Captive (Igniting the Flame Book 1)

by Dani Matthews

  Something slams into my right eye, and I cry out from the unexpectedness of it. My body wants to topple sideways from the force of the blow, but yet I remain mostly upright. That’s when I realize I’m sitting in a chair, my wrists painfully tied behind me. I feel fabric brushing the tender skin of my cheek, and this tells me my head is covered with a hood.

  Damn it. Now where the hell have I ended up?

  “Respóndeme,” the voice demands.

  My head turns towards the sound. Is he speaking Spanish? “I don’t understand,” I tell him.

  “¿Cuántos años tiene?” the voice asks.

  Frustration forms within me. “I said I don’t know!”

  A fist slams into the other side of my face, and I see stars dancing behind my eyelids as I struggle to breathe through the pain. I let my chin drop to my chest as I try to sort out what to do. If I could understand him, maybe I could find a way to stop him from hitting me.

  “Patético,” I hear him mutter under his breath.

  My heart thrums in my chest as I wait to see what is going to happen next. He’s obviously angry that I can’t understand him, and with every question that goes unanswered, I’m likely to be punished. I quickly decide my best option is to pretend to be unconscious. I slow my breathing and leave my head lowered to my chest.

  I feel a fist grab the fabric of the hood, and my head is yanked back, baring my neck. I know that I might be meeting my death, but if I make a move or twitch, the questions will continue.

  A blade is pressed to my throat, and I force myself to remain limp.

  If I die now, at least I know I’ve done everything I can to gain my freedom. Yes, my plan backfired miserably, but I hadn’t given up. Nany and my father would be proud of me.

  The blade presses into my skin, and I feel a droplet of blood travel down my neck.

  “Mujer inútil,” the voice hisses close to the hood.

  The blade leaves my throat, and the fist releases its grip on the hood and my hair. I let my head drop back down, and I hear nothing but silence. I can sense him still standing there, and I wait.

  Another blow lands across the side of my face, and this time, I’m sent spiraling into blackness.

  * * *

  When I wake again, my face throbs in numerous areas, and my eyes feel swollen shut. The pain is agonizing, and I clamp my lips together as I fight back a moan. Instead of giving into the discomfort, I try to focus on everything else. My hands seem to be free, and the hood is no longer on my head. I’m lying upon what feels like chilly cement, and a weird buzzing sound is coming from somewhere above. I concentrate on the noise for a long moment, trying to figure out what it is. It almost sounds like a florescent light that’s flickering on and off.

  Am I alone wherever I am?

  I listen intently. A minute drags into two, and then three. Once I’m certain that I must be by myself, I cautiously roll onto my back and try to pry apart my swollen eyelids. They won’t cooperate, and the swelling is too severe for me to be able to see. I mentally curse. Without my eyesight, I’m completely vulnerable and defenseless. I’ve been in this situation before, but I’d had Brin and Andi with me. This time, there is no one to warn me what to expect. Whatever comes next, I will suffer it all alone.

  I draw in a slow breath and force myself not to panic. First, I need to figure out my surroundings, and I concentrate on my other senses. My nose wants to scrunch over the scent of piss and something that smells rotten. Wherever I am, it’s certainly not anywhere appealing. The buzzing above continues, so there’s probably light, but it’s useless to me.

  Very carefully, I rise into a sitting position and feel dizzy as my head protests. My stomach wants to empty itself, and I slowly inhale through my mouth as I try to calm the nausea. Who knows when I’ll eat again, which means the contents currently in my stomach need to stay put.

  After I feel steady enough, I cautiously spread my fingers and drag them across the cement floor. There are granules of dirt across the surface, and a dampness to the air. I still haven’t heard any movement but my own, so I feel more confident as I begin to crawl on my knees, my right hand moving across the pavement. How big of an area am I in? Is there anything for me to use as a weapon?

  I crawl around for what seems like forever, and by the time I’m finished, I know that I’m in a small room with thick walls that feel rotten in some places. I’m tempted to try prying back the rotted places, but I have no idea where it’d lead. Without my sight, it’s probably suicidal. So I rest my back against one of the walls and simply listen for any sounds. That’s about all I can do since there’s absolutely nothing in this room. I’d felt the door, but I hadn’t dared try to turn the doorknob.

  Feeling discouraged, my thoughts begin to wander.

  It’s beginning to finally sink in that nowhere is safe. The days of roaming the streets on my own have come to an unfortunate end. Lethe will never stop looking for me, and no matter where I go, someone’s always going to see me as an object to use or sell. As much as I don’t want to give up my freedom, being raped and beaten isn’t ideal, either.

  I’m assuming I’m going to be sold again, or I’d be dead by now. Who will I end up with next?

  Agonizing screams breaks the silence, and it causes me to start, my hands lifting almost defensively as my blood curdles in my veins. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s not coming from within this room, but from somewhere in the building. The man’s screams continue, and he sounds panicked and in pain.

  Chills creep down my spine, and as his screams continue, I press my hands to my ears, trying to block the terrifying sounds. Wherever I’m being held, torture is evidently acceptable. My breathing comes out in rasps as it quickens with fear. It’s a bitter taste in my mouth, but I can’t prevent it from rolling through me in waves. I’ve always tried to stay strong and not give into it, but right now, I’m genuinely frightened.

  Eventually, the screams stop, and I slowly drop my hands to my sides. The silence is thunderous, and I can’t resist tossing up a prayer to the powers that be. I pray that the man is dead and no longer in agony, and I pray for a way out of this horrific mess.

  Feeling cold, I wrap my arms around myself and huddle against the wall. Like it or not, Lethe was right. My freedom is becoming nothing more than a fantasy now that reality is beginning to sink in.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting there when I hear the door open, and my entire body tenses. The fact that I can’t see just makes the situation even more alarming, and as much as I want to try to defend myself, I don’t dare move. I don’t want to provoke my captor into beating me further.

  Footsteps slowly cross the pavement, and something drops beside me, causing me to flinch. “Beber,” the voice from earlier says curtly.

  I don’t understand what he wants, and I’m relieved when I hear his footsteps retreating. Then comes the sound of the door opening and closing.

  I’m alone once more.

  After releasing a sigh of relief, I use my left hand and search for whatever had been dropped onto the floor. My fingertips come into contact with plastic, and I grip the bottle and pick it up. Is it water? I inspect it the best that I can, and when I twist the plastic lid, I’m relieved to hear the snapping sound of the lid. The bottle hasn’t been tampered with.

  Cautiously, I bring the bottle to my lips and take a sip. It’s water, and even though it’s not cold, I drink greedily. My throat’s dry, and the water feels good on my parched throat. I’m careful not to drink it all, and I put the lid back in place and set it aside. I’m not sure how long it’s supposed to last me, so I’d better save as much as I can.

  At least I know he’s not planning to kill me. If he were, he wouldn’t be keeping me alive by bringing me water. Unless he wants me alert and healthy so I can be tortured.

  My heart quivers in my chest at the thought.

  I can’t think like that.

  Instead of imagining worst case scenarios, I think of a more positive outco
me. Maybe I’ll be sold to someone who won’t have the security that Lethe has. My heart sinks. But even then, just because I escape a clan, that doesn’t mean I’m free. My drakon blood will always be a problem.

  Lethe’s handsome face flashes in my mind. He’d tracked me several states to bring me back to his clan. He’ll come for me, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

  * * *

  I wake with a start as the pavement digs into my spine as something heavy pins me down. Rough hands are grabbing at my breasts and tearing at my shirt, and I smell stale breath across my cheek. I’m now fully alert as I shove at the hard chest above me, trying to push away my attacker.

  He just laughs under his breath and tries to pull down my lounge pants.

  Oh, hell no. This is not going to happen. I swing my fist at his head even though I can’t see through my swollen eyelids, and I feel my knuckles connect with his face.

  He swears at me in Spanish, and spittle splatters across my face before his hand slaps my already swollen cheek. I can feel his hips digging into mine, and I fight against the pain and open my mouth, screaming. I doubt anyone’s going to intervene, but on the off chance…I have to try.

  My wrists are pinned above my head in a steely grip as my pants are yanked down. “Stop!” I yell, trying to prevent him from pulling my panties down by shifting my hips away from his.

  I hear the door slam open. “No la toques!” the familiar, rough masculine voice snarls.

  A second later, the offending weight is lifted off me, and I scramble back against the wall, pulling my pants back up with shaking hands. I hear fists hitting flesh, and thankfully it’s not mine. The sound of a scuffle reaches my ears before the door opens and slams shut loudly, the sound echoing off the walls of the room.

  My rasping breaths fill the silence as I try to process what had just almost happened, and what had happened. I think I’m alone, but just to be certain, I stay still as I try to calm my pounding heart.

  For a long time, I sit there, waiting to see if I’m going to suffer any further brutality. Once I’m certain that I am indeed the only one in the room, I shudder. That was close. Way too close. I feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes, and I fight them off. Crying won’t do me any good and it accomplishes nothing. I swallow past the large lump in my throat as I feel my hope diminishing. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, and a part of me is kicking myself for fleeing Lethe. As much as I hate to admit it, he wasn’t a physical threat to me.

  A soft snort escapes me. Here I am regretting escaping Lethe. Go figure.

  I try to shove him out of my mind, because the last person I should want in my life is that presumptuous bastard. Yes, he’d given me safety, but his stupid warehouse had still been a prison.

  I’m not sure how much time passes, but after a while, I realize that I need to relieve myself. The attack had distracted me from my bladder, but now it’s begging for me to do something about it. I am not peeing on this floor. I tell myself that I can hold it until the man with the rough voice comes back. He seems to be in charge of me, and even though he’d brutalized me earlier, he’d brought me water and kept me from being raped. Would he begrudge me a real toilet? Then I make a bitter sound as I realize how absurd my thoughts are. I can’t fucking see. Would I rather pee where anyone can be watching or pee where I know I’m alone? Besides, if he cared about my comfort, I wouldn’t be in this room with nothing to ease my sore muscles from sitting on the hard floor.

  The answer is obvious.

  I hold my bladder as long as I can, and then eventually, I crawl to the furthest corner of the room and squat down to pee, mortification heating my face as I relieve myself. As soon as I’m finished, I pull up my panties and pants, shuffling quickly to the other side of the room as the scent of my urine follows me.

  I sit down, drawing my knees to my chest as I release a shuddering breath.

  Twenty-four

  Lethe

  I’m silent as Kai drives, and I can feel the disapproval radiating off him in waves. My jaw tightens, and I tell myself that I’d done it for Davina. It was the only way to make Arista see reason.

  Kai slows the vehicle at a set of stoplights, and he thrums his fingers on the steering wheel, his expression grim.

  “It had to be done,” I say, breaking the silence.

  “Maybe,” he agrees. “But that doesn’t make it right. We all took a vow upon entering this clan that we wouldn’t turn into brethren when it comes to our women. We’ve failed her.”

  My gut tightens. Kai is about as emotionless as a wall, but this situation with Arista has him visibly upset. I say nothing, because I’ve been feeling something akin to guilt, but I’ve tried to ignore it. I did it for Davina, and that in my opinion has made it okay. It’s not like it’ll ever happen again, I’ll make certain of it. And I’ll have a lifetime to make it up to Arista—not that she’ll ever find out that I was behind it all.

  The light turns green, and the vehicle moves forward as we drive through the intersection. “How can you be certain that he didn’t hurt her?” Kai asks. “I mean more than what you specified,” he adds with a hint of disgust in his tone.

  I sigh inwardly. Kai isn’t helping me feel any better about myself. I’ve never laid a threatening hand on a woman, and two days ago, I’d resigned Arista to that fate by another’s hands. “He owes me a favor,” I reply, my voice devoid of emotion.

  “So that makes him trustworthy?” Kai questions.

  “I made it very clear that he was to go easy on her, and in the process, make her fear for her life. Last I knew, you disliked Arista,” I remind, feeling disgruntled over the way he’s acting.

  “She’s a problem that we don’t need, but she’s still a woman. We don’t beat our women or sentence them to a beating by someone else.”

  “Careful, my friend,” I warn softly. Kai isn’t the only one unhappy with the way I’d decided to handle Arista, but none of them had dared voice their opinion to me. I will only accept so much bullshit from Kai before I pull rank.

  Kai says nothing as he drives.

  When we reach the compound, Kai parks the SUV, and we are led inside where we’re ordered to give up our guns. I don’t mind since we’re allowed to keep our knives, and it’s typically my choice of weapon anyway. I can feel Kai’s irritation over having to give up his precious guns, and I give him a warning look. Matias owes me, he’s not going to fuck us over.

  After the guards are certain that we’re now only carry knives, they lead us to a simple foyer where Matias is waiting.

  “Matias,” I say, greeting the dark-haired man with a closely-cropped beard.

  He steps forward and holds out his hand. “Lethe.”

  We shake hands.

  After I introduce him to Kai, Matias leads us through his compound and down to the basement level. We make our way through three secured doorways before we pause by another. Matias turns to me. “I must warn you, there was a bit of a problem.”

  I go still, because this is not something I was expecting to hear. Arista should have sustained maybe a bruise or two, nothing more. “What kind of problem?” I ask as I struggle to keep my voice calm and level. On the inside, I can feel a hint of rage slowly unfurling.

  Matias gives me a stone-faced look. “One of my men didn’t realize she’s a special case. He got into her cell.”

  I launch into action, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the opposite wall. “What kind of problem?” I hiss as I tighten my grip on his windpipe.

  I hear the sound of revolvers being cocked and readied, and even though I don’t look away from Matias, I sense his men appearing out of the shadows, their guns point at me and Kai. Kai probably has both his knives out—but they’d be no match against bullets. I’m sure my second is cursing me to hell and back.

  “I stopped him before he could rape her,” Matias calmly forces out, his voice hoarse from my grip on his neck. His eyes slide to his men. “Stand down,” he orders.

&n
bsp; The thought of Arista nearly being raped has me seeing red, and the murderous side of me wants to squeeze his throat until I crush his windpipe. “When?” I grit out as I struggle to hold onto my temper.

  “Yesterday.”

  My fingers tighten. “And I’m just now hearing about it?”

  “The situation was contained, she’s fine,” Matias rasps out. “He groped her, nothing more.”

  I stare hard at him, and I can see in the reflection of his eyes that mine are glowing with my fury. “Nothing more?” I echo softly. “Where is he?”

  Resignation flares in his gaze. “I was afraid that you would ask that.”

  “Are you going to stand in my way?”

  He holds my gaze. “No.”

  I abruptly release him and back up a step, my fingers flexing with the need to kill the bastard that would try to defile Arista.

  Matias straightens, and he calmly clears his throat.

  “She will be my mate, and now she’s likely traumatized. I want his life,” I state, making certain that there’s no confusion with what I expect.

  “Your mate?” Matias echoes with disbelief as his eyes widen.

  I ignore his question. “She was harmed more than our agreement. Someone is going to pay for that.”

  “You never told me she was going to be your mate.” He shoots me a reproachful look. “If you had given me all the pertinent information, things would have been handled differently.”

  “I want blood, Matias,” I bark out, growing impatient.

  Matias eyes me almost warily before he turns his attention to one of his men. “Bring us Pablo. And if you come back empty handed, you’ll be taking his place,” he warns him.

  The man he’d spoken to nods curtly and walks away, and a brief heavy silence fills the hallway.

  Matias frowns at me. “Why would you want such a thing done to your future mate?”