The Caelian Cycle Boxed Set

by Donnielle Tyner

  Kian was poisoned. His status unknown. Two norms captured me with the intention of injecting me as well. Said they needed me. I have no idea where I am or how long I have been asleep. What do they want from me?

  The methodical run-down of events gave me the sense of control in an environment where it was clear that I had none. Heat from the large lamps beat against my skin, adding to the warmth generated by my rapidly beating heart Beads of sweat formed on my brow and dripped down my neck. It was then I noticed that my white shirt was soaked with sweat, every small detail of my lacy bra visible in the harsh glow of the lights. Sweat dripped from the tip of my nose as I looked down. My pants and boots were missing, leaving me in a pair of black boy shorts. I licked my cracked lips with a tongue that felt like sandpaper.

  What are they going to do to me?

  As soon as the thought crossed my mind, the screech of a bolt lock sliding open filled the silence, followed by the pop of a door opening. Multiple pairs of feet scuffled into the room, but they kept their bodies hidden behind the lights. My Talent buzzed beneath my skin.

  The bald man from earlier walked forward. He was wearing the exact same outfit, except the hoodie. His smooth head shone in the bright light and I had a flashback to how he had looked in the moonlight. The bald man grabbed a metal chair and dragged it to a stop in front of me then straddled it. He regarded me for a moment with his dull green eyes before leaning forward and resting his meaty arms on the back of the chair.

  “Are you uncomfortable?” he asked, lips turned into a sneer.

  “Of course I am,” my voice came out scratchy.

  “Good. We can help. If you cooperate.”

  I didn’t reply. A pit in my stomach opened as I looked as his familiar face. Something was nagging at the back of my mind about this guy.

  “We know who you are, killer, and what you are capable of. I’m here to offer you the opportunity to take your Talent and put it to good use.” Disgust dripped from his voice when he mentioned my Talent.

  “That’s the second time you called me killer. Why?” I was stalling and he knew it. Synapses were firing in my brain trying to place where I knew this man.

  “Because that is what you are. A killer. I’ve seen the footage of the mall and of your fight with the Caelian named Link.” He paused for a moment, cocking his head to the side as if he were trying to see me from a different angle. “People around you die. There was that boy Liam. Then your friend Michael. John. And, what was his name. Kian?”

  My body jerked forward. The chair must have been bolted into the ground because it didn’t budge, but the force of my moment caused the metal surrounding my wrists and ankles to rip into the already tender flesh. A gasping sob escaped my throat. Kian can’t be dead. He’s lying.

  “Touchy. Why do the men in your life die, Killer?”

  “Because of assholes like you,” I growled, before my eyes widened. Sudden recognition.

  “Me? Have you finally figured out who you are dealing with?”

  I shook my head no. Not in answer to his question. Disbelief flooded my system, filling me. Choking me. A gargling cough pushed itself out of my throat. This man, he was the start of all my suffering.

  His boisterous laugh filled the room. “I think you have, Killer.”

  “You’re Dean Kerrington, leader of the Human Purist Coalition.” With each word I felt the fight deflate out of me. There was no way I was equipped to fight the HPC. One or two, maybe, but without my Talent, I wouldn’t last two minutes.

  “You seem like a smart girl, Killer, so I’m going to lay it on you straight. You cannot escape. No one knows you are here.”

  “What do you want? Just go ahead and kill me.”

  “We want you alive. You Caelians are a parasite to the human race. You, Killer, have the ability to not only exterminate the enemy, but you can take from them that which makes them different. That is the beauty of your Talent. Your victims suffer the ultimate shame before they take their last breath. It’s the perfect punishment.”

  “I would never—” My head wrenched to the side as the back of his hand made contact with my cheek. Sharp, stinging pain followed as a tear pricked in the corner of my eye. His eyes flared with unrestrained anger.

  “You are not here to negotiate.” He stood all of a sudden and kicked the chair back into the blackness. His large frame loomed with malice above me. “Bring in the prisoner.”

  Two men pulled a sagging figure forward and threw them on the ground as if they were a piece of trash. The lithe frame shook with sobs. Long golden hair the exact color of Kian’s was splayed across the concrete in greasy knots. My stomach sank as the realization of who was slumped at my feet sank in.

  Dean grabbed a handful of her dirty hair and pulled, forcing Laura Lane, Kian’s mother and head of the Lane family council, to an uncomfortable sitting position. Her face was gaunt from obvious starvation. A fresh bruise swelled one eye shut, while the other was filled with resignation.

  “Drain her.”

  “No.”

  One of the men from earlier stepped into the light and punched me in the stomach, all the air forced out of my lungs. I struggled to re-fill them.

  “Drain her.”

  “No,” I wheezed.

  Another slap to the face split my dry lips. Blood dribbled down my chin, but I kept my eyes on the woman who looked so much like the man I loved. Kian may have resented his family for their abandonment, but they were still his family and there was no way in hell I’d hurt his mother. I wanted to tell her that I knew him, but it would only cause more pain.

  My ear rang as the man’s palm made contact with it before he grabbed a handful of my hair, wrenching my neck back until we were face to face. His sour breath assaulted my nose in toxic clouds, giving my gag reflex a workout.

  “Drain her,” his deep voice demanded. That voice. He was the accomplice who had assisted in my capture. My mind seared his features into memory. His hold on my hair was tight, but I was able to shake my head no. His lips pursed before he turned to Dean. “Maybe there are other ways to get her to obey.”

  His eyes flashed with unrestrained lust as his hungry gaze dipped lower. I felt my body stiffen. The contents of my stomach surged upward, settling in my throat. Slamming my eyes shut, it became overwhelmingly clear just how vulnerable I was.

  “You do that and you will break her beyond repair,” a soft feminine voice called out from the darkness. “This one will take time.”

  “We don’t have time,” Dean growled through gritted teeth. The accomplice released my hair and I rotated my neck trying to locate the female.

  “You will if you want her to obey.”

  “Come on over here, girl.” Dean reached out toward the sound of the voice. My jaw hit my chest as a petite girl, maybe 13 years old, stepped into the light. It wasn’t her size that shocked me to my core, but it was the sky blue hair and silver eyes. She was Caelian.

  Dean grabbed her wrist and roughly pulled her in the rest of the way. He noticed my shocked expression and smirked. “This here is my daughter, Mae.”

  “Why?” I croaked.

  “When she was born my wife wanted to give her to an orphanage, but I know what would have happened. She would get an education, join a family, get married and produce more Caelian trash. She, like you, is a genetic anomaly and needs to be exterminated, but I kept her around to see what she could do with that alien DNA.” A sinister grin spread slowly across his lips. Mae’s face was stoic as if she had heard this speech a million times before. “Her Talent is useful, after all. She can psychically connect with other Caelians and tell me what their intentions are. We give her lots of practice in hopes she will be able to control others.”

  “Aren’t you afraid she’ll rebel against you?”

  Laughter erupted around the room. Dean slapped his leg before swallowing another bout of laughter. “She’s been trained and knows better.” My heart fell for the tiny girl. What a misfortune to be born to a man such as Dean.
I flared my secondary and saw Mae’s silver Talent dancing next to mine. Her Talent was large and bright compared to most Caelians and I wondered what that meant. Mae’s silver eyes met mine and I saw recognition before a flash of emotion akin to rage blazed bright for a fleeting moment. I knew I saw her anger even if the others in the room didn’t notice. They must assume that she was a compliant little slave instead of this powerful, beautiful person.

  Mae and I stared at each other, unspoken understanding passing between us.

  I am your ally. I cannot help you out of here, but I will do what little I can. You must endure. A small voice echoed in my mind and I forced any physical reaction to the invasion down and continued to stare at Mae. She stood stoic and gave no indication that she had projected her thoughts directly into my head.

  This girl saved me from that man’s lustful intentions. I am forever indebted to her, I thought before Dean’s booming voice interrupted my musings.

  “Mae! What is her weakness?”

  “The people she loves, but you will not get to them now that you have her. The Underground will guard their own.”

  A frustrated growl exploded from Dean as he began pacing the room, stepping on Mrs. Lane’s fingers. He kept pacing without regard to her strangled cries. My eyes drooped from a sudden fatigue. I was almost asleep when meaty fingers grabbed my jaw, pulling it up to face Dean. He cocked his head as his slimy gaze traveled my body. “You will have to be trained and when we are done, you will obey and drain the Lane woman.”

  “I won’t.” My voice wavered as the scuffling of feet filled the silence.

  “You have no idea what is in store for you, Killer.” Dean’s wicked grin was the last thing I saw before a dark cloth draped over my head. Cold metal pressed against the skin of my thigh before fire shot through my body. My muscles stiffened and then shook, losing control of my body as the electrical current flooded my system.

  My body slumped in relief as soon as they removed the device from my leg. I barely had time to enjoy my reprieve when the cold metal found my arm, flooding my system with another round of stinging pain.

  I lost track of how many times the taser touched my skin. My mind was clear during each attack, but I couldn’t hold on to a single thought while the electricity flooded every cell in my body.

  I felt my weakened body being lifted off the chair and moved. Every muscle from my legs, right down to my eyelids were sore as if I had finished a triathlon without the proper training. The swaying motion of being dangled between two bodies caused nauseous waves to flood my system.

  With a grunt, the men threw me onto the concrete floor. With my arms still secured behind my back, I landed on my face. Pain blossomed on my cheek as it took the brunt of my weight. I heard the creaking groan from an old door open before one pair of hands were on my arms again. The other grabbed my feet and between the two of them they folded me into a cramped space.

  Once settled, the cloth was removed from my head and the last thing I saw was the accomplice’s face. His lips pursed, blowing me a kiss before they curled into a sinister sneer. He slammed the metal door closed, locking me in a cramped box. Every inch of my exposed body was pressed into the cold metal of my tiny prison, while my thighs were pushed into my torso, the pressure making it difficult to breathe. I tried to find a more comfortable position, but my wrists and ankles were still shackled together; there was no way I could move.

  Knees to my chin, I relaxed as much as my cramped quarters allowed. Succumbing to the overbearing fatigue I had been keeping at bay, I slept.

  Chapter 27

  The screech of a lock sliding woke me from a fitful slumber. Every muscle in my body ached and my joints were stiff from being stuck in one position for god knows how long. I couldn’t tell how long I had been imprisoned inside the box. Long enough to have three meals tossed in to where I couldn’t reach them. Forced to smell the deliciousness and feel the pain of my empty stomach.

  “Morning, Killer. Are you ready to comply?”

  I licked my lips with a dry tongue. “No.” My voice sounded like I had swallowed sand.

  “She needs water.” Mae’s voice rang from somewhere outside my cramped prison. “If you don’t let her have water, she will die.”

  The door opened and I blinked my eyes from the assault of light. I was pulled from the box roughly and thrown on the ground, still curled into a tight ball. My muscles wanted to stretch but my joints protested every move. With great care, I extended my legs, biting back a scream. The pain was almost unbearable.

  Large hands grabbed my hair and pulled, forcing my face upwards. A cup was placed against my lips and lukewarm water dribbled into my mouth. I swallowed with slow, small sips even though I wanted to gulp it down. The feel of water trickling down my throat rejuvenated my weak body and lifted my spirits. I felt much better.

  “Give the Killer something to eat before phase two,” a disembodied voice called out from outside the room. Killer. That was what Dean had decided my new name was going to be. No one was allowed to call me anything but that demeaning label. I knew what he was trying to do. He wanted to break my spirit.

  I’m tougher than I look.

  A bowl of what looked like soggy oatmeal appeared in front of me and I eyed the meal with freezing contempt while my captors unlocked my arms. This slop wasn’t like the aromatic foods they had thrown into the box trying to entice me and I wondered if it was poison. With protest from my sore arms, I reached for the bowl and sniffed the gross concoction. There was no distinctive smell other than an earthy wheat odor. My stomach growled and without any more reservation, I ate. The bland food stuck to my throat, but I ate every bite, for I knew that my troubles were not over.

  The empty bowl was ripped from my hand while another pair of arms yanked my body up until I was standing.

  “Will you drain Laura Lane?” The accomplice asked. His hands were behind his back as he paced in front of me.

  “No.” My voice sounded much stronger after the water and food.

  His hands reached around his bulky frame. The muscles in his biceps flexed as he tugged something out of a sheath tied to his back. In his hand was what looked like a bamboo stick cut in half. He gave a few practice swings in front of me, making sure I heard the unnerving whistle of the pole as it sliced through the air.

  “Will you drain Laura Lane?”

  “No,” I whispered, bracing myself for the blow I knew would come.

  The pole whistled through the air before a loud WHACK resounded through the room. Slicing pain exploded from my calves, tingling outward in a wild dance of fire and ice. He repeated his question, but I gave the same answer. He replied with another slap across my back.

  A strangled scream tore from my lips as fire exploded from the impact. I felt warm liquid drain down my legs as I unconsciously relieved my bladder. Round and round we went until my screams diminished. Numbness took over and with each strike, I withdrew deeper into my mind until I was numb to the pain, but still cognizant enough to feel the weight of each strike. I stayed there enjoying the reprieve, not even caring to notice when he stopped.

  Once he was finished, another man walked into the room. Together they re-cuffed my hands, this time in front. They hooked the cuffs to a chain dangling from a pulley system attached to one of the thick metal beams crossing the ceiling. A jaw-clenching screech reverberated off the concrete walls before the mechanism lifted until my body stretched to its limits, stressing the ligaments in my shoulders and only allowing the balls of my feet to graze the ground.

  “Remove her shirt.” The accomplice sneered as the other man took a knife out of his pocket and cut my shirt away. Both men took a step back and leered at me as I hung from the ceiling in nothing but my underwear.

  “Clean her.” The other man stepped out and brought in two buckets of water and splashed both over my head, drenching my entire body. My lungs emptied of air in a sudden ‘whoosh’ from the icy water. After the shock, the chilly liquid soothed some of the raised w
elts as it flowed to the floor. Satisfied, the accomplice walked over to the wall and pressed a couple of buttons on a screen. The technology was surprising and looked out of place in this worn down room.

  Ice cold air blasted from the ceiling, chilling me to the bone in an instant. With my arms secured above me I couldn’t wrap them around my body to preserve any residual heat. The cold was intense. Artic fire burned my fingers and face before a prickling numbness settled in.

  “Keep her alive.” The accomplice nodded to someone outside the door before both men left the room.

  When I was finally alone, I allowed myself to cry. This was the worst pain I had ever been in and if I were honest with myself, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could physically last. But one thing I knew for sure, I wouldn’t kill the mother of the man I loved.

  Kian. I had thought about him a lot while I was in the box. Even though Dean had said that he had died and his men tortured me with stories of how they had desecrated his remains, I knew deep down that he must be alive. I had to believe it. Just like I had to believe that Madison was improving with her therapy sessions and Rebecca was successful in learning to walk with her prosthetic, that Luca was being a gentleman and caring for Rebecca. My friends were thriving outside of this hell.

  Splash. Another two buckets of water jolted me from my thoughts and another violent round of shivers tore through my body. Time moved slowly in my frozen purgatory as I floated in and out of consciousness.

  Every other day, the air was turned off allowing my body to warm a little before I was hydrated and fed before asked another round of questions and being beaten when I didn’t answer. Instead, I removed myself from the beatings and focused on my surroundings. From what little I had gathered, I must have been in an abandoned warehouse that had been updated with a few modern conveniences, like the brightly lit panel on the wall.

  Is this the HPC headquarters or just a place they use to torture teenagers and women?