I loosened the chokehold on him, leaving my hand on his mouth for a few more seconds. Then I dropped him to the floor. My fingers trembling, I buttoned up my jacket, recoiling from the memory of him touching me.
Adrenaline burned through my blood. There was no way to know how long he’d be unconscious, and I doubted I’d break free from his control a second time.
I turned to the mirror, my breath shallow. The warden had said there was a portal to the east. I’d go through the reflection to the mirror outside, and then head east, trying to navigate by the stars and searching for some sort of portal. In any case, I’d be getting out of this nightmarish place, back to Gabriel.
My mouth went dry, and I swallowed hard. I’d be leaving Roan behind.
With dread tightening my gut, I turned to the mirror, hating what I was about to do. I searched for the second reflection, then brought them together. The glass shimmered, and I leaped through it.
Chapter 26
Silently, I slid from a reflection in the tin tub, crawling out of the dripping water into a dark corner of the narrow torture room. The journey into the water’s reflection had soaked me in ice cold water. At least it had probably washed the piss off me, but I had to clench my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering.
Lurking in the shadows, I surveyed the scene. The torturer had her back to me, her eyes intent on the table. To my horror, Roan lay on it, iron rings around his powerful body, his mouth gagged. One end of the table, where his head lay, was lower than his feet. His sheathed sword lay on the table.
I craned my neck to get a better look. The woman had already started working on him, a rusty iron knife in her long, gloved fingers. As my heart slammed against my ribs, I watched her slide the blade across Roan’s powerful torso, cutting into the skin. Roan jerked in his bindings, fists clenching. Sweat trickled down his forehead. My mouth went dry. Three crimson slices already marked his skin just over his ribs and, because of his body’s angle, the blood ran up toward his face. Given those scars I’d seen crisscrossing his back, this wasn’t his first ride on the fae torture rack.
I bit my lip. I thought I’d already come face to face with the worst of humanity, but I’d never seen a torture session in action, and the sight of it filled me with a visceral horror. Right now, I wanted to kick the shit out of that fae twat marking up his skin. But I had to keep my emotions under control, or she’d sniff me out within seconds. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, thinking of nothing else but the movement of my lungs, and the air moving in and out. Beaches, toes in the sand, the call of seagulls… Keep it together, Cassandra.
Humming serenely, the fae torturer plucked a long, shimmering gold cloth from a pocket of her ethereal gown. She folded it in layers over Roan’s face, then picked up a tin watering can.
Gingerly, she poured water onto his face. His body twitched and spasmed, and the phrase drowned man rang in my skull. Somewhere, in the hollows of my mind, an image blazed—a skull under the water, a symbol of pure terror. I blinked, trying to clear my thoughts.
Bitch was waterboarding him. It wouldn’t kill him—probably—but he would feel like he was dying. Watching him lying there, helpless, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.
Elrine lay in the corner, her feet and arms bound, mouth gagged with a dirty rag. Her entire body shook. Apparently, watching each other’s torment was part of the punishment. Except right now, her gaze was on me, her eyes wide. If she kept staring, she’d give the game away.
I scanned the room, desperately searching for a weapon. My gaze landed on a rack of spears, hanging from a nearby stone wall.
Slowly and silently, I crept out of the tub, slinking toward the spears. Crouched in the shadows, twenty feet from the torture rack, I reached for one, but my hand froze as a flash of silvery metal caught my eye.
The dagger still protruded from the torturer’s arm. She didn’t even seem to notice, much less care. Could that demented wraith feel pain? Probably not. A silver spear was pointless.
But her tools were made of iron.
I dropped to my knees, silently crawling to the tool rack, scanning the disturbing iron collection. She’d taken the only blade, and nothing else would make for a quick kill—the instruments were designed to torture rather than execute—but I could at least do some damage.
Carefully, I grabbed the cat o’ nine tails—a whip with nine iron-coated cords. In my other hand, I grabbed a small pair of iron scissors. I’d never been trained in torture; it’s not like I was in the CIA. But I had a good idea of how I could use these.
As she poured another stream of water on his face, I heard Roan’s shackles buckle. I blocked out any ideas about the pain he must be experiencing, locking those thoughts deep in their cage.
Delicately, the torturer turned and set the watering can on the table. She froze when she saw me, and the sight of her empty eyes sent a sharp tendril of dread through me.
But I wasn’t about to give her time to rally. I lunged, swinging the cat o’ nine tails at her face. A loud crack sounded as I whipped it across her pale skin. She howled, an eerie, high-pitched wail, and fell to her knees, clutching her face. With my other hand, I slammed the iron scissors into her shoulder. She screamed, bucking, one hand clawing her injured shoulder as she folded over, grasping for me with her long, bony fingers.
My heart hammered, and I jumped away from her reach, desperate not to feel her touch again. I pivoted around her, slipping out of her reach until I was behind her. Before she got a chance to turn, I brought the whip down on her again, slicing through her delicate gown and her flesh.
Whimpering, she fell to the floor, but I had no sympathy for her. I struck her again and again, crisscrossing lines of blood materializing on her white flesh. My hand rose and fell, determined to make sure she wouldn’t get up again to hurt me or Roan, but with each lash of the whip I felt something in me breaking a little more.
Finally, I was spent. As I straightened, my body shook. The fae lay immobile at my feet, her skin in tatters. I felt sickened with her, and with myself. Disgusted with what this hellish place had turned me into.
Roan.
I turned to him, pulling the golden cloth from his face. His green eyes widened in surprise.
As fast as I could, I untied the waterlogged gag from his mouth. He took a deep breath, enormous chest rising and falling.
“Where are the keys?” I asked.
“Her pocket.”
I knelt and rummaged in the woman’s bloody dress. I found the ring of skeleton keys, and after a few tries, managed to unlock Roan’s shackles. He sat up, massaging his wrists as I picked up the knife from the table and walked over to Elrine. She twisted away from me, terrified.
“Not the iron!” said Roan.
Oh, right. “Sorry,” I muttered. I crossed back to the spear rack and slid one of the weapons from the rack.
Elrine’s body looked relaxed when I crossed back to her. Cutting through the rope that bound her wrists was cumbersome work, but I managed to free her hands. She pulled the gag from her mouth and grabbed the spear from me.
“Thanks,” she said, her voice shaking. “Help Roan.”
Roan had eased himself off the torture table, but he leaned against it, his face pale.
“Are you okay?”
“Iron,” he muttered. “Fae heal fast, but iron wounds never heal completely. We’re always left with scars. It’s like poison. It weakens us.”
“That’s what happened to your back,” I said. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you? It’s how you knew your way around.”
Something flickered across his green eyes, but he didn’t say a word.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” I said.
“But you came back.” His tone was mystified, brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of it.
Clearly, he hadn’t expected my return.
“Sure.” I smiled weakly at him. “With your wit and easygoing manner, do you think I could leave you here?”
/> He nodded at the torturer’s bloodied back. “Nice work. I didn’t know you had it in you.” Wincing, he reached down for his sword, securing the sheath around his waist.
“You don’t know a lot of things about me.” I slid my arm around his back. “Lean on me.”
He wrapped his arm around me, and I nearly buckled under his weight.
“Come on,” I told them both. “I don’t know how long we have until the warden wakes up.”
Chapter 27
We managed to get nearly to the kitchen before the alarm sounded. It was anyone’s guess whether the guards had discovered the torturer’s ravaged body, or the warden lying prone on the floor.
Whatever the case, alarm bells chimed through the prison, interrupted by the shouts of fae guards. The bitter taste of adrenaline flooded my mouth. We weren’t moving fast enough. Roan was limping, leaning on me, while Elrine trailed us, casting fearful looks behind her. Holding it carefully away from Roan’s body, I clutched the cat o' nine tails, its tips red with the torturer’s blood. Elrine kept her distance, occasionally eyeing it with horror and disgust. But no matter how uncomfortable it made them, it was a valuable tool right now. It would scare the living shit out of anyone who got in our way. Good enough for me.
“Can you move any faster?” I whispered into Roan’s chest.
He groaned, trying to push himself faster, grimacing at the exertion. A few steps more, and his powerful body faltered. The poisonous iron must have been eating away at him.
“I’m slowing you down,” he muttered. “Get Elrine out of here.”
I had a good idea what would happen if a prisoner tried to escape and failed. And after what I’d done to that fae’s back… Roan’s torture would be unimaginable.
“No.” I gripped his body tighter. “We’re not leaving you behind.”
“She’s right.” Elrine hurried to his other side, her body still trembling. “Here. Put your other hand around me. We can get you out.”
“And then what?” Roan snarled. “There’s a wide field, at least two hundred steps to the tree line. Every guard with a bow and arrow would be able to skewer us. Go!”
Elrine and I exchanged desperate looks. He needed strength—a lot more strength—to overcome the poisonous iron in his blood.
Hadn’t he said human lust strengthened him? If only he fed on human fear, we’d be outside in no time. But no. He was a sex fae.
I took in Elrine’s concerned face. I liked her, and I had no idea what their relationship was, but for what I was about to do next, I needed some private time with Roan.
“Elrine. Can you give us a few minutes alone?”
She narrowed her eyes. Clearly, she didn’t like this idea.
“Just a minute,” I pleaded. “I can strengthen him.”
Well, this was awkward. No way around it. But better a few minutes of awkwardness than leaving Roan in the grips of that monster downstairs.
“Fine.” Frowning, she slinked off into a dark doorway.
I turned to Roan, taking in his stunning features. Mentally, I forced myself to lock away my terror, and the extreme danger of the situation, and the ear-piercing alarm bells. I breathed in deeply, inhaling Roan’s scent, and I let my gaze wander over his golden skin, the faint hint of stubble on his jaw, his perfect mouth. His dark eyebrows and lashes, a contrast to his sun-streaked hair. I couldn’t remember having ever seen someone who looked so like a god. Already, I could feel warmth sparking in me. And as he gazed back at me, his green eyes had become more alert.
It was hard for me to feel sexy in this sodden, fur-lined jacket, designed for a fae child. While he stared at me, entranced, I unbuttoned the top three buttons, letting it fall open just enough that he could see half of my breasts.
With a low growl, Roan slipped his fingers into my hair, and the memory of that dream sparked in my mind… His fingers in my hair, hand stroking down my spine while I ached for him…
My breath became short, husky, as my face flushed. All I could think of was Roan’s hands over my wet body, warming me, holding me, gripping me.
I slid my arms around his neck, pressing myself against him. He was so much taller than me that I had to push up to my tiptoes to get near his face, my bare chest sliding against his. I caught a faint wince before I remembered the state of his chest, but he seemed too enraptured in me to care. He leaned in, gripping my hair as he kissed me fiercely, his mouth claiming mine. And as we kissed, I began to lose all sense of time and place, my mind blazing with images of wild strawberries carpeting a woodland floor, and sunlight filtering through the oaks.
I moaned into his mouth, letting my jacket fall open further, my hardened nipples brushing against his chest. With one hand in my hair, the other slipped down to my ass, gripping it tight, pulling me into him. I had the strongest desire to rip off the rest of my wet clothes and wrap my legs—
“Roan!” Elrine interrupted us. “We need to go. Now.”
Slowly, as if drugged, Roan pulled away from me, his body glowing with a faint amber light. Still, his hand gripped my ass, pulling me into him.
“Roan!” Elrine snapped again.
This seemed to snap him out of his trance, and he released his grip on me, straightening.
I began buttoning the front of my jacket again, mortified that Elrine had seen this. But at least it had worked. Roan could stand on his own now. Honestly, it felt kind of amazing that I had such power, but I didn’t have much time to appreciate it with the damn alarms ringing.
“Let’s go.” I started striding toward the kitchen, but Roan lingered behind. When I glanced back at him, his eyes were locked right on me, burning with golden intensity.
“What’s the matter with you?” I asked. “We have to hurry.”
“Pixie feelings,” Elrine said shortly. Her eyes were cool. “He fed too much on them. He’s half in a trance.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I grabbed his hand. “Roan! Get a grip! We need to get going.”
He blinked, then shook his head. “Right.”
We broke into a sprint, Roan easily keeping up.
We barged into the empty kitchen, and my heart skipped a beat. The kitchen’s outer door was blocked by two enormous male guards, their spears pointed at us. Both had long blond hair that hung over fur and silver armor. Roan growled.
I cursed inwardly. I didn’t want him fighting, half-poisoned with iron. He’d end up with a dagger in his heart, weakened enough to end up back in the torture chamber.
I stepped in front of Roan and Elrine, raising my cat o’ nine tails, letting the cords swing menacingly. Their spears had a longer reach. One I could handle, but two would be able to take me for sure. But I had seen Roan and Elrine’s reaction to iron. I hoped the idea of the metal cutting into them would scare the guards into submission. I could already see the fear in their eyes.
I smiled a mirthless smile, wide and full of teeth. “Think hard, boys. Do you want to spend the rest of your days hideously disfigured? With little fae children screaming in horror at the sight of you? If you think I’m afraid to use this, you are gravely mistaken.”
One of them took a hesitant step forward, his spear raised, and I swung the whip, the cords emitting a high pitched whistle as they cut the air. He scrambled back, although the iron hadn’t even been close to hitting him. I caught the strands with my other hand, running the iron cords through my fingers, letting them see the weapon had no effect on me. “I took out the torturer. And the warden. I don’t think you want to stand in my way.”
The guards’ gaze flitted between Roan and me. I let my cords swing gently in the air again, and a single drop of blood trickled from one of the iron tips to the floor.
Shaking, the guards lowered their spears.
“Open the pantry and get inside.” I took the key from my pocket and tossed it to one of them. “Join your friend there.”
They shuffled to the pantry, unlocked it and walked inside. I hurried to the door and locked it behind them.
“You know,” said Roan, “I could have handled them on my own. But it was fun to watch a little pixie terrify them.”
“I’m sure you could have.” I crossed to the exit door. “Help me with the bar.”
In one swift movement, Roan slid the bar from the door, and it swung open to the frigid air.
“Let’s go,” said Elrine. And within moments, we were fleeing into whorls of snow, the icy air stinging my skin through my wet clothes.
* * *
For a few moments, as we ran over the field for the line of trees, I let myself believe we were out of danger. My breath grew ragged in my throat. But with the adrenaline fading, the cold and weariness crept into my limbs.
When the first arrow thwacked into the ground a few feet away, my stomach lurched. The second one landed closer.
The deadly missiles spurred us on, and we picked up our pace. Weak from her imprisonment, Elrine stumbled, and Roan rushed to her. He scooped her up in his arms, racing for the trees. I sprinted faster, my heart beating wildly. I ran in zigzags, hoping my unpredictable course would make it harder for the fae to hit me. My trajectory veered wildly from Roan and Elrine’s, but that would only confuse the shooters more.
Still, a hail of arrows followed us all, whistling in the air as they landed around me. I heard Roan roar, but he kept going, and I had no intention of slowing down either. At last, we reached the tree line, hurtling into their cover.
I hid behind a wide tree trunk, catching my breath. Here in the forest, the tree branches had sheltered the earth from snowfall, which meant we’d be able to move faster, without leaving footsteps.
My breath misted around my mouth, and I began shivering uncontrollably. I needed to start moving again, or I’d freeze to death out here.
Not far from me, I heard an arrow thunk into a tree. If the fae had used semiautomatic guns, the three of us would have been dead by now.
From the shadows, I heard a groan, and I cautiously ran toward the sound, half crouching. I found Roan kneeling in the snow, grimacing. Elrine inspected his side where an arrow impaled him, jutting from below his ribs.
Agent of Enchantment (Dark Fae FBI Book 1) Page 20