Ten Thousand Skies Above You by Claudia Gray

Author:Claudia Gray
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-08-26T16:00:00+00:00

16

APPARENTLY THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME THESE GUYS HAVE kept a prisoner. Leonid’s men prepare for my captivity swiftly and efficiently.

The bag goes back over my head before the duct tape is cut. They get rid of the zip tie around my ankles—blood rushes into my cold, tingling feet—but the one around my wrists remains. The large hand that closes around my arm doesn’t belong to Paul; I know from the way the fingers dig cruelly into my flesh, even through my thick wool sweater. Many footsteps follow and surround me, a dull ominous cloud of sound. The loudest thing I hear is my own ragged breathing within the bag. My half-numb legs make me clumsy as I walk along some corridors, turning that way and this, until someone jerks me to a halt and growls, “Down the stairs.”

I reach forward with one leg and feel the first step—then almost lose my balance and fall. One of the men near me laughs at my uncertainty, and rage swells inside so hot my temples throb. It’s almost enough to turn me stupid, to make me start screaming at him. You think it’s so funny? I’m scared to death and I can’t see where I’m going and you’re trying to push me down a flight of stairs and if I ever get my hands free—

But I remember the guns, and say nothing.

A gentler hand cups my shoulder. “Here,” Paul murmurs. “I’ll walk you down.”

I lean on him the entire way, as I feel each step with my toes. The space where they’re putting me is so damp I already feel clammy. Cold, too. I remain aware of the warmth of Paul’s body near mine.

When I finally stand on a level floor, the door above us swings shut; several locks turn and click, sealing Paul and me within. One tug, and Paul lifts the bag away from my head. This room is smaller than the one I was originally held in, and quieter, too, farther from any sounds of the city above. More light shines from the few bulbs on the low ceiling, though, and the floor lacks a drain. Of the two rooms, I definitely prefer this one.

In one corner I see a cot with a blanket; in another, a bucket with a lid. Normally the thought of peeing in a bucket would gross me out, but I’ve been on the verge of wetting myself since the first moment I was grabbed on the street. By now the bucket looks pretty good.

Paul says, “We’ll bring you some food soon. A few bottles of water. The blanket should keep you warm, but if you need another, tell whoever comes in here.”

“You. I want it to be you.”

Different emotions flicker across his face—surprise, confusion, even some pleasure at being chosen. He says only, “Why me?”

Because I have to get close to you if I’m going to have any chance of rescuing my Paul’s soul. Fortunately I have other reasons, ones I can say out loud.

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