Twice Tempted (Night Prince #2)(22)
Author: Jeaniene Frost

Every ten minutes, one of my captors would check in on me. I’d seen four different faces in addition to Hannibal’s, and from the paneled walls, queen-sized bed, curtained windows, and the size of the room, whoever hired them had deep pockets. If I weren’t trussed up to the handicapped railing, I’d have enjoyed traveling in such a nice vessel.

The only window had the drapes drawn, but from the lack of light peeking out, it was still night. Guess Hannibal had been telling the truth about me not being out that long. Lake Michigan was the closest large body of water to the hotel and it was larger than some seas, so it might be a while until we arrived at our destination. Or we might arrive in minutes.

That’s why I was concentrating, trying to channel all the currents in my body to my right hand. After several moments, the overload of electricity began to form into what felt like a spike. It pushed against my glove, seeking the smallest crack to free itself from its heavy rubberized cage.

No such crack existed, but my goal was to make one. Better to be killed trying to escape than meekly be delivered to whoever wanted me dead or alive. I should never have surrendered to Hannibal, but I hadn’t anticipated him knowing the full extent of my abilities, and Maximus’s life had been on the line.

He’s probably dead already, my nasty inner voice whispered. You gave yourself up for nothing!

My teeth ground together. How I hated the dark part of me that continually foretold failure or futility. It had driven me to a suicide attempt at sixteen, but it would not defeat me now. Dismal odds or no dismal odds, I was getting out of this.

I refocused on my right hand, willing more currents into it. If that spike of energy became sharp and strong enough, it would punch through the rubber and I would get free. Come on, I silently urged it. Drill, baby, drill!

Was it my imagination, or did the layer of rubber around that energy spike feel like it suddenly . . . dented?

My heart pounded, either from excitement or from being overly strained. I didn’t need a doctor to tell me that building up so much electricity was hazardous to my health, but I kept concentrating, willing those inner currents to grow and strengthen. Sweat beaded on my upper lip, my vision blurred, and my whole body started to tremble, yet I kept focusing –

White light briefly suffused the room and I heard a zzzt! right before an ominous cracking at my feet. I looked down, both elated and mildly terrified to see a small but distinct hole. Good news: I’d broken through my glove. Bad news: I might’ve punched a hole all the way through the boat’s hull, too.

I didn’t hear any footsteps, but I hadn’t expected any strange sounds to go uninvestigated. Seconds later when the guard with the thick beard and long black hair appeared in the doorway, I’d already covered the hole with my foot.

Of course, if that hole started spurting water, I was dead.

"You’ve got to let me out!" I improvised, banging against the pole and making more of a ruckus. "I, um, I have to pee!"

The guard, who I’d nicknamed Captain Morgan because of his looks, shook his head in disgust.

"Humans," he muttered. Then he disappeared.

I waited, breath sucked in, but he didn’t reappear and water didn’t start shooting up beneath my foot. Then I exhaled with relief and ruthless determination. Ten more minutes until the next guard checked in with me. In that time, I’d have to get free, and once I did, I’d have to kill them all.

Chapter 15

Thankfully, I got loose without punching more holes into the floor, but I barely made it to the blind spot behind the door before the next guard came to check on me. I cursed my heartbeat as I heard those light footsteps come nearer. Could the guard hear that I was no longer secured to the railing? If so, I was signing my own death warrant. Hannibal’s warning echoed through my thoughts. Dead is still a good payday for me . . .

Nerves and fear added to the electricity shooting into my hand, making a tiny shower of sparks rain from it. The air felt thicker and I caught a whiff of ozone. Then the guard paused at the doorway before rushing forward with a muttered "What?"

My wrist snapped, the currents arcing out as though they had a will of their own. The blond guard didn’t utter another word, but his mouth was still moving when his head hit the floor. The rest of him stayed upright for a few seconds, arms flailing as though he was trying to get his balance.

I was too worked up to be sickened. Fear-fueled adrenaline surged through me, acting like jumper cables to my currents. I peeked down the hallway, saw no one, and at once seized on a way to lure another guard in the room without arousing suspicion.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a shrill voice. "Stop! Get your filthy hands off me!"

I punctuated that by making a slapping sound and then crying out as though in pain. After that, I made ragged whimpering noises interspersed with cries of "Don’t, no, stop!"

Moments later, Hannibal muttered, "I told you not to damage the merchandise, Stephen. Fuck someone in the hold instead – "

My wrist snapped as soon as Hannibal crossed the threshold, but he took one look at the body and slammed the door back into me. The whiplike current sliced into his waist instead of his neck, but not deeply enough. He was still standing.

"Bitch," Hannibal snarled as something red hit the floor.

Part of me was screaming in disgusted horror, but survival instinct trumped everything else. Hannibal lunged at me and I whipped another sizzling current at him. It cut through his shoulder all the way down to his side, blanketing me in a veil of red as his momentum carried him into me.

I shoved him away. He fell, but the half of him that had a head kept flopping toward me. Only a few inches of flesh attached his left side to his torso, yet he still wasn’t dead?

"Bitch," he rasped.

My eyes bugged. He could talk, too?

I didn’t want to see what else Hannibal could do. Another burst of current turned him from a large Y shape into a dotted i, but I didn’t have time to breathe a sigh of relief. More footsteps sounded in the hallway.

"Not inviting me to the party?" an amused voice asked.

I didn’t wait for him to see that the "party" had taken a lethal turn. As soon as those footsteps got close, I whipped a bolt into the hallway, hitting the Captain Morgan look-alike. He stared at me with the oddest expression on his face. Then everything north of his jaw slid off, hitting the floor with a thud that was echoed by his body moments later.

"What the f**k."

A fresh surge of adrenaline shot through me. The fourth guard stared at the remains of Captain Morgan with disbelief. Then he disappeared up the stairs with vampiric speed.

I ran after him, desperation or overexertion making my heart feel like it would burst. The vampire was already at the controls, punching a button as he glanced back at me –