Jacques grinned. “See you tonight.”
With that, he was gone.
“You’re a good man, Flynn Brogan,” she whispered, allowing her body to slip into the darkness.
He didn't agree.
Flynn was just being a mate.
Nothing more and nothing less.
CHAPTER Seven
1452 Paris, France
Darkness shimmered as pain radiated through her body like a hot, searing poker. Immediately, Jolie was transported back by the smells and sounds of memories long forgotten. Here was her past, staring her down, and it wanted to break her.
No longer was she in the protection of her bed or her mates’ arms. In fact, she was far from anywhere love once lived. When recognition dawned, there was a sick feeling that rolled through her body.
This tiny closet like room, which she had once called prison, was where she spent her days and nights chained like an undesirable.
It was her storage container, if you will, when Goethe would finish his daily fun. After each session, it was back into the closet she would go. Her existence, up to that point, was that of a broken doll, hidden away until needed again.
Sitting up, Jolie could hear the clanking of silver manacles, rubbing raw her already sore wrists. The silver had slowly eaten away at the flesh, causing puss filled sores which hurt nonstop. The stench of the wounds made bile rise up in her throat, as she felt the overwhelming need to purge. Jolie shoved it down deep, knowing this was all just a dream.
There would be an end.
There had to be.
“What do you want from me?” she screamed to her unseen mistress in frustration, sensing there would be no reply. This little puzzle was hers, and hers alone to figure out. Jolie was forced to watch, relive, and feel the horrors as if they would lead to some revelation on her behalf.
Pulling her hands against the shackles, she knew from memory she would be able to get them free, but it would be painful.
Déjà vu.
The tiny room swam around her as she pulled free of her restraints, before lowering them quietly to the floor. All she needed to do was escape the room and leave.
She’d survived this once and knew the way out.
The night she originally lived this very moment, painfully reared its ugly memory. Jolie recalled the day.
It had been particularly brutal.
Goethe was desperate to break her and promised Jolie to his guardians at dusk. There was no way she wished to relive that, so it was now or never. Using what energy was remaining to scan the room, she sought out her target. From memory, she already knew that he would be resting in the bed that he had just used to brutally violate her.
Jolie reached for the locks and flicked them open with her mind. It was now or never. Here was a rare opportunity to escape, so she needed to do it.
Creeping slowly toward the fireplace, Jolie picked up a thick, jagged stick that she could use to drive through his heart. The visual in her head was beautiful. There, she could see herself repeatedly driving the wood into his chest until he was a bloody mess.
Just like she was.
The one hundred and fifty years of rape and abuse was finally coming to an end. Flashing between then and now, Jolie felt compelled to allow the dream to run its course. Who knew what would happen if she altered even one slightest detail?
Death was already screwing with her.
Jolie moved toward the bed, her blood dripping from her wrists in sick, fat rivulets. They hit the ground like little bombs going off in the silence. Little did she recall, that would be the one thing that gave her away to the bastard.
Moving to his side, she raised the stick to impale his heart. The memories flooded back, and she knew what was next.
Jolie braced for it.
Just then, his eyes popped open. Now, Jolie would have to fight for her life, just like she had back then. History repeated itself and so did hell.
The swing of his arm made contact across her fragile bones. With one swipe, Goethe knocked her across the room. Her body met the rock wall as pain radiated through her.
Jolie gasped in anguish.
Yeah, she remembered all of this, and it still sucked.
As she slid down the wall, which framed the fireplace, Jolie struggled to recall what happened next.
Oh yeah. This is where he would kill her.
Goethe was out of the bed and on her so fast, that she couldn’t even find the stick she had planned on using as a weapon. Her memories wavered as she was sucked into the moment. The past became the present, and Jolie was living her scariest moments.
She could feel Death calling to her.
Goethe stared down into her face. “If you wanted more of me little one, I would have gladly granted your wish,” he hissed, dragging her broken body under his. When he began painfully groping her damaged flesh, Jolie wanted to weep.
As he prepared to rape her again, Jolie screamed. The will to fight welled up, despite the fact that the room wavered around her.
Jolie struggled. How did she kill him?
She needed to know.
Reaching back into her memories, she found her answer. Beside her, off to the side of the fireplace, Jolie saw the wooden stick. Yes, she staked him to death, but not in bed.
This was how it happened.
Suddenly, he buried himself in her body, and she wanted to get the hell out of there. “Flynn, Jacques, I need you,” she screamed, trying to ignore his disgusting body over hers. It sickened her that someone else was touching her.
She belonged to her mates, not this filthy piece of flesh.
Jolie fought with every ounce of strength as her body sung in pain. He was punishing her, and Jolie swore she wasn’t going to survive it.
Holding on to the memory, she waited, knowing the exact moment when she should strike.
Then, it happened.
When he threw his head back with his orgasm, Jolie drove the stake through his chest. His seed and blood poured into and across her body in a sickening gush.
She was horrified and screamed.
The room wavered as she wept.
“Oh God! Oh God!” she whispered over and over again, trying to break free from the horrible nightmare. Around her, Jolie could pick up the scent of her mates, the luxury they surrounded themselves with, and it made her want to weep.
When her eyes popped open, almost expecting to be trapped once again, she was relieved to see a familiar face.
She was free.
Jolie heard Flynn’s reassuring words as he held her tightly to his body. There was the wash of peace as his aftershave and serene blue eyes offered her calm.
She was safe.
Here was one of her mates.
Flynn immediately dismissed Mina. For now, he wanted to give her time alone to regroup. He’d recalled nightmares from Genevieve, which shook him to the core, and he knew what she would need. Jolie would want privacy.
“Oh, Flynn,” she said, tears filling her eyes.
He pulled her more firmly against his chest, soothing and offering her peace. “Jolie, shhhh… I’m here, baby. I have you now, and it’s going to be okay.” He kissed her face, forehead, and lips, as if the kisses would somehow heal the invisible scars.
She clung to him.
All the while, Flynn’s heart thudded in his chest. There was nothing more terrifying than being ripped from sleep by her screams echoing in his mind. When he woke, Jolie looked as peaceful as usual, but something just seemed off. Immediately, he had called for Mina to wake her because it was better safe than sorry.
“Oh, Flynn, it was horrible,” she admitted. Jolie practically climbed up his body to wrap her arms around his neck.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here,” he crooned, trying to soothe her. Immediately, she buried her face into his neck.
“I had another dream.”
“It’s over, Jolie.” He rocked and kissed her. “I’m here, and it’s not going to come back to get you. I won’t ever le
t him hurt you again,” he promised, knowing who was chasing Jolie in her dreams. He’d heard that, too, in his head.
“Please just hold on to me for now,” she whispered, kissing his throat in gratitude. His body smelled like all three of them, and it offered comfort.
“Want to tell me about it, Jolie?” he asked softly.
“I don’t know if I can yet. It’s still right there.” She stared up at him with haunted eyes.
Flynn’s heart broke. He’d seen that same look on countless victims. Instead of pushing her, he pulled a blanket over them and curled down into their bed. While he knew he should wake Jacques, Jolie wouldn’t let him release her.
“I was so scared,” she whispered.
He ran his hands up and down her back. “When I was a kid, my mom used to hold me when I was afraid,” he offered.
Jolie knew that Flynn was trying to distract her. He rarely talked about her. “I feel safe in your arms.”
Nuzzling her hair, Flynn tried to heat up her body. “I love you, Jolie. You’re the brightest thing in my life.”
She wanted to weep at his words. At that moment, she was defiled and vile. “Oh, Flynn.”
“No matter what he did to you, I need you to know that I love you. I will never let anyone hurt you again. I swear on my life. I’ll die before another man touches you.”
“I love you so much, Flynn. More than I can ever tell you.”
He noticed her heart was slowing down. “He raped you in this dream, didn't he?”
She hesitated. “Please. I can’t.”
Flynn knew it was time. “How about we wake Jacques, and you can tell us both at the same time?”
Jolie simply nodded. What she loved most about the man holding her was that while she was a killer, he saw the softer side, and wasn’t afraid to protect her. What Jolie needed now was to feel safe.
“Anything for you, baby.” He kissed her on the lips, all the while leaning closer to Jacques’s body. Without stopping their mating of mouths, he placed his hand on the vampyre’s chest. As energy ebbed into him, Flynn did the same for her, only by mouth.
The chill dissipated from both of them.
Flynn reached for his mate’s mind and warned him what had happened. While Jacques escaped from death, Flynn continued to cradle Jolie in his arms. When he finally broke the kiss, she was staring up at him.
“Was that like a bandage for my boo-boo?”
He grinned. “Yes. It was.”
Jacques was worried. He could feel the fear in the room. It was wrapped around their woman. “Jolie, did you have another nightmare?”
“Yes, and it was horrible,” she admitted, as she started shaking again.
“Flynn and I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again,” he promised. When she closed her eyes to bury her face against Flynn’s chest, Jacques needed to know.
‘What happened?’
He told him everything--from the screams, to having to have Mina shove energy into her body to free her from the nightmare. Flynn held nothing back, knowing Jacques needed to be a part of her healing.
Jacques caressed Jolie’s arm as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. When she was finally calm, he crept into her mind to seek out the nightmare which had plagued her. After seeing it, Jacques wished he’d never looked.
It was horrible.
She was broken.
He couldn’t believe how horribly abused she had been before he found her and became her guardian. He saw the memories of Goethe raping and beating her on that last night, and the fury rushed through him. Just the idea of another man putting his hands on their mate to hurt her brought the predator to life in him.
He shared it with Flynn.
It played out like some sick, perverse movie, staring the love of his life. Flynn stopped him from sharing the rest. He didn't want to know. Instead, he wanted to kill the bastard all over again.
‘I wish the son of a bitch was alive,’ he whispered into Jacques’s mind.
‘I would chain him to the floor and abuse him like he couldn’t even imagine.’
‘We would,’ he corrected. ‘We’ll heal her. I swear.’
Jacques hoped he was right.
‘Are you going to be okay?’ asked Flynn, worried for his friend. It was rare that Jacques showed his emotions, but his face said it all.
‘No, I’m not.’
That said it all.
“I don’t want to ever go to death again,” she muttered, as she continued to stay wrapped around Flynn.
“That’s fine with me, baby. I’ll stay awake with you.”
They remained in the bed, holding on to their mate. Jolie would move from body to body, simply breathing in their scent. Once she was calm, she knew what she needed to do.
“You saved me, Flynn. I don’t know how you knew, but you saved me.”
“Awww, shucks, ma’am,” he drawled, winking at her.
Jolie started laughing. “You’re insane.”
He knew the best way to calm her down was to make her laugh. “Funny, I seem to have been plenty sane until I found out that vampyres were real.”
The smile she shared took his breath away.
With gentle fingers, she began drawing circles across his chest as Jacques did the same to her back. “I’m lucky to have you both. Please don’t ever leave me.”
How could they?
When he felt the fear returning, Jacques knew they needed to do something. “I have an idea,” said Jacques, kissing Jolie’s shoulder.
“What?”
“How about we all get into a nice hot bath? We can fill it with lots of bubbles, because you know how much Flynn likes smelling like a girl.”
“Hey!” he grinned. “I don’t mind smelling like this girl. I just prefer getting her sent on me in other ways.”
Jolie laughed. “That sounds nice.”
“Then, the three of us can go into the family room, light a fire in the fireplace, and relax on the couch,” Jacques suggested, wanting to give her some sense of normalcy.
“That sounds perfect to me,” answered Flynn, as he heard the water click on. He knew that it cost Jacques dearly, since neither vampyre had fed yet. Plus, to be up this early would be draining.
“Come on, Jolie, baby. Let’s get you into the tub.” Flynn swung Jolie up into his arms before heading to the bath to set her into the steaming water. “I’ll be back, gorgeous, just let me feed Jacques. Then I won’t leave you alone for the rest of the day,” he vowed. When he threw in an eyebrow wiggle to make her laugh, Jolie looked more at ease.
“Okay, Flynn.”
The minute he was gone from the room, Jolie slid below the water and let it offer her safety and warmth in their absence. It was cowardly to hide, but she couldn’t help it.
She was rattled.
When he arrived at the bed, Jacques was sitting upright, but looked pale and worn. “Let me feed you.” He sat beside him, waiting until he was ready.
“Blood or energy, Jacques?”
What Jacques wanted was blood, but he’d take energy. The wound to his chest the night before was healed, but he’d still lost more blood than he liked. Before he could say anything, Flynn turned his back to him and tipped his head.
“Merci, mon ami.” Jacques let his fangs slip into his mouth as he cradled Flynn’s head in his arm.
‘Think about Jolie,’ he whispered into his mind, right before sinking his teeth into him.
Flynn did just that, and the pleasure was incredible. It wasn’t quite the same as when she fed from him, but it was still pretty awesome.
Before he knew it, Jacques was done. “Again, thank you for saving her and offering me your blood, Flynn.”
He really didn't mind. This was half of his family, and it was the least he could do. “Trust me when I say that it was my pleasure. Now, you should go bathe with her. Jolie needs you too.”
“What will you do?”
Brogan had his alone time with Jolie. With the pain she was feeling, only Jacques could h
eal the rest. “I’ll take a shower and then head down to start that fire,” he replied, patting Jacques on the shoulder as he followed him to the door.
“Are you sure?” he asked, stopping Flynn before he could enter. “When I woke, you seemed to have it under control.”
He nodded, feeling the vampyre’s trepidation. Flynn was a smart man, and he could see the worry in Jacques’s eyes. He feared being replaced. “Yes. She needs you. I did my part, so now you have to do yours.”
Saying nothing more, he opened the door. Heading to the side of the large tub, Flynn leaned down to drop a kiss on Jolie’s lips. When Jacques climbed in, Jolie moved into his lap.
“Join us, Flynn,” called Jolie to her mate, as soon as she realized he wasn’t going to get in.
He grinned devilishly over his shoulder. “Unlike Jacques, I wouldn’t be caught dead smelling like girly bubbles. It’s very undignified for a man, even an undead one.” He winked at his friend. “I’ll meet you two downstairs for some cuddling.”
Jolie curled into her other mate. “I love you, Jacques. Please hold me.”
He was grateful for that moment and angry at the same time. His precious Jolie was hurting, and someone had to pay. Death or not, hell was coming if it was the last thing he ever did.
* * * H a r c o u r t e * * *
Monday Evening
Jolie rested peacefully on the couch as her mates sat protectively on the floor in front of her. While behind them, she took turns playing with their hair. While both black, they had different lengths and textures.
The simple act was incredibly cathartic.
The fire was crackling, and it filled her cold body with the well needed warmth she’d been craving after the horrible nightmare. Now that she was clean, fed, and calm, the nightmare had slipped from her mind. At that moment, her heart was overwhelmed at how hard her mates had worked to give her normalcy. It was sweet and incredibly endearing. It made her feel…human.
That made her laugh.
Dangerous Misery (The Harcourte Vampyre Society Book 3) Page 13