The Nerdy Prince and His Nemesis.

Chapter Seven. Healer.

Chapter Seven. Healer.

Searing facial pain was all Ronnie could feel. Her back was numb, as she attempted to move in a desperate bid to relieve the pins and needles that shot up and down her limbs. However, movement was all but impossible, not because of the pain in her face, or the pins and needles in her limbs, but because something thick and heavy was holding her down. Attempting to open her eyes, she could only manage to widen them to small slits. Instinctively she knew that her face was a mess. She could feel the blood running out of her nostrils, coating the inside of the hessian sack that was, once again, placed over her head. She felt a small whimper of sadness wanting to escape her throat. Not because of the pain, but because she hadn’t healed, which was another indication that either Orla had gone, or was severely incapacitated inside her mind. She swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat, determined not to chance her guards from seeing her shed a tear, and having them rejoice over it.

By shear grit and determination, Ronnie managed to prize her eyes open, as wide as she could manage. She had no clue how long she had been out for the count, but the van was on the move once more. So evidently, they had changed the wheel. Her stomach begun to rumble, making her realise that she was extremely hungry, more so than normal, which made her believe she had been out of it for probably over 24 hours. Ronnie didn’t know how long the rest of this journey would take, or if they would even bother feeding her since her escape attempt. In hindsight, she should have realised that she didn’t stand a chance of getting away. But her personality wouldn’t allow her to just accept her fate. Not knowing where they were taking her or why and doubting, they would risk letting her out once more, even for a bathroom break, Ronnie prepared herself for a long and extremely uncomfortable journey.

Her mind begun to wander as she attempted to use this time to plan, working things out, and make, however long she had left on this journey, pass quicker than if she just lay, not thinking. She began mulling over the reasons they were keeping her alive. It was as clear as day that the guards had no love for her. Jorge particularly seemed to hate her guts. The only logical reason was they needed her for something. That something, would, involve computers. Of that Ronnie was certain. The thought of getting behind a keyboard once more filled her with hope. She knew that once that happened, she would need to be careful. Take her time and think hard about how to reach out to Hamish about where she was, even who she was, if possible. Ronnie was fully aware that if they caught her attempting to message the prince, that she would probably not survive. However, she would rather die, than not fight back in her own way. Plus, she hated these bastards with a passion, and their quest for world domination.

If it were only her own safety, she would have refused point blank to have done anything they wanted her to do when they originally kidn*pped her, she was not afraid to die. But it wasn’t just her who was in danger. She had been shown pictures of her twin brother, Reggie. He was in their sights, with somebody watching him, and they never failed to show her just how close they could get to him. Her brother had an eye for a pretty lady, and they had plenty of those around who worked for them, and would seek him out, allowing her to know that should she not complete a task, that the girl in question was a skilled werewolf hunter, and would end his life when he least expected it. There was not a lot that Ronnie was afraid of, but something happening to her twin brother, terrified the living daylights out of her. Even if he had been a pain in her ass since before they were even born. If Ronnie was honest, she would protect all her family and friends. She may have been a lot of things in her younger days. A pain in her mother and father’s ass, when constantly fighting with her brother. The girl with a fiery temper that even Luna Davina, who was the most patient person in the world, would get exasperated with her, but one thing she had always been, was fiercely loyal. As she lay in the van, in horrendous pain, she couldn’t help but regret her choices to leave her loving pack. She had wanted a taste of freedom, to be independent, an individual. She had never been viewed as an individual, she was always a twin. To be seen as Ronnie Callaghan, and not one of the Crayon Twins was something she had strived for. Now, she realised that freedom was something which in her opinion is overrated, when left all alone at the mercy of sadistic, evil animals.

Ronnie had, though, stayed as loyal as she could to both her pack and the crown. She had managed to shut down certain projects her captors were working on, without their knowledge. Yes, Hamish had been able to capture a lot of what they were doing, as she had expected. But. She had also covertly managed to put a spanner in the works of the despicable plans they had for life on earth. It was amazing how just a small, tiny line of code, within a larger section could change the outcome should the program ever be run. She had hidden tiny viruses in everything she had done, but had the intelligence to do it so when she tested a single part of the code the virus would be dormant. It would only work when running the whole system, the tiny lines of code turning into a full-blown virus in a chain reaction. It was highly skilled work, and, if she had been in any other situation, she would be highly proud of herself. But she did not have time to be proud of what she had done, because she could ill afford to become complacent. The thought of the systems that the bastards thought would work in their bid for world domination would backfire if they ever attempted to use it, gave her joy, even in her darkest moments. She had often wondered what her saviour prince would think of her work, if he was impressed by her intelligence, or was her achievements tiny in comparison to his own. The thought that Hamish would have some pride in what she had managed to do gave her a warm, comforting feeling, although she did not fully understand why. Maybe it was because he would understand the complexities of the code she had produced. The guards had a rudimental knowledge of what she did, and if she was honest, it was by accident that they caught her leaving a breadcrumb for Hamish. She had become sloppy in her desperation for her prince to find her. Once they found that she had reached out to the royals, they then uncovered her secret messages to the prince. Ronnie allowed the thought of hampering them from the inside once again to give her comfort. However, she did not know how much they had uncovered, and she knew things would be a lot more difficult this time around, if indeed they were wanting to utilise her skills once more.

The wheels of the Van ground to a halt, and she wondered if they would allow her a bathroom break. Not that she was as desperate to go, as she was hungry. Another indication she had been unconscious for a while. Somehow, though she doubted that they would allow her to leave the van anytime soon. The thought of laying in her own excrement once more sent a shiver of disgust through her weakened, battered and bruised body.

However, she heard the footsteps, and voices. Lots of voices. Russian accents, from what she could make out. Was she back in Russia? Was that why they were on the way through Finland, travelling north, to cross the border.

The doors opened, wide, and even through the hessian sack that covered her head, the light hurt her swollen eyes.

Four hands lifted her up, as they shouted at the Russian guard Boris. Before they turned to Jorge.

“What the actual f**k have you done to her. Sergie is going to be pissed with you. He wants her to be able to work as soon as possible” one shouted in English to her Spanish Guard.

“He would be more pissed if she had escaped like the b***h attempted to,” Jorge responded.

Ronnie’s head hung, pain now shooting up her spine through her neck and into her head, as they hauled her into a sitting position.

“Doesn’t she have a wolf?” another man asked, this time the accent was British, a thick sounding accent, that Ronnie discerned was probably from the black country.

“Yeah, well she did. Not so sure after all the wolfsbane we pumped into her system,” Jorge shrugged, not feeling an ounce of sympathy for the girl he had guarded for longer than he believed she should have.

Ronnie listened to the conversation intently. Well, the conversations that were in English and she could understand, however, with her head hanging low and the low mumble of pain that was escaping her lips, she hoped her captors would not know that she was taking everything in.

“You are a day late,” another voice shouted, this time the accent sounded Italian.

“Blame Boris. He drove to fast in a pothole and we got a flat. He also didn’t bring a spare, to give this b***h more room in the back of the van,” Jorge spat out.

“Look, we are here now, and I am sure Sergie has healers around this god forsaken place. She will be fine,” Jorge shrugged.

“Okay, well, we should take her to the healers, before she is presented to Sergie,” Boris interrupted, fearful of the wrath of their leader, for the girl being beaten to a pulp.