Heart Of A Highland Warrior
I’ve got the key.”
    “What is he? A ghost—dammit. What’s she doing here?” The fat guard had caught sight of Anna. “What the hell’s going on?”
    “I did put her here,” the skinny guard said. “I had to lock her up quick, and I only had this cell key. The hybrid must have brought him later.”
    The fat guard cursed. “We don’t have time to move them both. We have to find that damned hybrid. Put one of them in the next cell.”
    “She’s conscious,” the skinny guard said. “I’ll move her.”
    “I’m surprised she’s alive, as hard as you hit her. And just as she was starting to talk. I think you are hiding something, Lance.”
    “She was getting ready to attack. I saw her muscles tense.” Lance, the skinny guard, opened the cell and pointed his gun at her. “Get out here.”
    Anna walked to the cell door. Lance’s eyes were filled with hatred. He was hiding something from the other guard, and she ’d outed him. As soon as he found the right moment, she knew she ’d be dead. “What are you?” she asked. “Vampire? Demon?”
    Fear and hatred flashed in his eyes, and he opened the door to the adjoining cell. “Get inside.”
    As Anna entered, she glanced back at the man lying on the floor in the other cell.
    Lance slammed the door. “What are we going to do with her, Bart?”
    “We’ll have to deal with her in the morning,” the fat guard said. “Let’s find the hybrid.”
    “I don’t know why they don’t just destroy him since we have the new specimen.”
    “The master wants to make sure this one works out first,” Bart said. “Let’s go deal with this mess.”
    “You gonna leave him unchained?” Lance asked, nodding toward the other cell.
    “He’s no threat in that condition,” Bart said. “And I drugged him earlier. I’ll chain him in the morning.”
    She ’d beaten up a tortured, drugged man. Hell, what a night. She waited until the footsteps faded and then walked to the bars between their cells. The dungeon was still relatively dark, even with the sconce, and she couldn’t see the man clearly. She could only assume he was alive. “Hey,” she whispered. “Can you hear me?”
    His fingers twitched, and he tried to move but collapsed to the floor again. His hair still covered part of his face, and he wore a beard. From what she could see, his eye and cheek were swollen and streaked with blood. Like Angus’s.
    “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
    He rolled slightly, and his hair fell back from his face.
    Anna’s breath caught. “Faelan.”

CHAPTER THREE

    A NNA PRESSED CLOSER to the bars. It couldn’t be Faelan, could it? She ’d just talked to Ronan. He said Faelan and Bree should be home soon. Unless they had been captured in the last few hours. Could he be Duncan? He and Faelan looked enough like to be brothers. No, this man had a beard. Faelan and Duncan had both been clean-shaven in Virginia. But that was a few days ago.
    She studied him a minute longer, the length of his hair, the shape of his head. Definitely not Duncan. But she couldn’t be sure this wasn’t Faelan. Whoever he was, he needed help.
    “Can you move closer?” Anna asked. All warriors had basic medical training. She didn’t know what she could do with these bars between them, but she had to try.
    He must have heard her because he started sliding closer. It was slow, and she cringed as he groaned in pain.
    “What’s your name?” she asked.
    His eyes opened, and Anna saw a flare of recognition before they closed again. Was it him? Good God. The clan must not know, or this place would be surrounded by warriors. And Bree would fight the Dark One himself to free Faelan. Anna reached through the bars and touched his hand. A jolt ran up her arm. Blimey. What was that? She ’d touched Faelan dozens of times sparring with him. He ’d beaten her every time, but he ’d never shocked her.
    She checked his hand. No wedding ring, but he did have a broken finger.

Similar Books

Backdraft

Cher Carson

Rondo Allegro

Sherwood Smith

Dying on the Vine

Aaron Elkins

Muffin Tin Chef

Matt Kadey

The Bullet

Mary Louise Kelly

Blubber

Judy Blume

Hitler

Joachim C. Fest