Dark Secrets Box Set

by Angela M Hudson

  “Or what you’ve put her through,” Eric spat. “You’re a fucking monster!”

  “Tut, tut.” Jason wagged a finger then pointed to the camera. “Remember your allegiance.”

  Eric backed down.

  “Eric?” I looked up at him. “What’s he talking about?”

  He shook his head at half a turn.

  “Please tell me?”

  “I can’t, Amara. I’m not allowed.”

  “Oh, go on.” Jason exhaled. “Just tell her.”

  Eric swallowed and glared at Jason, his jaw stiff.

  “Fine. Don’t. I will. I do love a little pre-torture bad guy monologue.” Jason tilted his head as he looked down at me, magically making me feel small, like a butterfly in a glass case. “From what we know, Lilithians don’t technically die. You will be lost in a permanent state of sleep when they take you apart and put you in jars for eternity. But you won’t be dead.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I believe my brother said it quite perfectly once.” He touched a finger to his chin. “There is no death, no peace, only an eternity of solitude and mourning.”

  “Will I be conscious?”

  “Ara”—he laughed—“you’ll be in pieces. It will merely be your spirit left conscious, in the dark, for eternity.”

  “Is it the same for vampires when they die by a Lilithian bite?” Will it be the same for David?

  “No,” he said. “That is death.”

  “Then why isn’t there a way for me to die?”

  “I never said there wasn’t a way.”

  “You said I don’t die.”

  “Sorry. You won’t,” he said. “And technically, you don’t. It takes an awful lot to sever the connection of a Lilithian spirit from the realm of life.”

  “Why—why won’t being sorted into jars kill me?”

  “Same reason a stake won’t kill me: we’re immortal, Ara. There was once a way for your soul to leave this Earth, same as how Lilithians were death for vampires, but Lilith destroyed the serum of which could bring her pure blood descendants mortality.”

  “All of it?”

  Jason pressed his lips together. “So I’m told.”

  I glanced at Eric, nearly breaking to tears when I saw the hatred rolling off him in waves—marked by the stiffness in his limbs, his small eyes casting daggers into Jason’s heart.

  “If you want to leave, Eric, now is the time,” Jason said.

  “No. I’ll stay.” He snapped out of his trance and wrapped his warm fingers around mine.

  “Eric.” My stomach tightened. “Please don’t let him do this?”

  “It’s not up to him, Ara.” Jason towered over me again and concentrated on my chest, opening my dress again to the cool, damp air.

  “Please?” I looked at Jason. “You can’t cut out my heart, it’s insane.” I looked at Eric again when Jason rolled his eyes. “Eric. You’re standing right there. Stop him! What if I’m human? What if I’m not Lilithian? Don’t you know what this will do to me?”

  Eric sighed and looked at Jason.

  “Eric?” I said, shaking my wrists in the cuffs. “Just do something. Please. Please don’t let him hurt me.”

  “Stop talking.” Jason tilted a shiny scalpel into the orange torchlight and studied it.

  “Jason. You can’t be serious.” I closed my eyes. Oh God. Now’s the time. Please, there has to be someone—it can’t end like this. My head spun, my breath coming in smooth, nausea-filled lungfuls.

  Jason offered a tool—a giant metal letter F—to Eric. “I’ll cut; you open her.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant.” Eric bowed.

  “No. Jason. Don’t.” I rolled up from my ribs, no longer caring if the cuffs tore my wrists. The whole chair rattled under the force of my fear becoming a physical manifestation. “Let me go. Let me out of here.”

  “Eric. Shut her up.”

  “No. Eric, no. Please, we were friends. Please.”

  Eric sat the clamp beside my leg and stood behind me, his waist against the crown of my head. “Amara, you need to stop. Please. Just don’t scream. I can’t bear it.”

  “You can’t?” Tears streaked the sides of my face. “Please. I have no control. Don’t—just reach out. Just grab his hand. You have to.” I wriggled as Jason set the cold, pinching scalpel to my chest. “Oh God. Eric, just stop him.”

  He didn’t move though. He didn’t move.

  I screamed in one high-pitched wail.

  “Shh.” Eric cupped my mouth, muffling my scream. “It’s okay, beautiful girl, I’ll make it stop.”

  No. My eyes grew wide, bulging with pressure as his hand forced down against my nose and lips. I shook my head. I couldn’t breathe.

  My knees bent slightly and shifted against the chair, the wetness around my ankles making it easier to slide my leg up a little, but not get my foot out. My wrists tugged hard at the clamps as my hips twisted, lifting as I struggled to break out of his suffocating hold.

  Not like this. I pleaded to Jason. I want to go home. I want my dad. Please just let me go home.

  “Shh.” Jason closed his eyes.

  My stomach shook, frantically trying to imitate breath, but there was none to have. The blood pulsed to my head, making it heavy, tight, dizzy.

  I’m not a vampire, Jason. I’m just a girl. Human… Huma…

  “Just get it over with,” Jason said, cupping Eric’s hand more firmly to my mouth.

  A tight narrowing in my throat forced saliva to gather under my tongue. My shoulders jolted violently, fighting for that last hope of air as my chest hiccuped, rubbing the walls of my empty lungs together. I stared up at Eric, tears streaming my face.

  His eyes stayed focused, hard. “Shh,” he said, his gaze traveling to something across the room.

  Eric, you’re suffocating me. I’m not a vampire, I’m just a…

  The shiver of panic eased, and a soft, slow ringing filled my ears, rolling me backward as my body floated outward, headed for the sea…

  * * *

  “Shh, just breathe.” A whispery voice broke through the darkness, scattering the howling in my dream to the sides of my subconscious. “Just breathe, beautiful girl, you can do it.”

  “Take short, sharp, breaths, Ara. You will recover more quickly,” Jason advised in a dull tone, his voice forcing a painful emotional sting.

  I swallowed the spicy mucous pooling under my tongue, but when the tight breath I managed touched the back of my throat, the air sliced the raw passage, like breathing razors. I coughed out my anguish, pressing my lips together as a flood of warm, greasy liquid slimed between them.

  “Open your mouth,” Jason said.

  I pressed my lips tighter, shaking my head. What are you pouring in there?

  “It’s human blood.”

  “Why?” I cried, gargling what slipped past my barrier.

  “To see what reaction it has on you.”

  It burns. Get the fuck off me. I jerked about, my hands clenched, ready to fight as soon as I pulled free of the cuffs.

  “Swallow.”

  The muscles deep in my esophagus shifted, trying to swallow with my jaw clamped shut by Jason’s hand, but the foul liquid caught in my throat, making me cough, sending splatters of red all over Jason’s already covered face.

  “I said swallow,” he growled through his teeth, clamping my chin with his fingertips. “I’ll let you open your mouth when you swallow.”

  I’m not swallowing that! Blocking the passage to my stomach with the back of my tongue, the liquid floated along the insides of my cheeks then out the corners of my lips.

  “That’s enough,” Eric said, grabbing Jason’s arm.

  He released me and backed away. “Do you have a problem with the maltreatment of a Lilithian, Eric?”

  I lifted my head and spat the warm blood all over my chin and down my neck where it dribbled onto my chest, pooling against my gown around my ribs.

  It was no good. I couldn’t get it all out, a
nd a small river trickled down my throat—the unwelcome, unnatural substance clawing the inside of my stomach then slapping the muscles as it reached the bottom, making them heave and shift like leeches were swimming around in there.

  “I’m gonna be sick,” I cried, my fingers curling as hot liquid bubbled in my gut, shimmying its way up the narrow passage.

  “I don’t care what you’ve been told to do!” Eric yelled. “I want it to stop. Now! At least give her a break before you hurt her anymore.”

  My muscles shook all over with the unsteady heaving in my intestines. I breathed out soft queasy murmurs until suddenly the burning reached the back of my throat and projected, rising into the air a little then stinging my nostrils as it flooded through them, back down my throat. I tried to turn my head, but heaved again as more vomit erupted out through my teeth.

  Long fingers pressed the base of my neck and tilted my head upward as another wave of nausea forced a vehement blast of blood from my lips, this time over my shoulder and arm.

  It’s not stopping. Make it stop. My head twisted, pulsing and pounding, the strain fissuring my temples with each heave.

  “Shh.” Jason’s whisper came from above me. “Don’t drown yet, we’re not finished.”

  The cloud of agony lifted from inside me, suddenly giving me air, while my stomach continued to heave, though nothing came out except my disgraceful weeping. Jason rested my head back on the chair and moved away.

  “Amara.” Eric bent down and grabbed something off the floor, wiping soft lace over my face after, attempting to blot away the sticky red. He folded the cloth several times, merely smearing the blood around my cheek and chin. “I’m so sorry, Amara. I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, repeating his apology over and over.

  “I want to die,” I moaned faintly. “Just please, please just let it be over.”

  “Okay.” Eric nodded, brushing my sticky blood-clumped hair from my face, tearing a dried strand from the clutches of the cut on my lip. “I’ll make it stop. I’ll make him stop.”

  “Not yet you won’t.” Jason stepped between Eric and me, and using the end of his sleeve, smeared a heap of blood from under my nose and around the corners of my mouth.

  “Jason?” Eric closed his eyes, pinching the skin on his forehead. “She’s been through enough. Come on, man. Just put her out of her misery.”

  “I can’t. I have orders.”

  “This is different. She’s not from this world.” Eric pointed to me. “She’s not used to this kind of treatment.”

  “Lieutenant?” A man came practically tumbling down the stairs.

  “Shaun, what is it?” Jason turned to him, and Eric stiffened, his hands clenching dutifully by his sides.

  “King Drake has ordered the accused be brought to justice.”

  “What! Now?” Eric asked with a very foreign-sounding hint of panic in his tone.

  “Yes. These are the wishes of the king.” The man bowed.

  “Did he give reason for this change in plan?” Jason asked.

  “Yes, sir. There is a rebellion occurring. The king held trial for the accused only moments ago and expects the execution to take place immediately.”

  Execution? My execution?

  “Advise the Council we will arrive within the minute.”

  “As you will it.” Shaun bowed, then ran up the stairs.

  Jason moved from my line of sight, and Eric stood above me again. “Almost over, Ara.”

  The tight skin-cutting clamp from my ankle released, and blood rushed back into my toes, chilling them first before a numb tingle tightened like pins around them. Eric sliced the tip of his thumb with his teeth and wiped some of his own blood across my lips, shaking his head.

  “Hey!” Jason grabbed his arm. “No blood.”

  Eric dropped his hand and looked at me, mouthing the words, “I’m sorry.”

  I nodded.

  As Jason released my wrists from the clamps, I laid dead still, my hands and arms hollow and weak. He looked right into my eyes, narrowing his. “It’s time for you to show my brother what you’re capable of.”

  David’s here?

  “Yes. You’re going to kill him.”

  Shock sunk through my heart and caved my chest. “No!”

  “Yes.” He lifted me from the sticky mess of the chair, the cold touch of air making the tepid moisture all over my back feel like slime. “When you’ve killed him, I will give you some peace before I hurt you again.”

  My body jostled as he readjusted his arms around me, lifting me so my head rested on his shoulder, my legs over his forearm and my shoulder tucked neatly under the pit. All I could do was cry. I closed my eyes, wishing so hard that I could fight him.

  “Please don’t make me do it, Jason.”

  “Stop talking.”

  “Please. I know you don’t want to, I can feel it.”

  “Sweet, Ara. Sees so much good in everyone.” He squeezed me tight, his lips against my face. “What if there’s no good in me, what if I really am just as evil as everyone believes?”

  “I don’t believe it,” I whispered.

  Jason stiffened, his teeth crunching together in his mouth. “Well, what you believe doesn’t really count. I’ve proven myself a worthy servant to the king, and now I will make you kill David.”

  I could feel the fight rising inside me. “I won’t do it.”

  “You will.”

  “No!”

  “Stop moving.”

  “No,” I yelled, the strength to survive suddenly rushing through my veins like cold ice. I thrashed about, kicking my arms and legs, wriggling to get free of his hold. “Don’t, Jason, please don’t make me do this. I love him. I love him. Please?”

  His unyielding grip prevailed as we walked into the dense cold shadows of the corridor in the world of free air. I was out. I was finally out of that dungeon. Now, if I could just get down…

  My hand shifted from his grip and I lashed out, scraping my nails across his face.

  “Rah!” he roared, and the ground hit my spine with a breathtaking jolt before I realized he dropped me. My eyes flashed open to his face above mine. He grabbed my wrist. “If you do that again, I’ll—”

  “Let me carry her,” Eric offered, bending down.

  “No.” Jason shoved a palm to Eric’s chest. “She stays with me.”

  Eric’s eyes met mine as Jason hoisted me off the ground and over his shoulder.

  “You’re hurting me,” I yelled, digging into his back with my fingernails. “Stop it! Let me down.”

  Jason rolled me off him, shoving me against a wall, then squatted, grabbing my face sharply. “You are such a pain in the ass.”

  I pushed at his hand, twisting my face away, but he squeezed my cheeks harder, my gashed lip popping under the scab.

  “Show him,” he whispered through his teeth into my hair. “He’s in there right now, show him your thoughts; show him what I did to you.”

  “No.” I shook my head, pushing my feet on the ground to shuffle away.

  “Show him,” he raised his voice a little more.

  “No. I don’t want him to die with that on his soul.”

  “You will!” he yelled and bashed my skull into the wall.

  The room spun, my head going heavy, full of cold-rushing-away-with-warm liquid.

  “Ara, don’t you pass out on me again,” he warned.

  My eyes rolled to the back of my head as Jason’s face blurred from the edges inward.

  26

  Torture, by definition means, to distort something; to inflict pain. It can be taken in many forms, and the worst, by far, is the torture of knowledge—knowing what will happen, and not being able to run.

  He wanted me to kill David. And I didn’t know how to stop that from happening.

  My thoughts meandered back to my body, one eye slowly peeking out at the cozy space, where a soft orange glow over my bloodied hand brought warmth enough to make me feel kind of safe. And were it not for the icy touch of sto
ne under my bruised face, I might’ve drifted off to asleep again. But I needed to wake up—to see where I was and why Jason had brought me here.

  “She’s not breathing,” a voice said.

  “She’s fine,” Jason muttered from above me. I could feel his boot pressing firmly down on my ribs.

  “Get off her,” the other voice ordered.

  His foot came down harder. “Make me.”

  My ribs felt cracked all the way around, like a steel ribbon wrapped my tight lungs, stopping them from expanding. I held my breath, giving myself a few seconds under guise of sleep to assess the room.

  “Why is she so exposed?” someone asked. “What have you done to her?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “I swear to God, brother—” the soft, anguished voice paused. “If you touched her—”

  “She’s waking up,” Jason said. “She’s listening.”

  “Ara, my love? Please don’t get up. Just stay down.”

  “David?” I murmured.

  “No,” he begged. “It’s just a dream. Just stay down.”

  “Oh, I think it’s more than high time our little princess joined us,” Jason said and rolled me with his boot.

  The air expelled from my lungs with a short cough as I bent my knees and pushed up off the ground, keeping my head down until the spinning slowed.

  “Oh my God!” David gasped, fright expanding his tone.

  I looked up from the gray stone floor, and the color drained from David’s face.

  “What the hell did you do to her?” he raged.

  “What was requested of me,” Jason answered smugly.

  My eyes drifted back to David on his knees by the fire, his bloodied wrists bound by thin rope, the deep gash across his eyebrow bleeding red trails down his dirty face and pooling in the hollows of his gaunt cheeks. I burst into tears at the sight of him.

  “David, what did they do to you?”

  He shook his head, his onyx eyes flooding with warmth. “I’m fine, Ara. I’m okay. It’s you—oh, my love, I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, David.” I reveled in his name on my lips, ignoring the sting of my dry throat. “I’m sorry, I should never’ve trusted—”