Queen of Nothing

22. Queen of Hostage Negotiation

I came to slowly. My eyelids fluttered open to reveal darkness. Several groggy seconds later I realized that I was blindfolded. I sat in a cold metal folding chair, my hands secured behind me with plastic cable ties.

What happened? Where was I? Why was I restrained? I tried to recall the events of the night. Tristan and I went to a restaurant in Baton Rouge. Then Alexis came and... said something I couldn't recall. My mind was still hazy.

I tried to move my legs. A fiery pain shot up my right ankle and I gasped. That's right, I twisted it while running away. Our car had its tires blown out. Some men had set a trap for us and we ran into the woods. JC's men. JC had a gun. He... Oh shit.

"Where is he?" I yelled as the memories came flooding back. Tristan had been shot in the back. The bullet had missed me by inches. He'd fallen, and then JC's men were upon us. My neck throbbed with pain as I remember being injected with something.

I heard footsteps bounding down a set of stairs. Metal ones, from the sound of it. Then I heard the unmistakable scuffing of boots on concrete. There was a faint echo, which meant the premises had to be either large or empty of furnishings.

"So, she's awake," came the voice of JC. The sound of it made me seethe.

"Where's Tristan?" I demanded again. If he was dead, I... I wouldn't know what to do. If JC had no qualms of killing the king's adoptive son, he'd have even fewer qualms about killing me.

My captor circled me. "He'll be fine. I gave him vampire blood and a sedative. You on the other hand..."

His cold fingers brushed against my shoulder and I shivered, flinching away from his touch. JC snickered, and his hand came up to clench my throat. Tristan's alive, I tried to console myself in that dreadful moment. Tristan's alive and he'll be fine.

"What are you going to do to me?" I dared ask, even though a dozen scenarios had run through my head already, none of them good. A swift death would be the best case scenario, but I was dealing with JC Sinclair. There was no way he'd be so kind, or I so lucky.

JC's hand lifted from my throat. He stepped back and I heard the scraping of metal against concrete as he unfolded another chair and plonked it down in front of me. "That depends on you," he said, sounding eerily calm. I could almost picture the shit-eating grin on his smug face. "If you're good, I won't make it hurt. Much."

I grit my teeth, lip curling in disgust. My reaction must have amused JC, because he cackled. Actually cackled, the son of a bitch.

"You can't get away with this," I argued. "I come from the wealthiest family in the entire Northeastern Territories. My godfather is the Duke of Virginia. They'll tear this country apart looking for me. Are you really stupid enough to risk that all for your little revenge scheme?"

JC let out a light chuckle that was void of any actual mirth. "Probably. But that's not for me to worry about."

I sat back, stunned. Was he really that stupid? That crazy? "Are you kidding? You think you'll just get away with causing a major international incident? You can't hide behind your dad forever, you dumb fuck, and King Sheridan—"

JC's hand came up to strike my face. The blow was so hard, I almost fell backwards. Pain radiated through my cheek. I gasped, frozen in a permanent recoil as I expected another blow. It didn't come. Instead, JC grabbed me by the throat once more, only this time he squeezed so tightly, I could barely breathe.

"Listen here, you stupid bitch," he said, his hot breath stinging the side of my face. "I'm doing this with King Sheridan's blessing. Whatever international scandal this will cause, he'll take care of it. My job was simply to capture you."