Darkest Misery Read Online Free

tail along for the ride, like you.” Mitch nodded uneasily. “You’re pretty calm about all this.”
    I forced a smile and got in the car. “I’ve had longer to live with the knowledge. Besides, the real danger won’t come until we’re stuck in a room with a bunch of preds, some arrogant magi and a few zealous Gryphons. It’ll be amazing if no one dies.”
    â€œWe’re not zealous.” Tom’s annoyance flared, and I smirked. “Not unless you mean about protecting humanity.”
    â€œOh, so much is obvious.”
    Tom ignored my sarcasm as he turned off Mitch’s street. Sighing, I reached for my water bottle, and as I did, something silver flashed in the corner of my eye. I had just enough time to think Car! before the object slammed into us, and we went spinning off the road.

Chapter Three
    Shock reduced my world to colors and sounds. The car’s gray interior. The crunching metal. Tom swearing. And a single, errant and idiotic thought—huh, that might be the first time I’d ever heard Tom swear.
    My seat belt strangled me, and before I could adjust to what was happening, a second impact followed the first. I flew back against my seat this time, grunting and gasping for breath. My head rolled to the side as the car rattled, and we finally came to an abrupt stop.
    Warily, I opened my eyes. A pole. We’d been knocked into a utility pole.
    Wasn’t that lovely. My brain didn’t seem to want to work. Some part of me was aware this must be what shock felt like, and I squeezed my eyes tight to snap out of it. Where was the pain? Where were my emotions? My reasoning?
    I found my voice if nothing else. “Tom? Mitch?”
    â€œYeah,” came Mitch’s voice from the backseat.
    I tried to look around, afraid of what sort of pain would hit when I did, but adrenaline had me covered. I felt nothing. No physical pain, that was. Mental clarity was coming, and I didn’t like it.
    â€œTom!” Blood dribbled down his forehead, but he blinked and murmured something I couldn’t make out. Shit. Phone. I needed my phone. Forcing down the panic that came on clarity’s heels, I undid my seat belt.
    â€œUm, Jess?” Mitch’s voice hardly registered with me, but the sudden spark of his orange fear cut through my fog.
    I twisted in my seat. “What?”
    â€œLook out!”
    The front passenger door flew open, and before I could see who was there, something dark obscured my vision. A sack or bag had been thrown over my head. Strong hands pressed my shoulders into the seat. Uselessly, I flailed against my attacker and whatever was over my eyes, but I got nowhere. Then I felt a prick on my arm, like a needle, and my scream died on my tongue.
    I couldn’t move. Couldn’t yell. My lungs worked—I breathed barely—but that was all. More doors opened and shut. Mitch was yelling. He was being attacked too. Then he also fell silent.
    Careless hands yanked off my seat belt and grabbed me from under the arms. I mentally shrieked and strained with every molecule of my being, every sour orange hit of Mitch’s and my collective fear, but I couldn’t break the paralysis. Just as frustrating, I couldn’t sense who the attackers were. Not a single emotion registered from them. I couldn’t even count their number because they didn’t speak. I was completely helpless, trapped with my rage and fear, my heart thrashing against my breastbone.
    Internally, I recoiled in horror as more hands grabbed me about the legs. Being unable to move added an extra layer of revulsion to my attackers’ touches. As if being abducted wasn’t terrifying enough, knowing they could do anything to me and I’d be helpless pushed me into panic territory.
    I heard a whooshing noise, like a van door opening, and my arm banged into something. Someone swore in a low voice. I could tell I was being loaded into a vehicle, but