Kairos

by K. J. Coakley

  If I could breathe, the air would have been sucked from my lungs…my screams fall on deaf ears as the gruesome scene unfolds.

  Boom, boom, boom. Fire zings through his back and chest. His pain courses through my essence.

  So hot. Logan clenches his chest, where the pain increases with every breath. He staggers back and looks down to find his fingers covered with blood. His chest feels like someone is sawing it in half. A gurgling sound escapes his mouth, and he reaches up to feel hot blood seeping from between his lips. Oh damn. It finally sinks in. I’ve been shot. Multiple times, from the looks of it. He turns around on weakening legs and falls to his knees.

  The Narkarri emerges from the field with my slack body in his arms. Logan tries to stand and fight him off, but his legs collapse beneath him, and the concrete greets his face with brutal force. Wheezing breaths saw in and out of his mouth with an occasional gurgle of blood.

  I’m going to die here, and no one will know where to find Sulwen. The Narkarri steps around him and places my body back inside the van. He slams the door shut and looks down into Logan’s eyes.

  “What the master wants, the master gets. She belongs to him.” His words come out slurred from his lopsided mouth, his jaw hanging at an odd angle.

  Logan coughs, and blood bubbles over his bottom lip. It shakes its head at him and proceeds to get in the driver’s seat. When the door slams, I visibly flinch. I watch with desperate eyes as the taillights fade off into the distance.

  Logan’s heart is weakening with each beat, and his breaths are coming in choppy and strained rasps, he reaches into his pocket and tries to power up his phone again, punching the power button again and again until a flicker of light flashes across the screen. He presses and holds the function button. “C-c-c-call home,” he manages to sputter out.

  “Calling home,” the phone replies.

  A pain severs the tie holding my consciousness to him as he passes out. My vision gets blurrier by the second. I fight to remain with him but I can feel him slipping…slipping…slipping away, and the more his essence fades, the more mine is drawn back to my body. “Logan! Logan, please hear me. Please fight. Pleasss…” With a sharp tug I’m yanked down into a pool of darkness.

  I awake to the sound of a door clicking shut and footsteps shuffling across the floor. I can feel a mattress beneath my back and covers draped over my body. I start to move my numb limbs but feel tugging sensations. My lids flutter open to a dark room. I turn my head and notice a woman filling a glass with water from a jug. She sets the jug down on the side table.

  I start to sit up but find that the tugging sensations I felt are actually restraints around my ankles and wrists. A moment of panic hits when the events of the night flood my brain, “Logan! Oh god, where’s Logan?” I pull and tug at my restraints trying to free myself.

  “Ouch, it’s a bit late for struggling, don’t you think?” she grumbles as she places the glass to my lips. I take a small sip and swallow the cold liquid. She nods and places the cup back on the table beside the jug. My eyes scan the room and take in the barren state of its existence. The walls are white. The floor is a dark hardwood that is a stark contrast to the blandness of everything else in here. White table, white bed, white door, no windows. It’s a cell.

  “Do you know if they brought a man here with me?”

  She shakes her head. “No, no others were brought in with you that I could see.”

  My heart sinks, but then my mind tries to rationalize that maybe it was all just some sort of dream. I’ve never had an out of body experience so I have nothing to compare it against…but it sure as fuck felt real. The pain in my heart feels real, and the sense of connection that I have always felt with Logan is no longer there. I feel—hollow.

  I pull myself together as best I can and try to put any thoughts of Logan lying in the road bleeding to death out of my mind…it’s an impossible feat, but I have to try damn it. I have to get out of this alive so I can get back to him. I have to!

  I clear my throat. “Who are you?” My voice comes out tired and raspy. My body feels so drained that it’s hard to keep my focus. I blink a few times and shake my head a little, trying to clear the fog from my brain.

  The woman walks over to the side of the bed, and it’s then that I take notice of her appearance. She’s wearing dark jeans with a brown peasant blouse that has a string woven throughout the seams at the waist and tied in a bow below her navel. Her auburn hair reaches just below her shoulders and falls in lush, loose curls. Her hair falls over her shoulder, baring her neck to me, and exposing the leather collar strapped around it. It looks restrictive and uncomfortable. My eyes move back up to hers in question.

  Amber colored eyes take me in from the top of my head to the tip of my bare feet. She reaches up and touches the collar, then shakes her head as if she’s too exhausted to discuss it.

  I find myself drawn to her, which causes my eyebrows to furrow as I mull over everything that has happened and why I’m here now.

  My expression seems to amuse her. Her full cherry-red lips part in a warm smile, showcasing perfect teeth. I tilt my head and take a snapshot for my photographic memory. Tall, five-foot-sevenish, long legs, small waist, medium bust, and a sad but beautiful face. When she smiles the tiny mole to the left of her mouth becomes noticeable.

  She takes a seat on the bed beside me. Her elegant hands smooth out over the top of her thighs in a nervous gesture. “My name is Ailis.” Her voice is soft and melodic.

  “That’s a beautiful name. I’m Sulwen.” She flinches at the mention of my name, but recovers quickly…not before I notice though. “Why are you here?”

  “Much the same as you…against my will.” I nod in understanding. She’s looking down at her hands as she picks at the seam of her jeans. I look away from her and glance down at my body. My clothes have been removed and a white lace gown put on in their place. The thought of someone undressing me is disturbing in more ways than I care to think about right now.

  “Did you change my clothes?” She nods, and even though I should still be concerned as to why she’s here, I am instantly relieved and feel a tad less violated. “Do you know who took me?” My curiosity is getting the best of me, and I can’t help but sling questions to the only person that might have some answers.

  She nods. “I know that he wants the knowledge he thinks you wield. But I also know you have yet to come into that knowledge or the power within yourself.” She looks up, and our eyes meet. Her eyes hold a pained expression. She has the type of eyes that you can look into and know they have seen horrible things, and suffered tremendous loss.

  “What are you talking about? I don’t have any special powers.”

  “Like I said. None that you have come into yet…but they’re there.” She reaches over and taps my forehead to show me where it is she speaks of. “And they’re here.” She taps the skin over my heart. “You must not fight it any longer.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m not fighting anything. Listen, lady, I just want to go home. I don’t want to be a part of this, but I don’t have a choice. Can you help me?” She shakes her head, and I feel what little hope I had left slither away and die.

  “I will not help you escape your duties, but I will help you fulfill your destiny.” She stands up and makes for the door.

  “Wait! What are you talking about? Please, tell me what you mean.” She looks back over her shoulder and smiles a gentle smile at me.

  “In time. But you’re not quite ready just yet.” She stops for a moment and then looks at me with the saddest eyes I have ever seen. “I know you’re confused and scared, but you must not allow them to break you. They’ll try…oh my, deary, will they ever try. Hold strong, Sulwen.”

  I watch her walk out the door, where I notice a silhouette of a large man waiting on her. She pulls the door closed behind her with a resounding thud and confirming click as the locks are triggered.

  My mind is like a hamster running in a ball but getting nowhe
re.

  What seems like forever passes before a tall man in black comes in and releases me from my bonds. With a rough jerk, I’m hoisted off the mattress. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a blindfold, which he secures quickly around my face and ties in a knot at the back of my head.

  My legs shake with fear as I’m pushed hard from behind, which causes me to stumble and stub my toe. “Ouch.” I start to bend over and grab my foot but halt when I realize I can feel his heat close to my ass. My body stiffens and my posture goes rigid in a second. Stubbed toe forgotten.

  “Move it!” he yells and shoves me again. We walk a short distance, and then he begins pulling up the bottom of my gown.

  “No, stop. Please don’t.” I reach for his hands, and I’m instantly rewarded with a hard smack to the side of my face. I raise my hand to clutch my cheek and take a few steps back. Hard hands grip my waist, and my gown is tugged up.

  The cold air hits my bottom as I’m shoved down onto what feels like a toilet seat.

  “Do your business. Quick.”

  My bladder is about to burst, so I waste no time opening the floodgates to relieve myself. When I’m finished he places tissue in the palm of my hand, and I clean myself up.

  With a tug I’m up, and we’re moving back down the hall. I take about two steps when I hear a loud pain-filled scream coming from somewhere to my left. The voices are muffled when the woman cries out again in agony.

  My knees start to shake with fear, and I start counting to one hundred to occupy my mind. Her screams follow me all the way down the hall and back into my room. I hear the click of the door shut behind me and whirl around to wait for my blindfold to be removed.

  I hear a whoosh right before a fist connects with my stomach, and I’m brought to my knees, gasping for breath. I cough and wheeze, trying to collect myself. Pain streaks across my abdomen, but I’m not given any time to dwell.

  My hands are clutched in a protective gesture around my stomach, so I don’t have time to react when I feel his boot connect with my jaw. I fall from my knees, and my face hits the wooden floor with a heavy thump. Blood pools in my mouth as my teeth bite down on my tongue.

  “Aah!” I scream out in pain. I curl into a ball as his boot rains down on my back, stomach, and head. Each kick sends my vision spiraling. My body aches in ways I could have never imagined.

  He finally relents. Boots stomp across the floor, and the door shuts quietly behind him. I reach for my blindfold and tear it off.

  My knuckles are bleeding from rolling on the floor, and they sting when I try to dab them with the blindfold cloth. I think I have a cracked rib because every time I try to take a deep breath, it is excruciatingly painful.

  I stand up on unsteady legs and limp over to the mattress, where I lie down and curl up in the fetal position. My head is pounding to the beat of my heart. My ribs are killing me, and my mouth will not quit bleeding. I feel a sob rise up, but I fight to hold it back. I don’t want them to see me break.

  I rise at the sound of heavy boots approaching my door. When the door opens, it’s the same man who came before. I cringe with fear and curl into a protective ball as he draws near.

  I try not to look at his face. His gray eyes are cold and calculating, and that scares me even more.

  “Bring it in,” he yells, and moments later a black-eyed and bruised Ailis walks through the door carrying a pitcher of water and a plate with a sandwich.

  Her eyes dart everywhere but to mine. I know I must look as bad as she does, but it’s still hard to see her beautiful face marred with deep purple bruises and a slash across her right eye that extends into her hairline. Her clothes have been traded for a plain white gown like mine, and she’s barefoot just like me. She places the tray on the table and exits the room with a pronounced limp.

  “Eat.” His voice is dry and to the point.

  I crawl to the edge of the bed and stand. When I reach for the plate, his hand wraps around my forearm painfully. His grip is so tight it feels like the bone is going to snap.

  “Stop. Why are you doing this?” I cry out as I try to pull away from his grip.

  He draws his other hand back and smacks me across the left side of my face and then shoves me toward the table.

  I scramble to get my footing as my hip collides with the blunt corner of the side table. I cry out in pain but don’t turn around. Tears build in my eyes, but I bite my jaw to quell them.

  “Eat!” he yells. I involuntarily flinch at his tone, but he doesn’t strike me this time.

  I grab the sandwich and eat with as much speed as possible. After taking my last bite, I drink a glass of water and turn to go back to my bed, but he wraps the blindfold around my eyes before I can make it there.

  Blinded by the darkness that comes with the black fold of cotton, I follow mindlessly as he leads me out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. This time I don’t fight him when he lifts my gown and turns me around to sit down on the toilet.

  When I’m finished he leads me back to my room and removes the blindfold.

  “Lie down.”

  I look up at him and feel a flicker of heat swirl around my feet, up my legs, and through my chest. The feeling emboldens me.

  “Fuck you. You’re going to regre—” Smack. His hand connects with my face so hard that I’m knocked off my feet and fall back onto the mattress. My ears start to ring, and my vision goes spotty.

  My entire face feels as if it’s being poked with a thousand needles at once. Before I can right myself, he’s straddling my waist and securing my wrists and ankles back into their leather bindings. I try to fight, but I can’t move at all, and I quickly realize that my struggling only serves to further heighten his enjoyment.

  My body goes slack, and my back rests against the cool cotton sheets as I surrender to the knowledge that I am at the mercy of another being. It’s in this moment that I feel my hope begin to slither away.

  Oh God, will Logan ever find me here? The more time I pass in this place the more I have convinced myself that my vision was the direct result of my unconscious state. It wasn’t real. I tell myself this every time those images of Logan lying on the ground enter my thoughts…it wasn’t real.

  I clench my eyes shut when I hear him start to move around, but he only moves to collect the plate from the table and then he leaves.

  I turn my face into the mattress and choke back the sobs that grip my throat like a fist. I don’t know why I’m here, or what it is they want from me, but I’m pretty sure they don’t intend to let me leave here alive.

  Days pass, and I start to notice a routine developing. Ailis comes once a day with food and water, and then Captain Douchebag allows me to use the bathroom, always blindfolded though.

  He always secures me back in my restraints on the bed before he leaves. Oddly enough though, he hasn’t spoken another word, and the silence is starting to get to me. I’ve tried speaking to Ailis, and sometimes she’ll make eye contact, but she won’t respond to my whispered questions.

  I haven’t heard anyone else walk by the door, and the house is so eerily quiet you could hear a pin drop. I start to doze off out of sheer boredom when I hear heavy steps coming toward the door. I watch the handle twist with both dread and excitement thrumming through my veins: excitement over seeing Ailis again and dread that it’s the master the man who took me spoke of.

  I don’t have to wait long to know that dread is the winner in this equation. A tall, muscular man walks into the room. He’s dressed all in black, from the skintight black t-shirt and military-style pants to the military-style boots that adorn his huge feet. His black hair is buzzed short, which only serves to highlight his strong, angular face. Thick black brows frame his deep-set brown eyes. A masculine nose and full lips polish off his chiseled features. He has a shadow of a beard that I think is probably there even after he shaves. His skin is a dark caramel color.

  He walks purposefully toward me before grabbing the only chair in the room and spinning it arou
nd to straddle it and then take a seat. He folds his arms over the back of the chair, and stares at me with a menacing expression.

  I am fully aware of how vulnerable I am strapped down to this bed. His dark eyes scan my body, and I internally cringe at the thought of him finding me appealing. Seemingly satisfied with his perusal, he smirks.

  “Sulwen Macgregor.” He spits my name out as if it’s distasteful to him. “Tsk, tsk…Miss Macgregor, you are quite troublesome to be such a little thing.”

  I tug at the restraints around my wrists. I can’t stand being bound and knowing he could have his way with me.

  “Hah…” he barks out in false amusement. “You think I would sully my dick by thrusting it inside your nasty cunt?” He laughs harshly as he sees that I have put the pieces together. “Yes, I read minds. It’s not that difficult really. And a mind as simple as yours is no feat at all.”

  I clench my fists and close my eyes, my instincts taking over as my heart pumps wildly in my chest. I can’t let him use me as a means to find the others. I start building a wall. I picture one block and then another, and before I know it, I can see it standing within my mind. Tall and impenetrable. Glowing with magic.

  I open my eyes and stare into his. “I’m not afraid of you.” When I say the words out loud, a sense of power strums through my core. Saying it out loud has somehow made the words seem truer than thinking them in my mind.

  He leans over the back of the chair, his face closer to mine than I am comfortable with. “You should be afraid. You should be very afraid. You know where something very precious to me is and you’re going to tell me. I don’t care how important you think you are, because I don’t give a fuck if the barrier comes down. Hell, I want it down.” He stands abruptly and shoves the chair against the wall.

  In a blur he’s leaning over me with his hands around my throat. His grip is firm but not tight enough that I can’t breathe. He leans down, and his nose touches mine. I try to pull back, but when he tightens his grip on my throat I freeze.