by Rosalie Redd
Ram raised an eyebrow. “See that you do.” He liked this new warrior he’d acquired. The male seemed to have more going on upstairs than many of the humans he’d turned.
Ram tsked. “I give the mutt credit. It takes balls to keep coming back here.”
“Balls or stupidity, either works.” Jakar folded his hands together, squeezing his palms tight. “Shall I supervise?”
“Not this time. Let’s see what Oliver can do.” A wave of dizziness crested over Ram. His vision wavered. The kitchen dimmed, and a smooth, flat surface, the color of day-old coffee, came into focus. His nerves tingled at the vision of the wooden platform. Ram shook his head to clear the scene from his mind. He glanced at the door to the root cellar then turned his focus on Jakar. He couldn’t keep the sense of giddiness out of his voice. “Our guest is awake. Perhaps he’s ready for another round.”
Jakar nodded, a sly smile crossing his face. “Splendid idea, my lord.”
Ram pushed away from the counter, leaving the cracked glass to swim in the spilled drink. The skin on his arms tingled with anticipation. Their new toy had provided endless hours of entertainment. Ram couldn’t wait for more.
Chapter Forty-Four
Chains bound Demir. As he crouched on all fours, hard metal bit into his knees and hands. Pain radiated up his thighs and arms. He strained against the bonds, but only succeeded in reopening the cuts on his back and buttocks. The scent of his own blood filled his nose.
Ram had a penchant for torture. Demir had reached that conclusion early on. The countless tools on the workbench—screwdriver, pliers, hammer—seemed innocuous enough until used on skin, muscle, or bone. He’d endured the torment, refusing to scream even when the pain threatened to knock him out. At some point, thankfully, it had.
He’d awakened a short time ago. Thanks to his Lemurian lineage, most of the cuts and bruises had already healed.
Anger burned deep inside, festering, building in intensity, calling to his feline predator. With his cat’s preternatural power, he tried to shift, only to have Ram take control of his mind. A feral growl erupted from his chest.
The door to his new prison swung open and crashed against the wall. Bright light from the kitchen illuminated the stairs and cast an eerie glow on the tool bench. This couldn’t be good. Demir ground his teeth.
Ram poked his head through the doorway. His frame and the cap he wore blocked the light. The shadow of an ax appeared, and a deep chuckle filtered into the room. “Wendy, I’m home.”
His stench preceded him as he sauntered down the stairs, the ax over his shoulder. “I’ll bet you haven’t seen that movie, have you?”
Jakar followed, like the little rat he was, slinking after his master.
Demir tried to wrench against the chains, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.
Ram giggled. Grab yourself and squeeze.
Demir’s hand reached to his crotch, and he fondled his nuts. A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead. His fingers clenched around his scrotum with a vise-like grip. Intense pain shot through his body and his vision faded.
No you don’t. Stay awake.
A muffled groan escaped his lips as he slumped onto the cut-off tabletop. The chains on his ankles bit into the skin and blood trickled over his foot. He didn’t even feel the cut, his body still reeling from his attack to his groin.
A part of him deep within accepted the punishment, considered it justice for killing Aramie, the one female that had ever stood up to him. As much as she made him feel whole, he didn’t deserve her. A lump formed in his stomach, adding insult to injury.
Ram hefted the ax, sizing up Demir, but then he shrugged and placed the tool against the wall. “This would cause too much damage. It’s not my intent to kill you…not yet, anyway.”
With a smirk, he sauntered over to the workbench and pawed through the tools and debris. He selected a pick and pressed the pointed tip against his thumb. The skin dimpled, but the instrument didn’t penetrate the tissue. He looked at Jakar and shook his head. Selecting a hammer, he hefted the heavy utensil in his palm as if testing the weight, then put it back on the table.
The evil Gossum hummed to himself. He glanced at Demir and winked.
Demir wanted to growl, to kick, to lash out anyway he could, but he couldn’t break the hold Ram had over him. His frustration knew no bounds.
Ram grasped a box knife between his fingers and pressed the latch, inching the small cutting tool out of its case. The edge of the razor blade glinted in the light. “Such a simple implement.” His tongue snaked out and cracked the air like a whip. “This will do nicely.”
Naked and bleeding in front of his enemy, Demir didn’t think his humiliation could get any worse.
He couldn’t prevent the impending torture, so he searched for a distraction, something to concentrate on besides his pain. Visions of Aramie entered his mind, her last breath exhaling from her body as he bit into her shoulder. His chest ached, chasing away the physical pain, but spurring an emotional burden that was beyond compare. He deserved whatever Ram gave him. A part of him wanted to suffer, to pay for what he’d done to Aramie, but no amount of torture could ever be enough to erase his anguish.
“Let’s start simple, shall we?” Ram trailed the edge of the blade across Demir’s bicep. A thin line of blood pooled from the cut and a drop landed on the wooden table.
Ram’s cackle raced along Demir’s nerves, sending a new wave of anger through his body. He strained against the bonds, but couldn’t break free. The evil Gossum wiped his finger through the blood and brought his hand to his face. He sniffed. “And you think we smell bad. Your kind reeks of…integrity and honor. How utterly revolting.”
Integrity and honor? He’d never been described like that before. My, how he’d changed. Aramie had done that to him. The reminder of his dead mate caused a wave of anger to flood his system, blurring his vision. Demir gritted his teeth, and focused his attention on Ram’s eyes. He longed to scratch them out with his claws and watch as the evil creature screamed under the torment.
“Ah, you have something to say, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.” Ram smiled and loosened his hold on Demir’s vocal cords. “Speak, cat, speak.”
Anger burned deep in his soul. “I will kill you for what you made me do to Aramie. Your black sludge will be on my hands.”
“Demir, Demir, you are such a comedian.” Ram’s smile faded. “Enough games. Let’s get down to business. I want you to scream loud enough so Zedron can hear you on Lemuria. Besides, I get a thrill through our connection when I feel your…discomfort.”
Demir hadn’t realized there were so many ways a plain box knife could inflict injury. Even as the pain hit a new threshold, he refused to cry out. He’d honor his memory of Aramie and spite Ram in the process. His last vision before he passed out—Aramie’s red barrette and her beautiful smile.
*****
Aramie hid behind the trunk of a tall alder tree. Downwind from the Gossum’s lair, she peered around the tree—watching, waiting. The farmhouse was a far cry from the asylum, the Gossum’s last hiding place. The old mental institution was creepy, but the building didn’t hold a candle to the eerie vibe of cheerful and homey which radiated from the farmhouse. A shiver ran over her shoulders and up the back of her neck, raising her hackles.
The door opened and a single Gossum emerged. He jumped off the porch and headed to the barn. Not far behind, a group of his peers followed, some leaping over the porch railing, others bounding down the stairs.
One Gossum stopped in the unmowed lawn, the grass blowing against his faded jeans in a gentle caress. He sniffed the air. His dark eyes scanned the landscape. A quick rush of adrenaline sent her heart racing. Had he caught her scent? She leaned back and blended into the background.
The lone male’s boots swishing through the grass floated by on the breeze. The sound faded as he followed his brood. She relaxed, the muscles in her shoulders releasing her tension.
Demir. Her chest constri
cted. He’d left her to die. How would he react when he saw her? She didn’t know, but she couldn’t leave him. He wouldn’t hurt one of his own—especially not her—not without cause. Steeling herself, she unhooked the safety latch that bound her throwing stars.
The empty yard and still house beckoned, and she couldn’t resist its call. The grass swished under her feet, slowing her down as if the long strands were fingers trying to hold her back. She used her preternatural vision and acute hearing to assess if anyone remained in the house. All seemed quiet within the structure.
She didn’t have much time. Once they found the goat wrapped in her coat, they’d know she was here. She needed to find Demir before they returned. With soft footsteps, she crept to the stairs. The unpleasant scent of Gossum wafted by on the breeze.
Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. The lone Gossum with the faded jeans hid behind a bush at the corner of the house. Their eyes locked.
The creature burst from his cover and raced full tilt toward her. She launched one of her old throwing stars. The creature dodged at the last second, but the metal piece lodged itself in his shoulder. Blood oozed from the wound, but her attack didn’t seem to slow him.
His tongue lashed out, coming dangerously close to her face. She changed into her cat and let her animal instincts take over. Her claws slashed into his chest. The scream that rent from his mouth made her smile, but it also alerted the others to her whereabouts. That was bad news.
She might be trapped on the porch, but she wouldn’t give up her ground. Backing toward the stairs, her claws found purchase in the worn wood. Hoots and hollers from the lawn raised her hackles. She growled, straightening her spine.
Three Gossum jumped on the porch, two to her right and one to her left. The male she’d fought pulled her throwing star from his shoulder and threw the weapon on the ground. He bared his serrated teeth and tensed, preparing to attack.
Unwilling to go down without a fight, she met him halfway.
The impact knocked the wind from her lungs. She scraped her claws over his torso, ripping into his flesh.
A weight descended on her, crushing her to the ground. Teeth bit into her shoulder, her leg, her haunch. She kicked and scratched, tearing into as much flesh as she could before a large fist hit her in the face. Darkness claimed her.
Chapter Forty-Five
Aramie woke to blood, sweat, and the astringent scent of Gossum. The pain in her shoulder competed with the ones on her leg and butt, but her left eye was the humdinger. The pain pulsed along with her increasing heartbeat. Gravel and bits of rough dirt bit into her face and arm. An awareness of the ground beneath her crept into her mind.
She opened her eyes and the dim light from a bare lightbulb was enough to make her squint. Earthen walls came into focus along with a tall staircase which ended in a closed door. Cobwebs hung between the railing posts. Goosebumps formed on her arm.
As she inhaled, a hint of musk and incense filtered through the other scents. Demir! She sat up, but a wave of dizziness forced her back down. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on breathing.
“Ah, welcome, Aramie. So good of you to join us.” Ram’s voice penetrated into her thick skull and sent a shiver of dread along her arms.
He bent down, his face mere inches from hers. “It’s a good thing you showed up when you did. With Demir, I was getting…bored.”
She tried to scratch him, but her pounding head slowed her reactions, and he moved out of the way with ease. A low answering growl filled the enclosure, one she recognized. She glanced around, searching for Demir.
He crouched on an old, sawed off table, his face contorted into a bizarre mask of anger and rage. One knee was on the ground, the other covered his bare chest. He was completely naked. Shackles enclosed his wrists and ankles. Open red cuts and dried blood ran over his arms and legs, evidence of his struggles. He straightened at her perusal, his backside hidden from her view. Blood coated the platform, more than what could’ve come from the manacles.
She looked into his eyes. Red-rimmed and bloodshot, he wasn’t the male she’d grown to love. A lump formed in her throat. She placed her hand on her belt. Her old throwing stars were gone, but the new ones from the Jixie blacksmith were still hidden in the lining under her belt.
“Oliver. Can you see anything through her eyes?” Ram asked.
The male with the pale blue jeans sauntered over to her. He furrowed his brow, his gaze penetrating hers. “No. Nothing.”
Ram knocked his hand on the counter and a screw fell to the ground. The small piece of hardware twirled back and forth a few times before coming to rest. “When she was captured, who else bit her?”
A Gossum with an oversized nose raised his hand.
Ram nodded. “You try. See if you can control her.”
The male approached and crouched, but not close enough for her to reach him. He studied her face. She curled her lip and displayed her fangs.
The male flinched.
“I take it you didn’t cause that.” Ram tsked. He glanced at Demir. “Well, boy, it seems you and I have a special bond.”
Of course they did, courtesy of the blue sunstone, but she wasn’t about to tell her enemy. Let him think he had a chance to control others.
Aramie peered at her mate. His pale face remained expressionless, his eyes distant.
“Demir…” she called to him.
He didn’t even blink.
“My, my, I think we could have some fun with this.” Ram clapped his hands together, and the sound echoed around the room. “Oliver, take your buddies and go watch TV or help Jakar. I think he’s tending to the goat, again.” He waved his hand in the air in a dismissive gesture.
Oliver, the same male who’d taken her down, glared at her. His assessing gaze roamed her face. “The goat was a nice distraction, but it didn’t work.”
He looked at Ram and raised a hairless eyebrow. “You gonna be all right by yourself?”
Ram pursed his lips. “No need to worry your pretty bald head over me. Now, off with you.”
The males raced up the stairs, their claw-like nails clicking on each wooden step. Alone with Ram, she didn’t feel any better. His lip curled at the corner. Behind those dark eyes, he wasn’t quite sane.
She struggled to her feet. A rush of adrenaline to her head nearly brought her down again, the white spots growing in her vision. With effort, she gripped the edge of the nearby counter to steady herself. The venom from the bite marks wasn’t enough to kill her, but it slowed her movements. She’d mend—if she survived.
“Demir.” She snapped her fingers, trying to get his attention. “You can fight this.”
The look he gave her didn’t ease her any. On the contrary, a kernel of dread formed in her gut. A grin of his own spread across his face. At that moment, a part of her died inside.
*****
Demir fought with all his strength, pushing against Ram and his relentless control. When they’d brought his female here, her sweet scent had filled his senses, and he’d nearly lost his mind. He’d thought she was dead. To find out she was alive had set off a protective reaction that was all mated male. Like an untamed beast, he’d fought Ram tooth and nail, but in the end, he’d lost. Ram’s iron-clad control was complete.
Defeated, a failure—he didn’t deserve her. In the end, his father had been right all along. He was weak and always would be.
Yes, you’re weak. You’ll prove that yet again before we’re done. Demir tried to lash out at Ram, his frustration getting the better of him, but his hand remained on his knee, unmoving.
Ram strode over to Demir and patted his head, caressing his locks as if he were a pet. Heat ran up Demir’s neck and into his face. The humiliation in front of his female was more than he could stand.
Ram bent down and stroked Demir’s goatee. “How would you like to play a game? Hmm?” He glanced at Aramie.
“Well, sure, that sounds great.” Ram’s high-pitched tone was a mockery of Demir.<
br />
Ram turned and faced Aramie. “Are you ready, my dear?”
She spit on the ground at Ram’s feet. “Go fuck yourself.”
“Ah, child, I wish I could.” His low chuckle reverberated around the room.
He unlocked the manacles at Demir’s feet. The heavy chains fell away, but Demir didn’t move. He stayed in his crouched position. Next, the locks at his wrists opened and clanked when they hit the floor.
Stand up. The command made Demir wince. He wanted to do more than stand, he wanted to fight. Although he strained against the invisible bonds, his body wasn’t under his control. Against his will, he faced Aramie and his enemy.
Turn around.
No. Demir’s hand fisted. He couldn’t tell if he’d done that or Ram.
Turn. Around. The command screamed in his mind, bouncing against his skull. The pain was more than he imagined and broke his concentration. His body turned against his wishes.
He tensed. Aramie would see his scars—his weakness. Demir couldn’t look at her. He didn’t want to see the pity in the lines of her beautiful face. Not Aramie, it would kill him as surely as an arrow to his heart.
Seconds ticked by. The only sound, Ram’s soft, grating cackle.
He couldn’t stand it any longer and turned toward her. At this point, he wasn’t sure if Ram controlled him or if he did this of his own free will, but in either case, he needed to see her face.
She stood rigid, her rapt attention focused on him. Her eyes widened for a brief moment, and then she met his gaze. Instead of pity, her eyes reflected a deep respect.
When she spoke, her voice cracked. “Demir…you are so strong, so powerful.” Determination lined the creases around her eyes. “You can fight this—fight him. I know you can.”
Ram’s rough cackle filled the room. “Oh, Demir, Demir. Please tell the little lady how you got your beautiful scars. I’m sure she’d like to know.”
Demir strained to keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled from his lips. “My father beat me…every time I failed to meet expectations.” His chest ached at the confession.