Consciousness came just as slowly as it had when I woke up in the cell- but this time, I found myself wondering with groggy uncertainty if the binding had done more than knock me out. If I were still alive, I would be in pain; shackled, thrown back in a cell until I was used or sold. I would be lying on cold hard stone again- not on soft cushioning, with something warm but firm under my head.

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, flexing my wrists to find I was no longer restrained. My fingers curled in toward my palms, my throat tight as I tried to control my breathing. It was safer to pretend to be asleep until I could make sense of my new surroundings.

As my head began to clear, I was able to make out more of the world around me. Stretching out my leg slightly- a small enough movement to be mistaken for a shift in my sleep- I encountered a firm barrier quickly. My pants slid against smooth fabric; I could feel leather, cool against my skin, through the tears from the cell’s stone floor.

My brow furrowed slightly as I pieced that information together with the faint vibration through the cushions beneath me. The purr of a car’s engine was very quiet, barely audible, meaning we were in a vehicle that was high quality. It rocked slightly, and I could hear the telltale sound of the world passing by outside the car in a dull hum.

Knowing where I was didn’t help me this time. I had no idea where they were taking me, only that I had no chance of escape… unless I wanted to throw myself out of a moving vehicle. My body tensed slightly as I considered it, wondering if it was better to risk injury- even death- rather than submitting myself to the hands of the alchemist that had marked me.

A low chuckle shocked me out of my racing thoughts, my heart leaping into my throat. “Whatever you’re planning, I’d recommend you rethink it.” Ian’s voice was low and rich, rumbling from just over my head. Shock and confusion filled me as the surface under my head shifted slightly, and I realized with horror that I must be resting in the man’s lap.

A strangled sound filled my throat, hands gripping the leather seat as I tried to sit up; Ian’s hand cupped the side of my head, pulling my back down against his thighs with a firm pressure. I froze, the soft, fine fabric of Ian’s expensive suit pressed to my cheek. I was used to alchemists having the frames of scholars- thin and wiry, made for studies and laboratories- but Ian’s legs were firm and muscular as he held me in place.

“Done pretending you’re asleep, pet?” Amusement filled his tone, Ian’s grip easing so that his fingers could slip into my hair. The sensation of his touch over my scalp made me shiver, unease crawling down my spine in a cold chill.

He let me turn my head, looking up with narrowed eyes; at the corner of my vision I could see my hair twisted through his fingers, black strands like soot against his pale skin. “Let me go,” I hissed, my fingers curling against the leather of the seat.

Ian kissed his teeth, coiling my hair around his hand and giving a light tug as he murmured, “Stay.”

I stiffened, a flicker of something long buried and suppressed making my pulse uneven. Gritting my teeth, I forced my hand to relax; continuing to fight would only put me in an even more compromising position. 

“Good boy.” Ian’s grip relaxed, his hand smoothing over my hair, and my stomach flipped at the gentle gesture.

Shuddering, I turned up the heat of my glare. Seeing him from this close, he looked less impressive and flawless than he had in the auction house; there were dark circles under Ian’s pale periwinkle eyes, his silvery-blue hair ruffled around his face. Faint bruises showed just above his collar, my brow furrowed as I traced the yellowing lines of fingers pressed into his flesh. I jolted slightly when I met his eyes, realizing he had been studying me just as intently.

Grunting, I turned my head to the side, focusing my stare on the partition between where we were seated and the front of the car. Dark glass kept me from seeing more of the driver than a faint, foggy figure, and I couldn’t get a good look out the side windows from my position in Ian’s lap. “Where are you taking me?”

Ian’s fingers paused in their stroking motion, a quiet chuckle leaving him. “That’s your first question? Not why I bought you, or what I want from you, or how I knew who you are… just where we’re going?”

I bristled at his mocking tone, resisting the urge to glare up at him again.

In my silence, Ian provided the answer. “We’re returning to the Hedquist manor.”

My blood ran cold, every instinct in me screaming at me to run away. I had succeeded in that for years; knowing now I was being brought to the very center of enemy territory made me feel helpless and damned. “What… what are you going to do to me?” I could only manage a raspy whisper, my throat tight and aching.

He was quiet, and my mind spun answers of its own- recalling the man who had spoken to me in the cell, his face wrapped in bandages because his eyes were worth more money on their own. Would I end up like the woman next to him, sick and dying and tossed aside because it was too inconvenient to offer treatment? My stomach churned, because I knew there were worse things than death… but the thought of being abandoned like that filled me with cold dread.

“Don’t worry, I don’t intend to hurt you.” Ian’s cold tones were less than reassuring, logical in a clinical way that felt chilling and impersonal. “If I did, I wouldn’t have purchased you in the first place- and I certainly wouldn’t have risked this kind of irreversible binding in such a filthy place.” His fingertips brushed over my throat, and I could feel the faint roughness from where he had cut himself. When I swallowed, it moved his fingers, slipping them further down my neck. Ian’s voice warmed, only slightly, as he murmured, “I’ve been looking for you too long to ruin things now that I’ve come this far.”

“You’ve been… looking for me?” My fear infected my voice, keenly aware of his hand over my throat- knowing how easy it would be for him to change his mind. If he wasn’t lying, if he really knew who I was, he had no reason to keep me alive. Turning my corpse over to his family would get him enough of a reward with far less trouble. 

Ian chuckled again, deep and smooth. “Bet you thought you were thoroughly hiding your tracks. Unfortunately for you, I’m smarter than you, and it was only a matter of time before I had my hands on you.” He paused, seeming slightly regretful as he said, “Though I didn’t expect it to be in this manner, but perhaps it’s for the better. After all, you can’t run away from me now.”

Ian pulled his fingers away from my throat slowly; as they moved, unnatural magic slid over my skin like oil, coalescing in the image of an ethereal chain which extended from my neck to Ian’s hand. He curled the link over his hand in loose loops, a haze of soft indigo mist collecting over his skin.

I was so focused on his motions that I was taken by surprise when the car suddenly slowed; grabbing at Ian’s legs was a reflex to keep myself from rolling off the seat as we came to a stop. He stiffened slightly, and I felt him press his back against the seat as if trying to create distance between us.

This time, he let me sit up, but the chain coiled around his hand kept me from moving any further away. His pale eyes focused on me for a long moment, brows furrowed and gaze unreadable. Ian reached up his free hand, stretching it toward my face- but it paused in the air as the door was opened from the outside.

“We’ve arrived, sir.” A man who must have been the driver held the door open, bowing slightly as he stepped out of the way for Ian to step out of the vehicle. 

The strange air in the car dissipated as Ian drew his shoulders back, shaking off whatever had kept him staring at me in disconcerting silence. “We’re here,” he murmured, his eyes colder when he looked at me again, with the hard and commanding expression I had faced in the auction house. “I can only do so much- so if you value your life, you better be on your best behavior. Otherwise there’s nothing I can do to stop my grandfather from taking your life into his own hands.”

It was a harsh and chilling warning, one that sunk straight to my bones. I knew the man he spoke of- the pride of the alchemist community, and a monster arcanists spoke of in fearful whispers. I knew Ian was right; if I made a wrong move, the amount of money and effort Ian had put into tracking me down wouldn’t matter. 

Ian gripped the chain of the leash tighter, dragging against it to yank me forward and breaking me out of my terrified stupor. Letting out the breath I had been holding, I did as he wanted, sliding across the seat to step out of the car with him. And as much as I hated to admit it, since he had been the one to drag me here… he was also my only chance of leaving the Hedquist manor alive.