Warren

Warren heard his bone crush before he felt the weight of gravity pulling him to the solid floor. He knew, without a shadow of doubt that his wrist or arm, perhaps even both, was broken into pieces. His heart was beating so fast in his chest he feared it might beat itself to death. That right seemed to be reserved to his early morning guest.

The man towered over him, dark curls caressed his forehead and his piercing blue eyes stared down on him as he put more pressure on Warren's already broken arm. He cried out in agony, tears pooling in his eyes as he tried to cover his assets.

"I won't ask you again boy," he spoke in a strange accent as the man spat the word boy with the venom of a snake. He punched him directly in the face, so quickly Warren only knew it had happened when he'd felt the warm red liquid drip lazily down his swollen cheek and into his open mouth. "Where's the girl?"

"I already told you," Warren spat some of his coppery blood to the side, wincing at the pain in his throbbing wrist and face. "I don't know where she went", he braced himself for the violence that was sure to be the final nail in his coffin, or the torch to his rotting burnt body.

Some spy he shaped to become; he hadn't reported to his contact and he'd lost Brianna, she'd slipped away in the early throws of the night or morning – his body was so depleted and content that he hadn't stirred. He was a fool; he chastised himself, a fool for getting involved in this mess in the first place. No good came from stalking a young woman; no good certainly came from spying on said woman for a faerie.

"That's a shame" the man said, disappointment lacing his pointed features. Warren stared deeply into those cold eyes and found nothing within them, only two black irises glaring back at him with such deadness that despite the heat and adrenaline, he shivered. "You aren't of any use"

"I beg to differ," Whispered a male's voice from the shadows. The man stood straight and sighed as he watched a man with sandy blonde hair emerge from the corner of the doorway. "I think he will prove more useful alive"

"Keir..." the dark figure warned.

"Let him live" those three words shook Warren's heart and it raced in his chest.

"I wont help you," Warren whispered, he slumped against the wall, his blood already seeping from wounds he didn't know he'd gained, "I won't help you hurt her" he knew with every fibre of his being that Brianna was good. He wouldn't hurt her. He couldn't.

The other man, a lot older than the dark figure who'd beat him, laughed. He actually laughed. Warren squirmed in his awkward position on the cold ground.

"My dear boy," the man whispered softly, a slight husk to his oily voice and easily crossed the short distance of the small room to where Warren sat draped against the cold wall. "What makes you think you have any choice in the matter?" Warren winced as the man bent down towards him; his icy golden eyes held nothing within them but contempt. For what or who, Warren could only imagine.

For the first time in his life, Warren was afraid. Truly. So much so, every bone in his body screamed for him to run. Still, the man glowered at him. He was handsome, for an older man, with broad shoulders and a strong frame. But it was his manner that irked Warren mostly, he simply demanded attention, respect and he oozed power. Warren was nothing to him, he'd deduced that much. What was a bloodied sailor with a broken bloodied body to a man of his stature?

"Bring him to the Mountain, make sure you're not seen by the High Lord or his spies," he stood abruptly, stalking away with the ease and posture of a confident cat, "we'll make this one useful, I'll not have my daughter meddle in my affairs, especially not with a human". He hissed the word 'daughter' as though it were poison on his lips. Warren knew that if this man were his father, he'd run.

But Warren was stuck, he'd not heard from the other fae males, Brianna was gone…he was alone once again.

Warren worried his bottom lip and winced as the fresh taste of the blood swirled in his mouth. This cat was prowling, searching…and Brianna was the unsuspecting and helpless mouse.

Mother save us.