Emerge: The Captive: (Book 3)

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Emerge: The Captive: (Book 3) Page 7

by Melissa A. Craven


  “No, you didn’t. You cannot think like that or she will win. Look at me,” she commanded. “Would you ever make a conscious choice to do that to a child?”

  “No.”

  “Then it wasn’t your fault. She forced your hand. Now stand up if you can manage it.”

  Quinn grabbed the edge of the bench, willing his legs to work.

  “I’ve got you.” Santi’s voice was so calm and sure. And her hands against his tortured body were nothing but gentle. Kindness. He’d almost forgotten what that felt like. With his arm around her shoulders, he managed to get to his feet where he swayed, dizzy and disoriented.

  “Don’t lose your balance. If we go down, I’ll never get you back up,” she groaned under his dead weight.

  “Sorry.”

  “Hold onto the wall if you need to.” She reached for the hem of his tattered shirt and lifted it up over his shoulders. She couldn’t quite get it over his head, even on her tiptoes.

  “I got it.” Quinn flung the remnants of his smelly shirt to the floor, but he flinched when Santi reached for the waistband of his jeans.

  “Don’t tell me you’re shy?” The hint of her teasing tone made him smile. He hadn’t smiled in ages.

  “I don’t know you.” He shrugged. “And I’m not at my best at this particular moment.”

  “You don’t have to impress me,” she said. “If I thought you could get out of those awful clothes and into the bath by yourself without drowning, I’d leave you to it. But the second I turn away you’re going down, you know that, right?”

  “Probably, but I can handle my pants by myself, sweetheart. Turn around.”

  “Seriously?” Santi laughed as she turned away.

  Quinn struggled with the zipper, but he finally shed his jeans and turned toward the welcoming bath.

  “Hold on to me. I won’t look.” She offered him her shoulder to keep him steady as he climbed into the scalding hot water.

  “You trying to boil me?” He winced at the sting of the water.

  “Yes. You and I have to share the floor by Liv’s bed and you reek.”

  “That’s right. I remember that first night on her floor. She likes to keep us close and under the thumb of her power.” Quinn eased himself into the steaming hot tub. The water turned milky-white with bubbles as the jets kicked on.

  “Smells fruity.”

  “I put bubble bath and every kind of essential oil I could find in there. Lavender and eucalyptus to help you relax and ease your muscle aches. Lemongrass to cleanse your wounds, and the sweet orange oil is just to make you smell like a person again.”

  “Thank you.” Quinn sat back against the edge of the tub, his back like a live wire in the hot water.

  “I didn’t see anything important, by the way. In case you were wondering.” She winked as she knelt by the tub. The delicate chain of her tether was just long enough to reach him. He didn’t like the glaring reminder of her captivity, but she seemed used to it.

  She plunged a sponge into the water. “Lean forward.”

  He did, and she squeezed the sponge, letting the water cascade over his shoulders. Blood and dirt rolled off him, staining the water brown. He cringed. By the time this bath was over, his ego would be as bruised as his body.

  “Cálmate. I’ve been right here. Many times. There is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  With his hands clenching the side of the tub, dried blood and dirt ran down into the water.

  “Put your hands in the water. It’s going to hurt like hell, but you have to get them clean. Best just to get it over with.”

  He slipped his mangled hands beneath the water, hissing at the sting. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to keep the tears back.

  “May I touch you with my gift?” she asked as she continued washing his back and shoulders. “What little bit I can manage. It will give you comfort.”

  Quinn nodded. He recognized the flicker of her aura and her hands grew warm against his back.

  “Just breathe. Relax, and give yourself a break, Quinn.” Her gentle hands wandered across his shoulders and neck, filling him with a sense of calm. A moment of blissful peace and serenity washed over him, soothing his tortured mind. And then it was gone. But it was enough.

  “Thank you.” He rested back against the tub. “That was amazing.”

  “Not even a fraction of what I can really do.”

  “What did you do, just now?”

  “I touched your soul.” Her hands swirled in the water, lifting his hand to clean the wounds there. “It can be very invasive. I can tell a lot about a person once I’ve touched them with my gift. The touch is pleasurable, but I can use it to give pain too. I don’t like doing that. I much prefer giving others a little moment of peace when they need it most.”

  “So you know more about me now?” Quinn frowned. He didn’t like the thought of her seeing more about him than he wanted her to know.

  “A little. But I would never go looking for information without your permission. Not that I can see much in my current state,” she said bitterly.

  “Tell me what you saw of me.”

  “You are a broody young man.” She smiled. “Very hard on yourself. And you care so deeply for those you love. And … you are an addict,” she added softly.

  “So you know I did exactly what I wanted to do when I hurt Lennox?” He pulled his hand away.

  “No. I didn’t see that. I saw a man with a difficult gift doing the best he can to control it. I saw bravery in the face of hell.”

  “And I saw nothing but weakness,” Quinn said.

  “I was there, you know?” she whispered as she dabbed the sponge over his chest. “These last months, I’ve been forced to watch you fight for your life like a useless voyeur. It’s been part of my daily ‘training,’ and the only time I get to leave this house. I feel like I’ve been through it all with you.”

  His jaw clenched at the knowledge that she’d probably seen him cry for his mother.

  “They are weak bastards who prey on the strong. We can’t let them get to us or they’ll make us into what they are. I refuse to let that happen. This is your new normal, Quinn. I’ll give you tonight to get your shit together, but that’s all the time you’re going to get.” She eased him back against the tub and moved to wash his blistered feet, her silky waves falling over her shoulder.

  She looked like an angel. So serene and humble.

  Quinn’s eyes filled with unshed tears of anger and frustration. I’m a total mess, falling apart right in front of her eyes. But Santi had been on her own the whole time. She didn’t have anyone to give her a pep talk. She just survived. Day to day.

  “No. No more crying for your momma,” Santi teased.

  “You haven’t met my mother.” He smiled. “If I cried for her, it was because I knew she would burn this place to the ground and no one would escape.”

  “Sounds like my mom.” Santi stood and held her hand out for him, turning her head away to give him privacy.

  Quinn stood, letting the water roll off him, grabbing her hand for support. He stepped from the tub and took the towel she offered. “What about … Lennox?” He draped the towel around his waist and eased himself down onto the bench.

  “Lennox will be fine.” Santi sifted through the linen closet, returning with first-aid supplies and a suture kit.

  “She’s just a kid.”

  “Can’t dwell on it or it will kill you. Len is special. She’s lived here most of her life.”

  “She’s telepathic?”

  “She talked to you?” Santi whirled around in surprise. “She must really like you.”

  “She assured me that she was okay and it wasn’t my fault. It was like a knife in the gut every time she spoke to me. She couldn’t seem to hear me, though.”

  “Lennox can only get a sense of what you’re thinking, but she only talks to the people she trusts.”

  “She’s so young. She can’t be sixteen.”

  “She’s thirteen.”
/>
  “Early Awakening?”

  Santi nodded sadly as she stepped behind him, placing the suture kit on the bench. “Just recently. I was there. I helped her through it as best as I could, but it was awful.” She dabbed a numbing ointment over the deep cuts on his back. “They don’t know yet.”

  “Livia? Hasn’t she realized?” Quinn didn’t think anything could get past Livia’s notice.

  “No. Len was always going to be a powerful girl, but after her Awakening, when she should have been obviously stronger, the sensation of her power was about the same as before. I don’t know if she’ll ever be as powerful as she was supposed to be. We’re trying to shield her as long as we can. If they find out, she’ll go to market immediately and then she’ll never get the training she needs.”

  “Who is ‘we?’” Quinn asked.

  “Me and a few others who care,” Santi said as she threaded a curved needle.

  “She can recover. I’ve seen it.” Quinn thought of Aidan’s brother, Seamas and how little his early Awakening affected him now. It took him a few generations to get there, but it was possible to recover from the limitations an early Awakening could cause. Len needed the kind of training someone like Seamas could give her.

  Quinn watched her reflection in the mirror as she moved around the bathroom. “You’ve grown more aware since the last time we met.” She was more confident than he remembered. No longer the naive girl who’d volunteered to come to Soma, not knowing what awaited her inside.

  “You opened my eyes to what was happening under my nose.” She shrugged. “It’s been a long three months since they took you away.”

  The pinch of the needle through skin didn’t hurt, but the tug of the thread turned his stomach.

  “I hate stitches,” he murmured.

  “What, you squeamish?” She laughed.

  “Sewing me up like a pillow, it’s just gross.” He shuddered.

  “Better get used to it, tough guy, You’ve got some deep cuts. They’re not healing because of Livia’s influence and you’re still pretty young, too. Some of these are going to take a while.”

  “I’m twenty-thr—no. Wait. I guess I’m not. What month is it?”

  “July.”

  “I guess I’m still just nineteen, then. Jeez, that seems so young.” He winced at the sharp tug of her thread.

  “Sorry. Almost done with the worst one. After all the time I’ve spent with Michael, I feel like I’m at least thirty, but I’m not much older than you.”

  They fell into a comfortable silence as she finished stitching him up. Santi’s gentle hands drifted over the dark bruise along his shoulder, rubbing a pungent ointment over the tender area.

  “Frankincense, lavender and tea tree oil will help with soreness,” she said. “The bruise will fade in a few days, but it should feel better by morning. Now let’s see your hands.” She sat beside him on the bench as she examined the damage to his wrists. “I don’t think I can stitch this.” She prodded the loose skin with a pair of surgical tweezers, pulling it back where it belonged. “I’m going to bandage this tightly and we’ll see how it looks in a day or two.”

  Quinn yawned. He was so tired, he could feel it in his bones. He winced when Santi pulled his skin flat against his wrists and sprayed the area with antiseptic before she bound them with surgical tape and gauze.

  His grumbling stomach broke the silence. His last decent meal was a distant memory.

  “You’re going to need your strength for what’s next, Quinn.” She met his gaze. “They won’t stop until you’re completely broken and you just don’t care anymore. Don’t let them win.”

  “They couldn’t break me with pain, so what’s next?”

  “A nice break.” She grimaced. “But don’t let it fool you. They’ll treat you like a human being just long enough to make you think it’s all over, and then they’ll turn on you.”

  “Build me up just to watch me fall again?” Quinn sighed. It would be better if they didn’t bother.

  “Come on, let’s finish up here so we can get you fed before she’s done in the gym. She doesn’t like us underfoot. When she’s home, it’s best to just stay out of her way unless she needs something. If she gets annoyed, she’ll lock you in the white room.”

  Santi covered his burned feet in ointment and wrapped them in gauze. “Can you get dressed on your own now?” She handed him a set of folded sweats from the linen closet.

  “I can manage.” Quinn moaned as he stood.

  “Just come out to the kitchen when you’re ready.” She left him to finish on his own.

  Quinn felt a thousand years old as he struggled to put on a shirt and then hobbled down the hall, clutching the wall for support.

  When he reached the kitchen, he collapsed on the nearest barstool. He needed food and sleep—and lots of it—to get his strength back. Then he could focus on getting his head on straight.

  Santi moved around the kitchen like it was her own, the scrape of the silver chain around her ankle a reminder of her place in this household.

  “What’s with the chain? You try to escape?”

  “No. I could break it without even trying. It’s just meant to humiliate me and remind me that despite my stellar education and my lofty ambitions, I am nothing.”

  She served him a plate of lean chicken and steamed vegetables. No salt or butter, but it was the most delicious thing he could ever remember eating. It wasn’t until he popped the last piece of broccoli into his mouth that he realized she hadn’t eaten anything.

  “You gave me your dinner didn’t you?” His cheeks warmed in embarrassment. Idiot. She was obviously starving as well as sleep-deprived.

  “You needed it more than I do.”

  “The kitchen must be stocked full. Why can’t you help yourself?”

  “She’ll know. It’s not worth it. Missing a meal won’t kill me. I’ll just sneak an extra protein drink before bed. She doesn’t count those.”

  “Santi … why are you doing this? Helping me? A place like this … you have to look out for yourself first.” He grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “I need someone I can trust. I’ve been here for so long.” Her voice shook. “Some days I feel like I’m going to lose this battle,” she whispered. “When you were here last. Before they took you away. I drew so much strength from having you here. I want to repay that kindness.”

  “You need a friend, you’ve got one.” He gave her a smile. “We’re allies in this.”

  “Friends.” She turned to the sink to wash the dishes.

  Quinn limped to Santi’s side, taking the dish from her. “You wash, I dry.” He smiled down at her.

  “She won’t sleep tonight so she’ll be in her study till dawn. We need to take advantage of the time and get some sleep while we can. She’ll wake you in the middle of the night to reestablish her hold on your power. She’ll do that frequently.”

  “How long does she have to be away before your power comes back?” Quinn returned the last plate to the cabinet and tossed the towel on the counter.

  “The longest she ever left me was twelve hours.” Santi grabbed a protein drink from the fridge, absently shaking it before she downed it. “I can start to feel my power around the ten- hour mark but I can never seem to grasp control away from her. I think the window is more like eighteen hours, but it might be different for everyone.”

  She tossed the empty bottle in the trashcan and led him to the bedroom. “You’ll get used to the floor,” she said as she made him a place to sleep at the foot of Livia’s bed.

  Quinn was too tired to care. The blankets were soft and the pillow was comfortable. They stretched out beside each other in the darkness. As his eyes grew heavy, Quinn reached for Santi’s hand, grateful that he wasn’t alone anymore.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER

  EIGHT

  Sasha: Summer

  Agra, India

  As the private jet took off, Sasha still didn’t know where they were going—on
ly south to Tamil Nadu. It made her nervous, but she forced a bored expression on her face, tapping her foot irritably against the pale gray leather seat. The jet was definitely impressive, with a long, sleek sofa on one side and four luxurious reclining seats on the other. She’d caught a glimpse of a conference room in the back when she stowed her bow and arrow in the overhead compartment with her carry-on. That was after Jayesh’s team searched them from head to toe. Imogen’s concealment gift was way more impressive than Sasha had ever realized. It was fascinating to watch the guard’s hands slide right through the weapons at her hip like they were made of vapor. It gave her comfort knowing she was prepared for anything—at least physically. Mentally, she wasn’t prepared at all for what lay ahead of her.

  Sasha watched Jayesh sitting opposite her now, poring over a stack of documents and speaking softly to the two soldiers sitting with him. The huge African men had joined them at the airport. They were both heavily scarred Immortals and spoke a dialect of French she had difficulty following. It was similar to Haitian French and called to her roots. She wondered if the two men were from Haiti. Or perhaps Africa? African French would explain her struggle to follow their conversation.

  Sasha’s eyes widened in alarm as she realized what that could mean. Jayesh led a “special forces” team that they wanted her to become a part of in the future. He was overseeing her training to become an assassin. Sloane said he was “the best at what he did.” He’s some kind of world-class assassin. And his team was probably active on the African continent. Her family feared that Sasha would not be returned to them as promised when this was over.

  Oh my God, are they going to take me to Africa? Her mind whirled with thoughts of warlords, jungles, drug smuggling and blood diamonds.

  Sasha leaned over and whispered her suspicions to her sister.

  “You could be right,” Gen said. If it was possible, she looked even more uptight than when they’d boarded the plane.

  Sasha watched Jayesh now. The moment they parted ways with Lieutenant Governor Sloane at the airport, his tune had changed. Apparently, he’d been on his best behavior for her parents. Now he was a smug son of a bitch, barking orders and ignoring Sasha and Imogen completely. Dressed in faded black fatigues, he was certainly handsome and every inch a soldier, but his attitude ruined any chance of them getting along the minute he opened his mouth.

 

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