by Kacey Mark
Might want to think twice before licking those bars, buddy.
The hawks paid no attention. They continued their dead-from-the-waist-up march up and down the hall. Their bare feet slapped the floor in steady rhythm.
“What’s taking so long?” muttered a woman from somewhere down the row.
Judging from the crowd, the rape and pillage was running a bit behind schedule.
The candy-cane man’s attention veered to a passing hawk. In a blink, his bony arms hooked between the narrow bars, his hands contorted into claws. He lunged for the steroid-swollen gym rat. Missed. “Come back,” he insisted. His pale featured contorted in outrage, then eased again. “I’ll do anything…”
O slowed his words as if musing to himself. “Look at how they react to the very thought of getting what you offered here.” He turned. “They’ve missed you.”
“They’ve missed the drugs,” Adrian muttered.
“Not really.” The Oracle pinched his thumb and forefinger together, as if holding the most precious grain of wisdom he’d ever found. His voice lowered to a serpent’s hush. “You see, as far as they know, the drug never left. It just became a little difficult to obtain.”
“You mean impossible.”
“Yeah, pretty much.” The O brightened. “Hey, business is business. They know the risk. None of these people are being held or forced against their will.”
Adrian took a menacing step forward. “Or under false pretenses?”
“Sketchy pretenses at best.”
His vision narrowed.
The O stepped back and held up his palms. “You can’t go blaming me. You started this, honey. This was your game.”
No denying that.
Finding pleasure in another person didn’t come easy. Not unless it came five-three with honey-streaked curls. Legs limber and toned from jumping fences, and a dusting of freckles earned from days spent thieving through Jensen’s summer garden.
A little hard to come by in an underground sex club.
So Adrian used his apothecarian gift to bend reality. A lot.
Only he saw the illusion through the air-light, undetectable powder. The women had no idea. It never lasted longer than a quickie, and it didn’t work more than once on the same person. Perfect excuse to leave his relationships at the club the way they belonged. Short and meaningless.
But as with any of his novice concoctions, it came with a side effect. And this one fell right into the Oracle’s food bowl. The residual powder that had dusted his one-night-stands left them with a rather gratifying taste. Or so he was told. The end result? A bunch of middle-aged, mental-Aphrodites offering themselves as the club buffet.
Night after night, no one could get enough. Passion turned to greed, then anger, violence. For the women, attention was attention.
Months later, when the effect finally wore off, the women went from seasoned steak to stale cardboard. By then, violence was the only thing left. O had been gnawing on the leftovers ever since.
The Oracle shrugged. “What did you expect? I can’t undo what you’ve created here. When you left, this place became…watered down.” He scrunched his nose.
“Not my problem.” Adrian’s peripheral vision yanked back to Shauna’s cell as one of the smaller, male hawks paced by.
The hawk hesitated. He turned his full attention to Shauna’s door.
Did he notice that she’d left it slightly ajar? Probably trying to hedge her bets?
No. The man didn’t close it. He waited. He’d chosen Shauna as his first victim and was waiting for the order to strike.
Adrian worked to ignore the blast of anger powering through his veins. His gaze raced over the hawk’s profile. He calipered the man’s stance and the width of his shoulders. He sniffed. The sharp tang of gunpowder told him the guy packed heat on a regular basis. Not used to relying on muscle.
He could take him.
Blind him, that’s possible. Distract him, maybe. But the urge to bust through the bars and smash a hole in the bastard’s skull sounded best.
Forget the Oracle’s demands or teaching that stubborn Barbie her lesson. Game’s up. This ends now.
The Oracle moved to block his view. The edges of his smug grin plied into his fatty cheeks. “Not your problem? You sure? Because in case you hadn’t noticed, your little toy is scared out of her itty-bitty mind over there.”
“She’s not for this world, O.”
The Oracle snorted. “Well then, we wouldn’t want her to end up like the last one, would we?” O angled his head. “Probably never crossed your mind, did she? We kept her here.” He grinned. “Fed her more and more of your precious chocolate to keep her willful, but in the end,” he lifted a hand, “she didn’t much appreciate our accommodations. Is that what you want for your little doll? It’s not, is it?”
He erected his posture. “Because this one’s special. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this is the flavor you’ve been lusting after your entire life. Isn’t that right?”
If Adrian told Shauna to run…No, she’d never make it up the stairs and out the building. The patrons at the bar would take her rape as an everyday scene. They wouldn’t bat an eyelash.
Until their eyelashes singed off.
Shauna might be able to protect herself, but she shouldn’t have to. Damn if he shouldn’t have let her come down here in the first place. He should have been there to protect her the right way.
The first time.
If that guy touches her…
Adrian took deep breaths to clear the fog of rage clouding his mind. It must have registered on his face, because the Oracle’s voice grew louder and more urgent, as if trying to rise above the drumbeat in Adrian’s skull. “Give it to me, boy. I want the infusion, or that frat house memory of yours will be nothing! I’ll send my entire flock over there for a gang bang you’ll never scrape out of your mind.”
The word grated through Adrian’s clenched teeth. “All right.”
Seeming satisfied, the oracle stepped back. He waved over a female hawk. “You’ll start with a girl. That will be easier for you, right?” He jabbed a finger across the room. “Followed by him, then him.” He turned to face Adrian, his shoulders back. “Then me.”
“No.”
“No?” A look of profound hurt wrinkled his brow. “Where’d all those good manners of yours go, Mr. Sands…Sands…Adrian Sands?”
Adrian jerked his chin to the one facing Shauna’s cell. “Him first.”
“Oh.” The oracle paused. “O-okay.” He tittered with delight and waved the large hawk over with an urgent flap of his wrist. “And to think, after all these years. You rascal! I can’t wait to see this tall drink of water turn into a pink lemonade.”
O’s pudgy fingers jabbed at the key pad attached to the cell door. “Or maybe it’s to make your doll feel better about the whole thing.” He waved the option away. “Oh, who cares?” He laughed. “You can do me next.”
“It’s a drug. Not a miracle,” Adrian muttered.
“But you’re the miracle worker.” The Oracle’s face fell serious. “You better pray this works.”
The moment the lock clinked shut on Adrian’s door, O bounded back, rear end first, to his vantage point. His bulb-shaped body jiggled as he trotted from one foot to another.
Shauna rose up on her toes. She pressed her cheek to the cold, stone wall, desperate to spy any hint of movement from her slivered view of Adrian’s cage. A quick snap of O’s fingers had turned away the beast about to enter her cell—but at what cost?
Maybe she didn’t want to know.
A leering male voice echoed down the hall. “It’s playtime.” Whether hawk or prey, she wasn’t sure. Shauna’s body tensed forward to pick up any sight or sound from Adrian’s cage.
The building chaos around her clouded her efforts, frustration creeped along her nerve endings.
“Wait. What about me?” offered a female prisoner directly across the hall. The woman bounced up and down and made a scooping moti
on with her hand, as though begging for the last chance to pull attention her way.
It couldn’t start like this. Not with him. Shauna’s heart sunk into a murky thought.
Or had Adrian requested this. But why? To teach her the harsh reality that anything goes here? That he ran the show? Or was he trying to spare her?
The hawks paced, their force growing in every step. Taunts and pawing invitations from their soon-to-be victims grew more urgent as the entire dungeon charged with eager energy.
A few hawks reared their cloaked heads toward O and Adrian’s cell, their expressions unreadable, before returning to the prisoners. Others faced the scene openly, as though waiting to act on the final outcome.
A scuffle ensued from somewhere within Adrian’s darkened bars.
“Whoa-ho,” shouted another prisoner. A grin edged in his tone.
“Get ’em, come on!” cheered another.
Shauna pushed out a huff of annoyance and glared at the overweight, dancing clown. Move already! She flinched at the deafening bang of metal that rattled through the corridor.
All sound cut off as the barred spectators collectively flinched in surprise. O jumped back a step and the crowd roared with new enthusiasm.
Something must have hit the bars. Shauna angled her head, searching. A heavy shadow dragged back into the depths of the cell. Could that be Adrian? He didn’t seem the grappling kind. He had the muscle for it, no doubt, but the guy who entered his cell looked like he could walk through a cinderblock wall.
The sound of shredding fabric met Shauna’s ears. Then a loud smack.
Her attention raced over the distant row of bars. The hawk hadn’t been wearing clothes. Whatever was happening in there wasn’t consensual.
The chime of metal links seemed to spur on the prisoners nearby. Shauna’s gaze flew to the dangling sex swing at the center of her cell, the same contraption that appeared behind every row of bars. She squeezed her eyes shut as her stomach took a sickening twist. This couldn’t be happening.
The cheers rose up with guffaws and sharp whistles from the onlookers.
She blinked back the tears that flooded her vision. Not him. Not Adrian.
He had been the silent guardian over her childhood and at one point, the keeper of her heart. He couldn’t be humiliated this way. Not for her.
The O’s upper body leaned back in shock. As if remembering himself, O rushed for the keys to the cell. He fumbled. Looked, fumbled again. His mouth flapped open and closed as if panic had crushed his voice box.
His tone grew from rasp to panicked squeal. “Don’t you dare…don’t you hurt him. He’s mine!”
“Adrian!” The name burst from Shauna’s throat.
Chapter Eleven
She shoved her cage door open with such force it crashed into the stone wall adjoining it.
Her blur of action exploded into blinding pain the moment she smacked into the pale chest of another hawk. He snatched her torso bear-hug style, and pinned her arms to her sides then clamped down with a punishing squeeze.
Shauna clawed and tore at his arms like a wild animal. All the while, he fought her backward. Away from Adrian. Back to the cage.
“Nooo!” she roared. Shauna delivered a savage kick to the hawk’s shin. The hawk staggered, and his grip crushed her arms against her body. She reared back and slammed her forehead into the mesh bag. The loud crack of bone against bone was quickly chased by numbness, then pain. A fine, white mist danced in front of her vision.
He dropped her, then delivered a brutal shove.
Shauna’s feet flew from the ground. She scrambled midair to right herself.
Her back slammed into the mat. Like a ragdoll, her neck flopped backward, and her head quickly followed. A numb tingle swept up the back of her neck as she twisted to right herself.
“What’s wrong? Not enough action in here for you?” The bitter malice in his whisper sent a shocking chill through her mind.
Shauna backed away on hands and feet like a tiny crab ripped of her armor. Her mind flew through his words, trying to decipher his meaning.
That voice. She squinted at the mesh head covering. Her attention coursed over the winged tattoo. The right side appeared blurry and smudged from their confrontation. It wasn’t real like the others.
His tone hardened but remained low to not alert the others. “You really thought you could get away with this? With my connections? I know people. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“Richard?” She shook her head. “What are you doing here?”
His head leaned forward as if searching for clarification. “What am I doing here?”
“You—you don’t understand—”
“I don’t care.”
The riot of noise outside peaked to a thundering roar. Shauna scrambled to her feet and raced for the opening. They’d talk later.
Richard caught her shoulders and knocked her feet out from under her with a swift kick.
She slammed to the mat again.
“We’re done. You got it?” He used the back of his hand to touch what Shauna assumed was his nose. He glanced at the faint smudge of blood that stained his hand.
“Fine!” No time for this. “Just lemme go!”
“No.” His voice turned sly. “We’re finished. But I’m not done with you yet.” She couldn’t see his face, but an entirely different person seemed to be confronting her from behind that mask. Not the doting fiancé she knew, but someone bitter, twisted with betrayal. “Know what? I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you finally came asking for it.”
Shauna sent him a sharp look of disgust. “It’s not like that—”
He came at her again until the mesh bag brushed her cheek. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner, actually.”
The frothy scent of beer consumed her sinuses. She angled her head and backed away.
“It figures,” he continued, ignoring her retreat. “Not the savviest pussy in the alley, are you?”
“Don’t—” She parried his forward movement and scrambled to put the swing between them. “You’re drunk.”
“You’re a whore.” The flat of Richard’s bare foot slammed into her chest.
She slapped against the foam pad again, and the air rushed from her lungs. Richard seemed to squeeze out what remained of her breath as he stepped his full weight on top of her rib cage.
Shauna pried her nails under his foot but it wouldn’t give, she pushed at his ankle. He was too heavy. The burning pain in her ribs grew to the near snapping point. She made a hasty grab for the swing that shuddered above. Mere inches away.
With a callous brush of his hand, Richard held it out of reach. “In fact, I’d wager you’re not anything that you say are. You’re not a virgin at all, are you?” He thrust the heel of his foot against her sternum. The mesh bag flinched forward near his mouth as he shouted. “Are you!”
Her jaw hinged open in a mix of offense and pain. Her mind struggled to register his words.
“So this is the problem, then. This is why you won’t give it up.” The weight on her chest eased a bit, sparing her precious gasps for air. “It’s not holding out for marriage. One man’s just not enough for you. How many do you need?” The weight returned full force. “Two? Three?”
Shauna scream forced itself from her lungs in a guttural yelp.
“Too bad for you, I don’t like whores. But as a parting gift, let’s make sure you get what you want.” Richard’s chest jumped as he blew out a sharp whistle, but the other hawk was already moving toward him. He released her with a final kick and moved for the exit.
One thought became clear. Even the dirtiest of money was cleaner than this kind of revenge. Richard didn’t want to get his hands dirty.
His words were curt and expressionless as he passed the entering hawk. “Fuck her. Then bring your friends.”
He pulled the cell door shut as he left and gave it a secure tug. He never looked back.
Shauna leaned away from the approaching
assailant, but his military steps didn’t falter. When he stepped within range, she kicked at the hardened length of his flesh-covered weapon.
He caught her foot before it connected. With a vicious tug, he yanked her forward. Her dress slid up, bare skin pulled and burned against the matt. She jerked her skirt back in place and twisted to crawl away.
Her assailant lassoed her throat with a tangle of Velcro and chains that hung from the ceiling. The animal scream that ripped from her throat cut off as he wrapped the swing around her neck and pulled tight. The man behind her shoved her lower half to the matt. Sharp pain branched from her overextended spine. The chains cut into her skin, and she scrambled up again, elbows propped on the matt to keep the pressure off her neck.
She sucked in air with tiny hitches.
The touch of skin against her inner thigh shot fear through her system. Her knees scraped the mat, routing for any chance of escape. Slick with moisture from her increasing body temperature, she couldn’t gain traction against the weight that pinned her down. Her lungs burned.
Air.
Shauna squeezed her thighs together as he shoved her dress up.
Her vision clouded on the edges with dark spots. She blinked to fight them back, but the spots grew wider. They bled together, then fringed with a red haze.
An inferno of heat swirled through her core and raged to the surface. It ripped the strength from her muscles. Her arms trembled under the weight of her own body, then finally gave in.
Helpless to hold it back, the flames burst to life around her. They singed her tender eyelids, and the smell of smoldering cloth and vinyl consumed her.
Cries of agony blared through her head. Her own voice chimed with the pained screams of another person.
Oh God. She was hurting someone. A fresh dose of fear engulfed her system, and the flames jumped wider in a surge of blinding light. She couldn’t stop it. She fought to lift her head, to escape, but her muscles wouldn’t react.
Stop it. She rolled her head to one side, and pulled in a gasp of scalding air and soot. Her diaphragm clenched in spasms of protest. Each cough sent jolts of pain through her ribs and scraped up her throat. The vinyl straps had melted and loosened their grip, but the tangled swing still cradled her upper body in an arched position. Her lower half lay flaccid and useless on the smoldering mat.