by Deanna Chase
“No,” he mumbled. “She’s not like the others and that’s why we’re negotiating. I’ve been more than generous, offering my previous Learners for a fair price, but this one is special.”
Panic went full throttle when I heard a second set of footsteps.
“So this is she?” a strange voice spoke. It was sharp, clear, and sent a chill up my spine. “Scant little thing, and you want to negotiate for a pile of rags?”
“Are we good on the temporary agreement or not?”
“You forget yourself; it was one of mine who spotted her, careful how you speak with me.”
“Fuck you, because without me you wouldn’t have these toys. You f-forget that without a maker, without what I alone can do like no other…” Samil’s words trailed off, followed by the sound of him drinking from a bottle.
“While you are her maker, do not forget who I am. You are in my debt, and I will decide when the debt is no longer owed. Show some gratitude.”
There was an audible grunt. “What makes me think this debt will ever be square?”
“Your previous endeavors were less than acceptable, this one better be worth it,” the man said. “Do tell me why you beat her— it would appear you are damaging the merchandise.”
“That pile of crazy is dangerous. If she’s not broken, she’ll grow wild.” Another swig of alcohol. “Have your sample and we can negotiate upstairs. This one I’m not giving so freely as the others; she was a pain in the ass to get. I’ve made her official with the Mageri and—”
“You what?” he shouted.
“That’s right,” Samil said in a satisfied tone. “So don’t get any ideas, because they have watch on her now. I have to think long-term and guarantee my claim on her.”
His heavy gait trampled up the steps until I heard the door slam. And lock.
My heart thundered as the stranger loomed above me.
One word kept echoing in my head: sample.
“Silver, is it? No need to play dead, child. I know you are awake.” He ripped the blanket off me and frowned.
He was not a big man; he wore round glasses, a neat grey suit, and dusty brown hair crowned his head. He looked like he could’ve been a banker who worked a very boring job. A slender, pointed toothpick rolled across his tongue to one side of his mouth and he slipped out of his jacket, lightly dusting it with his hand. Behind the reflection of his glasses was only a physical resemblance of a human, but no humanity existed in that stare.
“Now you don’t look like much trouble—Samil always did exaggerate.”
Slowly the spectacles were removed from his face and he neatly polished one lens at a time with a white cloth he removed from his pocket. When he finished, he folded the arms of the glasses together and slipped them into his coat, giving it a casual shake as he flung it around the bottom knob of the staircase railing. He rolled up his crisp white sleeves, and I began to back up and crawl away.
“Easy, girl.”
That’s all it took to set me off, talking to me as if I were an animal. I scrambled to get on my feet when his arm yanked my ankle. The breath crushed out of me when he came down over my back and flattened me against the floor. He wasn’t very big, or strong, and yet he was dripping with power.
Hot breath that stank of garlic slithered across the back of my neck and I turned my head as if I had been burned.
“Keep it up, I like it rough. I didn’t have any intention of using you this way—but if you keep tempting me, I just might reconsider.”
“What were you going to do?” I growled through my teeth.
“Were?”
He flipped me onto my back and straddled my sides so there was no going anywhere. My fists balled to hit him, but he pinned me down and my fingers were pried open.
“Let me go,” I yelled. “I don’t know what you want from me!”
My fingers tightened into a fist so impenetrable that his efforts to pry them open were in vain. He looked at me with calmness and made no effort to fight with me. He lifted my arms by the wrists and repeatedly slammed the back of my hands against the hard concrete floor.
Over and over. Until my knuckles bled.
When I could no longer endure the pain, I let out an angry scream and opened them.
“Now I see what Samil means, you keep this up with me and I will not show the kindness he has. I am far more experienced in punishment.” His lips peeled away from his teeth in a snarl. “Let me see what you have for me.”
When his thin cold hands touched mine, I cried out from the pain. The toothpick suddenly fell from his mouth and rolled onto my chest. I shuddered.
With everything happening, all I could think of was how I wanted that vile thing off me.
***
The Mage sat in a stupor after stealing my light, but eventually he lifted the jacket from the banister and left the room. The clock upstairs chimed once and I pushed myself through consciousness until I was standing by the rock at the Grey Veil.
Justus was on one knee, deep in thought as I arrived; I wondered how long he had been there. His dress was very different than what I had ever seen him in. Instead of a tight-fitting shirt, he wore a loose brown tunic, as if he stepped out of a Robin Hood movie.
“Silver.” Justus touched the tip of my shoe with his finger and rose to his feet as I turned away.
“Does he feed you? How has he cared for you?” his voice asked demandingly.
I tucked my hands beneath my arms and tried to concentrate on willing away the marks, but I seemed to have no control over my appearance. “Did you come up with a plan?”
“I want you to tell me everything that goes on. Where he lives, who visits him, what he’s told you.”
“He’s stinking rich, Justus. You’d never know it to look at him. Where do you guys get that kind of money?” I felt him against my back.
“What else?”
I sighed quietly. “Well, he’s had one visitor, someone he knows and does business with but I don’t know his name. I don’t really have any information, Justus; it’s only been one night.”
“Silver, you need to give me the details. Simon is doing a background check on Samil, but so far, he’s come up clean. You must cooperate.”
“I am,” I said flatly.
“Do you want to remain with him permanently?”
“Is that a threat or a wish?”
My energy was gone, evident in my voice, my heavy eyelids, and the lack of movement. It had taken everything to even get here without passing out. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay? I just want to sit here and forget—”
“I don’t have time for your silly nonsense,” he scolded, taking hold of my arm. When I pulled away, he suddenly went very, very still.
“Look at me.”
I turned around with slow precision to face him, and his eyes pierced with light as they fell over my cut lip and broken hands, which he held delicately in his own.
“It doesn’t hurt here.” I pulled away and my arms fell to my side. “I’m just tired, not broken—got it?”
Justus turned his back to me as he looked into the thick of trees. “Don’t say anything to agitate him. Comply with whatever he wants. He is the worst kind of coward, Silver. No man of worth would inflict such injuries on an innocent.”
“That’s not what you have been teaching me.”
“To hell with what I taught you!” he yelled. “Should he beat you—then appear to weaken before him. If he senses your strength he will beat you harder.”
“I’m not doing anything you wouldn’t do yourself, hypocrite. You’re telling me not to fight back. I’m sorry, but that’s not in my DNA. You warned me early on this kind of thing happens, and now I understand why you’ve worked so hard to train me.”
“The Council will know of your treatment.”
“The Council doesn’t give a shit. You told me yourself the Creator gets extra privileges because of what they are. Why is that? Does the Mageri think they’ll go on strike and quit crea
ting more, ending our line? Someone needs to change the rules. Anyhow, it wasn’t him that did this. Well, not all of it.”
With that revelation, Justus spun around and outrage spread across his features; his eyes blazed like a raging fire and every muscle in his body tightened.
I stepped back.
“Who beat you?” A muscled twitched in his face.
“Never mind.”
Justus stepped forward. “I’m going to ask you again—who beat you?”
I held my tongue as I thought about what it could mean to tell him. I loved seeing the fire in his eyes—that protectiveness warmed me in a way that words could not. But I wasn’t about to give him more information. I was afraid he might do something stupid and get himself in trouble with the Council.
“What are you keeping from me?”
“Comply? Do whatever he asks? Just get me the hell out of here!”
“Silver, I am your Ghuardian and I am bound by the laws of the Council. But I swear as your Ghuardian, these men will die.” His body moved up to mine and his head lowered to meet my gaze. “I want to know who put their fist on you.”
“Are you saying that it’s acceptable that my maker does it, but now that someone else is in the picture—”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I sighed. “I know. But I don’t want you acting irrationally—I need you sane. I can’t live with your death on my conscience. I know you’re a man of honor; you follow the laws and have taken the Ghuardianship far more seriously than I did as your Learner. Walk away from this. I am not—”
My words cut off when his hands cradled my neck.
His devotion to defend me ran deep. What he felt for me as a man was questionable, but what he felt for me as a Ghuardian was undeniable. If there was ever any doubt of where I stood with Justus, it was answered in just four words.
“You belong with me.”
Chapter 23
After five long days, one thing I could count on was routine.
Samil was usually drunk when he wandered down to punch me around like I was some no good stray dog. Each time he asked me to beg to be healed, I gave him the finger. There was an advantage in knowing how to push his buttons. I was not fed, and my body slowly began to weaken. While his intent was to break me, I knew there was something more underneath it all. Resentment, and it had a lot to do with my nightly visitor.
Every night around the same time, the small man with the spectacles came in and stole my light. The first two nights I struggled and fought back. I learned the hard way that he followed through on his promises; being repeatedly slapped in the same spot carried more pain than a full beating. Chinese water torture taken to a whole new level.
His taste for me was becoming an addiction and the arguments between him and Samil increased in frequency. Samil never stole my light and I could see he wanted to, but there must have been some agreement.
The visitor was angry about Samil weakening me; apparently, it had an effect on the quality of my light. Samil claimed his right as my Creator to inflict whatever punishment he saw fit.
My body was frail and I reminded myself that I was a Mage and all of this was only temporary. What I wouldn’t give to be back on the sofa with a box of crackers and a book of Mage law.
I could only guess the reason my healing was slowed to a non-existent state was because of how much energy was being juiced from me.
After the first night with Justus, I quit my visits to the Grey Veil. My deteriorating condition would only fuel his anger. He had warned me so many times about these types of people and how a Mage was my own worst enemy—I just never imagined. My perception was changed, now, and going forward I would be stronger for it. And smarter.
Almost all of the boxes in the basement had been cleared out after I tried impaling Samil on his own damn pen. That was the night I got my first broken rib. It was worth it; to draw blood from him brought me great pleasure. It was morbid, but I swelled with pride and looked forward to each confrontation—fighting back was empowering, even if it didn’t end in my favor.
Part of my demoralization was the removal of all my personal items, including the dirty pile of blankets that kept me warm. The only clothing allowed was my bra and a pair of shorts and I slept barefoot on the cold cement floor. Samil wanted to strip my dignity thread by thread.
Quite honestly, I was running out of threads.
There was a gash in my forehead from the hairline to the eyebrow. My shoulders were riddled with bruises, I had a cut from his ring on my collarbone, and just to sum it up—I was a mess. All things considered in my weakened state, I felt tougher—hardened. I never gave the satisfaction of crying, which was a silent victory for me.
The visitor’s beatings, on the other hand, were another matter. He found a sensitive spot on my side and slapped it repeatedly with full force… minutes went by and beads of sweat formed on my brow as I writhed in agony. On the second night, I was prepared to fight; I wasn’t prepared to get punished in the same manner in the exact same spot, which was still raw. The pain was so severe I actually bit into my own arm to feel pain elsewhere.
The door creaked and I remained motionless. Something was off—Samil didn’t give his usual introduction of “ready to beg?” He was also sober.
“Get up,” he ordered. “We’re leaving.”
“Where?” I didn’t just have butterflies in my stomach, I had pterodactyls.
A rope unraveled from his hands and I staggered to my feet. I tried to get by him, but he slammed me to the floor and bound my hands behind my back.
Then we were in an SUV and I was reminded that it was winter as I was shaking from the cold.
A key popped in the ignition and the vehicle roared to life. “If he cannot meet my demands, then I will not negotiate. He has no right to take what is mine.”
The car rumbled down the road, throwing me off balance from my seat. I could still smell the embers from a fire burning, mingling with the scent of pine that was leaking from the vile car deodorizer dangling from his mirror. Despite the impending danger, it felt good to be free again. Nothing good ever came of being tied up with rope and thrown in an SUV driving through the dark woods, so I thought of what to say to him.
“I thought I was yours?”
His fingers bore into the steering wheel, and he made a hard right turn. Samil’s temper flared and whether he was talking to me or himself, I wasn’t sure.
“He was only to taste, but he has grown greedy and now expects me to turn you over. Why he wants you, I do not understand. I have made none that have transformed their appearance as you have, but I do not see anything special about you. He wants you more than the others and yet offers me less? Now he threatens to take without pay.”
I swallowed hard, bouncing on the seat when we hit a pothole. His speed was erratic and my weak heart was struggling to race.
“He doesn’t seem stronger than you.” My voice remained cautious as I did not want to provoke him even further.
“You know nothing of his power,” he snapped. “He plays with fire.” His lips curled back. “But two can play at that game.”
“Where are you taking me? Look, I’m no trouble.”
“You are more trouble than you know. I do not give so freely to my enemy.”
“Enemy? I thought you were business partners.”
“Friends close, enemies closer.”
“You’re my Creator; I thought that gave you the trump card. Where are we going?” I felt nauseous and scared—I wanted Justus.
I couldn’t jump out of a moving car with my wrists bound. Samil ran a hand through his stringy hair, flipping it away from his face.
Justus was right. It took little practice to move myself into the Grey Veil and I found that I could do it with ease, even in the car. I was alone, and I screamed. I screamed so loud it echoed off the distant mountains.
I fell to the ground in panic. “Please hear me, please come. I’m in trouble, I need you. Justus… Simon… som
eone.”
Hands fell on my shoulders. “Silver, what is it? What’s wrong?”
“Simon?”
“Tell me what is happening!” he demanded.
Simon looked different. He was dressed in white pants and tall boots with a long coat. He looked like a British soldier from one of those old paintings I remembered from history class. His hair was tied back into a ponytail and I wondered if that’s who he was before he was turned.
He saw the damage done, all of the marks of abuse, and his eyes became daggers seeking a target.
“Fucking animal.”
“Simon, he’s driving me somewhere, I think he’s going to kill me. My hands are tied, I can’t get away.”
Simon fell to his knees in front of me.
“Silver, you must listen to me. The pendant, do you still have it?”
“Yes. It’s hidden in my bra, but I still have it.”
“Good girl. When the time is right, you need to pull from it. The pendant will give you enough energy that you might be able to fight him off, but use it to run.”
“Can you find me?” Simon scooted closer and held me in his arms, brushing back my hair with his hand.
“Yes love, but it will take time to pinpoint your exact location. Go back and look around for a sign or marker so we know where to look. If we are within proximity, we will be able to pick up your energy if you do not conceal. But hell, Justus will be able to sense you regardless.”
I drifted back to the vehicle and watched mile markers fly by, hoping for something that I could give to Simon. Two miles passed with my head pressed against the window. A sign blinked in the distance and fast approached as I squinted to read it. Just as soon as I returned, I blurted out the mile marker and the name on the sign before I was suddenly yanked back out.
“Nifty little trick he taught you, isn’t it? I never did understand the use of that gift, now I see its value,” Samil said.
Nausea loomed and something salty and metallic was on my tongue. I blinked and felt a warm stream of blood running down my head across my face. Samil had smacked my head against the dash to wake me and reopened a cut. I moaned, trying to wipe the blood from my eyes with my knee but I only smeared it. A fit of anger surged and I spit on his arm.