“Wrong answer.” Once again Mallok twisted his wrist, this time using so much force that K collapsed to her knees.
Anger flowed through his veins like lava, as he watched her struggling to mask the pain she was obviously suffering. But it was still several long minutes before K could take it no longer. “Stop…” she panted through ragged breaths. “Stop, please.” Releasing his hold, Mallok watched as she slowly crawled back to her feet. “Now answer my last question, where have you been all this time?”
With an icy look that was distinctly Kahjoul’s, K raised her gaze to meets his, “I was down,” she answered lowly, “I only awakened six months ago.”
“You want me to believe that you have been down for thirty years?”
In a flash, K charged him, knocking over the table and chairs as she slammed him into the wall on the other side of the room. “I don’t care what you believe,” she snarled, giving him a glimpse of her elongated incisors. Instinctively Mallok moved to protect himself and hopefully subdue her once again, but K was done playing submissive. Grabbing his hand by the wrist, she pushed her palm into his so that he couldn’t form a fist, then slammed it into the wall. “But you will take this crystal out of me.”
Much to K’s angst, Mallok merely chuckled. “Ahhh, there’s my girl. I knew she was still in there. Although I will admit I was beginning to fall for this submissive act you had going. Good to know you haven’t gone completely soft on me, because honestly, I was beginning to worry about putting you in front of the Council like that.” Mallok smirked as he met her reddened gaze head on, “Besides, I missed these fun games of ours. Now let me go, because we both know that I can’t remove the crystal until the Council has made a decision as to what your punishment will be. So we might as well talk and see if we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“I highly doubt that.” K huffed, maintaining her pin. But as angry as she was, another need was pushing its way to the front of her mind as his intoxicating scent awakened her painfully empty stomach. Grimacing, it was all she could do to keep herself from sinking her teeth into his throbbing jugular and draining him of every last drop of blood in his body.
Mallok, sensing her change in demeanor and realizing she was on the verge of turning completely predator on him, remained still and calm, “Why have you not accepted any of the blood I have sent you?”
“I won’t drink something if I don’t know where it came from.” She snapped, dropping her hold and moving away from him. “You should leave.” Knowing if she didn’t put some distance between them, she wouldn’t be able to resist the urge much longer, K moved to the other side of the room and took a seat on the side of the bed.
As he watched her move away, Mallok’s own anger began to waver, “Do you honestly think I would poison you?”
“Like you said yourself, I don’t know what to think anymore.”
As she lifted her hands to brace her head, Mallok could see the faint tremble that signaled she was losing the struggle to keep her craving under control. And while he desired to make her pay for the crimes she had committed against him and his people, it was not his intention to have her continuously suffering through the painful withdraws the lack of blood would eventually cause. Feeling somewhat guilty for having the Wanderers drain her before bringing her to him, Mallok heaved a heavy sigh, and pulled a knife from his pocket. Without hesitation he ran the blade across his palm and filled a glass from a nearby table with his own blood. Quietly he approached the bed with his offer.
K watched him intently. With a narrowed gaze she looked from him to the glass, obviously struggling with the decision. But in the end hunger defeated pride and she accepted the glass, downing it in only a few swallows. Within moments her hands had steadied and her breathing had leveled out.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly. “But thank you.”
“I am angry and upset K. But that doesn’t mean I am going to sit by and watch you suffer through withdraws.” Mallok sighed. Picking up a cloth napkin from beside the broken table he continued. “Honestly, K, all I want is some answers. What if I promise not to ask about that night? Would you be willing to at least humor me with a conversation?”
“Depends… am I talking to you or the Council?” she challenged.
“I won’t lie and say that I won’t share with them what I learn, because I will. But this is me you’re talking to K, the same man who has stood by your side for centuries against them.” While he waited for her to decide, Mallok carefully wrapped the napkin around his hand. It would be healed by morning, but he preferred not to drip blood everywhere in the meantime.
“Then ask me your questions and we will see if I can answer.”
Knowing asking something too confrontational would only make her throw back up her defenses, Mallok decided to start with something seemingly very minor. “Why did you change your name again? I liked Kahjoul.”
“Because Kahjoul is dead.”
Mallok, caught off guard by the harsh answer to a question he had intended to use as a tension breaker, frowned. “Dead? What happened to her?”
K dropped her head, avoiding his stare. Mallok had mentally begun to chastise himself for ruining this opportunity to keep her talking, when she finally glanced up at him with moisture filled eyes. “Her heart shattered the moment that knife pierced yours.”
Staring down at her downcast expression, he could feel the honesty in her answer. Gently he placed a finger under her chin and forced her to face him. “Then why?”
A single tear rolled from her eyes hitting the floor at their feet as she smiled up at him weakly, “Because she loved you.”
Chapter 3
The aching of his body coupled with the intense throbbing at the base of his skull, slowly pulled Jarod free of his unconscious stupor. Blinking, his eyes opened and he instinctually moved to touch the offending spot, wanting to get a feel for how bad the damage was. But a metallic clink halted his movement, making it clear that was not going to be an option. Groaning, he looked down through his foggy vision and wasn’t the least bit surprised to find himself secured to a metal chair with several heavy chains wrapped around his torso. Unfortunately, his captors hadn’t stopped there, another clearer survey of his situation revealed a set of blocking bands around his upper arms and another around his neck, and though he couldn’t see them, he was fairly certain the handcuffs locking his hands behind his back were the same. Finding himself restrained nearly to the point of absurdity, Jarod dismissed any ideas of trying to break them and instead took a moment to survey his surroundings.
He was inside a large canvas room that appeared to be a tent. A few feet in front of him sat a small wooden table with what looked to be someone’s unfinished breakfast sitting atop it. To his immediate right several small beds, neatly made with crisp white linens lined the wall, and to his left were a multitude of cabinets. Twisting around to peer over his shoulder, Jarod could see several of the cabinets were lined with what appeared to be a variety of herbs and vials of different colored liquids. Combine that with the distinctive smell of harsh cleaners and Jarod concluded he had somehow managed to find himself, yet again, detained inside a clinic.
“Having a déjà vu moment?” A voice called from somewhere behind him, “because I certainly am.”
Turning to search for the source of the familiar voice, Jarod strained to look over his shoulder, and spotted Mikel tucked away in a corner near a kettle. Shaking his head, Mikel made his way across the room, cup of coffee in hand, and stopped in front of Jarod. “You do realize that once again your unscheduled appearance has yet again forced me to close my clinic?”
“My apologies,” Jarod responded casually. Despite his current situation, Jarod instantly relaxed at the site of a familiar, friendly face.
Though he really didn’t know the man all that well, Mikel was someone Jarod held a high regard for. Even before he had risked his life to protect K from him when he and the inspectors invaded his clinic, Jaro
d had heard numerous whispers of Mikel’s good deeds. Even Maya had told him stories of how Mikel used to sneak into their house and treat her and her mother after her abusive father had vented his frustrations on them.
But it wasn’t just his good-deeds or even the fact that he was brave enough to treat Full-bloods over the span of decades that Jarod found so admirable. No, what Jarod found truly admirable about Mikel was that he did it all, never asking, or even expecting, anything in return.
However, looking at the healer now, it seemed these months since he had last seen him back in Vicaris had not been kind. The middle-aged man’s once dark hair was now littered with streaks of gray, his face displayed quite a few more wrinkles than it had before, and his body appeared significantly more gaunt. Jarod, finding it strange that a man who had lived such a stressful life outside of Oasis, had now aged and looked more weathered since coming to live in this supposed ‘paradise,’ frowned.
“You look like hell,” he said.
Mikel cocked his eyebrow and took a sip of his coffee. “Says the man covered in bruises and chained to a chair.”
Jarod smirked. “Well, while we are on the subject,” he coaxed, motioning his head to the chains, “do you mind?”
Much to his dismay, Mikel walked past him to the table and took a seat. “If I remember this all correctly, I am supposed to wait until you answer some questions.”
Running his tongue along the front of his teeth, Jarod breathed through his frustration. “Mikel, I assure you I am in complete control.” Then in a sudden flash of panic, Jarod looked all around the room, “Where is Maya?”
“She’s fine, a little pale and skinny but fine.” Casually taking another sip, Mikel continued. “She spent the last two days sitting here waiting for you to wake up, but after a lot of persuasion, Jaron was finally able to convince her to go with him to see the donors so she could feed,” Mikel paused as a slight shutter traveled through him. “They should be back shortly.”
Relieved Maya wasn’t in any danger, probably for the first time since meeting him, Jarod decided to seize his window of opportunity. Leaning forward as much as the chains would allow him, he resumed his coaxing of Mikel. “Then now is the best time. Let me go and I can leave the camp before she gets back.”
Mikel’s brows furrowed creating deep lines in his forehead as he gazed at him over the top of his cup. “And why would you want to do that?”
His frustration building at Mikel’s annoyingly calm demeanor, Jarod jerked hard against the chains. “Because she will be safe here. Now get over here and let me go!”
“And where will you go?”
“I don’t know. I just know I don’t belong here.” Jarod snapped, “Now let me out of these before she gets back.”
“Then why did you come?”
If he had had something to bang his head against, Jarod would have done it. “I told you! I needed to get Maya to a safe place!” Jarod expanded his chest and strained against the chains. A couple of links popped, but he was too drained and too exhausted to do any more damage than that. Dropping his head, Jarod sighed, “Please, Mikel. It is the best thing for her.”
After several more sips of coffee, time which he used to study Jarod intensely, Mikel stood and pulled a small key from his pocket. Jarod watched his expressionless face as he slowly approached and walked around behind him. He inserted the key into the loose band around his neck and with a single turn it fell to the floor. “Can’t she track you if you leave?” Mikel asked as he inserted the key into another of the bands and paused.
“If I get far enough away she shouldn’t be able to,” he answered calmly, hoping if he kept Mikel talking he would continue unlocking him.
“I see.”
Much to Jarod’s relief, Mikel turned the key and another band fell to the floor and moments later its companion on the other arm joined it. “And do you not think she will follow you anyway?”
“Not if all of you convince her to stay.” Jarod ground out, trying to remain patient.
“Why don’t you stay?”
“Look at me! Do I look like I am welcome?” Jarod snapped with more venom than he intended. Great idea, take all your anger out on the man holding the key, Jarod mentally chastised himself. But no sooner than that thought had cleared his mind, another of the lengths of chain hit the floor at his feet, followed swiftly by another, then another, until all that remained were the handcuffs. Noting Mikel’s hesitation, Jarod looked over his shoulder and caught him looking solemnly at the scars on his arms and back. “They are worse than before,” he said, before meeting his gaze. “And Citera saw the marks on Maya’s back while she was getting cleaned up at our tent…”
Even though Mikel didn’t know he was the cause of those marks, it didn’t stop Jarod’s gut from wrenching with guilt. Returning his attention forward, Jarod dropped his head. “Then you know why I needed to get her out of there… and why she is better off without me around.”
Silence descended between them and moments later the handcuffs hit the floor. Standing, Jarod stretched the stiffness from his joints, ignoring the pain that radiated up his side from the bruised ribs. Raising a hand to touch the back of his head, he winced from the contact. “Shit, that hurts.”
“It’s a bad blow,” Mikel said, strolling across the room and removing something from one of the cabinets. “Do you have any red formula?”
“No.”
“Well, then you are going to have to feed to heal it, but for now I put in a few stiches to hold it closed.”
“It will be fine.”
Mikel shrugged and headed back his direction, then presented Jarod with a shirt. “It’s one of Jaron’s.”
Jarod cocked an eyebrow, “I don’t wear white.”
“It’s all I have that is large enough to fit you. Unless you want to wait for Maya to come back with your bag.” Mikel’s lip quirked, “I think she suspected you might try to leave her.”
Jarod eyed the hooded linen shirt, shook his head, and snatched the white monstrosity from Mikel’s hand, pulling it on over his head. “What is the best way to get out of here?”
“The trail by the fields is the only way out, which means you will have to go back through the Core.”
Jarod groaned, not overly thrilled by the idea of having to walk through Oasis’s meeting area again. “I’ll figure something out.” Presenting Mikel with his hand, he bid him farewell. “Thank you… for everything. And please… don’t let her leave. Even if you have to chain her to that chair to do it, keep her here where it is safe.”
Mikel took his hand then met his gaze and held it, “Just for the record, I don’t agree with this at all.”
Jarod started to protest, but Mikel cut him off. “I am not trying to talk you out of your decision. I just want to be sure you have considered what this is going to do to her. Maya really cares a lot for you.”
Jarod sighed, “I appreciate what you are trying to do Mikel, but this is the only way. I know me leaving will hurt her for a little while, but she will get over it with time and move on. But if I stay and keep exposing her to the darkness that is inside me, I fear it will eventually destroy her.”
“So you do care for her.”
“More than life itself.”
Mikel released a ragged breath and shook his head, “I still think this is wrong, but I wish you the best of luck.”
With a nod, Jarod turned and exited the tent. Grimacing in the light of the mid-day sun, he pulled the hood over his head to shield his eyes and hide his bruised face, all while thanking the stars the awful thing at least had long sleeves to cover his bruised and scarred arms. Moving quickly and quietly down the trail, he weaved in and out of the trees to dodge the few other travelers making their way up this particular path. Repeating this pattern several times, he managed to make it to the Core without incident. There he paused, studying the large open design and frowned as a bad feeling settled in his gut.
People milled around the expanse, coming and going from
the different trails that branched off this central location, while others stood around in clusters, laughing and talking with one another, free from the worries of persecution they had been forced to deal with on the outside. Choosing to focus his thoughts on how happy Maya was going to be here and dismissing the twisting of his gut to nerves, Jarod took a few calming breaths, lowered his head, and pulled the hood as low as he could get it. Slumping down to give the impression he was closer to Jaron’s size, he took his first steps out of the safety of cover.
Keeping his head low, he managed to navigate around several small groups of people without difficulty, and was pleased that, for the most part, the majority of them seemed to pay him little to no mind. Occasionally, however, he would hear a random ‘good morning’ or some other generic greeting called in his direction, which he promptly answered with a curt nod as he continued moving past, hoping the gesture alone would satisfy their expectations of a response.
In the distance ahead Jarod could see the trail he was looking for and picked up his pace slightly. He was almost out of the openness of the Core and was mentally celebrating his stealthy escape when a voice suddenly called his name.
“Jarod?” the soft, feminine voice called from within a group on his left.
Shit. There were only handful of people who knew his real name besides Maya, and that voice definitely didn’t belong to Maya. Knowing if he stopped, he would never get out of there, Jarod dropped his head lower and picked up his pace as best he could without drawing any more attention to himself. His disregard to their continued calls, only seemed to aggravate his pursuer who then proceeded to shout after him louder, this time much closer than she had been before. Feeling the eyes of the Core turning his direction, he pushed on, only to have several male Full-bloods step into his path right at the edge of the trail.
“Move,” he growled lowly. The eyes of the men grew large for a moment, but to his disappointment they maintained their road block. Within moments, several more men joined their neighbors, a few of them with gardening tools in hand.
Forsaken (The Shadow Chronicles Book 3) Page 7