Just A Taste | BOOK 1 The Night Lords Series

12. Groomed

As soon as he's gone, the strange soundproof bubble that's been keeping the music at bay dissolves and the deafening beats return. I clap my hands over my ears, wincing at the sudden rise in volume. Elias is focused on his tablet, speaking into a cell he pulled from his pocket.

I turn around to face the boy that's been quiet this whole time. It was bad. If not for the rise and fall of his chest, I would think he was dead. I scoot closer, glancing back to make sure Elias wasn't paying attention, before touching my hand to the guy's brow. He doesn't even have the strength to flinch away. I inch closer.

"Hey," I tug his blindfold down. His eyelids flutter. "Can you hear me?"

The guy groans. "Get the hell away from me, perverted leech." He grumbles weakly.

I touch his shoulder. "What's your name?"

His brow furrows as he struggles to focus, blinking rapidly as he tries to shake himself out of his dazed state. "Thomas."

I bite my lip. "Hi, Thomas. I'm Isabelle."

Thomas shakes his head, his bleary eyes finding my face. He squints. "Who?"

I look behind me again. Elias had his back to us while he stood near the room's entry. He was talking to someone outside. I try to move fast as I reach up and start tugging at the ropes around his wrists.

"Isabelle." I say again.

Thomas starts to look more alert as he takes in his surroundings. Noticing my efforts to free him, he looks past me towards the doorway.

"He left," he murmurs under his breath. "He left." Louder this time, his gaze burns bright as he looks to me. For the first time, I notice his eyes are a deep blue color.

"Hurry!" He urges. "It's a handcuff knot. Untying me yourself will take too long! Find something sharp." His eyes dart about the room before landing on something to my right. "There!"

I follow his gaze. Sitting on a small side table lay an unraveled wrap used to hold miniature tools like the ones doctors use. I stumble on over, falling to my knees beside it as I look at what I have. I swallow hard. This did not belong to a doctor.

Knives of every kind lay gleaming like silver, pointed teeth. One of them was left outside its sheath, the blade still wet with blood.

"Uh, Isabelle? Did you change your mind about helping me escape?"

I snap out of it, glancing at Thomas to see him looking at me, exasperated. I snatch up one of the cleaner blades and run back to him. Sawing at the ropes, they soon fall apart, revealing his bloody wrists. Thomas slumps to the floor, groaning as he tests his stiff limbs. The wounds on his chest start to seep blood again.

"Your chest..." I whisper, hands fluttering uselessly in the air, unsure what to do.

He waves me away as he gets to his feet, a miracle in itself. He looks like a wounded drunk but the fire in his eyes told me he was more stable than he appeared.

"We have to get out of here." He grits out, holding his side with one hand.

"We?" I offer him my shoulder to lean on. He accepts, his weight making me grunt, knees threatening to buckle. I fight to stay upright. He was heavy for a guy with barely any meat on his bones. It must be his height. He had to be at least six foot.

Thomas starts guiding us towards the door before coming to an abrupt halt. "Yes, we." He pants. "I'm not gonna leave the girl that saved me from getting whipped to death." He tries to offer me a smile but it looks more like a pained grimace.