Taken For His Own

by Tara Fox Hall

  They weren’t just going to rape me, they were going to beat me to death in front of Al. I closed my eyes, suddenly scared.

  “No more comments?” Al asked, his pleasure in his words. “Feel free to say anything on your mind, girl. I welcome your full participation.”

  The man with mean eyes uncoiled the cat of nine tails, then snapped it in the air a hair’s breadth from my face. I flinched, my eyes wide, even though the lashes hadn’t landed on me.

  My response brought nods and exclamations of admiration for the sadistic bastard with the whip. I began to shake and whimper, though I tried hard to be strong.

  “Just give her a taste,” Al said lecherously. “Soften her up, Vanni, but watch the lashes. I want her to be able to scream when Henry puts it to her.”

  Vanni nodded, then snapped the tails again. This time they landed on my hips and thighs. I let out a loud scream, yanking at my bonds.

  “Again,” Al said eagerly.

  Ten times more Vanni hit me, and ten times more I screamed, the welts becoming bloody cuts that burned and dribbled blood unto the sheet beneath me. By that time, I was sobbing, begging them to stop, my voice a cracked whisper of helplessness.

  “Go to it, Henry,” Al said. “She’s yours first.”

  Henry began to unbutton his shirt. “Good, I was hoping you’d stop him before she was ruined for—”

  The window in the room exploded inward suddenly, glass flying everywhere. I closed my eyes and ducked my head as glass rained down over me in an arc. Screams filled the room, then wetness touched my bound hand. I opened my eyes. Henry was convulsing, his eye oozing blood, a large glass shard sticking out of the socket. He’d dropped his gun on the bed and was using both hands in an effort to get it out, his efforts working it deeper. He gave a sudden sigh and relaxed onto the bed, then slipped off the side.

  The room was plunged into darkness. There were sounds of fighting, then the bright flashes and noise of gunfire. More screams sounded, then came a wet ripping sound and greedy gulping.

  Three shots fired quickly. The frantic gulping becoming a short yell that quickly died.

  “Why are you here, Dev?” Al said in the blackness. “We are friends! My family had always been your ally. You knew my father and grandfather!”

  “I offered you money to leave Sar alone,” Devlin said heavily. “I offered you free kills. You refused both. So I knew you had found some way to get to her.”

  “You want her for yourself? Why? You’ve never lacked for women—”

  “That isn’t your concern,” Devlin said nonchalantly. “She is valuable, and you would waste her with this pointless and common torture scenario. I can’t let that happen.”

  “Don’t think I won’t use this,” Al replied, his voice now coming from the far side of the room. “Take her and leave if she’s so important. But you come for me, you’re dead.”

  “Your men are already dead around you,” Devlin said mockingly. “And it’s too late for bargaining, Al.”

  There was sudden fumbling as Al tried for the door.

  “You are common evil. The worst kind,” Devlin said, his voice dark with bloodlust. “Your grandfather would be ashamed to call you family.”

  “We have been allies for a decade!” Al pleaded. “You’re throwing that away for a woman? After all we have gone through together? All the times I helped you?”

  “You never helped me for any other reason than that it suited your purposes. The same as my reasons for helping you. Here is where we part ways.”

  Another shot rang out. There was a grunt of pain, then frantic struggling. That died until the only noise in the gloom was unrelenting sucking.

  I lay still tied in shock, everything around me surreal. For a minute or so, I was still, my entire thought on breathing so I might reach the next moment. Then a draft of chill air gusted through the shattered windows, bathing my naked body in gooseflesh and shocking me out of my stupor.

  “Devlin?” I called hesitantly.

  There was no reply. But the silver moon suddenly appeared from behind clouds, lighting the gloom with faint cool light.

  “Shouldn’t we go?” I said, my voice quavering.

  Devlin got up and came toward me slowly, his skin shining faintly in the gloom. He had healed his bullet wounds, pale skin shining through the ragged bloody holes of his shirt. Wisps of smoke still curled up from him in places. His hair was also longer. It reached his shoulders now, and the stubble I had seen before on his face was now thicker, almost a beard. Blood covered his face and hands.

  He sat beside me on the bed. “I’m sorry,” he said gently. He wiped the blood off his face and hands on the edge of the sheets, then untied my hands.

  “For what?” I asked.

  He touched my shoulder lightly. “For not being in time.”

  “You were in time,” I said, dissolving into tears. “You were in time.”

  “Shh,” he said, hugging me.

  “They were going to—”

  “Shh,” he said, holding me tighter. “They did not get to do it. And now they are dead. Hold still, I must untie your feet.”

  I held still as he untied them. Instead of shaking less, I began shaking harder, suddenly feeling Henry’s dropped gun lying beneath my back. With a cry of terror, I lunged for it.

  Devlin grasped my arm, stopping me. “Leave it. You don’t need it.” He led me to the nearby closet. “What we need are clothes.”

  He grabbed two black shirts and handed one to me. We put them on. They hid the holes in his shirt, my cuts and most of the blood.

  “Hold still,” he whispered, then went to his knees. I felt his hands grasp my waist, then the touch of his mouth on my thighs. With a few light kisses, the burning of the worst of the whip marks went away.

  “Dev,” a voice hissed in the gloom. “Stop screwing around with her, and come on.”

  “Are all of Al’s men dead?” Devlin asked, tangibly relieved.

  “Pretty much,” the voice replied. “Get moving. I’ll meet you by the car. And if you’re looking for her clothes, they’re here in a pile by the door.” The door opened, a dark figure slipping quickly through it.

  “We must go and fast,” Devlin said, standing and taking me by the hand. “We need to be far from here when daylight comes.” He guided me outside to an idling Hummer and helped me into the backseat, handing me my clothes. I hurriedly slipped them on, just finishing as he returned.

  “Where to, Boss?” the driver said.

  “Get on the highway and find the nearest decent hotel that we can reach before sunrise. And stay under the speed limit. There’s too much blood on me to get pulled over.”

  As we began moving, Devlin gathered me into his arms and then settled back. I lay there still in shock, trying to get my mind around what had happened to me and what had almost happened. I vacillated between sobbing and staring into nothingness.

  “Penny for your thoughts, Sar,” Devlin said, grinning down at me.

  “Ass,” I said crossly, snapping back to myself. “Can’t you try to be less creepy? I was getting to like you.”

  “Don’t you mean you are getting to like me?” he said, laughing.

  “Sometimes,” I said, before I thought. “Then I usually remember the night we met.”

  Devlin looked down at me, eerily. “Blake said it best, Sar.

  I went to the Garden of Love

  And saw what I never had seen.

  A chapel was built in the midst,

  Where I used to play on the green.

  And the Gates of this Chapel were shut

  With “Thou Shalt Not” writ over the door.

  So I turned to the garden of Love

  That so many sweet flowers bore.

  And I saw it was filled with graves,

  And tombstones where flowers should be

  And Priests in black gowns were making their rounds

  And binding with briars my joys and desires.”

  He lapsed into silence.
/>
  I turned toward him. He looked normal, despite the awful words he’d just uttered.

  “Tell me what’s wrong? Why are you so angry? So bitter? You saved me, and you were strong and fearless and brave. You shouldn’t be feeling like you are nothing. Like you have nothing. That’s what that meant, right?”

  He looked at me, his expression unreadable and didn’t answer.

  I tried again. “Devlin, answer me, please. Why are you so gloomy?”

  “I’m sometimes morose,” he replied, a faint smile on his lips. “Don’t concern yourself.”

  I gave up questioning him, put my arms around him and laid my head against his chest, listening to his heart beat. It was slow, as Danial’s was. After few moments, he tightened his arms around me, hugging me back.

  It was almost dawn when we finally stopped at a Courtyard Inn in some small city. Devlin got out, cast a quick look at the lightening sky, then grabbed a bag from the back of the SUV.

  “Hurry, Sar.”

  Eager to rest, I went with him quickly inside, the guard following. To my surprise, renting a room wasn’t easy.

  “We have nothing but the honeymoon suite,” the clerk told him apologetically. “All our rooms are booked.”

  “You’re joking,” Devlin said flatly, giving him eyes that said he’d better be.

  “No,” the clerk replied. “It’s Labor Day weekend next week. We’ve got an end of summer celebration starting tomorrow for families in town, and it lasts most of the week.”

  “A fair?” I said blankly.

  “Rides, games, fireworks, arts and crafts, wine tastings, live music, parades. You name it,” the clerk said proudly. “I’m glad of it. We haven’t been so full all year.”

  “This is like a bad episode of a sitcom,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “You said it,” Devlin said in disgust, handing him a credit card. “We’ll take it.”

  He led me to the room, instructing his guard to stand in the hallway outside and watch the door. Only the one had left with us. I wondered where the others were now but didn’t ask.

  “Well, let’s see how bad this is,” he said portentously, opening the door and gesturing me inside.

  I walked into the suite, Devlin following me. The room had a king sized bed, but no atrocious decorations. There was a Jacuzzi tub for two that wasn’t pink. Other than the bed, the room contents were the usual—a small table and two chairs, a love seat, a TV, a dresser and a nightstand.

  “Not too bad,” Devlin said as he sat down on the bed. He let out a groan as he peeled off the shirts, revealing an odd device.

  I sat down beside him, peering interestedly. He had on some kind of armored plates over his heart, covering both his front and back, almost like a metal bulletproof vest. Six separate straps held the plates in place, but only two intact straps were left. The others were ragged pieces, where the straps had been shredded by explosive rounds, and some of the metal itself was missing. All of it was stained in blood, most of it his.

  “So that’s why you aren’t dead,” I said.

  Devlin nodded, attempting to undo the twisted straps. “Yes. I wear it wherever I go now. Those exploding bullets are far too common anymore, and I have too many enemies.”

  I pushed his hands away and quickly unbuckled it. “You’re smart to do it. Danial thinks he’s invulnerable.”

  “I know,” he smiled ruefully, as he slipped the plates off. “I’ve been talking to him, trying to get him to wear one, and he keeps saying it isn’t necessary.”

  “I’ll tell him about what happened tonight,” I said staunchly. “I’ll get him to wear one.”

  “I’d be grateful if you did,” Devlin said, taking the plates into the bathroom. Water began to run.

  “Can I borrow some clothes of yours?” I called hesitantly. “I don’t have any to change into. I don’t want to wear Al’s if I don’t have to, and mine are torn and bloody—”

  “When you shower, put yours into the bag in the bathroom, and I’ll have them cleaned today. My bag only has a change of clothes for me. I keep it in my SUV in case of emergencies.”

  Devlin returned, his armor plates cleaned of blood. He wrapped them in a cloth from his bag, stowing them inside.

  “Like rescuing women?” I teased.

  “I don’t usually rescue women,” he replied mordantly. “It’s women that usually need rescuing from me.”

  “For someone proud of that fact, you don’t sound very happy about it.”

  “Who said I’m unhappy?”

  “Monica heard what you said to me that night in the driveway. She recognized the poet. She said you were unhappy. And so was the poetry you quoted tonight—”

  “Drop it, Sar,” Devlin said, his back to me. “Isn’t it enough that I saved you when no one else did?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No ‘buts’, Sar. Don’t try to get inside my head. I don’t want you there. It’s going to have to be enough for you that that I took bullets for you yet again.”

  I almost blurted out that he’d owed me those bullets from way back, but thought better of it. He had rescued me. I was in a strange city miles from home with no money, no ID, no phone, no car and blood on my clothes. Who knew what had happened at home or where everyone was? Trying to contact anyone who’d been at Danial’s might lead to disaster. I couldn’t bring my human friends and family into this. But maybe Theo had tried to contact Devlin...

  “Can you check your cell? I don’t have mine. I want to know everyone’s okay.”

  Devlin pulled it out and checked the log. “Theo’s called five times.”

  “May I use your phone?”

  He hit a button on the phone and handed it to me. “Push call when you are ready,” he said, walking past me. “I’ll be in the shower. There is a guard outside. Call him if you need something.” The bathroom door clicked shut.

  “Thanks,” I called after him and pushed the call button.

  Theo answered immediately, before a ring even sounded. “Devlin?”

  “It’s me,” I said softly. “I’m okay.”

  “Sar,” Theo said, very relieved, “I am never leaving you alone again—”

  “This wasn’t your fault,” I said quickly. “Erin and Monica planned this.”

  “Monica was in on this? We thought she was the one who saved you from Manir.”

  That bitch wasn’t going to be thought the hero for long, even if she was dead. “She wanted Danial,” I said tiredly. “She was going to give me to Al to get me out of her way.”

  “Sar, are you sure?” Theo said skeptically. “The foxes were able to break through Manir’s guards at the compound because of the mist she made. Hans and Warren made it to the house to find you gone.”

  “Who’re Hans and Warren?”

  “Two of the newer foxes Danial hired. Sorry, I forgot you hadn’t met them yet. They found dead bears inside the house, but no Manir.”

  Not a surprise. Monica had needed to let him escape so she had a scapegoat for my death. Danial would never believe he hadn’t taken me after the attack ended, if I had been missing.

  “Where are you, Theo?”

  “Still in California,” he said grumpily. “It will be a few more hours until we leave.”

  I was angry suddenly that he wasn’t on his way, that he hadn’t dropped everything to try to rescue me. But that was stupid really. He’d been much too far away to be of any help.

  “Everyone but you is accounted for,” Theo continued. “Terian called us from your house hours ago. He, Elle and Theoron are there now with Janice and Ivan. They’re safe.”

  “Tell them to stay there,” I said wearily. “Danial’s house is trashed. In fact, he needs to call someone to fix his home, or he’s going to have to sleep downstairs when you both get home tomorrow night. There’s a wall missing in his bedroom now, and all the windows are broken—”

  “What the hell did Manir attack with? Heavy artillery?”

  “Brian knocked through the wall
so we could escape,” I said. “He is the one who saved me from Manir, the one who called Devlin. He can tell you all of this.”

  “The foxes say they can’t find him, Sar. He wasn’t there with the others in the house. The foxes looked for him first, knowing how closely he always watched you. We thought he helped to kidnap you, or he was dead.”

  “Then he’s most likely still lying by the road, in the trees,” I said angrily. “He got shot many times and couldn’t breathe well or talk. I thought you said everyone was accounted for?”

  “He either healed enough to go into a sort of coma, or he’s dead, Sar,” Theo said sadly. “I’ll call Aran. He’ll get down there fast and find Brian. If Brian’s alive, he can heal whatever wound is there, given enough meat and rest.”

  “Please hurry,” I said worriedly. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “And by ‘everyone,’ I meant you and the kids, the people being protected. Several guards are still missing. In fact, one of them is Monica. Danial is worried she’s not answering her cell.”

  Fury filled me in an instant “She’s out in the cemetery, Theo,” I said irately. “She tracked Brian and I there, trying to lead Al to us. She shot Brian, and then I shot her.”

  Theo didn’t reply. But it came through loud and clear that he doubted my story. That he thought I’d used this chance to rid myself of my rival for Danial’s affection. That made me angrier.

  “She’s hamburger, Theo,” I said flatly. “And I’m happy she’s dead.”

  “I need to tell him,” Theo said distantly. “Get some rest, Sar.”

  Immediately, I felt guilty. “Theo, I—”

  “I’ll see you soon,” he said, something missing in his voice. “Bye.”

  I pushed End and lay back on the bed, trying to sort out my feelings of guilt and anger.

  Devlin came out of the shower then, wrapped in a towel.

  “Thanks,” I said, handing him his phone.

  “Sure,” he replied, putting it on the nightstand. “What do you want to do about sleeping arrangements?”

  “What we did before should be fine,” I answered. “The bed’s big enough.”

  Devlin didn’t answer, getting his clothes from his bag, his back to me. I watched him in the wall mirror, as he rummaged through it, letting my eyes roam over him.