Chapter Thirteen

Silver was down to two rows left, when he heard a noise erupt out of the silence. Twisting to the left, his eyes squinted as a large rat scurried out of the shadows between two crates and across his right foot. Silver’s gaze shifted from watching the trail of the rat, back to the crates it had came from. Something must have spooked the rat for it to be running away like that. Effortlessly tossing the top boxes off, Silver lay his head atop first one then the other bottom crate, listening for the slightest noise.

After laying his ear against the second, Silver quickly turned away, searching for the crowbar still resting on the ground. He had heard something akin to a whimper within and knew it had to be Ivy. Grabbing the crowbar, he forced the top of the crate off and peered inside to find wide, bright green eyes staring up at him. Forcing his gaze away from Ivy’s hysterical one, he realized her hands and ankle’s were shackled.

There was also a chain around her midsection, holding her knees secured to her stomach, while another was wrapped around her shoulders keeping her forearms in place. Both chains kept her in a compact state, allowing for her longer frame to fit inside the small crate easier. Ivy also had tape over her mouth and wrapped around her head. Taking another glance at her present state, Silver figured Ivy wouldn’t have been capable of speech even if the tape wasn’t there.

Reaching into the crate, Silver gently, but awkwardly, lifted her out and placed her on the cement before it. Pulling out his set of lock picks, he deftly removed the chains and shackles from her. Silver cursed continuously when Ivy refused to respond to any of his words, commands, or threats. Growling, he left her where she lay and retrieved his coat, before returning and placing it around her. Lifting her into his arms, Silver began leaving the factory. He just hoped when Ivy recovered she would be herself again and pissed off at him for carrying her like this.

Amala threw a chair into the silver and gold mirror set above her dresser in her rage. Not only had Guido decided to beat the hell out of Ivy Wolfsbane and truss her up within a crate instead of killing her as she demanded, but the twins had also gone missing. Screaming in rage and frustration, Amala grabbed another chair and threw it through the window. Why wouldn’t things just go the way they were planned? Twisting around, she threw a vase at Vinnie when he entered the room with her. It smashed into the wall inches from his face, though he didn’t even flinch.

“We’re going to pay Mr. Kristóf a visit.” She stated as she pushed past him and stalked down the halls toward the dungeon.

Ivy came slowly awake to find herself lying in a strange bed. Confusion filled her until she smelt the mesquite burning off in the distance. Though it did not explain how she had gotten here, she at least knew where here was; Silver’s home. Rising to her feet, Ivy surveyed her various, bandaged, new wounds, before taking stock of the rest of her body. She was so filthy that she wasn’t certain whether the dark spots on her were dirt or bruising. Stripping, Ivy made her way to the room’s bathroom to shower. It wasn’t until she was being pelted by the water, that she realized she had been placed in the master bedroom.

After taking a very long shower, Ivy stepped out feeling a whole lot better than before. At least until she stared into the floor length mirror on the back of the door. She grimaced as she gently probed the sore and battered skin where the taser wires had struck her. Her eyes darkening in fury, she peered at herself in the mirror more closely. Her face and entire body were covered in cuts and bruises. Ivy’s hands clenched into fists as memories of those few times she had roused came fresh into her mind. She literally shook in fury as she remembered each and every blow Guido had given her, before throwing her in that crate. Turning away from the mirror, Ivy, somewhat painfully, shrugged into her clothing. It was time to end this.

Leaving the bathroom, she stopped suddenly at noticing Silver digging through the middle drawer of his dresser. It wasn’t because he was topless, but stemmed more from the fact his left arm had a bandage wrapped around it.

“Who the hell was dumb enough to strike you, Silver?”

Silver rose, pulling a black tee out in the process. “Doesn’t matter, Marla took care of them.” He turned around and gave her a calculating stare while pulling on the shirt. A grin appeared when she crossed her arms in annoyance. “I’m glad to see you didn’t take any permanent damage from that crate. It would have made our going after Amala a bit trickier.”

Ivy’s eyes squinted suspiciously. “What do you mean our, old man?”

The grin widened into a full blown smile. “You didn’t honestly believe that after what happened I would allow you to go after her alone?” He shook his head. “The four of us are accompanying you. Though I have made it clear to the others Amala is yours and no one else’s.”

Zachary slowly raised his head and watched the torch heading his way. His eyes darkened when they fell on the leather whip in Amala’s small hand. Ivy must have bested her again, why else would Amala be coming down here to punish him? Without preamble, she uncoiled the whip and struck him with it. Zachary hissed in pain as his chest split open and the coppery scent of blood wafted through the air. Amala screamed at him as she continuously struck him with the whip. None of what she said made any sense. Growling at the pain flowing through him, Zachary wondered who the hell Blake Snow was and what he had to do with his mother.

Ivy’s right eyebrow rose as Silver joined her in his parlor several hours later. He was clad in combat boots and carpenter jeans, both black, with a dark grey, long-sleeved shirt that hugged his upper body. An unbuttoned, black jean jacket concealed the knives she knew lay at the small of his back. On his right calf was another, this time unconcealed, strap full of throwing knives. Raising her gaze back up to Silver’s face, Ivy realized he was grinning at her again.

Ignoring his amusement, she asked: “What happened to your duster?”

His grin turned into a smirk. “You bled all over it and I’ve yet to get it washed. You ready for this, Little Kitty?”

Ivy laughed as she caught the helmet tossed to her. Silver hadn’t called her that since her first assignment under him on her seventh birthday and he learned the true her while accompanying her. “I should be asking you that, old man. You’ve been retired for the past ten years, or have you forgotten that?”

Silver shrugged. “Retirement wasn’t agreeing with me all too well anyways.” He shrugged again. “Besides why would I sit back and do nothing while one of my best Stalkers decides to go on a suicide mission?” He was grinning again as he approached the door.

A smile formed on Ivy’s own face as she closed the door behind them. She had only seen Silver in action once before, when he was training her still. He wasn’t even tapping into his true potential either considering she was still new to the Stalkers, injured from fighting Christian’s men, and Silver wasn’t really out to hurt her. Despite his words that it was to be an all out fight. Ivy’s smiled brightened when she hopped onto the back of Silver’s bike and wrapped her arms around his waist. This was definitely going to be interesting…as well as entertaining. She shook her head the instant the thought registered; she had forgotten her popcorn again.

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NOTE: Not certain if I am completely pleased with this chapter either, may change in the future.