by Helen Scott
In moments, the sculpture had changed until it was Aster’s face staring out at him. The big doe eyes were unmistakable, nothing like the shrewd, sharply intelligent eyes of Isa. He shook himself and allowed the ice sculpture to fall from his hands into the swirling water below. His ears pricked, listening for the sound of the splash, an action he had completed more times than he would care to admit. He never heard it, no matter how closely he watched as it splashed into the water. This time was no different.
He lay back on the ground, allowing the hail to pound his skin. Each one was a little jolt to his brain, reminding him what his feelings had cost him and how much Isabeau had suffered because of him. He could never allow anything like that to happen again.
The wind changed direction and blew the wet strands of his hair into his face, plastering them to his forehead, along with his T-shirt to his chest. It was the sound on the wind that made his blood run cold.
A feeble voice calling for help pricked at his ears.
Dem was on his feet and moving before he had another thought. No one on their island should be calling for help. It was their safe haven, warded from everything. Gods and mortals alike couldn’t find it, let alone see it, without one of the brothers with them. When he heard it again, his feet picked up speed until he was racing down the mountainside toward the call. The wind whipping against his body helped dry his clothes and hair, while the storm overhead cleared as he clamped down on that side of his powers once more.
When she woke, the yellow eyes had disappeared. The darkness had cleared, but nothing was the way it should be. Aster wanted to scream and cry and rage against everything. The Surgeon looked down at her, his dark eyes devoid of any emotion. She was strapped to the metal table once more.
“You’re awake. Good,” he said, scribbling some notes down on his clipboard. “That last set of drugs didn’t seem to induce visions, but you did seem to be fantasizing about being on an island. I think I’m on the right track. I just need to tweak the formula a little more.”
She tried to speak, to tell him that nothing could ever induce her visions, but her mouth was so dry, it hurt. Her lips cracked at the slightest movement. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for any possible means of escape. It was the same one she had been in before, until Cin and the brothers had rescued her. That had been real, hadn’t it? She couldn’t have created the whole thing in her head, could she?
“I’ll find someone to get you cleaned up and ready for the next test. Don’t miss me too much.” He directed an empty smile toward her as he tapped the clipboard against his thigh. The starkness of his face unnerved her to the point that she had to look away, fixing her eyes on the stainless-steel cabinets that lined the room.
Aster could hear his fancy, expensive loafers clicking against the floor as he walked out. Once she was certain she was alone, she looked down at her wrists. They were bound the same way as before, big leather straps and buckles holding her arms in place. She yanked at each side with the small amount of leeway she had, only to find that her wrists were still raw from the last time she had tried to pull herself free. Pulling herself up as much as she could, she felt a tenderness in her abdomen, followed by a wave of nausea. Whatever he had given her was not agreeing with her.
The beige walls of the room swam slightly, and her stomach clenched. She barely had time to turn her head as her mouth watered and her belly revolted. The sour taste of vomit lingered in her mouth as the mess lay on the bed next to her, slowly dripping off the side onto the floor with a noise that made her stomach want to heave all over again. Heat radiated through her as a sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. She rolled her head away, only to see one of the guards walking into the room.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He sighed as he approached, shaking his head. “I did not sign up for this shit.”
“Help me.” The words rasped out of her, each movement, each syllable bringing a new wave of pain.
“You know I can’t talk to you. I’ll clean this up and give you some water, but that’s it.”
It was more than she had hoped for, expecting him to just turn away from her as so many of the other guards did, as though if they couldn’t see her, she didn’t exist. The snap of latex gloves brought her mind back as she sipped from the glass in front of her. The water was the most amazing thing she had ever tasted, cool and clear as it flowed down her throat, soothing the raw, dry feeling.
Once the guard was finished cleaning her up, she expected him to leave. He didn’t. Instead, he rolled over a chest-high silver tray. She could barely glance over the top, but the shape of a syringe was all she needed to see.
A shiver ran down her spine as the guard moved the hospital gown to one side, exposing her hip and underwear to the cold room. He efficiently swabbed an area and injected her with who knew what before placing a mark on her hip with a pen. She was starting to look like she had some odd form of chicken pox with all the spots covering her hips.
Aster watched his face. His cold gray eyes watched her for a moment before he held the glass of water in front of her again. She sipped at the cool nectar.
It was gone all too soon, and the guard was gone with it. Once again, she was alone, forced to deal with her emotions and thoughts in a way that she hadn’t been in a long time. She knew there was no chance for escape, not unless Thad came for her. But he had come for her, hadn’t he? Her mind was so mixed up.
“Aster!” A phantom voice called out to her, deep and very male. “Aster, wake up!”
She wrenched her head around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. Nothing. There was no one anywhere within sight. It actually wouldn’t surprise her if she was making up voices. She had been alone for over a week now.
“Come on, Sunshine, wake up. I know you’re still in there.”
She recognized the voice, but she couldn’t remember who it belonged to, or how they knew the nickname her sister had given her as a kid.
The sound of loafers clicking in the hallway made her heart race. The man who tormented her was coming back. The Surgeon walked into the room, his jet-black hair slicked back and his suit looking fresh.
“Do try to have a vision this time. It would save us all a lot of time, and a lot of pain for you.” The monster stared down at her before lifting the edge of the gown. “The injections don’t seem to be bothering you. At least that’s something.”
Her breathing was coming in short, sharp bursts. Her chest started to feel tight, like someone was sitting on it, making her all the more conscious of her racing heart. She couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs, and the cold grip of panic settled around her throat. The edge of The Surgeon’s face began to blur, and he slowly receded until she was looking at him down a tunnel.
Chapter 2
Aster’s brain became conscious of someone moving around her. She wasn’t on the hard surface of the table she had been strapped to before. This time there was something soft and luxurious under her. A bed, maybe? If it was, then it was the first time she’d been on a real bed since she was taken. Torn between opening her eyes to find out what was going on and not wanting the fantasy to end, Aster began to wiggle her fingers and toes. There were no restrictions that she could feel, nothing holding her down. Her breath came free and easy, and she wasn’t nauseous. In fact, she felt healthy, strong, nothing like she had when she was strapped to The Surgeon’s gurney.
“Aster?”
She recognized the voice now that her mind was clear again.
“Dem?” Her eyes cracked open slowly, afraid this was still all a trick.
When she saw his midnight-blue eyes staring down at her, it all became real, and relief flooded her system. Tears leaked unbidden from her eyes as she realized none of what she had just experienced had been real.
It had all just been memories, which she had been shoving down for the last couple months, resurfacing. She had been there tied to the gurney, there had been a guard who was kinder than the others, and The Sur
geon, Leonard, had experimented on her. Glancing around, she saw that they were in Dem’s living room, the wood and glass walls exposing everything to the outside, and yet she felt safer here than anywhere else.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Dem’s gruff voice softened as he realized how upset she was. His big paw of a hand rubbed her arm, sending warmth and little electric jolts into her body. “Do you remember what happened?”
She nodded. The memories had seemed more than real. If she hadn’t been with Dem at that moment, then she could have sworn she could still feel the bindings on her wrists and ankles, the bruise on her hip from the injections, and the weird light-headed sensation from the drugs.
“Dem, you’re really here, right? We’re really on the island?” She gripped his arms, the bones standing out in sharp relief on her hand, while somewhere in the back of her mind, she took in the sensation of his strength and the softness of his skin and stored it for later, when she could think clearly.
“Yes, we’re still on the island. What happened, Aster?”
The memory of the blackness and the yellow eyes hit her with full force then. She shuddered at the sensation of being caught in a predator’s gaze. Taking a deep breath, she related to him everything that had happened. He listened attentively, not letting on whether or not he thought she was crazy. When she finished, she pushed herself into a sitting position, and the world swayed slightly.
“Why’d you bring me here?” she said, looking around.
“I know you fought with Cin, so I wasn’t sure you’d want to go there.”
Shame colored her cheeks at the way she had spoken to her sister. Cin had died while attempting to rescue her. It was only the fact that she was a fury that brought her back to life, but her human side had burned away in the fire. “I appreciate that.” She risked a glance up and was immediately captivated by the night-sky eyes that stared down at her, concern etched on the dark slashes of eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just rest there. I’m going to go get some water.”
The hairs on the back of Aster’s neck stood on end. Something was definitely wrong.
She heard the deep baritone of Hal’s voice a moment before they both returned from the kitchen.
“Hey, Aster,” Hal said as he crossed the room, sitting on the coffee table next to the couch she had been lying on. “Dem said you had some kind of vision?”
“I don’t know if I’d call it that, but something happened, yeah.”
“Well, would you mind if I took a look?”
She shook her head. She trusted Hal implicitly when it came to his healing ability. If she hadn’t had his help when she was first rescued, then she would probably still be healing. He was able to ease her bruises and mend broken and fractured bones in days instead of months.
He used the water from the glass Dem had been carrying and formed it into a ball in front of her. A sense of wonder overcame her once again at seeing his ability manifest. It was one thing to know, but another to really see something like that happening in front of her.
“I’m going to move it over your head and eyes, okay?”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath as the water molded itself around her skull, tendrils of it working their way around her ears, but when it came down over her eyes, she realized for the first time since she had woken up, she could only see out of one of them.
Fear bloomed inside her like jasmine under moonlight. The concern on Dem’s face suddenly made sense.
“What’s wrong with my eye?”
“I’m not sure.” Hal’s brows had drawn together as his hands moved in the air, manipulating the water that surrounded her.
She knew she wouldn’t get anything out of him until he’d figured out what was going on, so she sat patiently while he examined her, or at least, she tried to. Her eyes kept darting over to Dem, who was standing off to one side, his arms folded over his chest, his face smooth.
If she hadn’t spent time with him before, she would swear he was completely detached, but there was something there lurking behind his eyes that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Whatever it was, it made her tingle with the knowledge that he was concerned about her, that some part of him cared about her even though he kept her at arm’s length.
A big wave of calm washed over Aster.
Hal sighed. “I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with your eye. I can’t see anything physically that would have resulted in the loss of vision, which makes me think it’s magical or at least related to your visions.”
“Thanks, Brother.” Dem’s voice was gruff, but his thanks was genuine.
One thing Aster enjoyed about Dem was that he never said anything he didn’t mean. His almost-indigo eyes clashed with hers, and she felt the same jolt of awareness that she always did. A part of her that she had hidden away whispered in her ear. Mine.
Her eyes broke away from his and glanced at Hal, whose worried expression did nothing to quell her nerves.
“I’ll get out of your hair. Just let me know if anything changes, and I’ll take another look.”
“Thanks, Hal.” She meant it. He was a lifesaver, sometimes literally.
She blinked and he was gone, teleported out, probably back to Robin. A rush of jealousy flooded her, and she glanced at Dem. The weekend they had spent together before everything went to hell had been amazing. They could be amazing if he would give them a chance, but his heart was still too hung up on someone else.
Pushing off the couch, she passed him in silence as she found the bathroom. When her eyes found the mirror, her brain couldn’t quite make sense of what it saw. Her face stared out at her from the mirror, but instead of her normal brown eyes, one eye was an icy blue. Her skin was paler than normal, as were her lips, their normal dusky pink color drained. She looked half dead.
Dem appeared in the mirror behind her.
“What’s wrong with me?” She could see the terror in her own eyes as she looked at his reflection in the mirror.
“We’ll figure it out.”
Panic clawed at her throat, making her head feel too full. She began to turn toward him, but the world seemed to tilt, and before she knew it, she was on the floor. Dem had caught her before she hit it, but that just meant they were both down. Blinking, she tried to say something, but then the blackness claimed her once more.
At first, she thought she’d passed out. Her head swam, leaving her feeling dizzy, even though Dem’s hands were firmly on her back, the heat from his skin searing her. When she realized it was the same blackness she’d experienced before, the panic eased, but then, just as before, the yellow eyes appeared.
“Dem?” she heard herself whisper. “Where am I?”
“You’re in my world. I can do whatever I want here.” The voice sounded distorted, as though she was listening to it underwater.
“Who are you?”
“Who are you?” the voice mimicked.
“Why are you doing this?”
The garbled voice was much closer now, as were the yellow eyes. “Because you are interesting, and because I can.” His words were a hot breath on her face. “Nighty night.”
Reality shifted around her, the heat from Dem’s hands long gone. She was cold and wet. Her body shook violently from the chill that had seeped into her bones. Aster was in a dream again, or was it a memory? Her eyes blinked open, but it didn’t make much difference. Wherever she was, it was dark.
“Wakey, wakey, princess.” The sound of a man’s voice scratched through the intercom system. A tingle of dread ran down her spine.
She knew that voice. It was one of the few that haunted her nightmares. Mitchell. He had been one of the security guards assigned to her while she was being encouraged to have a vision before they moved her to The Farm. Now she understood where she was: her cell in the Eclipse building.
The cinder block walls were all too clear now. The cot they had provided for her was just a piece of material stretched over a metal frame, but at least she wasn’t
on the floor.
The bare lightbulb that hung from the ceiling flickered on.
Mitchell’s face loomed over hers, pale and ghastly, as he unlocked the handcuffs that kept her attached to the cot. Hauling her up and over his shoulder, he moved her to the chair that was bolted to the floor, once again handcuffing her to the cold metal arms.
He squatted in front of her as he chained her ankles to the chair as well, a new development that started when she began lashing out against them. His hands landed on her knees and pushed up her thighs as he stood, his sky-blue eyes piercing hers with their cruelty.
“What should we try today? Hum?” He paced in front of her, tapping his lips with his finger. “I feel like coming back from The Farm warrants something special, but we also have to be careful of the potential bun in that oven. So, before you left, we did some knife work, played with water and heat. Today I think we should throw a party. O’Connell, how about we get some flood lights and music going in here?”
His silent partner walked out and wheeled in five big work lamps, which meant everything Mitchell had been saying before was for show. He had come down here knowing what he was going to do—he just liked tormenting her. O’Connell positioned three of the lights within her field of vision and the other two somewhere behind her.
“Don’t forget the music!” Mitchell said, a wide grin on his face.
His partner returned from the hallway with a stereo on a rolling cart. He placed it just before the light that was directly in front of her, while Mitchell wandered around, plugging everything in.
“We’ll be back after lunch, sweetness. Have a good time.”
As soon as the door shut, the lights came on, warming her skin and burning her eyes as they got brighter over time. The music started a moment later. Heavy metal blared from the stereo in front of her, making her ears ring.