Blood of the Wicked by Karina Cooper Read Free Book Online Page A

her tongue in mutinous silence as he pushed her into the elevator. Didn’t look at him once as she shivered and dripped all over the scuffed floor. She hoped he felt guilty, the miserable son of a bitch.
    She hoped he dreamed about the way her body had curved into his.
    A flush of embarrassment, of stubborn arousal, clashed with the bitter cold of processed air wafting over her soaked clothing.
    “For what it’s worth,” he finally said as he thumbed the lock open, “I’m sorry about this.”
    “Yeah, I’m s-sure you are,” she muttered, teeth gritted tightly to keep them from chattering.
    In her peripheral vision, she saw his jaw shift. It worked silently as if he had something to say, but instead he just splayed a hand across her lower back and guided her to the bedroom.
    He didn’t push. She was grateful for small favors.
    Her body hurt like hell.
    Shaking back her hair, she stepped again into the plain, cramped bedroom she’d just vacated and tried not to look at the open window. The sheet lay in a sodden pile, and Silas kicked it aside.
    She could climb right back out it again.
    “Sit,” Silas ordered. He caught her shoulder, forced her to the floor.
    The first vestiges of trepidation fluttered in her stomach. “You aren’t—”
    “Shut up.”
    She did, because she was all too aware of how much man had been packed into the lean frame looming over her. She was all too familiar with the muscle and the speed and the sheer animal grace of him, mere feet from where she stared up at him from the floor.
    He wouldn’t kiss her again. He wouldn’t try to hurt her.
    Would he?
    Jessie bit her lip. Bit it harder when his hands moved to his belt and undid it with a snap of metal and nylon. It hissed free of the denim loops holding it in place. Her gaze leaped to his implacable face, the hard, angry pinch at his eyes.
    Fear skittered through her mind. Was he—?
    Was this her punishment? Oh, God, was he going to—
    “I know you’ll run,” he said. He knelt behind her. She tensed, flinched when his fingers grazed her arms. Metal clicked as he unhooked the cuffs, but he caught her wrists before she could do more than flex in surprise. “I’m doing my damnedest not to treat you like a fugitive, here. Do us both a favor and just stay put.”
    “Yeah, well your hospitality sucks.” Jessie held her breath as the callused edge of his fingers rasped against her skin as he knotted the belt around her hands. Then he hooked the other end to the heater behind her. “And this isn’t the warmest— Ouch!” The lead snapped taut behind her as she twisted.
    Silas stood again, feature implacable. “You’ve got enough lead to lay down and the belt won’t dig in as much as the cuffs will.” His mouth twisted. “Believe me, I know. So just get some sleep.”
    Relief that all he’d done was tie her up suddenly shattered into simmering fury. She pressed her fingers together tightly, twisted them hard. God, she hated witch hunters.
    Jessie didn’t dare move. Her heart pounded so loudly that she was sure he heard it as he turned and left the room. The door shut hard behind him.
    She counted to ten, taking a slow breath between each number. The metal heater behind her pinged twice, groaned, and spit out air only a little warmer than room temperature. Still, she was grateful as it seeped into her wet clothes. Slowly, so slowly that she was sure she’d go crazy from the effort, she tugged at her wrists.
    They snagged on nylon. Twisted tautly. The bastard knew knots. She pulled, writhed, until her skin burned with effort.
    “Goddamn it,” she whispered, and sank back against the warmed metal. Her vision blurred behind a press of hot, angry tears, but Jessie blinked them roughly away.
    She couldn’t afford to cry, not right now. Once she got free, once she found Caleb and pulled him out of whatever mess he’d landed in, she’d give in and have a good long wailing session.
    She exhaled loudly.
    Closing her eyes, she tried