"Someone like me?"
Jai, where are you? You'd better hurry or else...
"Your blood," he replies.
As if reminded of it, he bends down and nips my hand, not too hard, but enough to break skin and send pain shooting up my arm.
I recoil, try to make myself smaller.
"Your scent." Once more he presses his nose to my skin. "It hints at a purity, a rare kind of gene that makes for strong descendants."
He smiles, a baring of teeth.
"I’m going to make you mine. Own you. Pump into you day after day after day until you breed." Greed, a look of pure lust, crawls across his features.
My gut twists at what he’s saying. And I know he means it. He’s going to keep me prisoner. And not let me go. A shudder of revulsion, of helplessness runs down my spine. I have to get out of here.
Before I can say anything more, his tongue flicks out over my cheek and something inside me dies. My knees reflexively press together, a pathetic attempt at hiding, and as if sensing that slight movement he grabs both my hands and yanks them up over my head so my knuckles crash against the hard floor.
Pain jolts through my body and I bite down on my lips, determined not to scream out. Knowing he’d use it and throw it back at me. Use it to hurt me.
He moves then, so quickly that I don’t even have time to react before he’s grabbed the two halves of my shirt and torn them apart with such force that the cloth shreds into pieces. Air hits my exposed skin, my chest rising-falling-rising with panic.
Crazed fright fills my eyes, blinding me till I can’t see. Giving up all pretense of containing my fear, I scream again and again and again until he slams his chunky palm across my mouth, gagging me more effectively than the netting he’d stuffed in it earlier.
But that only makes me struggle even more.
At which he simply slides down and throws one massive leg over both of mine. He leans his weight on me, holding me captive. I can barely move.
Panting, my breath coming in short puffs, I try to push my body further into the floor. When I make to bring down my bound arms on his head, he simply swats at me and flings up his free arm to hold that in place.
Lowering his mouth, he runs his tongue down my neck, down the exposed top of my breasts. Down over my waist, down to the core of me. It’s like a thick prickly brush is being swept over my skin. Revulsion crawls under my skin. I shut my eyes tight to avoid having to look at him. Trying to retreat into that corner of my mind where I can separate myself from my body. Where I can pretend it’s not me lying here.
It’s not me who’s being licked by this beast.
It’s not me whose crotch he sniffs at and pauses, blowing a plume of hot air that almost burns that most sensitive part. I cry out in pain.
It’s not me who cringes, whose skin shrivels, whose knees try to close in on each other on their own. He forces his knee between mine. Gripping the edge of my jeans with his sharp teeth he forces the zipper down.
He lets go of my hands, not even flinching when I rain blows on his head, on whatever part of him I’m able to reach.
He tears my panties off so roughly the material burns my thighs. A fresh wave of panic has me struggling, trying to move, to get out from under him even as the rational part of me insists there’s no way out.
He grips my hips, squeezing so hard that pain shoots up my sides, almost blinding me. Then he buries his face against my center, breathing me in again. The weight of his head is like a rock and at the touch of his lips on me, I feel terror, the fear so intense I almost leave my body for a second.
And then something strange happens. He groans aloud as if his body is being split into two, and the air around him shimmers, flares, black sparks flare out of his body, tinged with an angry red. It should be pretty but it’s not. It’s as if the raging arousal is forcing him to shift, forcing the beast inside to come to the fore. For a second I forget the terror inside, forget what he’s doing to me.
I’ve heard of how shifters shift but I’ve never seen it. And I wish I didn’t have to see this either. I wish I didn’t have to feel the ugliness inside this half-human take over. I wish I didn’t have to feel the sickness in him sink through my skin.
And yet a part of me realizes it doesn’t have to be like this. That where there is evil there is good. That not all shifters can be this perverted. And yet there’s a macabre beauty in watching this man turn into a beast. Then all there is, his hate, his loathing for humans, his need to hurt me, to take away what I cherish the most in me. And it’s not just physical, no. He wants to sink his teeth into me and take that essence, that which is pure and clean. And I know nothing will stop him now.
My stomach lurches, bile rises to my throat, leaving me gasping for air.
There’s no escape.
Even as that realization sinks in, I struggle again, still unable to move my legs. A fresh wave of panic jolts me. Fear cuts through my mind, almost blinding me with the inevitability of what is to come. Trapped. Can’t escape. And that sends another fresh surge of anger vibrating up my spine.
I cannot let him do this to me.
Cannot.
Will not.
Gripping the palms of my still-bound hands together, I make a fist and, heaving the force of my entire body behind them, I ram them on his head. There’s a sharp crack of sound and a jolt of pain runs up my arm.
He grunts and his body goes stiff. Then the black and dirty-gold sparks pull back as if sucked right inside him, settling back into the parts of him they had come from. He is in human form again. And he is angry. Maddened that I’ve stopped his shift. Desperate because I haven’t let him take me in his animal form.
Lifting his head, he fixes me with those coal-black eyes. Rage sparks in them. They darken further, turning pitch dark. A muscle in his cheek twitches, then he slaps me once, twice. Red, hot pain cracks through my head and the world goes black.
45
I come to flat on my back. I am on the bed, legs spread eagle and tied down. My hands spread out and bound to the bedposts.
The acrid taste of fear fills my mouth and something else from the gag he’s stuffed back in. A part of me notices all these details, yet I can’t take my eyes off him. The fear washes over me in waves of red and white, making thoughts blabber through my head. But something deep inside me asserts itself. Pushes up through the mindless chaos that I have become. I can’t give up. I can’t let this happen.
"So, you're awake." His voice is fierce, final. "You should be when I take you for the first time." I don’t hear the words, all I can see is the sword in his hands.
Jai’s sword.
If I die now it’d be by the blade of his sword.
And I know what I have to do.
He reaches down, sliding the sword under my bra with the intention of slashing through it, and I jerk up then so the blade cuts my skin.
Red-hot pain, more hot, more intense than anything I’ve ever felt, slices through me. It feels like I’m being sliced in half. Tears pour down my cheek as the agony bursts through my brain but already I know it’s not enough. It’s not deep enough, not nearly serious enough to kill me.
He flicks the blade up, my bra snaps apart but I don’t notice.
My eyes are open, fixed on his, anger burning a hole in my brain. I’m still staring when he’s flung away from me, off me, hitting the floor with such force that the entire boat seems to shake.
It takes my mind a second to adjust, to take in that the beast is on the floor, the sword has gone flying, and there’s another person in the room.
Even then I don’t believe it.
Not till the other man hauls him up and rams his head against the floor. And again, a second time, with such force that his head goes straight through the floor.
Something about the new arrival’s build is familiar – his height, the way he moves his shoulders. It pings a flash of recognition in my brain. But I’m too gone, too drawn into the nightmare that’s still playing out in my
head.
Then he’s hauling the beast up and throwing him against the wall. The force of the falling body breaks through into the cabin next door.
The man picks up the sword. He holds it up, and a shiver of something red-violet squeals up the blade, ripples up his arm, binding his torso for just a second before it whooshes up and over his crown in a spurt of sparks. He jumps, covering the distance between him and brute in just one leap.
A part of me registers that no one can jump like that. Not a normal human. It’s as if the sword is leading him, infusing him with a strength that’s more than ordinary. And even as I’m thinking this he brings down his sword on the fallen shifter.
Silence
Around me. In me.
The brute is dead.
I can feel it.
And I am still here, alive.
He turns to me then, this man holding up the blade, blood still dripping from it, and he’s running to me. He stands over me and I see him go pale.
The rational part of me, the one that’s been looking down on the scene as it’s been played out all along, recognizes him but I refuse to believe it.
It can’t be.
His arm moves and I flinch.
With a single swipe he cuts through the ropes holding my arms and then my legs, and suddenly I am free.
The blade clatters to the floor, and shrugging off his shirt, he leans towards me and I shrink back. A cry escapes my lips. He cringes but doesn’t hold back from pressing the shirt down on the wound on my chest. The pain bites through the churning in my head, and I cry out again, pinching my eyes shut.
‘Shhh!" he whispers. "You are safe now. No one is going to hurt you, I promise."
I refuse to believe him.
And yet a part of me finally accepts what he is saying, for my muscles go slack and the adrenaline that has kept me going so far fades away, leaving me limp. With that, pain erupts all at once. Agony washes over me and this time when darkness beckons I don’t resist.
Voices grate over my skin. Pain grips my chest, lodging there like a coiled fist. I try to move and a spurt of grief pushes against my ribs, threatening to break through the bones. My arms and legs are heavy, so heavy they feel like they’re made of stone. I try to open my eyes and I can’t.
The breath catches in my throat.
I begin to struggle in earnest then and a cry escapes my lips. A voice shushes me, "You are safe now, Aria, safe, do you hear me?" The voice goes on, this time closer to my ears. "He’s dead. He can’t hurt you again, baby, never again." His voice ends with a gasp as if he’s unable to bring himself to speak any more. Then my hand is gripped. And I know it’s him. But I don’t have the strength to squeeze back.
I let out a breath, forcing myself to relax. Immediately the scenes pour over me, through me, threatening to engulf me.
The beast slapping me.
Ripping off my clothes.
Tying me up.
Ramming into me…no, he hadn’t raped me. He hadn’t. My breath hitches, I can still feel that heavy weight of his body holding me down, that puerile smell of his skin as he loomed over me, that scraping of his tongue like barbed wire over my skin, and then the sharp, white-hot pain of the sword slicing into me.
Tears run down my eyes and now I don’t want to open them. Don’t want to come back to a world that’s so cruel.
The darkness is cold, soothing, comforting – a blanket I want to pull over my eyes.
A world that’s harsh. Animalistic. Selfish.
The cold tugs at me, seductive. I’ll be safe there. No one can harm me there.
Everyone only lives for themselves. And I don’t want to live, not for myself.
I’m coming. Wait for me. I sink into the depths, letting the shadows swirl around me, over my head. I let myself swim towards that golden light at the end of the tunnel.
I don’t want to live, not even for him.
My heart slams into my chest.
Jai. He’s dead. I saw him die. A fresh wave of panic hits me and I pause. Undecided. But it’s too late. In that moment of hesitation, when I turn back to the light, it’s gone. The darkness folds in on itself, traveling towards me at break neck speed, it sweeps me along, up, up, further up.
Up through depths I don’t remember traveling
Up towards the light. A hotter, harsher light. Nothing like the cool soothing light I’d gone towards earlier.
I turn, look back, but I already know it’s too late. The light is so strong it burns my skin, but I have no choice, I must keep going.
Up, I am propelled up and I break through the surface, the white so bright it hurts my eyes and I put up my arm to shield against it.
A voice, hoarse yet soft and familiar, flows over me. "Stay with me, baby. I’m here now and I’ll never let anyone hurt you again."
"Jai," I breathe out.
My hand is gripped, squeezed, and this time I hold on tight.
46
He lifts me up gently, so gently it brings tears to my eyes. I’m not aware that I’m clutching his vest, my nails digging into his skin. I want to feel him, smell him, bury myself in him. He feels safe, familiar.
I’ll never be safe again.
I shiver, my teeth chattering so hard the sound knocks around in my head. His arms tighten around me and he gathers me close, continuing to walk. My hands grab his shirt, my fingers brushing the sheath with the sword that he’s carrying on his back.
The sword with which Jai had killed the brute.
Jai.
He’s alive.
He survived.
I press myself to him, wanting to touch as much of him as I can. But it’s not enough.
I want to get closer.
Close enough for his scent to fill my nose. Close enough to fill my pores, to drive away the rancid feel of those hands running over me. Of the shiver of violence that has crawled under my skin. That is nesting there, and growing, darker, louder, drowning out my inner voice till I can’t hear myself anymore. And underneath it all, a flicker of anger. How could he do this to me?
I had been helpless.
Hadn’t been able to defend myself.
Is that all I am now – a refugee?
Someone the shifters can get hold of and mate and use to propagate their own species?
My nails dig into his skin, drawing blood, but Jai doesn’t flinch. My fingers brush the hastily tied bandage around his chest and I go still.
"How, how did you survive?" I speak for the first time since he’s found me.
He nods towards the man ahead of us who Jai is following to a jeep parked ahead. "Gilbert," he says. "He found me, revived me. The boat was still waiting for us."
His words come out in short bites. Like bullets of pain.
I wince as they grate over my skin. Feeling me shudder, his arms tighten around me. As if he wants to draw me right inside him.
"And he…?" I can’t bring myself to say it. Just thinking about the brute sends a shiver down my spine and I huddle closer. But I have to know. I have to hear it from him.
"He’s dead," Jai says, and something inside me loosens.
A wave of weakness sweeps over me. I’m not going to faint, not now. I let the feel of his skin anchor me, ground me. Swallowing down the sickness closing in on my throat, I focus on the bandage my fingers had brushed against earlier.
"You’re hurt," I say, my voice uneven.
His arms tighten further, pressing on my skin so hard it hurts.
But I don’t wince.
If it pains it means I’m still alive. It means I’m here with Jai and no longer in that nightmare.
"I’m fine," he says, his voice low. "But what they did to you; that I will never forgive. I’m going to hunt them down and—’
‘They’ll kill you," I say, my voice flat. "They’re too strong for you, Jai."
‘They underestimated me," he says. "They came after what was mine. Not once but twice. I can’t let them go. Not now." Barely are the words out of his mouth when a
shot rings out ahead of us.
Gilbert drops to the ground and Jai follows, pushing me down, covering me with his body.
"So this is her?" A female voice.
Above me, Jai freezes. I peer from under him and swear aloud. A group ahead of us. Leading from the front is the slim shifter, the one who’d been with the brute.
Flanking him are two large shifter males. Tall, so tall that they tower over the leaner, almost-human looking one who’s as tall as Jai.
He’s holding a gun, one of those large automatic weapons.
Next to him is the female who’d spoken earlier.
She has to be hybrid and yet she looks so very human.
Slim, just a little taller than me, and young, in her early twenties. Dark curly hair falls in a lustrous cloud below her shoulders. She has a delicate, heart-shaped face, below which she wears a black jumpsuit. The material clings to her curves. She’s wearing boots that are almost thigh-high. A gun is slung over her back and her hands are placed over her waist.
She tilts her head, her golden eyes looking first at me, then at Jai. There’s something familiar about her, about how she looks at us, but I can’t place her.
In front of us, Gilbert moves, and one of the bigger shifters is on him in a flash, prodding him down with his gun. He stays down.
"Let him up," she says, surprising us.
Her voice is calm, clear. She speaks with an accent which is unlike anything I’ve heard. It has something of the melodious accent of a Bombayite, but mixed with the guttural tone of a shifter. It’s strange on the ears, as if it belongs to neither side.
As if she’s both human and wolf.
The leaner shifter darts a look at her. "You’re not going soft on us are you now, Maya?" he asks.
She darts a look at him, and whatever the other shifter sees in them satisfies him, for he nods.
Turning to the shifter still holding Jai down, she snaps, a thread of anger still evident in her voice, "Let the human up."
At which the shifter backs off, his gun still aimed at us. He walks back and falls in line with the rest, then stands behind her.
Taken (Many Lives Book 2) Page 19