by Roh Morgon
Oh God.
I stare at him through fear and pain.
“You can quit at any time. But remember what I said about you leaving without revealing your origins.”
Biting back a sob, I nod and steel myself for what may be a very long night.
Or nights.
The prospect terrifies me.
“The room is soundproof, and no one is usually around here at night anyway. You’ll be asleep during the day. Typically, one sleeps longer when weak from hunger.”
Dawn is hours away. The thought of sitting here, helpless and starving until then, only turns up the flames.
I nod my agreement.
“Then let’s begin. Tell me again about that night.”
And so I do. Over and over, until the words no longer sound intelligible, even to me. And finally the unending night draws to a close, and I gratefully sink down into the darkness of the day.
WEDNESDAY
CHAPTER 62
Images rush at me, one after another, of flames and red eyes and fangs. My swollen tongue will no longer permit the screams to rip from my throat, and I choke on yet another as the agony of hunger pulses through my body.
“Do you want to keep going?” The voice echoes as though far away…
The sting of a slap against my face forces my eyes open, and Colin looms over me through a scarlet fog, backlit by the overhead spotlight.
“Yesss.”
“Who do you see in the room with you? You said there were two. What are they doing?”
Terror overwhelms me as I slip back into the past. Fangs flash in the dark and a cold weight settles onto my chest. I scream through ragged vocal cords as the fangs disappear from view and a sharp pain pierces my throat.
“Biting,” I rasp. “He’s biting me, he’s… he’s drinking my blood. Oh God… someone help me… please…”
Red darkness rushes in, followed by the fires of hell.
A hand grabs my chin and raises it. I open my eyes to stare into Colin’s blue ones, filled with frustration and sympathy. The light forms a halo around his face.
“Yes. This we know. But who? Who’s biting you? What does he look like?”
Crimson eyes, glowing with madness. Sharp, dagger-like fangs, painted with blood. My blood.
Oh God. It hurts. He’s sucking the life from me. I can feel it draining away with each moaning swallow, and it burns. My vision’s speckled with tiny lights dancing to the ringing in my ears, and I cannot feel anything now…
Stabbing pain lances along my arm, bringing me back to the present. I look down to see my forearm bleeding from a gaping slash along its top, and a new panic takes hold when the wound fails to close. As the fires of healing add to those of my raging hunger, I lift my head to glare up at Colin. He’s standing over me, a dripping knife in his hand.
“We’re almost there, Sunny. Don’t give up now.”
I scream in answer.
Metal clatters against the tile floor and Colin cradles my head against his chest as I sob. I want to bite him, to consume every drop of his blood, but I’m too weak to move.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Keep going. You said there were two—a heavy-built one and a slender one. Which one is biting you?”
Their shadows hover over me in the darkness. The big one bites me again, and jerks my body against his, rough and insistent.
My mind shrieks as another layer peels away, and a new memory surfaces.
When he bites me this time, it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt at all.
In fact, it feels good, and I press my neck against his sharp teeth and cold lips. I want to pull him closer, but my arms are tied to the bed. He moans as he swallows, and my own cries of pleasure join his. As I sink into death once again, this time, to my horror, I welcome it…
“Sunny. Tell me what’s happening now. What changed? What do you remember?”
“I… I like it. I want him to do it again.”
My head is abruptly released, and I squint at the bright light as Colin’s voice booms out from in front of me.
“So you must’ve drunk Chosen blood by this point. How? From whom? Think, Sunny.”
I drank blood? I don’t remember…
A pale arm looms over me in the black night and presses gently against my mouth.
“Drink, sweet daughter, drink.” The quiet words embrace me in the tones of a cello, rich with a foreign-accented melody. A hand softly strokes my hair as a thick, metallic fluid fills my mouth. I try to turn away and can’t, and choking, I finally swallow.
Liquid pleasure races down my belly and my body arches with a sudden yearning for sex. I want it, want it now. I want to drown in it, and in the blood that has become my entire existence.
Oh God.
The last barrier crumbles and the memories come flooding back. Memories of eagerly awaiting their visits—the one who violently brings me death, and the one who gently gives me life, each equally pleasurable in their own way.
Mortified at my own participation in my destruction, I understand now why my mind locked these memories away. After the initial assault, I no longer tried to escape and, in fact, was left loose in the pitch-black cell to anxiously pace from wall to wall until the moment I could throw my arms around whichever shadowy lover came through the door.
And I never once thought about Andrea.
“Sunny. What do you remember? Tell me.”
“There… there are two,” I gasp. “The burly one is cruel, and savages me each time he drains me to unconsciousness. The slender one, oh, the slender one, he’s so gentle as he feeds me his blood, and pleasures me over and over…”
I can feel the bloodtears tracing their way down my cheeks as I speak, tears of embarrassment and shame.
“Does the slender one ever feed from you?”
“No. Yes. Once. In the beginning. I… I think the cruel one forces him to. They argue, and he tries to leave, but the cruel one is much stronger and makes the gentle one drink from my arm. He seems weak, and tries to resist, but I think he’s giving in because he’s hungry. His eyes, they’re so sad as he drinks, and then he’s yanked away. He falls to the floor…”
My words die beneath a fresh surge of agonizing fire racing through my body.
“Do you remember any others?”
Any others… any others… The words echo through my head, and I remember.
“Voices,” I croak. “I can hear voices on the other side of the door, even when the two are with me…” The black pit of dawn begins to tug at me and I give in to it, seeking the peace that it brings.
“What else? What happens before you escape?” Colin squeezes my shoulder, bringing me out of my stupor. The memories well up once again, along with the crush of hunger. I struggle to get my words out.
“I’m alone. I wake to sounds of arguing, and growling, and crashing noises. I think they’re fighting…”
“And then what? They’re fighting and then what? Come on, stay with me!” Colin shakes me back from my hunger hell. I now try to resist the rising sun as I dig through the images and sounds stamped deep in my mind.
“And then nothing. I wait and wait and no one comes. I fall asleep, and when I wake, I’m hungry. So hungry. I break out of the room, smashing the door apart with a strength I’ve never had before…” Helpless against the day, I begin to sink into oblivion.
“Sunny!”
“I… I’m alone. No one is here. The warehouse is empty. Run, a gentle voice whispers in my head. Run. So I run…”
THURSDAY
CHAPTER 63
Blood.
Heartbeats.
My eyes snap open as my body leaves the ground. Fangs find their target upon impact and great, gasping swallows begin to quench the scorching fire. Too quickly there is no more, and I zero in on the heartbeats behind me. I launch, and the flames die back a little further as this new fount runs dry.
The heartbeats have moved again, and again one ceases beneath the deadly fangs. And so I continue, and
pulses cease, one by one, and the inferno consuming me slowly diminishes.
I listen for more, but there are none. A musky scent filling the air matches the thick taste coating my tongue. I spit out bristly hair, wipe my mouth, and sit up.
Straw beneath me rustles as I peer through the surrounding dark. I’m in an unlit barn, cobwebs draping the wooden beams overhead. Scattered across the straw-covered floor are the bodies of what must be a dozen goats.
Goats. Disgusting.
But at least I’m no longer on fire, though a dull internal ache tells me I will need to feed again soon, preferably on something more palatable.
A movement to my left reveals Colin perched on a stack of hay, his scarlet eyes glittering in the darkness.
I slowly stand, brushing the straw and goat hair from my clothes. Spitting out a few more hairs, I head for the barn door.
“Sunny.”
“What.”
“You did it.” He jumps down from the stack, flicking the hay from his slacks.
“Screw. You.” I continue on toward the door.
It’s taking everything I have not to tear him into tiny pieces.
“Do you remember any of it?”
Pausing, I stare at the far wall.
“Yeah, I remember. I remember my screams, and the pain, and your relentless questions. I hope you’re satisfied.”
“Do you remember anything else? Do you remember your Change?”
I search my memory of that endless black night filled with fear and shadowy figures. And… nothing. Nothing more than that.
“No.”
Heaving a sigh, I cross my arms and turn around.
“So it didn’t work?”
“It worked.”
“Did you get what you need?”
“As much as you had to give. And I commend you for your endurance.” Colin runs a hand through his hair. “In fact, in all my years, I’ve seldom encountered anyone with such perseverance. Most other Chosen would have collapsed into a gibbering mess, but you kept your wits about you enough to push through the barrier and remember the details as you knew them.”
“So who’s my Maker?”
“That, unfortunately, you did not know. You knew there were two assailants, and one fed from you, and the other gave you his blood.”
“Two? There were two? And we still don’t know who Made me? Then I went through hell for nothing!” Blood runs from my fists as bitter anger boils up my throat.
“I didn’t say you gave us nothing—only that you were unable to identify your Maker. We learned enough to conclude he was forced, and not of the same lineage as the others.”
“Others. There were more than two?”
“Apparently so. We’ve not seen this before, but we believe the one who fed from you was to be your tracker, and there was something valuable about the lineage of the other—the one who gave you his blood. But we don’t know what, nor how they intended to use you. I suspect your Maker might have been related to our lineage—Nicolas said there was something familiar about you. It’s possible they planned to use you to infiltrate us, but that’s just speculation at this point.”
Great. It’s all useless bullshit as far as I’m concerned.
“So are we done? Did I fulfill my end of the bargain? Cuz if you say I didn’t, I’ll tear your throat out right here, and you can become my next meal.”
Colin laughs.
“In spite of the impressive and efficient way with which you—who should be completely incapacitated by hunger and blood loss—dispatched that herd of goats, I highly doubt you possess the skill to rip out my throat, or that of any other Chosen.”
I glare at him, curling my lip to bare a fang.
But he’s probably right. Katarina and Eva had both proven that to me with little effort.
“Sunny, I consider your part of the bargain complete. I still need to fulfill my end, which encompasses further instruction if you would like it. And that includes fight training.”
That gets my attention.
“You would do this? Teach me to fight? How to kill you?”
He laughs again.
“Well, preferably not me.” Blue eyes shining, his mouth curves into a half smile. “But yes, I will teach you how to defend yourself, and how to kill a Chosen if necessary.”
I take a deep breath.
“Goats. Really?” I spit again in disgust.
“Gathering a herd of deer on such short notice wasn’t really possible at the time.” Colin slowly walks toward me. He’s cautious, as though he’s unsure whether or not I might attack.
Good.
“Where are we? Is this your barn?”
He waves me toward the door.
“No. It belongs to a friend of mine.”
“And he let you have his goats, too, knowing they’d be killed?” I walk with my head half-turned, keeping him in my peripheral vision.
“I bought them at a livestock auction. They were destined for slaughter and seemed a better choice than a herd of sheep or a cow. I thought the taking of many small lives rather than a single large one might allow you to exorcise the violence that builds with extreme hunger as well as satisfy your body’s need for blood.”
He’s probably right about that, though I still feel like ripping out another dozen throats, including his. And my need for blood is far from satisfied, but this should hold me.
For a little while.
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t choose sheep. The wool…” I nearly gag at the thought.
Colin laughs.
“I considered that. They’re all a bit loathsome for my taste. But the goats seemed more deerlike than the others, so…” He shrugs as he walks alongside me, yet still keeps some distance between us.
Colin opens the barn door and holds it. I stop and look back at the devastation I’d wrought, feeling a little bad about their violent end. At least it was quick, if nothing else.
“What about those?” I gesture toward the bodies.
“They’ll be taken care of.”
I walk past him through the door into the cool November night. Clouds drift overhead, obscuring both stars and moon. Unable to see what phase it’s in, I have no idea how much time has passed since I first sat in the steel chair.
“What day is it?”
In spite of living my life by the night, I still can’t break the human habit of referring to the days.
We stop next to Colin’s car and he takes the keys from his pants pocket.
“Thursday.” He glances at his watch. “A little before nine.”
“And I went into the chair when?”
“Sunday, about midnight.”
Sunday at midnight. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday.
Three-and-a-half nights of being burned alive, of being bled, of being hounded. His voice will echo through my head for all eternity.
“You tortured me for three-and-a-half nights?”
Reddened vision and throbbing gums accompany the rage threatening to burst through my skin as I turn to look at Colin.
“Don’t.” His relaxed stance flows into something else, something lethal.
“Did you enjoy it?” I snarl. My fingers arch, ten tiny daggers needing a home.
“Did I enjoy it?” The careful mask he usually maintains fades into outrage. “Hell no, I didn’t enjoy it. Not one single minute of it.” Colin eases back, putting some much-needed space between us.
“From what I recall, you handled it like you’ve had lots of practice.”
He snorts.
“I won’t lie. I’ve done my fair share of interrogations.”
“You mean torture.”
“You can call it what you want, but I guarantee, what you experienced in that chair was nothing close to real torture, other than what your own body inflicted upon you.” His blue eyes took on a scarlet hue. “I did what I had to do to help you remember, and I asked you over and over if you wanted to stop. And you said, ‘Keep going.’ So I did. And every time you screamed, I had t
o prevent myself from opening those restraints and offering you my arm. Don’t think it was easy on me, because it most certainly was not!”
We glare at one another, both half-crouched and ready for the other to make a move.
Colin slowly straightens, flexing his fingers.
“Sunny, I like you. I admire your spirit and your determination. I will do everything I can to help you get what you want, even if it hurts me in the process. In fact, the truth is, I hope you find Nicolas. Not just for you, and not just for him. But for all of us. I hope you find him and bring him back, because I am unable to. I couldn’t convince him to stay—I’m hoping you can convince him to come home.”
By the time he’s done, my indignation has melted away, leaving me ashamed of my reaction and accusations. A little spark of hope ignites at the thought that, with Colin’s help, I actually have a real chance of finding Nicolas.
Taking a deep breath, I ease out of my crouch.
“I’m sorry.” I bow my head.
Colin steps forward and gently grasps my shoulders. Sympathy and concern line his features.
“I understand your anger and frustration,” he says quietly. “What you did was not easy. I kept waiting for you to break, to give up and put an end to it. But you kept digging through your memories, deeper and deeper, telling me every detail as you recalled it. Until you reached the bottom and there was nothing more to tell.”
“Then why can’t I remember any of them now?”
“Apparently the ordeal was so traumatic, you prefer not to remember it at all.”
“Was there anything else? Besides the fact that there were two? Or more?”
Colin shakes his head, his blue eyes bright.
“No.”
I nod.
“Well, then. I don’t know about you, but I think I reek. I could really use a shower and some clean clothes.”
“I believe I can arrange that.” Colin smiles and gives my shoulders a gentle squeeze, then releases me.
“But first, is there anywhere around here I can hunt? I need to run, and I’d really like to get the taste of goat out of my mouth.”
“I believe I can arrange that, too.”