by Avery Duncan
Talon barred his teeth at the wall, jaw clenching as the pain in his arm amplified. He almost reached around and tore her hair out, but he knew how frightened she already was. He shouldn’t care, he told himself. He shouldn’t give a rats ass if she was about to piss herself because of him.
But he did.
Her soft hands, running smoothly along his back and his arm, had him squeezing himself against the side of the tub. He was desperate. To get away, to get closer, to turn to her, to turn away from her. Talon’s chest constricted painfully. Nothing he could do. Nothing he could say.
“Talon?” she asked, a mere whisper. Despite the lighting, bright and consuming, their proximity made it feel like it was dark, enclosed, comfortable.
He hesitated before answer, his voice nothing but a coarse scratch against his throat, his ears, even her ears. “Jamie.” Just saying her name was a blessing. It calmed, healed, made the pain durable. Her innocent hands lessened their pressure, before moving to his neck.
“It might be too much to ask — hell, it might even be too much for you,” she said with a bitter snort, her hands pausing on his neck.
“What is it.” He couldn’t force himself to say it as a question, Asking for something would make him feel weak, even weaker than he felt at not behind able to form a coherent question.
“We need to escape,” she said quietly, the trembling in her fingers returning. For a second, it had stopped, not now she shuddered behind him as if a breeze was in the room. Talon almost turned to look at her, to stare at her in disbelief.
He said nothing.
“Talon,” she said, her voice beseeching. Her fingers wrapped around his throat, seemingly unconscious of her actions. The warmth of her fingers seared him.
Talon’s lip curled as he wrenched himself from her grip. Familiar torment ran through him as he remembered the helplessness of Auro’s hand around his neck so many times before, of Lyne continuing the torture while he struggled to breath.
Jamie let out a high pitched gasp. He looked back at her sharply, eyes blazing, to see her leaning against the wall, legs drawn up and arms around her knees. He felt his heart turn over, the anger dimming only slightly.
“You think I haven’t tried?” he growled, jerking into a sitting position. He ignored her roaming eyes, ignored the becoming blush that settled on her pale face. “You think I haven’t tried, haven’t gotten beaten for my attempts? What would you do if they caught you — the torture they plan for you would be ten times as worse.”
Water flew from his hand as it lashed out, the slicing motion igniting fear into her already pale face. He rose to his feet, uncaring of his nakedness. “Stupid woman. They would only get us again,” he snarled, the vicious sound ringing through the room. “I don’t think you want to feel their hands on your skin any more than I do.”
Jamie’s only reaction was a stiff nod, her face lined with fear. When he stepped from the tub, the trembling of his knees was absent. A flash of relief ran through him when he realized he was not as weak as before. He forced himself to ignore the glazed eyes that stared past his head, forced himself to ignore the slow slide of the tear as it fell down her face.
His movements were angry as he jerked the towel around his glistening form. The scars bothered him minimally — he was more concerned about finding clothes to wear. He gestured to her with an abrupt wave of his hand. “Clothes.”
Jamie knew what he meant, but shook her head. Bitterness ran through her as he realized he didn’t want to help her escape, let alone speak to her. “I had these on when they took me.” She stood, hand pausing on the lock.
Her voice held a world of pain. “We could help each other...”
Talon roared, lashing out at the counter. “Get out!” His chest heaved, helpless fury running through him.
The door slammed behind him.
Jamie was foolish, still young enough to have a child’s dreams. Hearing talk of escape, of help, almost had him attacking her. Would she not realize that they were damned? His snarl ripped through the air, more animal than human. His shoulders tensed.
He tried to calm his breathing. She had taken care of him, had tried to help him get better despite her fear of him. He realized that she had only done that to help herself. Hurt flashed through him, then cold fury. It was as slick as ice as it slid through him, around him, inside of him. He wasn’t made to be cared for, and he would accept nothing that Jamie had to offer him.
Talon stayed in the bathroom, steeling himself against her. The woman was weak, incompetent, needy. A woman was meant to be used and discarded, and Jamie was no different. If that was what Auro and Lyne wanted in return for his freedom...
Then that’s exactly what they’ll get.
Chapter 7
“Auro.”
The bastard had incredibly sharp hearing, almost as good as Talon’s. It was just a whisper, a soft calling of his name. He knew he didn’t have to wait long before the man would show up.
Although he answered to no one, Talon knew he would come. Because his “pet” had called him, because he never spoke a word to them, because it was his call. Jamie was in the room, her light breathing barely audible. The rapid pulse of her heart filled the room, filled him. She was asleep, blissfully unaware of the door opening.
Talon refused to open it for Auro. The man had caused him enough pain over the months, and now that he had a sliver of freedom he refused to bow before him. The collar, while in the bathtub, had blissfully been gone. The strange magic the thing held angered him, because he knew no one other than Auro and Lyne could see it. Jamie would have known and would have tried to take it off of him, if she had been able to see it.
Soft creaks of the bathroom door opening had him turning, had his gut clenching. He almost puked, almost attacked, almost killed him.
But he couldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t capable of taking down Auro and then Lyne, once the brother found out that his dear sibling was dead.
The sneer that Auro gave him was chilling, disgusting. A deranged scent coming from him had Talon almost gagging.
“My brother and I were busy,” he sneered, stepping farther into the room. The door closed behind him.
Talon was grateful that Jamie had fallen asleep. It had seemed like hours before he had been able to calm down enough to call on Auro. He wanted to rip at his head, wanted to feel the sticky blood of his enemy running through his hand, but knew that he couldn’t.
He said nothing in response to Auro’s words. He felt sick as he realized what the scent coming from him was. Talon turned to look at him fully, tightening the towel around his waist. Still, he said nothing.
“That woman is lucky,” Auro suddenly snapped, the silence of Talon getting to him.
He merely raised a brow, leaning against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. He no longer felt like vomiting, but he barely restrained from coldcocking him.
“Will you say nothing to me? You took my from my brothers embrace. I had thought you would be ready to —”
“What, exactly, do you want Jamie and I to do?”
The question drew Auro up short. Talon took the moment to guard himself against the smell of sex, revulsion making the hair on the back of his neck stand. He stared at Auro, taking in his appearance.
He had his familiar dark garb on, his shirt was unbuttoned partially at the top, and his feet were bare. They really must have been at it, he thought with a curl of his lip. Not once had he seen Auro even partially disheveled.
Red marks shown beneath the shirt, the imprints clearly claws.
“I told you, and the woman, what you must do. What more is there to explain?” he asked, cautiously. He placed himself in front of the mirror, pale hands nimbly picking at his buttons and placing them inside the small holes. The damning red marks disappeared, hidden by the dark silk of his shirt.
Talon stared at him. It felt natural, but so natural that it was almost unreal, a dream almost. His nails dug into his biceps, r
eveling in the pain. “What happens when I fuck her?”
The blunt question seemed to have startled Auro. Then his lips pressed tightly, his crimson eyes staring at Talon through the mirror. “I don’t reserve the right to tell you.”
Talon’s eyes flashed. A dark brow rose. “So, someone is above you.” He knew the statement would make Auro angry, and that’s exactly what it did. Auro turned on him, his eyes like fire and teeth like daggers.
“I take orders from no one! This is between my brother and you. I refuse to tell someone so lower than me as you about his plans. To do so would sully all he has worked for,” he spat, his hand curling.
Talon waited for the slap, for the sting. His hackles rose, knowing that if Auro laid a hand on him, it would be ripped off...just like the rest of his limbs. Talon’s teeth flashed, snarling. “I will not touch her —”
“You will —”
He held up a hand, snarling, “Unless I am freed.”
Auro’s eyes held an indecision that made Talon feel like there might be hope. He unclenched his hands and set them on the counter, the setting so unreal between them that it almost made him believe it was a dream, once again.
Talon saw an unreadable look come into Auro’s eyes. Then his lips curled into a sneer. “And what about the woman —”
“I could care less. Do with her what you will,” he said, waving a large hand. The color on his neck seemed so heavy, it was like the world was weighing on him. It was a cruel reminder that he could do nothing to Auro.
The shock was quickly hidden by malice. Auro’s hands clasped in front of him. Talon stared at them, his arm pulsing. “Anything?”
Talon shrugged, ignoring the itchy feeling in his throat. “I will be free. She will be no use to me at all.”
“The price of you leaving...” Auro looked at him, a calm facade covering his face. “Alright. You may be free after coupling with her — but you will watch her die before I allow you to leave. Lyne will not know of this,” he said, lip curling dangerously.
Talon shrugged. “Seeing her demise would be no bother to me.” Liar.
“You know the ways of wooing a woman, I presume?” Auro asked, changing the subject. He saw the guarded look in Talon’s eyes. He scoffed. “How do you plan to take her if you cannot woo her? My pet, this would go with much more ease if you did not force her...”
He paused for a second, looking at Talon through the mirror, considering. “If you had more strength, though, you could overcome her weakness and take her...”
Talon may be a murderer, he may be a traitor, he may be whatever Lyne sneered at him, but he was not a rapist. The woman meant nothing to him, and taking her body would not change that. He refused to take an unwilling woman.
“I understand that you are a barbarian. But if you wish to be free, then put on a mask. Pretend that you are someone else. Convince her that you —” he sneered — “love her, or at the most care for her. The sooner you take her, the sooner you will be rid of her, and us.”
The promise of freedom was too much for Talon to pass up. Jamie was nothing but a pawn, a piece in a dangerous game. She would not be a loss to him.
Auro’s smile made his back stiffen.
“You have until tomorrow night to make this happen.” He left like a phantom, his words a whisper against his conscious, his presence as non-existent as a ghost. The air was colder, or at least it seemed like that. Talon slammed his fist on the counter, a great rush falling off his chest.
He slid to the ground, head light. If he weren’t trying so hard to keep his eyes dry, he would have sobbed with relief. He would be free --but with a price.
The price of Jamie’s life, and her ultimate betrayal. Of body, mind, and soul — he would try his hardest to overcome his reserves about touching and feeling, and Jamie would know nothing of it. He planned to use her, to take her, but she would not know.
Talon’s feet carried him to the main room, where Jamie had fallen asleep with such a fright in her mind. He shoved the guilt aside, wondering how he was going to even start this. Talon didn’t want to know what would happen tomorrow if he failed to take Jamie. He should give her time, give her comfort, give her...something.
He growled at himself, sitting on the bed. The towel was around his waist still, the water long dried. As he stared down at her, he wondered what would happen to her, and how he would take to watching her die.
Talon wouldn’t tell her of anything; that would be his gift to her.
Sheets rustled as she turned on her side, facing him. Her hand was curled against his thigh, face nuzzling into the bed. Foreign emotions riled through him — the top of them being regret.
“Jamie, get your coat on,” her mother came into the room, eyes panicked. Her normally cool demeanor was crumbling before her eyes.
She put the coat on without questions, lip trembling. “Mother?”
“Not now, dear. We need to go, we need to go...” Her voice trailed off as she ran from the room, coming back a second later with keys in her slender hands.
Jamie had been in her room, emailing a friend of hers from school. She had put off her homework, believing that talking to her friend about her cheating boyfriend was much more important. The pink walls had always been comforting, her bed as plush as a cloud. The desk was grand, white and full of papers and cassettes.
Her father complained to her often about the clutter, but she paid no heed. He would leave in a fit, and the subject would be dropped till he caught a glimpse of her desk. The only time she bothered to clean was when he had people over, but they didn’t come to her room so it was never that big of a deal to her.
Now, though, she had a feeling that this would be the last time the walls would be a comfort. The pink room, the happy room, was an opposite of what now pounded through her heart.
Trembling, she grabbed hold of her mother’s hand and tugged, even as she slipped into her loafers that sat next to her desk. “What’s happened? Why are we leaving? Mom, I have a test tomorrow,” she said, panic threading her voice, matching her mother's. “We’ll be back, right?”
Her mother didn’t seem to hear her. Clammy hands grabbed onto hers, pulling her through the room. The window was wide open, Spring air rushing around them. Jamie didn’t have time to look back in her room before the door was pulled close and she was being taken down the grand staircase. Alabaster handrails, a sweeping entrance, a noble carpet... It was all the making of a a US Senator.
“Mom!” she pleaded, pulling back her hand. Her mother’s hand was shaking wildly, her whole body following suit. She had a white pull over, her brown slacks elegant on her long legs. Blonde hair was coiled on her head, diamond ear rings dangling from the side of her face. Her cheekbones were high, and normally looked elegant and regal. Right now, though, they looked too pale, sickly, the tears falling from her face completely at odds with her outfit, her normally composed demeanor.
Jamie felt her heart stop at the site of a long car, men on either side of the door that was being held open. Right then, Jamie realized what was happening. She jerked herself from her mother's grip, fighting the urge to cry, to scream.
She held her ground. “I’m not going,” she said, steel lacing her voice. “I won’t leave Dad alone.”
“Baby, you don’t understand... You don’t know.... Please, hurry up and come with me,” her mother begged, reaching for her arm again. Jamie bounded back, feeling heat strike through her as her mother’s hand brushed her skin.
She felt cold. So cold, as if her soul was being torn from her. She was only fifteen, only in high school and still young and pampered enough that she had to rely on her family, but she had learned a few things in her etiquette classes — such as keeping a cool composure, something her mother was dangerously lacking.
“Jamie,” her mother choked, crystalline tears falling from pale blue eyes. “He’s going to come back, he’s going to be furious... Please, you have to listen to me. You don’t understand, Jamie! You don’t know, you need to
leave!”
Her desperate cries rang through the room. It seemed as if even the diamond chandelier above their head was trembling. Her head shook, her long pony tail brushing the small of her back. Jamie strived to keep calm, to remember what she had been taught. “I won’t leave him. He’s my father...”
“No!” her mother screeched, the pain in her voice rising. Her head shook veminently, strands of hair falling around her face. “Jamie, you don’t understand,” she sobbed.
“Mother...” she started, voice cracking.
“Please, just get in the car,” she pleaded, the despair in her voice almost making Jamie listen. Instead, she stole herself against the pain in her mothers eyes.
“I won’t,” she said, holding her chin high.
At that moment, her father came through the door that led to the spacious kitchen. His face, strong and hard, was flushed red with fury. His large hands were clenched at his sides. For the first time, Jamie was actually frightened of her father.
She backed away slowly, hands fisting in her pleated skirts. The room was turning hot enough that her socks felt like unsoftened wool against her legs.
Her mother blanched, jerking back. Jamie watched from inside the house as the men in the dark car piled in, leaving her mother there with a furious man and a stubborn daughter. Except, it was more than that. So much more...
Jamie wasn’t prepared for the hard fist that connected with her head, or the shocked cry of her mother and the image of her trying to run to the door. Her knees hit the tile with a sharp slap, elbows barely catching her upper body before her pulsing face hit the ground.
“Trying to leave me?” he shouted, storming to her mother. The only thing Jamie registered besides the hard stomp of his feet on the tile was the sound of their voices. The anger, the panic, the devastation...
Her mother made a choked sound. The ringing sound of a slap pitched around the room. The sound was as brutal as the act.
“I found out what you did,” he hissed. Jamie’s ears rang, blood rushing to her head. She dug her nails into the ground as best as she could, trying to keep from falling down again. “She is not mine!”