Muckrakers & Minotaurs by Rebecca Chastain

Author:Rebecca Chastain [Chastain, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mind Your Muse Books

14

“Where is it?” a man hissed.

“How am I supposed to know? It’s too dark to see my own cock,” grumbled a deeper voice.

“It would take a bonfire to find your tiny dick,” a third chimed in.

“At least I could power a bonfire. You’re lucky to light a torch.”

My head lolled against a cloth that stank of mildew and sweat. My heartbeat pounded in my temples. Blinking took effort, and when I managed to pry my eyes open, I still couldn’t see. Panic dripped through my veins, increasing with each heartbeat. I tried to recall where I was, but shadows shrouded my thoughts.

“It’s not the size of the magic; it’s how you wield it.”

“What would you know—”

“Enough. Drop her here.”

My skin chilled at the familiar raspy voice. The world tilted, and I slammed onto my side. My head cracked against the hard surface. Dizzy and disoriented, I reached for the elements. Magic surrounded me. I could feel it. I could see the protective spell I wanted to build. But no matter how hard I strained, the elements remained a hairsbreadth out of reach.

The toe of a boot shoved against my hip, and I flopped helplessly onto my back. A ping of alarm burst through the fog miring my thoughts, but it took my brain several seconds longer to process my body’s reaction.

Nothing had pinched my skin as I rolled. Nothing pressed against my flesh beneath the hem on my pants.

Grant’s badge was missing.

The tracking spell embedded in it wasn’t going to help me.

My breaths caught in my throat, oxygen failing to reach my lungs. Revulsion chased fear, crawling like a spider down my spine. One of these men had pawed beneath my clothes while I had been unconscious. What else had they done?

A man’s voice rumbled nearby, but it sounded as if he was speaking into a megaphone stuffed with linen. I fought to focus, but my awareness spiraled inward and winked out.

“Wrap it up, Eugene,” Raspy Voice commanded, jolting me back to consciousness an indeterminate time later.

My eyes snapped open. A burly man stood at my feet, facing away from me, lit by a minuscule glowball hardly larger than a marble. Other figures darted in the shadows beyond him.

“Rumy, where are we—”

“Shit, she’s waking.”

I startled at the voice that spoke next to my head. A pimply teen stood above me, peering down at me with wide eyes. I lolled my head to the side, scanning the surroundings. Misshapen shadows loomed on either side, blocky and unnatural. The last thing I remembered was stepping out of Airstrong’s warehouse, and then—

I had been kidnapped.

I yanked at the elements and willed my body to bolt. I managed a feeble wave of my hand, lassitude weighting my muscles, magic just out of reach.

“What should I do?” the teen asked, his voice cracking.

“Dose her. We’re almost—”

Voices shouted in the distance. Someone shrieked. Footsteps pounded close, and a person skidded to a stop just out of sight. “A basilisk escaped! I had it tied up, hooded, you know? But I went back.

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