by Keri Lake
I suck in a breath, jolting upright. I don’t even remember falling asleep.
I scan the room for any sign of the Rager and find a mangled body half in and out of the shadows across the room from me. The way the tips of its fingers dangle over the bare feet tell me the monster is crouched, watching me. Perhaps it’s watched me all night. I look down at myself, searching for any sign of bites, or violation, but find nothing. No evidence that it has moved from its corner.
Blowing out a shaky breath, I wipe the sleep from my eyes, and roll my shoulders, keeping my attention focused, but my thoughts wander to Will and the harrowing silence after Titus broke his neck. As tears mist my eyes again, I make a silent vow.
If I survive this, if I escape this cell alive, I will kill Titus myself.
No matter the cost.
Chapter 21
The sound of whispers steals my attention from where I’ve watched the Rager remain crouched. Must be hours now, I have no idea. The light never changes in this room. Never gives any indication of minute, or hour, or day.
From the small window of the door, I can make out Tom’s eyes staring in on me.
“You still in there, Thalia?”
Urgency beats inside of me, a sense of relief washing over me. “Yes, I’m still here!” Keeping my eyes on the monster, I push to my feet and slide against the wall toward the door. “Please, get me out of here, Tom.”
“They took my keys. I can’t open the damn door. But I’m … I’m gonna go get Agatha.”
“No!” I lurch closer, careful not to incite the hiding Rager. “She’s the one who put me in here!”
“That thing ain’t touched you? Hasn’t hurt you, at all?”
“No. It stays on the other side of the room, for some reason. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well, just hang in there, okay? I’m gonna see what I can do to get you out of there.”
“Please hurry. I don’t know how much longer it’ll keep its distance.”
“Sit tight. I’m gonna do everything I can.”
Nearly an hour must pass before Tom returns with the guards who shoved me inside this cell.
Frowning, I stare up at where their faces peer on me through the small window.
“You see?” Tom says from somewhere beyond their prying gazes. “She is the Chosen. She lives! Remus will have all your asses when he returns!”
“Agatha demanded that we put her in there.”
“Bring Agatha, then! Show her that this girl is worthy of mercy!”
“No. If she’s truly Chosen, she can wait until Remus returns. If he decides to set her free, so be it. We’re just following orders.”
“If this girl dies, for whatever reason, it will be on your heads.”
The guards turn away from the window, and I lurch forward, my stomach sinking with their retreat.
“Tom. Tom, wait. Don’t let them leave me in here! Please!”
He appears again, his eyes stern and determined. “It hasn’t touched you so far, and I reckon it won’t. Just sit tight and be quiet. I’m gonna keep trying, but you’re gonna rile that thing up, if you keep on with that noise.”
“Okay. I’ll stay here. Just … please don’t give up, okay? Please.”
“I promise I won’t.”
Time ticks by in the span of what feels like an eternity, and my stomach growls with hunger. Lisbeth passes by my window, and I can hear her sliding the tray into Titus’s cell. The scent of meat and bread has me twisting into myself, to keep from throwing up. Hunger will make me weak, and if this thing decides to up and attack, I’m not sure what I’ll do then.
At the click of the door, and the sound of footsteps trailing off, I swallow back tears.
“Why did you do it?” The sound of my own voice echoes inside the cell, and only the click of the Ragers teeth answers. “Titus? I’m asking you. Why did you kill him?”
He doesn’t answer.
The Rager seems to grow more agitated, hissing and snapping its teeth.
“Why did you kill him!” My voice bounces off the wall, and I tip forward, coughing with a scratchy burn that lingers at the back of my throat.
The Rager peeks out from its shadow, growling and clicking.
And still, Titus doesn’t answer.
Chapter 22
More time passes. Perhaps another day, if the ache in my body from lying on concrete is anything to go by. It feels as if a sock has been stuffed down my throat, the dry cotton sensation like a lump there every time I swallow. The growling across the room is a low, droning white noise beneath the incessant static in my head.
The door clicks and swings open, and Remus stands in the opening, shielded behind a guard holding some kind of jabbing stick. “It’s true.” The air of wonderment in his voice fills me with both sickness and utter relief. “Get her out of here. Get her cleaned up immediately and fed.”
The growling intensifies, as two guards follow behind the one with the stick. They link their arms beneath mine, and the concrete scrapes across the tips of my toes, as they drag me out of the cell. It’s only once I’m clear of it that the Rager lurches toward the one with the stick, and at the first jab, it hisses and swipes out at him. Before the guard can escape, Remus slams the door shut, locking it so the guard can’t escape.
“Hey! Hey, wait!”
The growls grow louder, and the sounds of tearing flesh beat down my spine with a harrowing reminder that it could’ve been me, while Remus stands over me, his head tipped in curiosity.
“So it’s not because he wasn’t hungry.” Frowning, he waves his hand in front of his nose and gags into his palm. “Dear God, you smell like piss. We’ll get you cleaned up, and then you and I have quite a bit to talk about.”
Steam whorls above me, as Aiyana, Lisbeth’s sister, pours a bucket of boiling water into the tub that’s already cooled in the last half hour. I sit with my knees tucked up close to my chest, my thoughts wrapped around Will and the knotted sheets I’ll now have to climb alone. The river I’ll have to navigate by myself, along with whatever creatures might be hidden in the surrounding forest that lines each bank. It’s a risk I’m willing to take to leave this place, though. Whatever I face out there will be far better than what Remus and Agatha have in mind.
“Did I give you permission! Did I give you the authority!” In the next room, Remus screams at Agatha, as he’s done for the last twenty minutes. “I told you, didn’t I? She is Chosen. She will bear my child!”
“She’s not a virgin, Remus! Did she tell you that she fucked the soldier?”
I don’t even care that she told him, at this point. I don’t care about anything.
“She could’ve fucked the whole platoon, so long as it’s my baby she carries.”
“You should’ve kept her in that cell another night. I guarantee our uncle would’ve torn her to pieces by morning. Then you’d see she’s not as special as you think.”
“You’re jealous. That’s all this is. Jealousy. Blind, ignorant jealousy!”
I rest my forehead against my folded arms atop my knees. My mother would call this cold, numb state post-traumatic stress. She told me my father suffered it once as a young soldier, after a raid. Whatever he’d seen had apparently been enough to leave him with endless nightmares that would wake him in the middle of the night, the few times he was home for R-and-R. Once, when I was ten, I snuck into their bedroom to look at him, because there were times I couldn’t believe he was actually home. His hand was at my throat before his eyes even opened, and it took a good couple of minutes for him to fully wake and realize I couldn’t breathe. I never snuck into their room again after that.
“There’s a gift for you,” Aiyana whispers over the shouts in the next room, which have become an annoying background noise. “Beneath your pillow. From Tom.”
I turn my head to the side, both surprised and confused. “What is it?”
“Something you may find useful.” She grips my arm, and I notice the scars all over her hand, t
he tip of a finger that’s stunted, as if it’s been cut off. Everyone in this place seems to have suffered the abuses of these two.
With a stilted smile, I give a nod. “Thank you.”
“And what will you do, Remus, fuck her tonight?” A sadness clings to Agatha’s voice, and I can’t tell if it’s real, or fake. “She’s not fertile. I’ve checked, so it’ll just be you getting off on her!”
A long quiet follows, and I listen intently for his response, but the low murmurings through the door make it impossible to know what he’s saying to her. Soft moans indicate they’ve made up, though. Anxious to get back to my room and see what’s under the pillow, I finish up my bath and dress.
When I exit the room, Remus waits on the other side of the door with an expectant sort of smile on his face. Agatha doesn’t appear to be anywhere in sight.
At my frown, he nods. “Please. Let me see your back.”
My frown deepens, and I turn around and lift the freshly cleaned shirt that Aiyana provided. The pain of my welts has faded, but I know a few marks remain on my skin.
Cold, thin fingertips drift over my back, and I flinch at their contact. “It’s beautiful, the imperfection on something so pure and perfect.”
“Remus, I am not pure, nor--”
“Shhhh. Please.” Hand sliding down my arm, he links his deformed fingers into mine and guides me toward the bed, where a white gown has been laid out. Where they even find such extravagant garments so intact out here, is a mystery, with everything repurposed to death. It reminds me of the wedding dress my mother stored in the basement of our house. “I bought this for our first night together.”
“I’m actually very tired. I didn’t sleep much, at all, in that cell.”
“It won’t be tonight. I promised Agatha I would wait until you’re fertile. But there is something else I want from you.” The feel of his palm sliding over my welts in a sick and possessive way leaves me curling my lip. “I leave at first light with Titus. We’ll be gone for three days. If I whip you now, I’ll have the pleasure of doing it again when I return.”
The request should send a shudder of fear through me, but my mind is too wrapped up in thoughts. First, that I have no intention of being here in three days when he returns. Second, I need to figure out where I’ll secure the rope and escape, in the event Agatha decides to throw me back into the cell with the Rager. And third, I have to find a way to kill Titus before any of this.
I have to get my hands on those poisonous darts.
Chapter 23
Perched on the edge of the bed, I bite the inside of my lip, as Remus smears the ointment over my new welts. The gun, of course, is nowhere in sight. I didn’t think they’d be stupid enough to leave it out in plain sight. However, one of the darts still sits out on the dresser across from me. Probably not enough poison to kill him, but enough perhaps to weaken, or maybe even paralyze, him.
“Stay put,” he says, pushing up from the bed. “You have one that may need to be covered.”
The air of pride in his tone grates on my nerves, as he makes his way toward the bathroom. While he has his back to me, I tiptoe across the room and swipe up the dart, the wounds on my back damn near screaming with the rapid movement. By the time he reaches the sink, I’ve stuffed the dart into my pocket, careful not to stick myself with it, and scrambled back to the bed to catch the quick smile he sends my way, one that disappears behind the medicine cabinet door he swings open.
Prick.
“You were much quieter today. Why is that?”
“I mentioned I’m a bit tired today,” I lie in response.
“Well, once we get you properly attended, you can sleep until the sun comes up.” On the way back to the bed, he tears a patch of gauze from the roll with his teeth. “You’ll have to sleep on your stom--” Mid-stride, he pauses, looking thoughtful a moment. The behavior is so oddly out of place that my skin prickles. Without any word or explanation, he keeps on, plopping down onto the bed behind me. “The ointment should hold the gauze in place, but you’ll need to sleep on your stomach. Can you do that?”
Grimacing, I lean forward to allow him to apply the small patch of gauze over my wound. “Yes, of course.”
“Good. I want these properly healed for when I return.”
Of course he does. Remus is an empty vessel, designed to collect the misery of others. A vacuum that can never be filled. “Does it ever bore you?” I ask, picking at a scratch along my shin from the concrete floor in the Rager’s cell.
“What?”
“Inflicting pain on others?”
“No. I dread the day that it does.” A light nudge to my elbows, and he helps me up off the bed. “You’re free to return to your cell.”
As I step in that direction, a tight grip around my arm holds me in place, and I glance there then up at him.
“You can return what belongs to me, first.” He holds out his palm, flicking his fingers.
Panic spirals down the back of my neck, my throat tight and thick when I swallow. “I don’t …. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not stupid, girl.” Flicking his fingers again, he grips my arm tighter. “Hand over the dart in your pocket.”
He didn’t see me. I know he didn’t see me take it.
“You left it out intentionally.” I reach into my pocket for the dart, reluctant to hand it over to him, in case he decides to stab me with it.
“I didn’t think you had the balls. I was wrong.” He holds the dart up, examining the tip of it. “If you’d accidentally stabbed yourself, the poison would’ve killed you within seconds. But I’m certain you knew that when you took it.”
I don’t answer him, my whole body stiff in defense for how he’ll punish me for this.
“To answer your question, yes. I left it out intentionally.” The grip of my arm falls away, and before I can react, a flash in my periphery is the only warning before a hard crack lands on my face, knocking me back a step.
Pain shoots up into my nostrils, burning the rims of my eyes, and grinding my teeth, I stare up at him, daring myself to say something smart.
His eyes seem to want the same.
I can’t risk that he’ll lock me in my cell tonight.
“I’m sorry,” I grit out, choking back the urge to spit in his face.
“Who did you plan to stick with that, hmmm? Me? My sister?”
Telling him it was Titus might anger him. “Lindsay. To put her out of her misery.”
As he reaches to cup my face, I flinch, expecting another hard smack. Instead, he strokes a thumb over what will undoubtedly soon be a bruise on my cheek. “So merciful. You’re pious to a fault. Unfortunately, this isn’t the most merciful way to go. But fear not, once the child is born, she will no longer have to suffer.”
Sick bastards.
“Now go to your room.”
With flames of agony across my back, I exit the room and make my way back to the lower level, where I scamper toward the bed. Lifting the pillow reveals a knife, the size of which is small enough to tuck inside my pants, so long as I don’t stab my thigh. I’ve no doubt Tom left it for me to offer what little defense he could, in case Agatha decided to throw me back into that Rager cell. I dread to think what she might do in retaliation once Remus leaves. Twisted as it may be, he seems to be the lesser evil.
A knife this small will do little against the beastly Titus, however, which leaves me in a position of choosing to stay to exact vengeance for Will, or escaping to avoid impregnation by a psychopath.
I can’t risk losing the opportunity for freedom. Even if I’ve no idea what lies beyond this place, at least I’ll be free. And Will would understand. In fact, I believe he’s watching over me, hoping I get the hell out of this place. At least one of us should.
I exit the cell and pad quietly toward the front entrance. Only two guards pace the perimeter fence.
Odd.
With the knife tucked at my side, I sneak out of the entrance, eyes scanning
for more guards at the front and any that might be behind me. Every nerve is a livewire, waiting for the signal to run, if I have to. The welts on my back are a reminder that this will probably be an excruciating escape, but with Remus leaving at first light, I’m not willing to risk another couple days in a Rager cage, if Agatha suddenly gets a wild hair and decides to finish me off this time.
Without so much as a glance my way, the guards continue to pace and chat. Not that they have reason to worry about anyone escaping this place, given what Tom told me about the likelihood of surviving that jump.
I don’t care, though.
I’d take my chances drowning than risk the same fate as Lindsay. And with what happened to Gwen back at that cave, it surprises me she survived.
Upon reaching the corner of the building, I do one more quick scan before ducking behind the bushes where I left the sheet rope.
The sheet rope that isn’t there.
I fall to my knees, searching beneath the shrub branches for the damn thing.
“Looking for something, Dove?”
Crystals of fear climb my spine, freezing me in place. I slowly turn to find Remus standing behind me, holding up the very thing I’m looking for.
“Clever, you. I didn’t even think of the sheets.”
When I push to my feet, I find Tom staring back with a remorseful expression that confesses his guilt, and behind him is Titus. My chest clamps around my lungs, while I try to imagine what Remus has in mind. Will they toss me over the edge of the cliff? Have Titus rape me in front of all the guards in fun?
Given the arrogant tip of his chin, Remus is loving every second of this, my nervous contemplation. “Step out in the open where we can talk to you.”
Much as I want to tell him to go to hell, I’m now well-versed in the consequences of defiance, so I step out from my hiding spot, into the open. The breeze from the open water stirs up my hair, and feels about ten degrees cooler than before.