by Dark, Raven
Fear ran sharply through my veins. I needed to get out of here. I needed to get back to my Four.
“Please. I beseech you to stay. Just for a moment. Will you…sit?” His hesitation made me pause. Was this a trick?
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked instead.
He came around the sofa in smooth strides, approaching with slow, careful movements, as if afraid I’d run. Which I should have been doing, but for some reason I wasn’t.
“You cannot stay here long, my pet. Your mind can not withstand the separation from your body for long without consequence. Please, I promise not to harm you. Sit with me a moment.”
I had to admit the kindness and concern in his voice sounded convincing, but this was Julian—the Violet that had taken over my body, my thoughts, my dreams. Violating me and others, including my mother.
“I think not, Julian. Whatever you have to offer, I want none of it. I want you to leave me and the others alone.”
With his hands now clasped behind his back, he smiled and stopped in front of me. “You and the others. You are a part of me, as I am of you. I understand you cannot see that, nor can you appreciate my plans, Setora, but fighting me is futile. In time, you will see as I do.”
I shook my head at him. “Never.”
“You were meant to be here with me long ago. Damien Vale ruined our reunion. His greed blinded him from sense.” He touched my cheek, his fingers shockingly warm. “But he will pay. As will the others.”
Curiosity trumping my fear, I asked, “What do you want with me? With the Violets?”
He lowered his hand and resumed his previous position with his hands behind his back. “I want what we deserve, what every male in this backwards world has.”
“And what is that? Equality? Riches? What?”
“Much more than that, my Cama Di.” His eyes shone with something akin to desire.
I shuddered.
“There isn’t much time. I offer you a choice, Setora. Come to me of your own free will. No more fighting, no more hiding. I know where you and the Legion are and will have someone escort you to me. I will arrange everything, but I need your word. In exchange, I will see that no harm comes to those…Legion males, nor your mother and friends. That is my word to you.”
My breath caught in my throat. He was threatening me into agreeing. If he knew where I was, surely if I didn’t agree, he’d harm those I loved. He’d find me and take me, then Mayhem’s Hold would be like the battle with Saketh all over again. Why didn’t he just take me now? What was stopping him from doing so, regardless?
“Why bother asking me to choose, Julian?” He boggled my mind, almost as much as my being with him like this, not terrified, not sensing the danger as I knew I should.
“Because I am selfish, perhaps. Or maybe it’s because I’m hoping you’ll remember, that you’ll wake up in time.” A tinge of sadness touched his eyes, but it was gone in a blink.
Confused, I tilted my head. “Remember what?”
A loud sound and a flash of movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. In another doorway I hadn’t noticed across the room, a figure in red silken garb stood, bow in hand.
The warrior from the last dream.
Instead of a hood this time, a cloth was wrapped around the warrior’s head, covering even the eyes, forming a red mask.
“You again! Get out! You are not welcome here,” Julian raged. He grabbed my arm as if to pull me to him.
In less than a second, the warrior appeared at my side without even seeming to cross the space between us, and with one armor-covered hand, grabbed my elbow.
The instant the warrior touched me, the world…flickered around me, the surroundings shifting.
The towering halls were replaced with solid walls of black steel. The warrior was still holding my arm. The floor at my feet was now smooth, cool obsidian metal. We were in the middle of a large dimly-lit room with nothing but dozens of candles lining every wall.
“Where are we?” I whispered, unsure why I felt compelled to keep quiet.
The warrior remained silent. Cupping my face, my rescuer examined it in a way that reminded me of Doc, with a medical perusal. Examining my neck, my hands for injuries, I thought.
That bow was now strapped across the warrior’s back. I looked over the thick cloak that covered my rescuer’s frame. There was a dragon on one side, just like the one on the garb Hawk wore, a two-headed beast. Garganthor. But where Hawk’s garb was black with a red dragon, my rescuer’s was crimson, the dragon black. It didn’t matter if it was different, I knew what it meant.
“You’re Yantu, aren’t you?”
The warrior gave a single, silent nod.
“Are you real?” If the warrior really looked like what I’d seen last time when the hood had dropped, there was no way the answer could have been anything but a resounding no.
Another nod.
“How? Just…how?”
A muffled chuckle came from behind that mask, the kind that suggested my incredulity was expected, natural.
The warrior conjured a knife as if from the air and held it up. I jumped back, but my rescuer seized my hand and sliced my palm once with the blade.
I jerked my hand back with a hiss of pain. “What was that for?” I snapped.
The warrior waved a hand. The mask vanished.
My jaw dropped. So I hadn’t imagined what I’d seen before. Fascination and a million questions swirled through my mind.
“But how—”
The warrior took my face and pressed both palms to my head firmly.
“There isn’t time. Remember. Remember and tell them, Setora. I will be waiting at the place where the Mountain touches the sky.”
“But—”
The warrior’s hands pushed at my chest, hard. I shouted as I was flung backward.
With a gasp and a jerk, I woke.
The moment I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was the pain. It blazed—my shoulder felt like it had been stabbed with a hot poker, and my head felt like someone was smashing at it with a hammer. Both sensations were so intense that for an instant, I forgot about the dream.
I looked at my left shoulder. There was a sling on it. Moving my head caused the pounding there to double, and I groaned. I tried to lift my hand to hold it in reflex, but my shoulder hurt too much to move it.
That’s when I noticed the second thing—my wrists were bound.
I looked down at my hands. They were lying awkwardly on my chest, a set of manacles around my wrists. The manacles looked like the ones Steel had used when we’d made love, but they were a little rustier, and I knew they weren’t there for the same reason Steel had used them.
And that’s when I noticed the final thing—I was lying, not across the huge bed in Steel’s rooms, but across a slightly smaller bed with a simple metal frame. What’s more, glass walls surrounded me, forming a bedroom-sized room. All glass, except for the stone wall beside me, which the bed had been pushed up against.
I tried to sit up. The throbbing in my head mounted, a wave of dizziness hitting me. I laid back down with a moan.
Outside the strange glass room, I heard Sinister shouting for Sheriff. Somehow, the sound reassured me.
I’d never seen a room like this before, but I knew what it was. A containment cell of some sort.
Why in Maker’s name was I in a cell?
“Oh no,” I muttered. “Not again.”
Julian. My stomach roiled with horror. He had to be the reason I was here. He’d taken over again, and whatever he’d done, it was serious enough that my men had to contain me. To cuff me. Serious enough that I’d been hurt, probably in an effort to stop me from doing whatever Julian had tried to make me do.
What had I done? Had he made me hurt someone?
Then the dream came flooding back, and my eyes widened. The dream! But was it real?
Wait, the warrior had cut my hand with that knife.
Then I noticed the stinging in my palm. My he
ad snapped up and I looked at my hand.
My heart leaped into my throat.
There was a gash where the warrior had cut me, right across my palm.
Chapter 8
Unexpected Truths
The implications hit home so hard they sent a wave of dizziness through me.
“Maker…” I breathed, running my fingers along the gash on my palm as if to make sure it was really there. I hissed at the sting and jerked my fingers away. It was real. And the wound was also still bleeding. Bright blue blood was dripping from the cut, but not near as much as it should have been. The wound was already closing.
I’d barely had a chance to process everything whirling in my head when I heard a beeping sound from outside the glass room. A section in the glass wall across the room slid open, and Sheriff stepped in. Doc followed him, his medical kit in hand.
Thank goodness Sheriff looked unharmed.
“How’re you feeling, sweetheart?”
Remaining outside the cell, Horse slid the glass panel closed. There were a series of beeps followed by an electronic buzz, then the soft clank of a lock moving into place.
“Master.” I said, my throat horribly dry.
“Setora, what happened to your hand?” Doc asked, moving quickly toward me.
I looked at my hands, noticing the front of the white frock I wore was stained blue where my hands had been lying.
He sat down on the bed and examined my hand.
“I’m not sure. I mean, I do know but…wait. What happened? Why am I in here? Is everyone all right?
“We’ll get to that in a minute. Let’s take care of this first.” Doc had opened his kit and started cleaning the cut with antiseptic. I hadn’t even noticed what he was doing until it started to sting. I hissed in pain again.
Sheriff came to my side. “The others are fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” He smoothed my hair back. “Are you okay?”
“Sheriff,” Doc said before I could answer. “This cut.” He looked at me. “Setora, you didn’t get this cut from anything in here.” He showed me the gash. “Your palm has been sliced with…a knife? How?”
The force in Doc’s voice startled me. “Sir, I—”
“Let me see.” Sheriff grabbed my hand, studying the wound. When his eyes lifted to mine, they were blue fire. “What the hell happened?”
I drew a long breath and met his gaze again. “Something that’s going to be hard to believe.” I sat up a bit, ignoring the pain thudding in my head and throbbing in shoulder. “Master, I need…I need you to get Hawk, Pretty Boy, and Steel. They need to hear this, too.”
“Setora, you don’t need them here to tell us what the fuck happened to your hand. Now out with it.”
I struggled to keep my voice level and not lose my nerve with his commanding tone. “I will tell you, I promise. But the others need to hear this. Master, please. Trust me.”
His mouth turned down, but something in my eyes or my voice must have convinced him, because he went to the exit of the cell.
“Horse, go get Hawk, Pretty Boy, and Steel, please.”
Horse nodded and disappeared.
“Setora, let me put a bandage on that hand,” Doc said. “It’s already healing, but we don’t want it to get infected.”
I nodded and let him get to work. “So what happened, Master?” I asked Sheriff.
He sighed. “Julian took over again. You tried to leave. Hawk and Steel had to stop you. They said you put up a hell of a fight. You were thrashing around, so they had to knock you out.”
I closed my eyes. “And I was hurt in the process. What about the others?”
Before he could reply, the door to the cell slid open. My three other masters filled the room, all looking concerned and protective.
“Damn.” Steel hurried forward and took my head gently in his hands. “Let me look at you. How’s your head?”
But I hardly heard him, too busy focusing on the splint on his fingers.
“Master, did I do that?” My voice broke.
“Forget it, Petal, it’s no big deal. They’ll heal.”
I looked at Doc, who nodded reassuringly.
Steel turned my face up to his. His eyes were sad. “I can’t believe I hit you.”
I widened my eyes. Well, if Steel had hit me to put me out and stop Julian, that explained a lot. I gave him a teasing smile. “So that’s why I feel like I head-butted a manatore.”
“Not funny, Petal.” He gave a mournful growl. Then he gently pulled me to him, his voice sounding broken. “Setora, I never would have—”
“Master, hush.” I carefully drew back, wanting to touch him but my hands were still restrained. “Don’t go there, Master. You did what you had to in order to protect me. And to protect this club.”
My gaze went to Pretty Boy who stood beside Steel. He didn’t even give me a chance to ask.
“I’m fine, Princess. Really. See?” He held up his hands, nodded to the rest of himself, then pushed his way to my side, ignoring Steel’s complaining grumble. “I wasn’t even there. I should have been.”
“Hawk?” I noticed him standing silent and remote near the exit. His face wore a scowl, and when I tried to meet his eyes, he turned his head away.
“Master, did I hurt you?”
“No. You didn’t, Kitten. It would have been easier if you had.” Hawk’s gaze met mine, but then veered to the sling on my arm. They lingered far too long for me not to work out why he looked like he’d committed a terrible sin. He closed his eyes, his head falling back.
“Master, please come here.” When he finally came to my side and squatted down, I said, “Don’t do that to yourself. I have a feeling if you hadn’t done what you did, I’d have done a lot worse than break Steel’s fingers.”
“Kitten.” Hawk took my chin warmly and nodded to Sheriff. Silently telling me to focus on Sheriff instead of him.
“If we’re all done with the recriminations, Setora has something to tell us.”
Everyone looked at me, waiting.
“Just before I woke up, I saw Julian in a dream. It was different this time, though. And there was another person in the dream. And I wasn’t in my garden. It was a different place. Somewhere I’ve never seen before.”
“Someone else was there? Great.” Pretty Boy shook his head.
“Like I said, this was a place I’d never seen before, but I think…”
When everyone waited for me to continue, I licked my lips.
“What, Setora? What is it?” Sheriff touched my legs, and the pressure of his palms there gave me strength.
“I think the place I was in was his home, or at least a place that belonged to him.” I paused and braced myself. “But my gut tells me it was in his head.”
Sheriff’s eyes snapped to mine.
“What makes you think that?” Hawk’s brows were too high.
“Because. He didn’t seem to know I was there until I was right in front of him. Suddenly he could sense me there, and he… Well, he looked shocked. Like I wasn’t supposed to be there.”
Hawk and Doc glanced at each other. Something passed between them.
“Did he hurt you? Is that what happened to your hand?” Sheriff demanded.
I shook my head. “No, not at all. He just wanted to talk, which we did—briefly—before I was rescued.”
“Rescued?” Steel asked.
“Someone else showed up in the dream and took me away from him.”
Hawk’s jaw tightened. “Do you know who the person was?” He sounded disbelieving.
“No.” I made myself meet everyone’s gaze, but especially Hawk’s. “The person who showed up, well, it felt like I was pulled out of Julian’s consciousness and into my rescuer’s head.”
Everyone was looking from one another to me, the same disbelief and doubt on every face. I pushed onward.
“Masters, the person who rescued me was a warrior. One I’ve seen before.” I held up my palm for all of them to see. “Before I was pushed out of the d
ream and woke up, the warrior gave me this. To prove that what I saw was real. She cut my hand as proof of her existence.”
“But how—” Sheriff stopped. “Wait. Did you say—”
“Yes,” I said. “The warrior…it was a woman.”
Why I expected any other reaction than the ones I got was beyond me, but I’d been hoping for better. Better than Steel’s snort into his hand, Hawk turning on his heel, holding his forehead, Pretty Boy’s ear-to-ear grin, and Sheriff’s shake of his head, looking at me as if I’d just told all of them I’d seen a man with two heads.
Doc wasn’t much better. He cocked his head, examining me as though he thought I was in the grip of a fever. He looked fascinated, but far from believing.
“Sir, Masters, I remember everything, clear as day. I’m not confused, if that’s what you’re thinking. Julian took me to a place that belongs to him. And then a warrior came. A warrior in a red cloak. She saved me. And then her mask came off. She talked to me. I saw her face and heard her voice. It was a female. And what’s more, I’ve seen her before. At the bazaar on the way back from where Talek was holding me, there was a Violet at one of the merchant tables. It was the first time I’d ever felt that buzzing sound.”
Lost in memories of that strange encounter, I missed whatever Sheriff and Doc were saying. I felt suddenly drained. My head and shoulder ached and burned, but I felt better now that I’d shared this warrior’s appearance with my men. But then panic hit me, full force.
“Julian!” I burst out. “Masters, he said he knew where we were, that he’d send someone to come for me if I agreed to go with him willingly.”
“Shit,” Steel growled.
“Masters, what if he shows up? What if Mayhem’s hold is captured again? Like it was with Saketh and his Hellhounds?”
Pretty Boy’s pale brows scrunched. “Julian said he knew where we were, but did he say specifically where?”
“No...” I shook my head, hoping. “Now that I think about it, he didn’t. He just said he knew.”
“He could have been bluffing,” Hawk told the others.