Arcane Awakenings Books Five and Six

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I came to, gasping in air as the memory of being strangled hit.

I froze, hands halfway to my neck, and gaped at my surroundings. I was sitting in the middle of a huge four poster bed, purple velvet curtains trimmed in gold pulled back and tied to each post. Gauzy curtains were down, obscuring my view of the rest of the room, but what I could see was just as unfamiliar as the bed.

Where the hell was I?

Heart pounding, breathing hard and fast, I thrust the curtain aside and climbed off the bed, head swivelling to take everything in as my feet sank into plush carpet. I ran my hands over my body, some of my panic easing at the discovery I was still wearing my pyjamas. I was also sporting a number of aches and pains. However I’d got here, it had left bruises. The worst was my throat. It hurt both inside and out from what my attacker had done to me. All without touching me.

I sucked in a ragged breath, wincing as it burned on the way down. Whoever he was, he had psychic abilities like Belinda, who had been kidnapped twice because of it.

Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach at the thought the man who had kidnapped me could be working for Dr Frankel. Belinda had said he had a young guy working for him who could also see future events. I had only caught a brief glimpse of the man who attacked me, but he had to be in his mid-forties at least. So he couldn’t be the same guy who had been after Belinda.

Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t working for Dr Frankel.

But, if that was the case, what did he want with me? I didn’t have psychic abilities.

Unless… He’d thought I was Belinda?

Relief swamped me, to be swiftly followed by horror.

This new guy must have got me mixed up with her.

I had to get out of there. Had to warn Belinda that Frankel was after her again.

I spotted a door on the other side of the room and ran toward it, feet making no sound in the thick grey carpet. I wrenched open the door and my eyes widened. It was a huge walk in wardrobe with one side filled with white dresses with long flowing sleeves. Hanging alongside the dresses were a number of dark purple velvet robes with gold trim around the collar and hem. On the floor below them sat ballet flats, the same colour as the robes, in various sizes.

On the other side of the wardrobe were more robes and shoes, in larger sizes, and what looked like white pants and tunic styled tops. Definitely men’s clothing.

At the end of the wardrobe I could see a sliding door that was partially ajar, letting me glimpse white tiles and a basin. I stepped closer and slid the door fully open, finding a luxurious bathroom with a huge clawfoot tub sitting in pride of place, a glass walled shower cubicle and a toilet partially hidden behind a partition.

Head buzzing with everything I’d found, I headed back to the bedroom in search of a way out. My breathing was shallow, fast, and I fought to calm myself as I scanned the large room. There were no windows, the only light coming from bulbs set in heavy brass sconces on the walls.

There was another door on the opposite side of the room and I ran over to it, cursing when I found it was locked from the outside. There was no way out. I was stuck, at least until whoever kidnapped me came back and I could tell them they’d made a mistake.

But what would they do, once they realised I wasn’t Belinda?

There was a spacious sitting area opposite the door, with a grey couch pushed against the wall and a dark mahogany coffee table in front of it. I shuffled over to the couch and sat down to watch the door, both willing it to open and dreading what would happen when it did. My gaze skimmed the objects on the coffee table, noting a tray in the middle with a water jug and two glasses set out on it. But it was the folded piece of paper in front of it that caught my attention.

The side facing me had a name written in neat handwriting on it.

My name.

Hands shaking, I picked up the piece of paper and unfolded it, staring in horror at the words written inside.

Clothes have been provided for you. Ensure you are dressed and ready for inspection when I return. Do not disappoint me. It will not end well for you should you choose not to do as I have requested.

I scrunched up the note and threw it on the ground, using anger to push back the panic threatening to overwhelm me.

Who the hell did he think he was?

There was no way I was putting on any of the clothes he’d provided for me.

No way.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the door, waiting for him to show his face so I could blast him, trying not to think about the fact it was my name on the piece of paper, or that I was sitting in what could be termed a luxurious jail cell; one that contained clothes for a man as well as a woman.

He hadn’t thought I was Belinda. He’d known who he was k********g.

But that made even less sense.

I sat there for half an hour at least, unable to gauge the time without a watch or clock. Eventually my bladder demanded I move. When I came out of the bathroom, drying my hands on my pyjama pants as I walked back to the couch, I froze halfway there.

The door was opening.

I raced across the room, ready to escape this bizarre prison, only to screech to a halt when a figure dressed in white pants and a tunic top the same as what was hanging in the wardrobe entered the room. He slammed the door closed behind him, blocking it with his body.

Tall, with brown hair lightly tipped with grey, I wouldn’t have given him a second glance if I passed him in the street, except for the forbidding look in his hazel eyes as he glared at me. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the man who’d attacked me in my own backyard.

‘I told you to get dressed,’ he said, anger filling his voice.

I tossed my hair over my shoulder and glared at him. ‘Who the hell are you? Why have you brought me here?’

He waved his hand and I was pushed backward, legs scrambling to keep me upright. After a few steps the backs of my knees rammed into the coffee table. I sank down onto it, head reeling as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and stood there staring at me.

‘Get dressed,’ he said.

Stamping down hard on my fear, I got to my feet, fists clenched at my sides, hoping he couldn't tell how much I was shaking. He’d pushed me back, without touching me. Just as he had practically strangled me the night before. As much as I hated to give in, I turned my back on him and hurried into the wardrobe, rummaging through the clothes on the left-hand side for a dress that was my size. I found a selection of white underwear on a shelf and hurriedly found some that would fit. Then I headed into the bathroom to change.

The bodice of the dress hugged my torso while the full skirt fell to the floor, swirling around my feet with each movement. There was a large mirror above the vanity and I stared at my reflection, not comfortable with the way the scooped neckline showed off my cleavage, or how the white of the dress contrasted with my tanned skin and long black hair. Hair that was a tangled mess.

To delay the moment when I would have to face my kidnapper again, I hunted for a brush in the vanity drawers, and for something to tie my hair back with. Hands shaking, I found a brush, an unopened tube of toothpaste and a two pack of toothbrushes. I freshened up, but with no hair ties or pins I had to leave my hair down.

After one last glance in the mirror, sure the panic threatening to overwhelm me was visible in my grey eyes, I took a deep breath and left the false security of the bathroom. It was time to get answers.

The man who’d kidnapped me stood in the same position as when I’d left, and he gave an approving nod when he saw me.

‘Much better. Now you look the part. Although, when you leave this room you will wear the robe, and the matching shoes. You are not to appear in public without them.’

A shiver swept over me at his words about looking the part, legs threatening to fold beneath me. Had he brought me here to live out some sick fantasy of his?

I stiffened my spine, determined not to let him see how scared I was. ‘What do you want with me?’ My voice shook despite my effort to keep it steady.

‘There’s no need to be afraid, Grace. In time you will come to appreciate all that I offer you.’

‘You haven’t offered me anything. You kidnapped me.’ My hands went to my throat, vividly remembering how it felt to be strangled with ghostly fingers, to be pushed backward by a wave of his hand.

‘My name is Mark Davidson, and I apologise if my initial approach frightened you, but I couldn’t take the risk you would choose not to become part of the Order.’

’The Order?’

‘The Order of the Arcane. An organisation formed to protect people like you and me. Recent events in the world beyond this sanctuary have proved those of us with psychic abilities have become targets. The Order seeks to prevent that happening, which is where you come in. You, and Liam Devine, will become the face of the Order.’

I flung up my head, eyes wide. ‘What did you just say?’

‘It’s time those who would use our abilities for their own gain learn that we are the superior race. We are the ones who should be in charge. Once Liam arrives, we will begin our campaign to wrest control of the country from those who do not deserve to lead. The two of you will be our figureheads, the ones the public will come to revere and worship.’

I gulped down bile.

Belinda’s vision of Liam and me, hand in hand, wearing purple robes while people dressed in white knelt before us.

Oh. My. Freaking. God.

‘You’re insane. I’m not going to be a figurehead for some lame religion.’ Shaking my head, I backed away from him. This could not be happening.

‘It will happen. The seers have had visions of it. You will be the Goddess to Liam’s God. Together you and he will lead our Order to greatness.’

My body shook, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or shock. ‘I’m telling you, your seers are wrong. I don’t have a psychic ability. I’m just an ordinary girl.’

Mark clearly thought Liam Devine also had an ability, which had to be crazy. He was an actor. Former actor. But then, Belinda had been normal until her car accident. A lump appeared in my throat at the thought a new-found ability could explain Liam’s decision to quit acting and become a recluse.

‘Impossible. I saw you, at the video store, communicating silently with your cousin,’ said Mark, brow creasing.

Eyes wide, I pushed back the realisation that he’d been watching us. ‘We’ve been best friends as well as cousins our whole lives. We know each other so well we can hold entire conversations without words, but I’m not telepathic.’

He stepped closer and I tried to dodge, but he froze me in place with a wave of his hand. Body rigid, unable to move, tears of frustration leaked from my eyes as he grabbed hold of my head, his gaze boring into mine.

After a tense moment he let go and stepped back, shaking his head. ‘I knew I should have stuck to the original plan and taken your cousin. But after I heard her recount her vision to you, I changed my mind. She is, by all reports, a very powerful seer. Taking her vision into account, I acted accordingly.’

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Then it hit. He’d intended to kidnap Belinda, but her vision had made him change his mind and take me instead.

Cold sweat enveloped my body.

He wasn’t going to let me go.

Unless I could convince him he was wrong.

Even if I was successful in escaping, he might go after Belinda. She’d been his original target. She’d been through so much, terrified she was going to lose her eyes when Dr Frankel had her. I would not let Mark Davidson hurt her.

But how was I going to stop him?