets. Prying them open would be a task. I wasn’t sure if it was better if they knew I was awake or not, but I really needed to figure out where I was.

There was a snort. I thought it sounded like a woman, and that suspicion was confirmed when she spoke in tones thick with disdain. “It’s already dead, Ethan.”

Now that was just plain insulting. I mean, sure, I’d died, but only for a little while. I was hardly a corpse. I forced my eyes open, blinking furiously at the light, fighting to keep my watery eyes from spilling, because I’d be damned before I let these assholes, whoever they were, think that they’d made me cry.

There were four people moving about in the room when I finally got my blurry eyes to focus. None of them really were paying attention to me, which was just rude. I ignored them in turn and saw to myself.

My wrists were strapped to the arms of the chair I was sitting in, and it felt like my ankles had gotten the same treatment underneath me, though I couldn’t get a good look at them. The chair was big and heavy, the arms made of cold metal. It was possible the entire chair was made of metal, which was alarming. It certainly was uncomfortable.

I felt as stiff and creaky as the corpse they’d accused me of being.

The cuffs holding my wrists to the chair were ivory and gleaming in the lamplight, carved with words I couldn’t read. It looked like bone, old and brittle, which made little sense. Who would tie up a person with bone? The stuff was crumbly and shattered easily. Though apparently not easily enough, as I didn’t have any luck in pulling my wrists or ankles free.

Okay, so being tied up in a room of unfriendly strangers wasn’t exactly comfortable, but the worst part by far was that I couldn’t seem to get a response from the Black Knight. I could still feel him, but he was hidden away like a sliver of ice tucked behind my rabbit-fast heartbeat. I had to fight not to jerk at my restraints, my breath coming harder.

Instead, I straightened my spine and tilted my chin up.

When in doubt, brazen it out.

“Hey, do you

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