Even so, my hopes weren't set too high. I knew I required a feeding for any major improvements to occur. Still, as I plunged further into a dreamless sleep, my body relaxed and my pain slowly dissipated. It was comforting, in some small way, the knowledge that if I did cease to exist the suffering would go along with it.
I'm uncertain how long I slept; it could've been a couple minutes or a couple hours. Much like my other cement prison, there was no method of gauging the passage of time. Regardless, the screeching of the metal door's hinge eventually woke me as it slid open. A visitor, surely not good.
Nope, definitely not. Instantly, my tension spiked when I recognized Tsedaka. He looked much the same as on the first day we met. Black dress shirt and pants, matching leather shoes, neatly combed brown hair, flecks of gray at his temples, and a face wrought with fine lines.
Unfortunately, however, this time he carried a cat of nine tails in his right hand. The heavy-duty red leather was tied into knots at the ends of each strand; a piece of gear straight from the fetish scene. I should know, several of the dancers performed bondage acts at the club.
"I'm glad you're home, daughter," he sneered, his gravelly voice just as decrepit as I remembered it. "We must talk."
Wavering indecisively, a part of me longed to yell at him and demand that I be released. Nonetheless, I also understood a course of action such as that would be a horrible mistake, for my throat as well as his anger level. And, for once, I actually listened to my more intelligent side. So, I simply kept my mouth shut and gave him the puppy dog face.
"I won't permit you to go on crime sprees throughout my kingdom!" he boomed, his words reverberating into my bones. "You left this facility despite my express orders, created an unsanctioned vampire, robbed a bank, and then killed my favorite niece along with three of her guards. You will answer for these crimes!"
Yep, that was it; I couldn't hold myself back for another second. I had to object to his demented logic, no matter the consequences. "Look, old man, I never would've done any of that if you hadn't changed me against my will in the first place," I grumped, speaking softly to accommodate my hoarse, aching throat. "And Isabella, she came after me. I needed to defend my..."
"You didn't have authorization to kill a member of the aristocracy. That privilege is mine and mine alone," he growled, tapping the whip on his leg to emphasize that he held all the power.
"So what?" I quipped, unable to stifle my snarky attitude. "I should've stood there and let her kill me." Anybody in my position would've defended themselves. And it's real convenient how his goons showed up at our hotel room at the exact moment Lucien went to help me. Sure sounds like a coordinated attack to me. The manipulative bastard.
"You were to evade her and seek retribution within my court. That's how we behave in proper vampire society. We aren't a bunch of outlaws. We have rules and they will be followed."
"And that's how my blood slave, Amelia, got killed," I muttered, inadvertently allowing a taste of my grief to sneak past my tough-girl façade. "Your henchmen were following the rules."
"Cause and effect, my child, cause and effect. You chose to leave, subsequently initiating the entire fruitless chain of events. You should've accepted your station and abided by my commands. That's the path of those who are made. I never expected you'd possess this kind of power, enough to outmaneuver my will."
Whatever dude. The more I talked, the more sore my throat became. And besides, there wasn't a bit of use in blabbering on, considering he'd assuredly blame me for everything regardless. As a result, I decided to close my eyes and ignore the world. Perhaps he'd take the hint and leave. Or maybe he'd beat me. Either way, the fight was gradually seeping out of me. I needed food desperately and, as my energy level scraped the bottom of the barrel, sleep was a welcomed respite.
Obviously aware of my solution to our impasse, Tsedaka tried to regain my attention by slapping his leg harder with the whip. "I've put you on a fast, my daughter. Once it's clear you'll make no more escape attempts, I'll help you rebuild a portion of your strength. After which, a formal trial will be held to decide punishment for your grievances against my authority."
Keeping my eyes squeezed shut, I refused to give him the faintest outward indication that I'd heard his little speech. Nevertheless, on the inside my temper boiled. When would somebody punish him for grievances against my humanity? The fucking son of a bitch. And he'd put me on a fast. Yeah, as if! More like I was being starved so I couldn't pull a repeat of the Isabella incident on every vamp here. The cocksucker. If he didn't watch it, I'd...
"I will not tolerate belligerency!" he snapped, seconds ahead of grabbing a handful of my hair, flipping me onto my stomach, and sliding my face sharply into the cement in one swift thrust. "Don't be fooled by my civility, I will break you!" And then he proceeded to whip me. Hard.
"Stop!" I screamed in my loudest raspy voice possible. "Please! Quit! I'm sorry!" And, of course, my begging didn't work. Surprise, surprise. Therefore, as the ordeal exceeded the very definition of agony, I propelled my nonexistent energy into the universe and willed my surroundings to freeze. Notta, zip, zilch. Sadly, I lacked the strength.
On reflex, I wailed as each lash seared the once unmarked skin of my back. And, let me tell you, there were moments where I'd have done the unimaginable to get him to leave me alone. Helplessly, I clung to consciousness by counting the number of times he struck, praying each one would be the last. He kept a steady pace, not pausing for an instant. Fifteen. Twenty-five. Thirty-one. Thirty-five. Finally, he left me to writhe on the floor.
After that, time moved slowly, each breath labored with the weight of my injuries. I felt hopeless, isolated. And I silently cried out for my mom, imagining her warm touch soothing my misery. I wondered how she could've fallen for a guy as horrible as him. He must've used vamp mojo on her; that's the only reasonable explanation. Any person in their right mind can sense that he's the darkest evil, satan incarnate...
Just then, a muffled knock came from my cell's sturdy door, jostling me from my scattered musings. Halfheartedly, I hoped it'd be Lucien or Adrian, there to rescue the princess and save the day. Although, intuitively, I knew that was merely a pipe dream. My life wasn't a fairytale; escaping this mess wouldn't be as easy as before. And, unsurprisingly, my instincts were affirmed when my visitor started to speak.
"Princess, it's Petrus," he whispered, distress heavy in his eyes as he gaped at me through the small window. "I'm putting myself at great risk being here. Nonetheless, I wanted to provide you with a piece of advice."
"P-piss off, you piece of c-crap," I hissed, teeth chattering from shock.
"It's best if you concede to the king's will. Otherwise, he'll keep this up until you're nothing more than a shadow of your former self. I've seen him do this to many. Please, princess, heed my warning."
I rolled my eyes, not caring in the slightest about what my father's lackey had to say. Tsedaka could try to mold me to his will all he wanted. And, sure, I might even act like his mini-me robot if it'd give me an edge. But deep down I'd never surrender my freedom. And, by no means, would I forget how he irreparably destroyed my life.
Still, I decided to use Petrus's presence to my benefit. Maybe, if I played nice and took control of the conversation I'd get a few answers. "Look, if you really w-wanna help, t-tell me of Lucien. Is he alive?"
"Yes, he lives. We're keeping him in a cell at the end of the hall..." Abruptly, he turned from the window to briefly squint into the distance. "I must go, princess, another guard approaches."
"Wait, can you b-bring me some b-blood? I'll die if Tsedaka k-keeps me here without food."
"I apologize. I cannot blatantly disregard the king's orders." And with that, he marched off, disappearing into the maze of tunnels that connected the sections of the facility.
Yet again, I was alone. Alone in my private concrete hell. And, in the face of blinding agony, my thoughts drifted back toward Lucien. If he lived, why couldn't we communicate? We'd al
ways been able to join our minds in the past. Was I too weak? Or was he?
"Lucien! Are you there?" I sent to him, hesitating in the uneasy silence. "Okay, for whatever reason I can't hear you. Although, you might hear me. So, uh, I wanna let you know that we're gonna make it through this, somehow. Thank god you're alive. And, um, I love you."
Halfway into the message, tears began streaming down my cheeks. Accordingly, I basked in relief as a flood of suppressed emotions spilled forth from my soul. Until that moment, I hadn't given myself permission to cry. It would've shown vulnerability to Tsedaka, made me seem weak, easy to manipulate. Now, however, in the solace of my isolation, I could let go.
I allowed my frustrations to pour out of me, my true emotions to surface. Tears and sobs. The fear of being trapped, tortured, and most likely ending up dead. The torment of my throbbing wounds. And mourning over Amelia's unnecessary death. I even felt sadness about Dawn, though I hardly knew her.
How'd my life spiral into this wretched nightmare? Would I ever escape again? And, beyond everything else, how in the world was I gonna continue to resist Tsedaka's brainwashing? Another round or two with the cat of nine tails and I'd surely cave...
Chapter 24
In the torture session's aftermath, I lay on my stomach while I vacillated in the dark space between awareness and unconsciousness. The severity of my back injuries made it so that I couldn't have anything beyond the remnants of my blood caked t-shirt touching them. And, yeah, the shirt had been completely shredded during the whipping, along with my skin.
Time passed agonizingly; each breath inciting sharp spasms in my throat and unbearable twinges throughout the muscles cradling my spine. I prayed for percocet, or morphine, or even heroin. I didn't care which. And, of course, I received no answer. Simply the blinding pain of being awake and the cold emptiness of being asleep.
"Holy hell! What has he done?" a distinctively familiar voice sputtered, jolting me from one of my numerous catnaps.
Cracking open my eyelids, I shifted around just a smidge to squint up at my visitor. "A-Adrian, is th-that you?" I stammered in a raw whisper. "Are you t-truly here?"
Hurriedly, he dropped to his knees, inadvertently letting me see the tears glistening in his eyes. "I would've come sooner, although the king denied approval for my visit until today. I can only stay for the sunlight hours and, since it's already mid-afternoon, that leaves us very little time."
Tentatively, I reached over to touch his black combat boot, feeling as if laying my hands on him might make his presence more real. Honestly, a part of me figured I had to be hallucinating. I mean, I'd called for him on dozens of occasions and he never responded. "H-How long have I b-been here?" I eventually groaned, my disbelief gradually fading.
"Three days. And I'm sorry for that, darling. The moment I experienced your memory of Isabella's attack and William's atrocities, I started devising a plan."
"So, you just got the one m-message? I sent s-several others."
"Merely the one," he affirmed with a brusque nod. "I intend on getting you out of here. Nonetheless, you must understand that I'm alone. Your father prohibited me from bringing a single guard or assistant. If not for the new cluster of black demons in the Denver area, I wouldn't have had an excuse serious enough to require an emergency audience." He paused, obviously clueing in on the fact that my attention was rapidly waning. "At any rate, my main point is that for my plan to succeed, I'll need your help."
"I'm n-not trying to be difficult, but does it look like I can help?" I jested, wrinkling my nose and cracking a half grin at him. I couldn't stop myself. Despite my weakness and everything that'd happened to me, I felt a little giddy. There was hope! I actually might survive!
"First, let's move you toward the door. I don't want the guards to see us from the window," he murmured. Then, in preparation, he pushed his cloak off his head to reveal a ponytail of wavy blonde hair pulled tightly at the base of his neck.
Beneath the expanse of purple velvet, he also sported a trench coat. And, considering it was only late November, I briefly wondered why he'd layered so heavily. The weather didn't get that bad 'til January. Regardless, my inner ramblings were easily forgotten when he reached forward and slid his arms under my belly. Shit! Instantly, my heartbeat boomed and my consciousness teetered on the edge.
"I realize this hurts and it's going to get a whole lot worse. Still, you must remain quiet. Excess noise will cause the guards to check on you. And we don't need them becoming suspicious. That said, if they do come, I'll disappear and return as soon as they're gone. I won't leave high court without you. I promise." He hesitated, his expression exuding concern. "Are you ready?"
"Um, I g-guess," I whimpered, dread permeating my soul.
"Okay, here we go." And with that, he proceeded to gently carry me to the blind spot.
We both ignored my chains as they clanked on the concrete, even though the metallic echoes were shards of glass piercing my skull. All the while, my skin screamed and my vision grew dim. I yearned to shriek every cuss word in the book, to find some method of relieving the unfathomable depths of my suffering. But I didn't. Instead, I gritted my teeth and hoped I'd pass out.
As Adrian steadily sat down, he hugged my trembling body to him like I was an abused child who required the most warmhearted affection. However, in spite of this carefulness, the wounds on my back had reopened and his clothes were now absorbing the dampness.
For a few moments, it was all I could do to simply bury my face in his chest and breathe. I allowed his scent to comfort me, to help me overlook the state of my lacerations. He smelled of home, reminded me of the dreams we'd shared while I slept in the safety of my own bed. And, after a bit, the pain began receding just barely.
"I apologize, darling, we can't wait a second longer," he whispered, lifting up my chin and brushing a couple clumps of hair from my eyes. "You must feed, so you'll regain the ability to stop time."
On cue, my mouth watered and my fangs extended. "Did you, um, bring b-blood with you?" I asked eagerly, glancing at his pockets and praying that I hadn't accidentally crushed even the tiniest portion of smuggled fluid under my weight.
"No, not possible," he replied with a shake of his head. "When the king agreed to the meeting, he put several restrictions in place. Among other things, weapons and food weren't sanctioned. His guards searched me and my helicopter for contraband thoroughly upon arrival. If you can believe it, they actually confiscated the flare gun in my emergency kit."
"Then how am I supposed to f-feed?" I complained, stomach grumbling as my fangs started to retract. And helicopter? Adrian owned and knew how to fly a freaking helicopter? This weird life I'd gotten tangled up in never ceased to amaze...
"You'll need to take nourishment from me," he explained, pushing back the coat and shirt sleeves covering his right wrist.
"Hold on a m-minute, why can't you just poof me outta here?" The idea of feeding from him made me nauseous; I remembered the awful taste of my own vamp blood. And, besides, what if it bonded us in some way? Jeesh. "For real, uh, wouldn't using your p-powers be easier than forcing m-me to snack on you?"
Chuckling softly, he slid his wrist closer to expose a cluster of throbbing blue veins. "If it were feasible, darling. Alas, I'm not nearly as strong as you are. I can move myself and small items, nothing more."
"Won't giving me blood z-zap your energy?"
"Yes, that's why I'm only feeding one of you."
"One of us?" I faltered for a moment, brain foggy, until recognition finally hit. "Oh, you mean Lucien! P-Petrus told me he's alive, yet I haven't c-communicated with him. Is he okay?"
"Once my meeting with Tsedaka ended, I briefly stopped by his cell. I needed to size up the extent of his injuries in order to prepare for our escape. Thankfully, he's capable of fighting..." Abruptly, his words broke off and he tilted his head to the left. He must've been listening to our surroundings because, when he came back to me, his face adopted a new level of intensity. "We have t
o hurry!"
Refusing me any more time to resist, he extended his fangs and chomped a nice-sized gash in his skin. After which, he shoved his wrist into my mouth and held it there, forcing me to swallow as the bitterly alkaloidal taste of his blood trickled across my tongue. All of my senses warned me that it was poison. A corrosive, acid-like substance eating at the tender insides of my throat.
"Quit! No more!" I pleaded in a high-pitched tone as I wrenched my lips free. "It's disgusting! And it hurts!"
"You must," he demanded sternly. "I'm aware that it tastes awful, but it'll heal you. And you have to heal. That said, if I enter your subconscious, I can ease your discomfort as well as the taste."
"My telepathy w-won't work, I'm too weak," I protested. "You won't be able to..."
"Don't worry, I've got quite a few tricks up my sleeve," he reassured, flashing me a playful smile. "Really, it's all about proximity. And, as you take blood from me, our connection will deepen making the process much easier."
Exactly what I wanted to hear, more goddamned bonds. Freaking wonderful. On the one hand, dear old daddy'd torture me and probably kill me; on the other, I'd grow closer to my hubby-to-be. Hmm, like there was a choice. Sigh. "Whatever, g-go ahead and m-mind melt me already."
"As you wish, my love," he beamed, replacing his bleeding wrist over my mouth and solidly meeting my gaze. "Know me."
Immediately, his words pulsated through my very being, inducing visions much the same as when he'd taught me the waltz. However, this time the scenarios were more deliberate, crawling leisurely across my psyche. Furthermore, I didn't completely lose touch with myself. Strangely, his experiences were synergistically woven into my current reality. So, in some far-off capacity, I still tasted his nasty blood and felt the soreness within my throat. Although, now, the whole ordeal had transformed into a much more tolerable situation.
The first memory Adrian showed me was of our prophecy, the one predicting we'd be mates. I saw a man, who Adrian knew to be Michel, standing in front of him with a scruffy gray beard and a shriveled physique.
The Chalice (Luna Vampire Series) Page 21