The sound wasn’t repeated.

I hesitated, then bent and peered under the bottom of the stall, looking for shoes. Nothing. Maybe the scuff had come from one of the rats I’d seen; I knew from experience just how noisy the bastards could be.

But it was also possible that one of those rats was a shifter and I was about to be attacked.

I quickly used the toilet, looked for shoes under the stall wall again, then cautiously opened the door and peered out. There was no one here, but my instincts were twitching, and I couldn’t escape the notion that what little luck we’d had was about to run out.

I washed my hands but didn’t use the dryer; the last thing I needed was its noise masking any sound of an approach. I padded softly to the exit, pressed my back against the wall, and peered out. The courtyard remained empty and yet... instinct continued to prickle.

I glanced toward the pub’s back door. The air in-between shimmered, and a wave of energy flowed around the building.

I swore, dug out my phone, and called Lugh.

“Get out,” I said the minute he answered. “Someone is casting a spell and it’s falling around the hotel—”

Another scuff, this time behind me. I spun, heart in my mouth. I had a brief glimpse of a thin, sharp face with beady little eyes, then something hit me hard, and the lights went out.

Chapter Thirteen

I woke to the realization that luck had very definitely run out. My hands were tied behind my back, and I was nose down on some sort of channeled metal floor, each breath drawing in disgusting amounts of dirt and gods knew what else.

There was no conversation and no sound other than the nearby crashing of waves, which in itself suggested I was now a long way from the pub. I opened my eyes but couldn’t see anything thanks to the fact I was facedown. I carefully shifted position, easing the weight off my nose but causing spot fires of pain across my body. My head was the worst; there were a dozen mean little men gleefully stabbing at my brain with hot pokers, and it hurt so damn much I could barely think.

But think I must if I wanted to get free.

From the little I could see through the shadows and the pain, it appeared I was in the back of some sort of van. It wasn’t particularly large, and it definitely wasn’t clean, and had a vague, fishy odor that made me suspect it had been “borrowed” from some poor fishmonger.

I rolled all the way over and discovered a big fat lump on the back of my head—one that didn’t appreciate being touched in any way. My stomach rose, and I sucked in air in an effort to combat it.

And in that instant heard the soft squeak of leather. I wasn’t alone after all.

“Well, well, well,” Vincentia drawled from somewhere behind me. “Sleeping beauty awakes.”