Dawn of Dae

by R. J. Blain

  “I suppose you can tell me later,” he announced.

  I longed to beat him for his smugness and superiority he displayed whenever he opened his mouth. I wanted to kick him until he pleaded for mercy and apologized for treating me like I was his property.

  An unreasonable, unwanted part of me noticed he implied it was okay if I wore his underwear.

  Instead of raging at him like I wanted, I slumped against him, mumbling curses at my weakness. I was too tired to fight him. I knew it, he knew it, and he, at least, had the basic decency to keep from rubbing it in my face. I’d pay him back for it later, when I wasn’t so cold and tired and he wasn’t quite so warm and doing a good job of keeping me from falling on my face.

  I surrendered with a weary sigh.

  When Rob realized I could barely stand on my own, he stooped, slid his arms beneath my knees and back, and picked me up. If my weight bothered him, he showed no sign of it. He didn’t even grunt when he shifted me in his arms to secure his hold on me. Colby bounced at Rob’s feet.

  “Mommy!”

  “You’re not injured, dying, or otherwise indisposed. Walk,” the dae replied.

  “Mommy,” Colby whined.

  “No, Colby. Go make certain there’s no one on the roof so I can get us to the car intact.”

  Colby flattened itself to the asphalt before bouncing up the alley walls to the rooftop, leaving bright-colored smears on the bricks. I stared at one of the spots, blinking several times.

  The stain glowed.

  “Car?” I mumbled.

  “It is a device that uses wheels to transport people and their things from one point to another,” Rob replied, his tone light with amusement. “It’s much easier to travel long distances in such a vehicle than it is to try crossing the entirety of Baltimore on foot. You really should have at least stolen some shoes, Miss Daegberht.”

  “Mommy!” Colby announced from the nearest rooftop.

  Consciousness chose that moment to be a fickle mistress, and when I next blinked, I was sprawled on a leather seat with Rob leaning over me. I drifted, not quite connected to my body. I recognized the sensation, but I couldn’t figure out when I had experienced it before. A bright light flashed in my eyes, and I realized I was in a car and its interior light was on.

  Rob’s hand pressed to my throat.

  The memory of Arthur’s touch suffocating me stole my breath, and I tensed from fear. Instead of the asphyxiating pain, Rob’s hand was soothingly warm. When he noticed me staring at him, he smiled. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I mumbled back.

  “You’ve been ill-treated, Miss Daegberht. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what you have done to your left wrist.” Rob had a first-aid kit on the dashboard and my left arm was in his other hand. I couldn’t feel where he was touching my arm. I stared at where his fingers pressed against me. Instead of the redness I expected, my bronzed tan was far paler than normal and had taken on an ashen hue.

  I had done a hell of a number on my left wrist. I shuddered and averted my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at the gouges. “Rusty nail.”

  The dae’s eyes widened, and for a long moment, he stared at my arm. “You did this to yourself.”

  What I had done to myself was safe territory. As long as he didn’t ask about Arthur, I could endure Rob’s criticism. “So what?”

  I hadn’t seen any other choice, though I didn’t say so. It wasn’t any of his business.

  “Couldn’t you have used something more sanitary than a rusty nail, Miss Daegberht?” Rob shook his head, sighed, and released me so he could pull a small white box out of the kit. “It is a good thing I came prepared, then. You can thank me later.”

  “Who’d thank you?” I muttered.

  He laughed, opening the box to reveal a collection of syringes. Each one had a label tied to its plunger. He sorted through them, selecting several before returning the box to the kit. “I hope you aren’t afraid of needles. Who knows what other unhealthy things you decided to roll in while you were gone. Better safe than sorry.”

  After having kicked my habits, I resisted using basic painkillers, let alone the potent narcotics the elite could acquire from hospitals when needed. I blinked, realizing he had already dosed me with something.

  I didn’t hurt. I wasn’t thinking too clearly, either.

  “What’re those?” I demanded, and my tongue refused to cooperate with me. I sounded like I had consumed several bottles of hard liquor on an empty stomach.

  Great. The last thing I needed was to relapse on top of everything else.

  “You’re currently on a heavy dose of antihistamines to counter the rashes, a half-dose of painkiller, and an antibiotic. These, Miss Daegberht, are vaccines. This one is to prevent tetanus,” he announced, holding up one of the syringes. “Once I have you in a better location, I will pump the rest of them into you. I won’t accept no for an answer, so you may as well get used to the idea.”

  “Don’t do drugs no more,” I mumbled.

  “I am quite aware of your history. Mr. Smith was very forthcoming about your previous habits. He was attempting to discourage me from keeping you, the fool.”

  When I next saw Kenneth Smith, I would strangle the life out of him. I wanted to fight against Rob for having sniffed out information on me, but the medications kept me limp. I had no idea what sort of painkillers he had used on me, but they were strong enough I couldn’t tell if they originated from the black market or from a hospital.

  Black market drugs rarely matched a hospital’s, but it’d been so long since I’d done any I was surprised I was coherent enough to say anything at all.

  Rob turned his attention to my right arm. One by one, he jabbed me with several of the needles. My old habit of falling asleep during an injection kicked in, and I relaxed into the leather and closed my eyes.

  I floated in a soft, warm sea, and the gentle lapping of water roused me. Every muscle in my body was relaxed, and the cottony dullness of a strong high clouded my head.

  It was the sort of hit I had craved for so long after getting clean. I was dimly aware of the fact I would hurt—a lot—once the drugs wore off, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I felt good, and I intended to enjoy every last moment of it.

  When I crashed, I’d crash hard. I acknowledged the truth with pleasant detachment. As long as I floated safe in the embrace of a chemical high, nothing else mattered. While my eyes were open, I wasn’t really registering anything. It was dark, but a faint flickering glow in my peripheral vision teased me.

  I couldn’t tell if it was a drug-induced hallucination coupled with temporary blindness or if it was night. Puzzled, I turned my head, and warm water lapped against my throat and shoulders. I blinked, my gaze focusing on the yellow light.

  It was a candle resting on the edge of a bathtub, a very large one filled with sudsy water. A sweet scent teased my nose, and I breathed in deeply. I recognized the strong notes of lavender coupled with something else. Lilac? Rose?

  I sniffed again, determined to identify the alluring smell.

  “Vanilla,” Rob murmured in my ear. “You’re smelling vanilla.”

  I stiffened, sucking in a breath. “You.”

  “You were mumbling while trying to figure out what you were smelling. It’s lavender and vanilla.”

  Turning my head in the direction of the dae’s voice, I discovered him crouched beside me, his arms resting against the tiled ledge ringing the tub. “Oh.”

  More candles rested on distant counters, and mirrors captured their light and reflected it. The bathroom’s polished floors shimmered in the candlelight.

  Rob propped his chin in the palm of his hand, and in the dim illumination, the way he smiled trimmed at least ten years from his face, leaving him a bit older than me but far younger than my first impression of him. “You were also complaining about how the lights were hurting your eyes. The candles don’t seem to bother you, though. I was warned there would be side effects of the various medicatio
ns I gave you, but I underestimated them.”

  “Where are we?” Although my tongue refused to cooperate with me, I got the question out. I was fairly certain I did so intelligibly, but I had my doubts when Rob hesitated.

  “You were rambling about Gibson Island, so I made a few calls and arranged the use of one of the estates here.”

  I spat curses at myself. Rambling incoherently was part of why I had cleaned up my act. How much had I babbled while under the influence?

  Had I mentioned what Arthur had done to me? I shuddered despite the warmth of the water.

  Rob reached over and brushed my wet hair out of my face. “The only people here are you, me, and Colby. I use the term people rather loosely, of course. I don’t know who you’re worried about, Miss Daegberht, but allow me to reassure you, I have zero intentions of permitting anyone to touch you while you are under my guard. Rest assured, once I find out who injured you like this, I will deal with him. Permanently.”

  The dae’s tone chilled my blood, and the promise of someone’s death darkened his expression and hardened his pale eyes. Swallowing, I slid a little deeper into the tub. At my motion, Rob tensed, but when he was satisfied I wasn’t going to submerge farther than my chin, he relaxed.

  “What did I say?” I demanded, my face heating from my embarrassment.

  “Murder plans, mostly. Unfortunately, you didn’t see fit to say your target’s name. I do not like how much of your attention he has captured.”

  “I’m not your property.”

  “You’re my woman, and I’m not going to let some filthy low-life put his hands on you,” Rob snapped.

  I meant to stand up so I could beat the life out of the dae, but I forgot how drugged I was. I got one foot under me, went to rise, and slipped under the water with a splash and a gurgle.

  Breathing while underwater was stupid, and I knew it the instant I gasped. I thrashed, kicked my feet out, and when I didn’t find the end of the tub, I panicked. Rob grabbed me under my arms and yanked me out of the water. I spluttered and coughed.

  “You didn’t want him touching you,” Rob stated in a cold tone, easing me back into my lounging position in the tub, careful to keep my head above the water. “If you had, it would be another matter entirely.”

  My shame at having fallen victim to Arthur cut off my breath more thoroughly than the water had, and with a shaking hand, I wiped the bubbles off my face. The water was thick with suds, keeping what was left of my decency intact, not that it mattered.

  Rob was right; I hadn’t wanted Arthur touching me, but he had.

  Did it matter who saw me naked anymore, Rob included?

  “Breathe, Miss Daegberht,” Rob ordered. After he was certain I wouldn’t plunge back into the water, he released me, returning to his kneeling position beside the tub with his arms crossed in front of him. “Fact number one: you were kidnapped. Considering the number of dae he killed in the process of taking you and his other victims, it was a situation you simply couldn’t have avoided.”

  I had tried to avoid it, and my embarrassment over having knocked myself out in the attempt roused. I flushed, turning my head so I wouldn’t have to stare at the dae.

  “Fact number two: you fought him. You probably have several cracked ribs, you’re covered in bruises, and you have ripped your fingers and toes to shreds, likely during your escape. I’m very curious to know how you managed to free yourself.”

  “Climbed out the window,” I mumbled.

  “What did you do? Break the glass with your hands and feet? You’ve rubbed the skin on your fingertips right off.”

  “Scaled the wall.”

  Rob reached out, took hold of my chin, and forced me to face him. “On what floor, exactly, was this window?”

  “Windows,” I corrected.

  “Windows. That implies you did this multiple times. Elaborate.”

  I sighed, but because what had happened in the warehouse had nothing to do with how Arthur intended to use me, I couldn’t find a single reasonable excuse to refuse his demand for an explanation. “Got out twice,” I mumbled. “First time, couple of stories up. I scaled the wall. He had locked me in a warehouse. I got away. He caught me after.”

  I shivered, averting my eyes so I wouldn’t have to stare into his questioning gaze.

  “Was that when he beat you?”

  “It was less of a beating and more of an unexpected rendezvous with the pavement. I tried to run. He stopped me.”

  “He stopped you. How?”

  I grumbled curses under my breath. “We had a bit of a scuffle. He grabbed my foot and slammed me to the ground.”

  At least, I didn’t think Arthur had beaten me. I was fairly certain all of the bruising on my chest and ribs had come from hitting the ground so hard. Did slamming someone to the street count as a beating? In a way, it did.

  “As I said, you fought back.” Rob sounded pleased. “Fact number three: you escaped on your own. Of course, I helped. You needed it, Miss Daegberht. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You did more than your fair share of the hard work.”

  “Bullshit,” I muttered.

  “You did get away on your own.” Rob paused, dipped his hand into the tub, and grabbed my left hand, which he lifted out of the water. “Despite yourself.”

  While Arthur had used the cheap bandages reserved for those living in the fringe, Rob had used the expensive stuff on me. I still wasn’t quite sure how the bandages worked, but at first glance, it was difficult to tell the bandages were there; they melded with my skin and like a chameleon, matching my bronzed tones. They covered the worst of the gouges I had inflicted on myself, leaving the smaller scrapes to heal on their own.

  “Second window was three stories up. Guess they didn’t think I’d try it.”

  “I’ll admit, Miss Daegberht, I was rather upset to find you running around wearing another man’s underwear. I burned them. I’ve arranged for suitable attire for you, since you made an error in judgment regarding what is weather appropriate. One would think you were attempting to catch your death from the cold. I’m relieved I thought to grab every preventative vaccine and general medication I could get on such short notice. Considering you ran through the garbage dressed like you were, they were needed.”

  Why was the dae so damned good at pissing me off? The drugs weren’t enough to shield me from my outrage, though they did help me resist the urge to make a second attempt to throttle him.

  Almost drowning once in the bathtub was enough for me.

  To make matters worse, he was right. He didn’t care about my modesty—or lack thereof. I wasn’t sure what his game was, which added to my confusion and annoyance.

  Arthur was easy, if what I had overheard was to be believed. To him, I was a convenient meal. What was Rob’s play?

  What good was I to him?

  “Who cares what I was wearing?” I snapped, and all of my shame welled up. Tears burned in my eyes, and I jerked my head so I wouldn’t have to face him.

  “I care,” he replied, and dunking his arm into the tub, he found the stopper and pulled it out. “What you need is something to eat, another dose of medicine, and sleep. The rest will wait until tomorrow.”

  “Don’t want drugs,” I complained, shivering as the water level in the tub lowered.

  Rob turned around and grabbed a towel. Once the water had finished draining, he draped it over me. “You have nothing to worry about, Miss Daegberht. I’m not going to let you get hooked again, not when you’ve worked so hard to turn yourself into a respectable woman. Now be quiet and dry off unless you want me to do it for you. I don’t mind if you do.”

  The way he smirked at me sent shivers running through me. He didn’t know me. Why did he assume I was a respectable woman?

  I worked for a drug dealer who ruined lives for profit. There was nothing respectable about me. I flushed and grabbed the towel, clutching it to me. Conscious of my nudity, I squirmed and made sure the plush material kept me covered. “Turn around,” I de
manded.

  He obeyed, laughing as he did so. When I finished drying myself off, I managed to climb into the bathrobe he offered—without turning around—on my own. I almost made it out of the tub without his help. The drugs were good, but they weren’t enough to smother the stabbing pain in my feet. I hissed, and in my hurry to shift my weight, I slipped. He grabbed my arm and hauled me to him. With a startled cry, I collided with him. His laughter rumbled in his chest.

  “I’m not this clumsy normally,” I blurted.

  “Of course you aren’t,” he agreed, and as he had in the alley, he picked me up with one arm supporting my back while the other held my knees. “If you were, I would’ve been scraping you off the pavement in some alley somewhere instead of chasing you halfway across Baltimore.”

  I should’ve fought Rob, but the warmth of the bath and the plush texture of the bathrobe conspired with the drugs to steal away my will and lull me sleep.

  Seventeen

  He’s always displeased.

  I had no idea how long I drifted in and out of consciousness, but when I eased out of the drug-induced fog clouding my head, I was lying on the largest bed I’d ever seen. My living room could fit on it with room to spare, and bemused, I rolled over. Soft and warm blankets cocooned me. I wiggled my toes, and while my feet ached, the stabbing pain I expected didn’t manifest.

  I sucked in a breath at the memory of bathing with Rob watching over me. Heat washed over my cheeks and spread through the rest of my body. He had touched me, and it hadn’t hurt.

  In fact, it’d been rather pleasant, not quite as soft or warm as the blankets surrounding me, but close enough. I blamed the drugs lingering in my system.