by Avery Duncan
He took offense, eyes narrowing on here. “You look as if someone died.”
Talon did not expect the acceptance that entered her eyes. He expected to see pain, maybe even a spark of her own anger. Instead, she wasn’t even hurt. Talon almost said something else, something worse, just to get a reaction.
“Might as well,” she sighed, putting the rim of the cup against his dry lips. The water was like liquid heaven. Sliding down his throat, filling his mouth, moisturizing his mouth as it hadn’t been in so long... he sighed, drinking more, grabbing her hand when she tried to pull it away.
“Let go, I don’t want you to get sick,” she said worriedly, yanking the cup back. Water droplets spewed from the half empty cup. One drop in particular held his attention. It slid down her chest, right to the swell of her breasts.
He swallowed, eyes darting up to her eyes. Her face was flaming red.
He was surprised that Auro and Lyne were not in the room with them, watching them. Hell, he was surprised they had even let him out of that cell. His eyes narrowed on her, jaw clenching. He had seen the way she clutched Lyne, stared up at him with adoration, with a desperate look on her face. Any man would have gave into her wishes with that look, he thought with disgust.
Lyne had looked all too ready to help. How long had he been out? he asked himself, staring at her harder. A bruise was forming on her cheeks, and her arm was already a dark purple, dark red lining the painful mark. It wasn’t half as bad as what Talon was suffering, but it looked painful, even for a woman.
She was not as associated with them as he had thought. He almost started to feel bad, when he remembered that she had been the cause of his most recent beating.
He snarled.
The woman jerked, hand hitting hard against an open wound. She gasped, flinching back as he growled and snapped at her. Yet he made no move to touch her.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, taking her lip between her pearly whites. A tic started in his jaw,, and he forced himself to release a painful breath. “If you hadn’t have moved, that wouldn’t have happened.”
He growled again.
She glared, the fire in her eyes shocking him. “Listen, you part beast part man — whatever you are,” she said, eyes flickering down to his already healing chest. “I’m trying to help you. If you’re going to bite my head off, at least do it when you’re strong enough to drink alone.”
Her sharp snap was greeted by a tense silence. He stared at her. She stared back.
“I don’t know your name,” he said haltingly, almost asking her for another drink of water. Talon refused to ask her for anything — she was lucky he was even talking to her.
The woman stared at him for a second, the debate clear in her mind. Tell him, or not tell him —
“Jamie. Jamie Saxton,” she finally said, a sigh wrung from her lips. She went back to dabbing the cloth on his chest, rinsing the blood from his chest and arms.
She didn’t ask for his name, didn’t even meet his eyes. Frustrated, fed up, he grabbed her hand and forced her to stop, making her look at him with suspicious blue eyes. “I am Talon,” he said, trying to remember his last name. Jamie raised a thin eyebrow at him, mirth causing her eyes to twinkle.
“Talon?” she asked, tugging at her hand. He nodded, staring at her intently. The hot water was the only amount of pleasure he allowed himself to feel. He dropped his eyes from her pale and bruised face, choosing instead to deny himself the pleasure of watching her.
“Like a bear claw?” she asked, obviously trying to keep up a conversation.
He shook his head silently, turning his face into the pillow as the stinging pain washed over him. Her hand dabbed even more lightly at his tightly drawn breath.
“You know,” she said nervously, the tangy scent thickening the air around them, “I wondered why you were here. Auro seems to hate you.”
“I wouldn’t know why,” he said shortly. Her hands were working magic on his chest, the light feathery touches almost undoing him. If he weren’t so wary of her, he would have shivered in reaction. Instead, he had to force the hardness at his hips to lower, to let the blood flow somewhere else.
Talon almost groaned.
“How long have you been here?” she tried.
He shrugged.
“Did they feed you?”
He turned his head away.
“Talon,” she said, quietly, softly, her voice but a gentle caress. Talon tried not acknowledge how caring her hands were, how the tenderness of her eyes did weird things to him. Just a glance at her face almost had him spilling the secrets of the world.
When he said nothing, she got frustrated. And started ranting. “I think that you’ve been here for a while. And that plate wasn’t for show — you just threw it out of the window. And your back... Talon, it looks like someone took a chainsaw to it.”
Her voice was broken, pained, at the end. He said nothing to confirm, deny, or acknowledge. The fact that she was even affected by pain that wasn’t her own shocked him.
“Why would you care?” he finally grated, reaching out a hand for the cup. She knew his pride would not let her help him. That is, until she saw the trembling in his arm. A sympathetic look crossed her gentle features as she handed him the cup, guiding it to his mouth.
Her hand was over his, her other holding his chin back. He wondered what she felt, what drove her to help him like she was. Auro would not have let her be so caring, he knew. The water sluiced down his throat refreshingly
“Because you’re going to get us out,” she said, pulling the cup from his lips and standing. His hand latched onto the hem of her gown, stopping her from moving. Jamie looked down at him with wary eyes, grabbing the material and pulling on it in her direction. “What?” she asked, nervous.
“Where are you going?” he asked, tightening his grip on the skirts.
“To get you water...”
He dropped his hand, ignoring the confusion in her eyes. Talon didn’t say anything as she walked away, listening to the sounds of running water. There was a soft sniffle. The water turned off, and she came back out.
Her face was clear of emotion, a now full cup cradled in her hand. As she sat down beside of him, something happened. Something frightening. Something...that he wanted. A memory — or was it a fantasy? — assailed him. Jamie was there, or at least a woman who looked dangerously close to her.
In her arms a bundle was wrapped, the soft wail bouncing from the walls. Her corset was undone, the dress partially falling off of her shoulders. As much as Talon tried to deny it, she looked beautiful — much like a goddess.
Talon was sitting beside her, not lying, and he had a hand on her slim waist. The feelings rushing through him caught him off guard. She was his wife, completely devoted to him, in love with her as no other had ever been. The look in her eyes as she stared up at him, a silent smile playing on her lips, said that she felt the exact same as he did.
The babes wails calmed, and in the silence it was serene. Fire played behind her head. The vision was so violent and painful, yet so serene and heartfelt. Talon felt like he was feeling an out of body experience, laying there in front of Jamie yet in his mind, he saw their death.
Jamie’s soft hand landed on his shoulder. He jerked, looking up at her with wide, panicked eyes.
“Talon?” she asked, peering down at him. The fear that she had felt in front of him was gone, replaced with concern. He took a breath, reaching for the cup. Talon growled when she held it back.
She ignored him. “When was the last time you ate?” Jamie asked, pulling back the duvet absently to look at his sunken stomach.
And all of the cuts.
He saw her face pale and forgot about his anger. Talon’s lips tightened, staring at her empty arms. There was no babe there, her breasts were not as full, and her dress was not sliding down her body.
Talon almost growled with frustration, then covered it up by groaning, shifting on his side.
“I think...” Her wa
ne whisper trailed off. “I think I’ll go start a bath for you.”
He didn’t acknowledge her. The shuffle of her skirts alerted him that she was standing up, as did the weight of the bed lifting. Then she gasped, and the soft patter of feet sounded before she was slamming the bathroom door behind her.
Talon stared at the wall. Why had Auro let this happen? Jamie... He growled softly, fisting his hand around the thick material of the duvet. He definitely wanted the woman. Her odd features were appealing to him, as hard as he tried to ignore them. The image of them burning together, her features so serene and happy as she gazed at him, came across his mind.
That was definitely not a fantasy. Auro and Lyne had known the woman would become a weakness. He suspected that Jamie knew nothing of how cruel and sadistic they really were, or she would not have hampered for Lyne on his behalf.
What had happened between them? He could recall, barely, Auro picking him up. The cold skin had seemed searing at the time. Maybe because he had been in so much pain, or because Auro really was cold enough to burn — Talon had no clue.
Just the thought of Lyne’s hands on Jamie’s pale skin caused his lip to curl in a sneer. He didn’t know the woman, and deep down he hated her with a burning passion, yet he couldn’t help but feel pity for her. Lyne must have put her through torture to let her into this room, with Talon in tow.
With ears that had always been more enhanced than was right, he listened to Jamie. He could hear the scrape of clothes, the soft thuds as things fell. His brows furrowed, and he brought himself onto his elbows, confused.
Was she changing? The thought left him almost shocked, but the emotion quickly fled. The only time his heart stopped or sped up was when Auro tied him. The only emotion he could feel was anger. The only thing he knew was cruelty. Talon remembered nothing of his life, and was glad.
It would only be more painful to know what he had lost.
Jamie opened the bathroom door and came out, hands in her pockets. “I could so order pizza right now,” she said, mockingly proud. He stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate.
He took in her new appearance. No longer dressed in wanton clothes, she had on soft looking pants. The shirt under her jacket looked equally as soft, much more comfortable than her previous outfit had seemed.
Her hair was down around her face. The change of hairstyle made all the difference. Her face, pale and unblemished, had stress lines. Her forehead wrinkled too much, her eyes were too solemn, her lips too straight. Her bangs were on either side of her face, the long curls framing it.
She looked like a dark seductress, despite the air of depression that radiated from her.
Talon pulled the duvet higher around his body, shifting his legs. He didn’t think she needed to see him as hard as a rock. A dark flush crept up his cheeks, and he was grateful she didn’t notice.
“I filled the bathtub for you,” she said uneasily, shifting on her feet. They were bare, the only skin she left exposed. He looked at her face, clearing his own of all expression.
Her little feet pattered against the ground as she came to his side, nervously touching his shoulders. It was like a chain-reaction. He tensed, she flinched. He growled, she squeaked. He stared, she fidgeted.
When they finally made it to the bathroom, the sheer disbelief that this was actually happening came over him in a rush. Her hands were soft, gentle, as they helped lower his trembling form into the warm water.
Right then, as he stared up at her, with her hair falling around her face, pale features worried, he knew he couldn’t let her attach herself to him. It made him angry that things had to be that way, but it was best for the both of them.
He might be over analyzing things, he might be thinking things through too hard, but the attraction he felt for her was strong, and by the way she stared at him when she thought he wasn’t looking led him to believe that if he let her, with her soft heart and kind eyes, she would become more to him than an accomplice.
Jamie listened to the harsh grunt that came from him, biting her lip. Her face was heating to drastic heights.
The man had a body to die for.
He was taller than she expected. More toned that she would have thought. It was obvious that he was malnourished, but plain that he had had an amazing form before this had happened to him. His skin was not as gray as it had been, and his voice, even though it was still violently harsh, had softened because of the water.
Jamie tried to look away, she really did. But as her eyes strayed over his back, the profile of his nicely rounded but, and then around to the front... She gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth and turning around.
He was huge. He was hard. He was hung like a fucking horse. The parts of her body that had touched his body came to life, fire flowing through her once again. The same exact fire that had attacked her when she had been cleaning him now flowed through her freely. If she climbed into that tub with him... Her head shook.
“Jamie,” he said, his voice unfeeling.
“What?” she squeaked, tightening her hand over her mouth. The thoughts in her head scared her. She could just picture him, his body covering hers, his deep voice at her ear. She bit her lip, shoulders hunching. Jamie was never going to help a naked man into a tub again if this is what happened.
There was a silence, and then an uneasy, “Get out. Sit down.” Her face flamed even worse when she realized that he might have noticed her condition. She grabbed the old shampoos from the counter and set them on the edge, avoiding even looking at him, and practically ran from the bathroom.
She fell into the bed, heart racing.
At least he wasn’t trying to kill her anymore, she thought. Jamie stared at the canopy above her, just now noticing the matching vector designs that the bedspread held. She wasn’t going to question why they had stacked the room as if people actually lived here — and as if they wanted them to like their stay.
Despite her better judgement, she found herself listening to the sounds in the bathroom. Not that there were any, she thought, face falling. Just the soft slosh of water that barely even counted as interesting.
His dark eyes entered her mind, and then the memory of Auro looming over him, his back bloody and dark from all of the hits. It amazed her that he hadn’t killed her yet, shocked her even. But it gave her hope that he would be willing to help her escape.
She couldn’t get too close to him. The slow attraction was getting worse. Maybe it was just seeing him naked that was doing it, but either way she refused to give Auro and Lyne what they wanted — and something that she couldn’t give willingly.
Thoughts of Chris entered her mind. The mental and physical scars that he had given her hadn’t been forgotten, nor did she think they ever would be. Her hands turned white as she clutched the duvet, pain and memories running around her head. She had forgotten the pain in her shoulder, so focused on Talon that she paid no mind to anything else. Her face had settled into a dull ache, and if she didn’t jostle herself, she didn’t notice it.
Jamie wondered what he thought of her. He must have some opinion about her, she thought nervously, looking at the bathroom door again. He has to, or he wouldn’t have stopped from lashing out at her. Jamie knew that he was close on the edge, could see it in his eyes. But she knew that as tortured as he was, he wasn’t going to hurt her — yet. Right now, he relied on her and she was going to keep it that way until the time came for their escape.
A loud curse came from the bathroom. Jamie was on her feet in a second, rushing to the door. She didn’t even steel herself for the site of his naked body before pushing it open. “Are you okay?”
Jamie froze in the door.
Talon has his arm up, over the edge of the tub. His legs were drawn up, bent at the knees. Her pounding heart quickly slowed. She was relieved. Jamie thought he had been doing something unmentionable, or at least getting attacked.
Instead, blood seeped down his arm in agonizingly slowly drips. She went to him, grabbing the towel as her f
eet carried her to his side. His arm was propped still, his damp hair resting on his forehead while his head lay back against the tub, eyes closed.
He turned his head to the side, away from her. “Bleeding,” he said simply. Yet the sound it carried held so much pain and anger, she felt the blast of it from where she stood. Jamie swallowed before walking forward. It was like taking care of a wounded tiger.
One second he’ll be nice, the next he’ll be snapping your head off.
Jamie knelt at his side. “This wasn’t bleeding a second ago,” she said uneasily. The quaver in her voice went unacknowledged, along with the soft touch of her hand on his arm.
His breathing was ragged as he turned away from her completely. Jamie tried not to take it personally. She told herself that he was only doing that because he was naked. But Jamie knew. He had been naked the whole time in that cage, it wasn’t that he was virtuous or trying to save her eyes from the site of him.
He had made it blatantly clear that he wanted her to fear his marks, that he wanted her repulsed by him. Jamie set the cloth down, staring at his back. The marred skin was definitely the work of professionals. Scars were deeply set, cuts were open and looked like they didn’t plan on closing any time soon, bruises were yellowing and some were fresh, the dark purple surrounded by blood red marks. His neck was strong, thick, his nape covered with damp strands. She swore his shoulders was the size of a truck, his skin hanging off of his frame.
She watched, entranced, as one of the smaller cuts closed, the flesh binding by invisible needles. Jamie wished she could deny that she had known in the back of her mind that he was different, that he could be like Auro and Lyne. Earlier she had watched the wounds mend themselves, but she was closer, the lighting was better, and his skin was clear of dirt and blood.
Her chest tightened. Dipping the cloth into the tub, feeling it soak up warm water, she brought the thing to his shoulder and began dabbing. The blood had spread because of the water, but she cleaned around it before getting to the actual wound. Jamie wondered if he could feel her trembling hand. Hell, she wondered if he could feel anything.