“It appears to be a normal human, General,” he said, his voice filled with deference, as though he knew that wasn’t the answer Caspian wanted.
“’She,’” I insisted in a hoarse croak, only to be completely ignored.
“A normal human?” The words dripped with disdain. “And that disgusting display a few minutes ago was something one would find in a normal human, was it?”
The underling cleared his throat. “Clearly not, General. As you said earlier, that is a demonic attribute, but I am certain the creature is not a true cambion. I have no explanation.”
The ringing in my skull was subsiding, dizziness giving way to a throbbing ache in my jaw that pulsed in time with my heartbeat. I wanted to shake my head in an attempt to clear it further, but I couldn’t even move that much, bound to the wall as I was.
“Then find an explanation!” Caspian demanded. “Why do you think I brought you here in the first place? Somehow, the demons have discovered a way to seed their filth through more than a single generation. I must know what it is.”
His companion hesitated. “The only approach I can think of which might be effective would be delving directly into the core of its magical nature. It would take extensive time and energy, and I can’t guarantee that the creature would not be permanently damaged, depending on the depth at which its magic lies and the amount of protection around it.”
Caspian sneered. “Do it.”
And with that careless command began the worst experience of my twenty-six years of life. Worse than my father’s cold dismissal. Worse than knowing I’d betrayed Rans’ trust in order to protect him. Worse than the feeling as I stepped through the gate between Earth and Dhuinne with the sure knowledge that I would never see home again.
Worse than seeing my mother killed.
A week ago, I had no idea that magic existed inside me at all. I thought I was normal, at least for a given definition of normal—a sickly, slightly messed up woman with a tragic past, who never really fit in anywhere. Now, I was about to learn the lengths my body would go to in an attempt to protect the magic inside me from attack by an outsider.
I had no frame of reference for what Caspian’s spell-wielding underling was doing, beyond the few instances I’d seen of Fae magic being performed to make portals, change a person’s appearance, or restrain someone. At first, he retreated to the far side of the cramped cell and turned away. His head was bowed, and I could hear him muttering more mysterious words. A faint glow began to emanate from his entire body.
My attention was caught between whatever he was doing, and my instinctive feeling of repulsion as Caspian stared at me like he could peel back the layers of my clothing and skin with his eyes. When Fae Two turned to face me again and came closer, he was still surrounded by that pale halo of light.
I braced myself, not knowing what I was bracing against. The light gathered into a bright point in the center of the Fae’s forehead—the place one of my yoga instructors called the third eye. I tried to flinch back as the glow began to pour out of him and toward me, but there was no place for me to go.
At first, I felt nothing when it touched me in the same place on my forehead and sank into my skin. Then, I felt warmth. Then, tingling. The tingling became burning, and the burning became a metal spike driving through my skull.
“Stop resisting, demonkin,” my Fae tormenter said through gritted teeth. “You will only damage yourself.”
It was the first time he’d addressed me directly, but somehow I couldn’t get too excited about it with his creepy magic drilling a hole through my head.
“I’m not doing a damn thing, you fucker,” I snarled. “Stop hurting me!”
He didn’t stop.
All sense of time disappeared as the magical probing continued. It grew more insistent as the Fae evidently failed to get whatever the hell he was after. I could track his growing frustration by the amount of pain I was in, and I had a horrible suspicion that what felt like hours of agony had in reality been only moments.
When my head didn’t yield whatever information he was after, the attack moved to a spot at the base of my neck. I was already desperately thirsty, my throat dry and aching. Now, it was on fire. I choked, trying to force air past the furnace blocking my trachea as I squirmed and writhed in a useless panic.
“The bloodsucker has fed from her neck recently,” came the Fae’s distant voice. “More than once, I think.”
“What do I care about that?” Caspian snapped from someplace to my right. “It has no bearing on how she originally came to exist. Keep going!”
For some reason, it enraged me that Fae Two could know something like that about me without me telling him. The anger tangled with my panic at not being able to breathe properly. I tried to snarl, to yell and curse at them both, but the attempt only set me to choking harder. My lungs burned and seized until I was sure I would pass out, but before that happened, the magical attack moved lower.
Now, the Fae’s magic focused on the center of my breastbone, sinking through skin and bone to wrap around my heart. I tried to drag air past the sandpaper ruin of my throat, while my pulse skipped and thudded like a heart attack victim’s. My tormenter might as well be driving a blade into the beating flesh… or wrapping it in barbed wire that ripped into the muscle with every throb.
I still didn’t have enough air to yell, but a terrible groan wrenched free from my throat. The torture continued until I was sure my heart must be a burned and bleeding mass of gristle inside my chest, managing only one beat out of every two or three I should have felt. I hung from the wall, more pathetic noises choking free from my lips, wishing desperately that I were a vampire so I wouldn’t have to feel my tortured heart fighting to pump blood and life through my body.
The flow of magic moved yet again, settling into position over my navel and flowing inside to twist my guts into knots. I retched, bile clawing its way up my abused throat, though there was almost nothing in my stomach after well over a day without food or water. The agony in my intestines made me lightheaded, but through the vertigo and disorientation, something clicked into place as I remembered thinking about my yoga instructor earlier. The Fae was attacking my chakra points, from top to bottom. Which meant that next—
The burning magic moved lower, wrapping around the place deep inside me that throbbed and pulled at Rans’ animus when we were together. The place that sucked at other people’s energy and dragged it into me to sustain me. The Fae probed and squeezed, trying to draw out the secrets buried there.
All of my muscles started jerking like a palsy victim’s, and a horrible, high-pitched noise slipped free of my lips.
“It is still resisting, General.” I was barely aware of the strain coloring the Fae’s voice as my body fought against the intrusion.
“Push harder!” Caspian’s words sounded blurred around the edges as my hearing faded in and out.
The sensation intensified, and I screamed, forcing the sound past my ruined throat, heedless of the additional agony it caused. I screamed and screamed, and kept screaming until darkness closed around the edges of my vision and my hearing faded away to nothing.
I was barely aware of the magical bindings holding me to the wall disappearing some unknown amount of time later. Then I was falling, and the final sparks of consciousness deserted me before the impact of my body hitting the packed dirt floor registered.
THIRTEEN
THIRST. THAT WAS THE first thing that registered when I next regained awareness of my surroundings. I thought I’d known what it felt like to be thirsty after spending hot and humid St. Louis afternoons outside in the baking sun. I thought I’d known what it felt like to be hungry after sometimes skipping breakfast and lunch because I was running late and had work to catch up at MMHA.
I’d been a fool.
My body was howling at me… wailing in the same way my voice had been wailing as Caspian’s underling pulled and hacked at my succubus powers with his magic. This was the kind of thirst that
killed. The kind of hunger that made humans into ravenous animals. I imagined that plane crash victims who turned to cannibalism to survive felt hunger like this as they looked at their victims’ bodies.
At first, I thought it was the ache of thirst that roused me from unconsciousness. But that wasn’t it. Cold rain was falling into the tree-trunk cell again, as though to taunt me. With a hoarse groan, I managed to flop onto my back. I stretched my mouth open as wide as I could, the occasional cool splatter falling against my tongue.
My shoulder had bumped against something when I rolled over. Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating my darkened surroundings, and I saw the water-gourd along with a freshly wrapped parcel that must be more bread lying next to me. My stomach cramped with need.
Could drinking and eating the Fae gifts possibly make things worse than they were already? What could happen to me that would be worse than what had already happened? Worse than the terrible, tender pain inside me where my tormenter had tried to tear part of me out by the roots? I would die if I didn’t get more water than the steady drizzle could provide.
Tears tried to spring to my eyes and I blinked them back ruthlessly, unwilling to waste whatever small reserves of moisture remained in my body. I pictured Caspian leering down at me, waiting with glee for my resolve to break. Anger flared like a raging fire, and I struck out with my arm. The impact knocked the gourd across the cell. I heard water glugging—either the container had cracked or the cork had come out, and now the water was seeping away to join the raindrops in the dirt below me.
Temptation removed.
I knocked the bread away next, though it didn’t roll very far. It didn’t matter. Even if the drizzle had dampened it through its paper wrapper, I was pretty sure I couldn’t swallow it successfully without some liquid to moisten my mouth and throat first.
My body shuddered from a combination of cold and exhaustion. The mud I was lying on leached the heat from my muscles, and I felt like I’d been awake for days despite the long hours I’d apparently spent unconscious. My chattering teeth aggravated the pounding headache throbbing behind my temples. I opened my mouth again to the rain to stop my teeth repeatedly crashing against each other.
I tried to take stock. It was difficult for me to feel much about my succubus nature when I wasn’t actively drawing animus from someone. For an instant, my mind flashed back to Rans, his eyes closed in ecstasy as he came inside me; the feeling of complete safety and satisfaction I’d felt in his arms on the handful of occasions after we’d pleasured each other. Again, tears pricked behind my eyes, stinging like acid.
Had Caspian and his lackey succeeded at whatever they’d been trying to do to me? I didn’t think so. If they’d really ripped out my magic somehow, that part of me wouldn’t feel so tender and abused. At least, that’s what I was going to continue telling myself.
I kept my mouth wide open to the rain as I pondered, hoping that only water would fall into it and not, y’know, bird poop or something. But now the shower was easing off, and the steady drip-drip-drip had barely been enough to wet my mouth, much less for me to swallow any appreciable amount of it.
Out of sheer desperation, I marshaled what strength I could and scooted around until my face was pressed against the wall. It was damp from the rivulets of rain dripping down, so I started licking. Not even the threat of splinters in my tongue was enough to discourage me from lapping up every resin-flavored drop of moisture I could reach.
A brief flash of worry that Fae rain might still count as a gift flickered across my thoughts, but it was clear the rain had been meant as another torment rather than a blessing. Besides, it was too late. Once the first drop slid across my tongue, it was done, one way or another.
Too late, it occurred to me that the cessation of the rain might herald something else. By necessity, I’d let my body fall back to the ground once I’d licked up all the moisture I could reach from the wall. My shivering was bad enough that I didn’t notice the return of my invisible, scurrying companions from the previous night until one skittered across the bare skin of my hand.
I would’ve shrieked, but all that emerged from my dry throat was a choked wheeze. Suddenly, they were all over me, and I was too weak to lunge to my feet and shake them off—whatever they were. I tried to flail, but just ended up flopping around a bit like a broken marionette. Panic clawed at me, the instinctive human fear of small things with scurrying legs.
The bread, I remembered. They were probably after the bread, not me.
Focusing what little strength I had, I shuffled toward where I thought the bread had ended up and felt around until my forearm brushed it, trying to ignore the scuttling around me. I grabbed the loaf, gritting my teeth when several somethings wriggled out from beneath my grip. I’d been right—the paper wrapping was gone and I could feel holes eaten through the crust.
I threw it across the cell, hearing a soft thump-plop noise. Though I hadn’t been trying to, I must’ve slam-dunked it right into the shit-pit. The idea was a bit stomach-turning, but I stopped caring about that when—a few moments later—all of the sounds of rustling headed for that side of the hollow tree and stayed there.
Whatever the things were, I hoped they all came down with horrible E. coli infections and died before morning.
With the excitement evidently over, I lay trembling on the ground in a fetal position, wishing desperately that I could fall asleep and knowing it was completely hopeless. As I had the previous night, I drifted in and out of a semi-aware state, dreading what the morning might bring.
* * *
Unsurprisingly, the morning brought Caspian’s return. A portal sizzled into existence, dragging my fractured awareness back to the here-and-now. The floating ball of light whizzed through, dazzling my exhausted eyes, and Caspian followed.
He did not make the gesture I’d noticed other Fae use to close the portal, but it snapped shut behind him nonetheless. I forced my sluggish mind to think back over my unpleasant association with the man in front of me, connections slipping into place.
I ran my tongue over the roof of my mouth, testing whether I had enough saliva to speak. “Where’s your torture expert this morning, Golden Boy?” I rasped.
Caspian’s eyes took in the cracked water gourd lying at the base of the wall before returning to me with a look of utter contempt. I could imagine what he was seeing—muddy clothing, bruised jaw, red eyes, cracked lips.
“He’ll be along in a few minutes to pick up where we left off yesterday,” the Fae said. His lips twisted as though addressing me directly left a bad taste in his mouth. “I came ahead to explain what awaits you if you continue to resist Reefe’s attempts to scrive your magical core.”
I stared at him, willing myself not to break eye contact. “You can’t do magic, can you?” I asked in a hoarse voice. “Not the shiny, exciting kind, anyway. That wasn’t even your portal just now, was it?”
If not for the faint tightening at the edge of his jaw, I’d have thought he was ignoring my words completely.
“Today,” he continued, “we will not waste more time beating around the bush. The source of your foul energy is clear enough. I will find out what lies beneath the demon taint, if I have to tear pieces of you out by the roots one-by-one to do so.”
“But it won’t be you doing the tearing, now will it?” I shot back. “You have to bring in someone else to help with that part. What’s the deal? Did you spend too much time playing human on Earth, or something? Though that didn’t seem to stop Albigard from being a magical badass—”
Caspian stepped forward until he was looming over me. Idly, I wished for enough strength to swing a foot up and kick him in the nuts. Did Fae have testicles? I hoped I’d have a chance to find out before I died.
“Once your broken body has given up the last of its secrets, you will be taken away and euthanized like the misbegotten beast you are. I shall take great satisfaction in watching the surprise on your face as your decapitated head hits the ground and rolls away
.”
I peered up at him, my weakness making me strangely numb to fear. “What did I ever do to piss on your cornflakes, Caspian? I mean… seriously.”
Caspian drew breath—to answer, or maybe to spit on me. I wasn’t sure. Before he could do either, though, the portal opened again and Fae Two stepped through, closing it behind him with a wave. I took some slight satisfaction in the fact that he looked like shit, at least for a Fae—way less unruffled and iridescent than his boss, for instance. Instead, he looked flustered and like he was in need of a good night’s sleep.
Caspian subsided, stepping away to address his underling instead. “Don’t bother binding it to the wall today,” he said. “I think the filth on the floor will do just fine for such a creature.”
Did the second Fae look a bit troubled at that, or was I just imagining things? It didn’t matter. A moment later, a wave of magic hit me, gluing me to the damp, chilly mud as effectively as I’d been pinned to the wall yesterday.
“I really, really hate this, you know,” I told the floating ball of light hovering above the ugly tableau the three of us made.
Next came the warding coils, and then, the pain. Caspian hadn’t been lying—Fae Two—or Reefe, or whatever he was called—went straight for the place in my pelvis that still ached from the previous day’s torture. The feeling yanked fresh screams from my throat, just as it had before. But even after the pitiful amount of rainwater I’d managed to lick up, I was still most of a day further along in the process of dying of thirst.
And I have to say, trying to scream while being physically unable to do more than wheeze and choke might just be the most horrible feeling a human being is capable of experiencing. Because while Caspian and his cronies considered me nothing more than a monstrous mistake, in my head, I was still just a human girl who’d been dragged headfirst into something far, far beyond her depth.
“We can keep this up all day if necessary, demonkin,” Caspian growled.
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