“Lobo del Diablo,” she said finally. “I guess that makes me dominant.”
“Until we’re out of this crate, all of us are working together,” I said. “And since I don’t hear anyone except your convict ass speaking up as troop leader, I’ll be figuring out our next move.”
“Yeah,” said Red. “Because you’ve done such a great Hexed job getting yourself stuck here in the first place.”
“Listen…” I gestured at her for her name.
“Esperanza,” she said.
“Huh. Mouthful. I think I’ll stick with Red. Listen, Red. You’re obviously strong and capable and all that shit but I’ve actually dealt with kidnappings and hostage situations before. I was a SWAT officer for six months and homicide detective for five years before that, so if you’ve got relevant experience, now is the time to speak up.”
Esperanza dipped her head to her chest and muttered something that I didn’t catch. I turned back to Dolores.
“Are you going to be all right now, Miss Stern?”
“You can call me Deedee,” she murmured. “Everyone does.”
“Deedee, are you going to be all right?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I feel like I can’t breathe. My heart is racing. I have to get out of here.”
“You’re having a panic attack,” I said. “I need you to shut your eyes and focus on something that calms you down, and take deep breaths. Calm breaths. Nothing worse is going to happen to you than what’s happened already. I’ll make sure of it.”
Red grunted a guttural laugh. “Big Hexed heroine, huh? Saving the day?”
I ignored her and raised my voice. “Who else is in here? Speak up.” The container only had the single bulb, and my eyes were so dry that my vision probably wasn’t any better than a plain human’s. That was a depressing thought. “Tell me you’re all right,” I said softly. “Please.”
“Me,” someone whispered from the darkest corner of the container. “I’m here.”
“What’s your name?” I said, squinting into the dimness. A petite girl with a long fall of brown hair pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging herself.
“Anna.”
“Anna, I’m Luna. Are you a witch or a were?”
“A caster witch,” she whispered. “He invited me to happy hour after my nursing class let out and I woke up here.” Her numb recitation spoke to shock, and I scooted over to her, trying to keep myself out of the filth on the floor of the container. It was mostly vomit—I wasn’t the only one who’d lost their cookies upon waking up in this small square of hell, apparently.
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “We’re going to find a way out of here.”
“Yeah,” Red snorted. “When they sell us into sexual slavery.”
“Will you shut the Hex up?” I snarled. “You’re really not helping morale here.”
“It’s okay,” Anna whispered. “I know I’m not getting out of here. They took my caster. I can’t pull down energy, either.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Anyone else?”
“My head hurts,” said a fourth voice. “Do you mind keeping it down?”
I looked further into the shadows, seeing the hunched figure only in profile. “Sorry. I think we’re all a little out of sorts.”
“Yes, well.” She sighed. “I couldn’t care less about making friends, so could we please just wait to find out what they want from us and how much it will cost to get me out of this metal box of idiots?”
“What’s your name?” I said, ignoring the lumping in with the other idiots. “We all know each other now, so it’s only fair.”
“Charlie,” she said. “Now please leave me alone.”
“You don’t seem real upset,” Red said. “Maybe this is everyday for you, but for the rest of us, well … % We’re locked in a fucking box! ” She beat her fists against the side again.
Charlie sighed. “Go right ahead, if it makes you feel better. Like the reporter said, we’re bound in here. That door could be wide open and we couldn’t walk out. The working would put us on our backs.”
“Are we going to die?” Anna asked.
“No,” I said, at the same time that Red said “Maybe.” I shot her a look. “We don’t know,” I said. “I have a feeling we’re worth more alive.”
“I am,” Charlie said. “But the rest of you…”
“You’re kind of a bitch, aren’t you?” Red growled. Charlie flashed some fang in return. I didn’t protest—Red hadn’t said anything I wasn’t thinking.
People deal with trauma in different ways, I reminded myself. Most lose their heads, some get angry, and some, like Charlie, go cold. “Listen,” I said loudly. “Is anyone hurt? Anyone who can’t walk or needs meds right away?”
“I cut myself when I woke up,” Charlie said. “I was trying to get out and I sliced my hand on the binding. It might already be infected.”
“All right,” I said, ignoring the whine in her tone that was clearly hunting for our undivided attention. “Anna, can you take a look at her? You’re a nurse, right?”
“Student nurse,” she murmured. “I’m not certified yet.”
“Well, it beats my two weeks of EMS training,” I said with a smile. “Just make sure that she’s not going to bleed to death or go septic, all right? Can you do that for me?”
“Okay.” She nodded, crawling over to Charlie. I looked at Deedee.
“You okay?”
“I’m doing better,” she said tightly. “Still can’t breathe. I don’t like small spaces.”
I started to tell her that everything would be fine, even though I had nothing to back it up. I figured the least I could do was to try and stay calm, but before I could say anything there was a rumbling outside and the doors of the crate started to swing open.
Red rocketed out of her crouch. “Holy shit. They’re here.”
Deedee let out a small cry and Anna flinched against Charlie, who rolled her eyes. “It’s not the Gestapo out there. Jesus.”
“You don’t know that,” I said shortly. “Everyone stay still and do what they say. You live longer by cooperating with kidnappers.”
“You’re bossy,” said Charlie. “I bet you were a hall
