Silently Hunted

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Anya’s head was pounding as she opened her eyes sometime later. She had no idea how long she had been out. The last thing she remembered was the way her brain seemed to close down in a gentle cascade as the scent of smoke filled her nostrils. She had a hazy remembrance of being shocked by the thought of the Shadow Hunter touching her gently as he cradled her in his arms. Actually, if she thought about it, it was when he was touching her that she felt the haze fall over her.

But there had been a fire, she was sure of it. Though were, or if it had been on her journey wherever she now was that she had smelt it, the smoke seemed to be stuck in the back of her throat. Along with the lingering taste of the last blood she had tasted.

That was strange she didn’t think she had managed to drink from somebody yet? And it came back to her in one large slam in her mind. She could not believe the euphoria she had felt at the taste of the last of Zofeia’s life. The life that had ended because she had been nice to her. She couldn’t stand it, how could she have accepted that?

Taking a look around the room she was in, she was surprised to find it was quite a comfortable room. If you took out the fact she was chained by her right wrist to a bed post. Charming way to treat a house guest. She would have to be sure to tell him that. She nearly chuckled at the thought, but instead ended up rolling to her side as a coughing fit racked her body.

As she spit out the viscous substance that had entered her mouth onto the floor beneath the bed she was on, she noticed it was tinged black. It confirmed she had been extremely close to a powerful fire. The type that would consume all in its path. What confused her was that she had still woken up, when she knew he could have easily have thrown her into that fire.

Yet here she was, on a soft bed, in a larger room than the one she had called home. She was on top of the duvet. And realised that was probably due to the state of her smoke smudged clothing. At least he hadn’t stripped her while she was helpless. Not that she was not helpless now, but at least she was conscious, if chained. Testing her injuries, she found her wrist as a clean break was in the final stages of healing. It still gave a twinge with movement though it was usable if she gritted through the throbbing.

Her leg, however, was a completely different scenario altogether. With the coughing it had shifted sending pain through her body. She had resettled on her back, and it still lay slightly twisted. It was taking painstaking energy to knit together the bone he had crushed down to powder. It would be a long while now before she could walk on it again. Plus, if she did not get more blood soon, her body would start taking the energy directly from her soul source. If her aura started to dim then she was in serious trouble. Yet again, not that she was not already.