Enslaved by the Others by Jess Haines

and they almost hurt as they slipped back under the skin.
    Aside from the claws, I had no way of knowing for sure if concentrating was making anything else happen. I didn’t want to break any furniture testing my strength and I wasn’t about to ask Iana to be a sparring partner. Even with whatever edge the Other side might have given me, collar or no, I was sure she could wipe the floor with me.
    She appeared, as if summoned by my thoughts, inches away the next time I turned around. Smothering a startled gasp, I suppressed the urge to hit her for scaring me. I ran at the mouth instead.
    “First thing we do when we get out of here is buy a bell for that collar.”
    She smiled, though there was little humor in it, then gestured at my hands. “I wouldn’t do that. If he catches you, he may declaw you.”
    She wasn’t kidding. I raised a hand to eye level, staring at my fingertips. A massive shudder rolled down my spine. “Well, this place keeps getting better and better.”
    She inclined her head, a subtle glow building in the depths of her eyes. “You have a better chance of escape than I do, and my freedom hinges on yours. If you compromise that, I will be very displeased.”
    Awesome. Like I said, better and better.
    Rather than risk pissing off her or Max or anyone else, I stalked over to the nearest empty pool chair and rested my elbows on my knees, cupping my chin in my hands. The sparkle of sunlight on the pristine carpet of snow outside our prison felt like a taunt, reminding me of the freedom I’d lost.
    Iana pressed a hand to my shoulder, sending a jolt of heat through the thin silk of my robe to seep into my skin. I did my best not to flinch away, turning my head to look at her out of the corner of my eye.
    “There is ... something new. Something dark in you. What did they do while you were gone?”
    Oh, that was a pleasant thought. Just what did Gideon do to me when he touched me? “I don’t know. There was a necromancer—”
    Iana made a sharp, hissing sound, her hand moving in a gesture that looked something like what I’d seen Arnold do when casting freehand spells. As I stumbled away from her, putting distance between us, she cried out in pain as nothing but a few fizzling blue-white sparks trickled from her fingertips just before she clutched at her collar. The skin around her throat and on her palms and fingertips where she grabbed at the metal was reddening.
    When I reached for her, her hand shot out, slapping my own away. The sting was nothing compared to the mixed fear and loathing on her face. I wasn’t totally sure if it was directed at me or at my mention of Gideon, but it wasn’t pleasant to have that fierce, glowing gaze focused on me. Never mind if that collar protected me from her magic—there was nothing to say she might not use her supernatural strength to snap my neck if she wanted.
    “A necromancer,” she said, staring into nothing. “I thought they ... never mind. If you’ve garnered that thing’s attention, there is nothing I can do to help you. Not like this.”
    “What’s wrong with me? What do you mean, ‘not like this’?”
    “It’s in you. In your blood. In your head. You’re cursed. Without the collar I might be able to get it out, but this ...” She tugged at the creepy fashion accessory, a low growl of frustration telling me better than words what she meant. She couldn’t cast a damned thing with that circle of metal cutting her off from wherever her power came from. It was still there. The sparks, even if they signaled the spell fizzling, told me as much. She just couldn’t do whatever it was she needed to in order to complete casting.
    If only I could be sure she intended to help me, not destroy me, when she was trying to cast that spell on me.
    I had already committed to finding a way of freeing her from Max if I managed to do the same. Now it looked like I’d be putting myself back in danger if I did find a way to free her. If I could have, I would