by L. J. Stock
“I apologize for your quarters, but you appreciate that we must be cautious.”
“What does it matter to you?” I snapped, immediately chastising myself for taking his bait. I hated my anger sometimes. It constantly got me into trouble. I could almost feel the waves of amusement rolling from him, even if I couldn't see it reflected in his features.
“I'm not an animal, Princess.”
I snorted, my hands coming to rest on Rasmus' shoulders so I could get some type of reading from his body language. When I failed to respond, Grigori seemed to take it as an invitation to continue.
“We all have a job to do. I understand that you see us as the evil party, but have you thought to see it from our perspective? Do you not see how we would want some liberation? In our eyes, you and your father are a threat to us and our way of life.”
Rasmus' muscles tensed under my palms and I held my tongue. The flex was a warning not to listen, to not buy into the lies Grigori was offering us. I knew I shouldn't have been interested in what he was saying. He was trying to confuse me. Still, I found myself looking at things from their perspective. I supposed if all you knew was a tyrannical ruler who was hungry for power as your rightful king, it would seem he was in the right. However, I knew that Thánatos' greed for power was the only thing pushing his hunger for the throne and dictatorship of this entire world. He would not only kill my family and me; he would destroy both worlds, which would leave no life behind. Not even for the idiots who thought he was right.
I kept my silence as I watched him from behind Rasmus. He seemed patient as he stood there, not even a muscle twitching in the only exposed skin of his body. It was eerie.
“What do you want?” Rasmus asked in a growl.
“Too keep you alive.” It was the only answer he was willing to give before he got back to the reason for his visit. “In order to do that, you need to rehydrate. As it stands, the two of you together will decimate the troops I plan to use to help you, even in your weakened state, and you cannot go much longer without fluids, but as you both know I cannot risk giving you water. You have two ways of doing this—you fight us and risk being injured, or you let us do what we must and stay calm and compliant. Either way, I will get my way.”
“You want us to stand back and let you force-feed us again?” Rasmus laughed sardonically. He was like a tension-filled rock under my hands. I could almost feel the anger rolling from him.
“Warrior, you are expendable. You're kept alive only to placate the princess. I would advise you to heed the warning. You're both weak from lack of water by design. My troops will overpower you and I highly doubt you will enjoy the consequences should you choose to fight.”
“I will always fight you.”
Grigori brought his gloved hands together in front of him and shook his head in slow measured movements. He seemed disappointed. Rasmus seemed to be preparing himself for attack as he stood rigidly in front of me. I wanted to tell him to relax, but I knew he was here to protect me and he would do everything in his power to accomplish it to the best of his ability.
“Then you leave me no choice. My apologies,” Grigori said quietly from behind his mask.
He nodded and walked away as a group of black uniformed men lined the wall with long pipes in their hands. Their red masks were still firmly in place, but these were different. They had a mouthpiece in them.
“Stay behind me,” Rasmus whispered. “No matter what happens, you stay behind me.”
“You got it,” I mumbled nervously, balling his shirt in my fist as the guards rose the pipes to their mouthpieces.
There was only a second to even try to put a plan in place, but plans were useless. This was like facing a firing squad with poisoned darts. The small darts seemed like a strange way to attack us. It was something that had been used in the movies that I'd never thought was real. Yet, once again, this dimension was shocking the hell out of me with its ancient ways of dealing with things.
I did as Rasmus asked and stayed behind him, but as small darts entered the cell, using his body as protection was pointless. Rasmus got hit first and fell to the ground hard, leaving me with no cover, exposed to the men with the tubes. Pushing back my need to check on him, I dodged the onslaught of darts for only a second before the sting of one in my arm alarmed me enough to pull it out and look at the line of soldiers with accusation before the whole world went dark.
Chapter Six
I woke up with my brain feeling as though it was too big for my skull, and the moment I attempted to open my eyes, I had to squeeze them shut again. My head throbbed painfully, making it impossible to lift, yet the insatiable thirst I'd had before was gone. It took me a while to remember what had happened, but all too soon the memories came rushing back with painful accuracy. Rasmus and I had been knocked out by the soldiers.
Ignoring the pain in my brain, I lifted my head to check on him. As my eyes scanned the dimly lit cell, he was nowhere to be found, and the panic I'd been able to stave off up to that point came rushing over me. I tried climbing to my feet three times before I actually succeeded, and I still needed the aid of the walls to keep me steady as my hands gripped the sides of my head to keep it on my shoulders.
“Ras?” I called out, stumbling toward the iron bars holding me captive inside the cell.
When there was no answer, my panic turned to terror. They wouldn’t have killed him, surely? But then, what had they done with him? Grigori had said they were keeping him alive only to placate me. What if they'd changed their minds and decided Rasmus had outlived his usefulness?
Emotion thickened my throat as I reached out to the bars, swiping twice before I managed to get a grip on one of them and searched the narrow passage through narrowed, pain filled eyes.
“Rasmus!” I shouted as loud as I could, my voice hoarse and borderline hysterical. If he was there, I needed him to answer me. I had to know he was alive and well, but the more the silence persisted, the more I began to believe he could be dead. Once again the walls of my prison began closing in on me. The impossibility of facing what was coming alone and losing the only family I had here made my chest tighten to the point that I wanted to just curl into a ball and give up completely.
I stumbled along the stone, my hands running over the cold, uneven surface as I tried to force back my tears. I had to box up my devastation until I either died or got the hell out of here. I was alone, but it didn’t mean the plan had changed. I’d made a promise to Damon and I fully intended to keep it.
My legs were like jelly below me, and I tried to stay on them but it was impossible. I collapsed onto my knees in the straw, my hands landing in the rough strands, which offered no comfort. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have thought I could make a change in this world while I wore this target on my back?
Collapsing onto my side, I pulled my knees to my chest and willed the room to stop spinning around me. If I continued trying to move I would end up throwing up all of the liquid they'd given me, and I was certain it would evaporate considering even the damp spot on the stone hadn’t so much as left a stain.
I was completely alone now, and it terrified me. Rasmus had been my only solace in this place, and his absence was showing me just how much I’d taken that for granted. I had no idea where he was or even whether he was still alive. The possibility of his death was another weight on my conscience, one I wasn’t sure I’d ever lose.
“Cass?”
I lifted my head from its place in the straw and groaned as the world started to spin all over again. At first I thought I'd imagined the sound, but closing my eyes , I heard the rustle of straw beyond the bars of my cage and held my breath in anticipation.
“Cass!” Rasmus shouted, just as I had when I'd woken up. I was wondering how many darts had hit him for him to be out as long as he had been.
“Ras, I’m here. You okay?” I called out hoarsely, rolling to my hands and knees and crawling over the stone to the bars again. I needed to be closer to him, and even
if lying against the metal was simply an illusion of that, I was all for it.
“Yeah? Head hurts but okay. You?”
“I'm good. Feel like I'm on a roller coaster, though.”
“Does that mean the room’s spinning?”
I let my body rest on the cool stone as a smile played on my lips. “Yes, that's exactly what that means. I'm so glad to hear your voice.”
His sigh of relief was loud enough to hear from my place by the bars of the cell. He might not have been physically in the same room as I was but at least he was here and alive. It was more than I'd hoped for when I'd received silence after calling his name.
“Did they move you or me?” he asked, the sound of straw shuffling telling me he was moving.
“You, I think. This place is startlingly familiar. The decor in your place any better?”
He snorted. “No, it looks identical.”
I rolled over. A small rigid rock stuck in my back as I did, but I didn't have the strength to move again. I watched as the room spun around. It felt as though there was an earthquake raging in my body. I closed my eyes, but the sensation didn't dissipate. The strange aftershocks just made me feel like I was trembling violently. Maybe I was.
“Cass? You still with me?”
“Yeah, just trying to get rid of this dizziness.”
“Just try to relax. It'll pass.”
Easy enough in theory.
I took deep breaths in through my nose and released them through my mouth, hoping to calm my body enough to find some semblance of balance. When I finally opened my eyes again, I squeaked. Grigori was stood by my head, his stiff uniform so close I could reach out and touch it. I spun to my feet and fell forward onto my knees, cursing as I smashed them on the uneven rock. I could hear Rasmus yelling from his cell, the clang of his bars telling me he was rattling them in an attempt to escape, but I was too focused on getting as far from the veneficus as I could.
“Warrior, calm yourself,” Grigori snapped coldly.
“As soon as you man up and face me, I will, coward.”
I could hear the outward breath of Grigori’s sigh hit his mask as he wandered further down the hall. I scrambled into a corner and made myself as small as possible, burying my head in my knees as I tried to calm myself down. If I had to move quickly, at least the two sides of the stone wall would help me to my feet. I could hear the murmur of quiet conversation from where I sat, but the words themselves were muffled. Even Rasmus' anger seemed muted.
When Grigori appeared in front of my cell again, I took a deep breath. I had no idea whether Rasmus was still conscious or not. The silence was almost deafening. I wanted to call out to him. I needed that reassurance he was still with me, but I wasn't willing to give Grigori the satisfaction of knowing how fearful I was of being alone with him. He’d startled me, but as that passed I gathered what little strength I had and was resolved to give him nothing more of myself. As he watched me with fascination, I glared back at him defiantly. The water had given me some of my strength back, and I took the time I had to formulate a plan to defend myself should the need arise.
It never did.
After standing there for what felt like an eternity, Grigori eventually motioned to someone in the direction of what I believed to be the exit. The guards appeared quickly, swarming down the narrow corridor that ran just outside the bars, and headed toward Rasmus' cell, while the rest congregated outside of mine. One of them pushed open my door while the others entered carrying what looked like a mattress and a small table with a chair.
“What the hell is this?” I snapped.
“Just because you're a prisoner doesn't mean you need to be treated like an animal,” Grigori said with humor. “I have arranged the same for your guard. I'm hoping it will ease your mood.”
“You want to ease my mood? Bring my guard back.”
His laugh sounded a little psychotic from behind his mask but I tried not to react to it. The last thing I needed was to show him my weaknesses. He may have intimidated the crap out of me, but he really didn't need to know that.
“You amuse me, Princess.”
“Stop calling me that! I have a name.”
He tipped his head slightly as he regarded me for a moment then stepped into my cell. He waved off the other guards, and didn't so much as cringe as they locked him in with me. I, however, pulled myself into a smaller ball, wishing that I had Rasmus in here as backup. I knew how to handle myself, but the guy was huge and had a lot of magic on his side.
It only took a moment to realize how pathetic I was being. I was a fighter. Not having a weapon didn’t make me weak or a victim. I had two fists and I had been trained to use them. If he was going to kill me, I would try to take him with me.
Grigori approached me slowly, and all I could do was pull myself up against the wall and lean against it in the best defensive stance I could muster, my chin high as I struggled to find my feet. He offered me his gloved hand, extending it slowly so the fabric of his uniform pulled back to reveal the pale skin of his wrist.
“What did you do to Rasmus?”
“The warrior is sleeping. No harm will come to him while you're here,” he said, extending his fingers a little more. “Just as none will come to you. Please, all I wish to do is talk.”
“Talk?” I asked, my voice filled with venom. “What you want to be girlfriends and shoot the shit a little bit? You're holding me prisoner.”
“I am doing my job.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” I growled. “You stand there and try to justify this, saying we're the threat to you, yet we're not the ones who plan on destroying the planet and all the dimensions that exist within it. You want distinction? We're trying to save people, not destroy them. We’re fighting against the eradication of the species.”
“I fear you've been misinformed.”
“I fear you're an idiot!” I snapped, moving from leg to leg as each threatened to turn into a wobbling mess.
Rather than be insulted, Grigori threw his head back with laughter. He was infuriating me and I had no idea where to go from there. The dizziness that plagued me was once again picking up. I needed to sit down, but I wasn't comfortable being in a room alone with him.
“What's with the masks?” I asked, trying to change the subject. “Are they welded to your faces?”
“You know I can't answer that, Cassandra.”
“You said you wanted to talk. I'm talking. The thing is, it's kinda hard to concentrate when I'm staring at a ghost.”
I was playing a dangerous game and I knew it, but I was cornered and feeling vulnerable. I didn't want to be alone with him, but I obviously had no choice. If dealing with him as a person meant I wouldn't have to stare at the creepy mask he was wearing then I would risk it.
“Would it make you more comfortable if I removed my mask?”
“Maybe.” I shrugged, smoothing down the front of my dress in an attempt to mask my imbalance.
“Are you certain?”
I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead from being stood for too long with the chemicals still in my system. If I didn't do something soon I was going to hurl all over him. The room was tilting in weird angles all around me and my limbs felt too heavy for my joints.
“You do not look well. Perhaps you should take a seat?”
“Not with you in the room. You either remove the mask and reveal yourself to me or leave. I'm through with this masked attacker thing you have going on. You want to face me, face me as yourself, not as another sheep in the sea of them out there.”
Grigori nodded, his hands moving to pull back the hood of his uniform jacket. With a short jerky movement, the mask came free and he lowered it from his face.
I barely held in my gasp. Seeing him with an actual face gave him a personality I hadn’t expected. The brown eyes belonged to an extremely stoic and handsome face with chiseled features that were framed by black hair. His square jaw was littered with dark stubble that speared into a goatee, f
raming his rose colored lips which were curled into a genial smile. I was surprised by his appearance, how human his face made him now he had features and skin that moved with his muscles, but I tried not to reflect that in the way I looked at him. He was still the enemy.
“Better?” he asked, his voice deep, accented and rich now that it was free from the confines of the mask.
“Much, thank you,” I admitted, finally pushing off the wall in an attempt to make my way to the chair. A big mistake considering I had no strength in my legs.
Grigori's actions were almost immediate once he saw me going down. His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against him. I tried not to be repulsed by his touch, but it was impossible. He'd done too much damage for me to be comfortable with him now.
Ignoring my revulsion, he helped me toward the mattress, but my fight or flight instinct had kicked in. I wasn't comfortable going anywhere near the thing while he was in the room. I was exhausted and I wasn't sure I would stay lucid, even with him in the cell.
“No. Chair,” I spat, struggling against him to free myself.
He obliged my request without so much as an argument and deposited me into the small chair with ease, his hands on my shoulders until I found my equilibrium. But, despite his size, he handled me with care, stepping away as soon as I was stable enough to sit straight.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, arranging my skirts. I may have had pants on, but that didn't mean I was comfortable with him seeing anything other than the heavy material of the dress I was wearing.
“Doing what?” he asked, lowering himself onto the mattress, his long legs folding under him. “I'm afraid you have to be more specific.”
“Why are you being nice? We're your prisoners, yet you just waltz in here and show kindness beyond what’s necessary. Like you expect the favors as a trade-off for trust. Why are you fucking with my head?”