"We will hold the rope as we cross. The weather will change drastically and the winds will be strong. The rope will secure us and we'll be able to stay together."
"Why can't we just fly or transport over?" I asked.
"Because that would be too easy," Ethan said, still coughing from the green shit we drank. "Nothing the Fairies do is simple. You will walk between The Kev and me. Hold tight to the rope and we'll be fine."
"Ready?" The Kev asked, looking more unsure than I'd ever seen him look. Ethan wasn't much better. My stomach churned from the green crap and everyone's fear for my existence. I knew I wasn't going to die, but a little voice in the back of my brain kept telling me there were far worse things than death.
"I'm ready," I said as I planted a big one on my mate and grabbed the rope. "Is Xanthia on the other side of the bridge?"
"No. We have a half day's journey once we reach the other side," The Kev said as he secured his pack and stared off into the horizon. "There's a cottage I know of that's safe. We will spend the night there and approach Xanthia in the morning. I have allies who will meet up with us tomorrow."
"You have allies on the Dark side?" Ethan asked as his eyes narrowed.
The Kev shrugged and grinned. "Just remember—looks are very deceiving. Let's go."
"I've been to Hell and back. How much worse can this be?" I wondered aloud as I grabbed the rope.
"You have no idea," I heard The Kev mutter under his breath.
The wind whipped up violently and I grasped the rope tighter in my hands. I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer to my relatives that I wouldn't be blown off the bridge. I had the most important mission of my life and no wind was going to stop me. However, the flock of frightened birds flying at my head might have a shot.
"Astrid, duck!" Ethan shouted as the flying menaces dive-bombed us.
I shifted and dropped, but I was a second too late. Colored feathers blinded me and the world went black.
***
What the heck? Was I blind or had someone super-glued my eyes shut? Why would someone do that? My body ached like I'd been in a fight with a freakin' brick wall and my head was pounding like a motherhumper. Where was I? Wait…who was I? Shoot, this was bad. I know I'm a girl and I think I have brown hair. Oh my goodness, was I in an accident? Do I have amnesia? Why are my eyes stuck shut?
"Is she awake?" a worried male voice asked.
"No, not yet," another answered. "But at least she's alive."
"Alive as a dead person can be." The first one chuckled and the second one joined him.
"She's definitely hard to kill."
"Thank God for that."
"Do you need blood?"
"No, I can wait until she wakes up."
Um…what kind of conversation was that? What does someone need blood for? Some kind of sicko ritual? Was I going to be sacrificed? God, I had to stop drinking hard liquor. Thankfully, I heard them leave the room. Where was I? And who were they?
Think. Think. Think.
I'm hard to kill…they called me a dead person…and they wanted my blood. Buttholes, these kidnappers were definitely going to kill me.
Clearly they'd already tried, but I must have fought back—good for me. Why in the poop were they happy I was difficult to kill? Were they sadists?
Crapcrapcrappycrap. This was bad.
I'd stay as quiet as a mouse and wait the murdering jerks out. They seemed hesitant to finish the job while I was passed out. That was psychotic. Surely they'd have to use the facilities or go get some food…then I'd escape. Yep, I'd escape or I could kill them and then escape.
Whoa, where the heck did that come from? I can't kill anyone. That was wrong and illegal and would make me no better than the horrible men who'd kidnapped me and tried to murder me. Plus, I seemed to be severely hung over.
How does this always happen to me? Wait…has this ever happened to me? I don't even know who "me" is.
Poop on a stick, I need to think…name. What's my name? Why don't I know my name?
"She's moving," the one with a voice like silk said. He had an exceptionally sexy voice for a serial killer. "Astrid? Can you hear me?"
Astrid? My name is Astrid? That doesn't sound right at all. Maybe they kidnapped the wrong girl. If I could just move my lips and open my dang eyes, I could tell them and then I could go home to, um…wherever I lived.
Hmmm…I wonder if they'll tell me where they abducted me from. Is that a weird question to ask? Probably. I suppose I could just find a policeman and ask him to take my fingerprints to figure out my identity.
Slowly I opened one eye and shut it immediately. Who knew serial killers were so freakin' hot? This was so unfair. The best looking man and the second best looking man I'd ever seen were staring at me. Did they want me to be conscious for my death?
"Astrid, I saw you," the sexiest one said with amusement in his voice.
These dudes were pure evil. What was this? Be nice to the victim before you axe murder her? Awesome. It would figure I wanted to have intercourse with the instrument of my death. Well, not both of them, only the one who smelled so good and was invading my personal space…Balls.
If I was going to die I was not going to go quietly. Summoning what little strength I had I sat up and scooted away from the killers.
"Stay back," I hissed as I crawled towards what I hoped was a door. My vision was still a little fuzzy.