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Teen Fury: Unleashed

Page 12

by Amanda Torrey


  “Yeah, yeah, all of your little teenage dreams.” She waves a hand dismissively in the air, then looks me up and down. She smiles. “You can have so much more here, my daughter. My pride and joy.”

  “I am not your daughter!” Fury builds again, and I push past the pain in my head and advance toward her. Menacing. Only she’s not intimidated by my attempt; she is proud.

  “Perfect.” She claps her hands like a pleased child on Christmas morning. She’s gloating. I want to push her until she jumps out the window. “You’re learning so quickly. I knew my hopes for you were not unfounded.”

  “I’m leaving. You can’t keep me here against my will.”

  “Oh, can’t I?”

  I turn to the door, but she’s suddenly blocking my way again. How did she move so fast? I didn’t even see her pass me.

  “Face it, darling. Your ‘mother’ is a weak human who couldn’t even keep a man as… odd… as that husband of hers.”

  “Don’t you dare talk about my mother that way!”

  “Your ‘father’ left you and his wife for a whore, and now that they’re having a child of their own, there’s no need for you.”

  Pain splinters my head, and I lean against the wall to try to keep my balance. I close my eyes, willing her to go away, to stop this torment.

  “Your friends can’t stand who you’ve become, and you have no future in that realm. A Fury can’t fit in anywhere but here.” She pauses to study me, and I open my eyes to see fake sympathy softening her facial features. She puts her hands on my slumped shoulders, brushing aside one of my now-limp snakes. “But here, you can reign under me and have all you dream of.”

  I breathe deep, channeling Ryder and his words to me. I can control this; I can be my true self. She can’t control me, only I can.

  I allow my snakes to grow taller again. My teeth grow to sharper points, but I’m in control.

  “If you wanted me so badly, why did you abandon me?” I narrow my bleeding eyes and watch her walk away from me.

  “Oh, darling. If I had only known what I was giving up, I would have kept you.”

  I move toward the door again, but she’s still faster than I am. My strength is depleting—I can feel it pour out of me. The snakes are begging me to allow them to seek vengeance, to feed on the fear of someone, anyone. I can’t allow it, so they feed from me instead.

  The room spins, and I grab the wall again in an effort to steady myself. I can’t lose consciousness here. I need to get out.

  “I’ll give you a chance to get settled in. Zane will be busy for a while taking care of his mother, so you’ll be fine in his room for a bit.”

  “No.” My words sound distant, garbled.

  The room is closing in on me, making me spin out of control.

  The last thing I hear is the far-away laughter of a woman who thrives on the pain of others.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  My arms are numb, tingly as if they’ve been asleep too long. I try to move them to regain circulation, but they are attached to something. I open my eyes to find cuffs around my wrists, attached to a chain, which is connected to Zane’s bed post.

  I try to scream, but my throat is parched and my mouth feels full of cotton. I lick my dry lips, needing moisture, but none is to be found.

  I yank on the chains to no avail. I have no energy, no strength.

  Since my human strength does nothing for me, I attempt to summon my Fury, but all I can muster is a tiny stirring in my head. Even when I try to think angry thoughts, all I wind up with are self-pitying ones, which do nothing to encourage anger.

  I watch out the window as day turns to night. Where is Zane? He has to help me. I saw guilt in his eyes earlier. And he’s helped me before.

  Then again, he’s far more loyal to his mother than he is to me, and he helped Meg get me here. How likely is he to go against her when she holds all the power in her hands?

  I maneuver my body so I’m sitting upright, relieving some of the tension from my arms. The blood starts to flow a little easier to my hands and fingers, making them feel less heavy and slightly more human.

  Thoughts of my mom and dad haunt me. I know my absence will cause another sleepless night for my mom, and she deserves so much better than this. I’ll miss more school; my friends will think I’m a bigger loser.

  I need to get out of here.

  I pull on the chains again, frantic, desperate. The movement only results in sore wrists and more dizziness.

  The one good thing about my current state of dehydration is that even with the deep sadness I feel, no tears will slip down my cheeks.

  I drift off to sleep, which is the only thing I can do in this situation. And I send a prayer that I’ll be able to figure a way out of this mess.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Commotion outside the door jolts me awake. I can’t feel anything below my aching shoulders at this point, and I’m not even able to swallow.

  “Step aside.”

  Ryder?

  Oh, sweetness. I never thought I’d feel so grateful to hear his voice. I struggle against the chains, making as much noise as possible.

  “I don’t think so, dude.” Zane’s voice causes me to freeze mid-yank. “Why don’t you just turn around and head back where you came from, before Megaera finds you here.”

  “You can move on your own, or I can help you.”

  “Ooh, aren’t you the tough guy? What makes you think Felicia wants to go with you? She’s in my room, pretty comfy. You know I couldn’t bring her here if she wasn’t willing.”

  It’s not like I asked to come here. Not exactly, anyway.

  Suddenly a side door I didn’t notice before bursts open. I’m surprised to see the blonde servant girl, the one I met the first time I came here. My eyes widen as she approaches with a key.

  She unlocks the cuffs from my wrists. It takes me a minute to be able to lower my arms—my shoulders are too stiff and sore. She massages my shoulders gently, and like the Tin Man being oiled, I’m able to bend freely.

  “Go quickly.” Her speech is clear, but rushed. Her eyes dart around the room, and her fear is palpable. “If you get to Ryder, you’ll be able to leave with him.”

  I don’t question a thing. I thank her with my eyes, and squeak out a hoarse, “Thanks.”

  I’m almost to the door when I turn to smile at her one more time. This girl is my savior, and I wish I could hug her and take her with me.

  “By the way, I didn’t get to tell you before, but my name is Sadie. I gave it to myself.”

  “Sadie.” It comes out as a squeak, but she beams. I can’t imagine going through life without a name.

  I gesture for her to come with me, hoping she can see that I would be willing to take her in. But fear returns to her eyes and she shakes her head vehemently.

  “Go, quick. Save yourself.” She grabs a bottle of water from a small refrigerator against the far wall and tosses it to me. I gulp down a few sips, the hydration refreshing my sandpaper tongue.

  The sides of my mouth crack as I lift my lips into one last smile. I rush through the repaired door in time to see Ryder pushing Zane against the wall, his forearm against Zane’s throat. Man, what a familiar sight.

  He pushes Zane down to the ground and rushes to grab my arm.

  “Where are your clothes?” He growls the words, and when I look down, I can see why. Somehow I wound up in Zane’s T-shirt, which hangs down to my thigh. I really wish I had taken a minute to notice what I was wearing and to find my clothes. Shoes would be nice, too.

  Ryder clenches his jaw, seemingly gritting his teeth, and his grip on my arm tightens a bit.

  I look at Zane, who is standing now and smiling widely.

  “Care to come back to my room to change?” Zane gives me a lustful look and sends his grin my way.

  I blush.

  Ryder moves his hand into mine, and I gasp a little when he pulls. He looks down and sees my chafed wrists, and his face turns a bright shade of red.


  “What are these marks from?”

  “Can we just go, please?”

  The look he shoots at Zane scares me a little. I’m totally PO’d at Zane, but I don’t want him hurt. Part of me still believes in his vulnerability, that he is nothing more than a puppet with Meg pulling the strings. Nor do I trust that Zane wouldn’t hurt Ryder. He’s made it obvious he’s not afraid to play dirty.

  I touch Ryder’s chest with my free hand, wanting to reassure him that I’m okay and that we should hurry and get out of here.

  He looks at me, his gaze hardened in a way I haven’t seen directed at me before. He shakes his head in such a small gesture that I almost question whether he moves at all, then he turns to Zane.

  “I trust we won’t be seeing you again.”

  Zane laughs.

  “She came here of her own free will, and may decide to do so again. There’s not a damn thing you can do about that, is there, Ry?”

  “Next time Lord Mercy will come himself. We’ll see how sure of yourself you are then.”

  Though Ryder’s tone is menacing, “Lord Mercy” doesn’t sound like much of a threat to me. But Zane’s face pales the slightest bit before he recovers his trademarked cocky expression.

  Ryder pulls me closer to him and leads me out, not slowing even as I trip in my bare feet while trying to keep pace with his long strides.

  Not a word is uttered the entire way to the foggy area in the woods.

  “This is probably a bad time to ask this, but do you think there’s any way to get my clothes? My cell is in my pants pocket.”

  Ryder glares at me.

  “You won’t need your cell where you’re going.”

  “We’re going home. To my home. Ryder!”

  He doesn’t answer, just pulls me into the fog.

  When we emerge, we’re not in White Rock. Far from it.

  I think he pulled me into a postcard. Ahead of me lies a castle-bigger and brighter than Meg’s. All around are lushly landscaped grounds, vibrant flower gardens, and peaceful Koi ponds with gently flowing waterfalls. Everything is illuminated by the full moon and a tasteful selection of landscape lights that twinkle when we walk by.

  I peer into the shadows of his face. Questions clog my brain, making me speechless.

  “Time for you to meet your father.”

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  The room Ryder brings me to is too fancy for me to feel comfortable. Luxurious fabrics, expensive-looking paintings, shining surfaces. He dumps me here without a word, then sends an oldish lady to bring me clothes. I take them gratefully, trying not to grimace at the style.

  The willow green blouse fits like it was tailor-made for me. The pants are comfortable and soft. So not something I’d ever find in a mall, but when I look in the mirror, I see a spark in myself that I haven’t seen before.

  Ryder arrives at my door, looking as if he walked out of GQ. He’s dressed more formally than normal; not in a suit, but with a collared shirt and khaki pants. Gorgeous isn’t the word for him. He nods his head slightly, then offers me his arm and looks away.

  I reject his arm, annoyed that he can’t even look at me. I wonder if he sees anything good in me at all, or if I’m an obligation only.

  Ryder picks up his pace, forcing me to stumble a little in the shoes they gave me. Every step of his screams irritation, but he doesn’t say a word out loud.

  I’m about to confront Ryder on his attitude toward me, but a door swings open and a rather large man steps out, arms outstretched toward me.

  This man is old. His long, white beard makes me think “father figure,” but his eyes are hardened, deadly.

  Until he smiles. Then every feature of his face softens, and he feels familiar and warm.

  He pulls me into his embrace, and though I don’t exactly hug him back, I don’t pull away, either. He smells of spices and fire, and a little touch of something sweet. I feel his chin resting on my head, and just when I start wondering how long this awkward hug will last, he puts his hands on my shoulders and holds me at arm’s length, observing me carefully.

  “Ah, yes. I see the Mercy within you. It’s all over your face.”

  Okay…?

  “You share some features of your biological mother, but you take more after me.” He laughs, a deep, belly laugh full of joy.

  I feel instantly connected with this man who sired me. But I have a million questions, none of which can be spoken yet.

  At least he doesn’t creep me out like Her Hissiness.

  I’m led to a giant dining room table, where I’m seated next to Ryder and Lord Mercy. The meal is served family style, and all of the people who helped to set the table sit down with us. Robust conversation ensues as platters are passed around the table, and it feels more like a family than a hierarchy.

  My belly feels hollow, but not for want of food. I ache for my usual meal with my mom, long for our crazy conversations and her off-beat sense of humor.

  My eyes fill with tears, so I toy with the food on my plate, unable to take a bite.

  “Child, what troubles you?”

  I look to my side. Lord Mercy places his fork on the edge of his plate and leans toward me so he can hear my choked voice.

  “Nothing, I just, I don’t—” I sniffle and take a deep breath in an effort to compose myself. “I am worried about my mom worrying about me.”

  “I understand that worry. She has raised you to be a fine young lady.”

  “Thank you.” True story, but I’m not feeling so fine lately.

  “Felicia, I hope you’ll consider making this your home, at least for a little while. I can offer protection from your biological mother, who will stop at nothing to get you to use your unfortunate talents for her cause.”

  My home? Here? Away from everything I know, everyone I love?

  How can he even suggest such a thing?

  And my “unfortunate” talents? Isn’t that discrediting part of who I am?

  “You don’t have to answer now, give it some thought.” He picks up his fork and resumes eating. “It doesn’t have to be a bad thing. We can bring your earthly mother here, give her a comfortable place to stay. She’d be able to move freely among the realms, after some basic training. You can take advantage of your time here to build your strength and to learn how to control your Fury. You are half Mercy, after all.”

  His smile helps settle my nerves. He’s not trying to hold me prisoner; he’s trying to help me. And he’s not trying to keep me from my family. My head settles a little.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  I manage to take a few bites of food, which is enough to abate some of my nausea. When Ryder walks me back to my room, he directs me to a small alcove with an old-fashioned phone.

  “You can call your mother here.”

  My mom picks up on the first ring, and I can tell she’s been waiting by the phone. I should have been home hours ago, and there’s no doubt she’s worried.

  “Hi Mom. I’m so sorry it took so long to call you.”

  “Where are you? I’ve been calling your phone for hours and I must have sent you fifty texts. Why aren’t you answering? Are you okay?”

  This is as good a time as any to rehearse my acting skills.

  “Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. My battery died and I don’t have the charger. I’m at Sarah’s house. We have a huge project to work on and I got carried away, totally forgot to call sooner.” I cross my fingers, hating myself for lying to Mom. But this isn’t exactly something I can explain over the phone. I start to wonder what will show up on caller ID. My heart beats faster.

  “Do you need me to pick you up?”

  “Actually, is it okay if I stay here tonight? We figure we can work into the night, then I can go to school with her in the morning.” I bite my lower lip, hoping she’ll say yes. I have no Plan B.

  She doesn’t respond right away, which amps up my anxiety about ten thousand notches.

  “Did her parents say it’s okay?”

 
; “Yeah, they’re fine with it. They’re cool like you.” I smile so she can hear it in my voice.

  “Ha, ha. I know how ‘cool’ you think I am.” Worry has faded from her voice. “All right, I’m trusting that you’re telling me the truth, since you haven’t lied to me before. I’m sure you’re not duping me… there are no cute boys with you, right?”

  I look at Ryder and can feel myself blush deeper than I ever have. So deep, the heat spreads to my chest and probably down to my toes.

  I swallow before answering.

  “Ha, you’re funny.” Please let that be enough of a response to convince her.

  She laughs. I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

  “Go ahead and have a good time. Get lots of work done. And please come straight home after school tomorrow.”

  “Mmhmm.” I have no idea what will happen tomorrow, but I guess I’ll have to figure that out sooner than later.

  “And next time you make sure you call me if you’re going somewhere. I don’t like worrying about you.”

  “Sorry, Mom. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Tears well up again.

  “Are you okay, Felicia? I can come get you if you want. I know you haven’t been feeling great lately.”

  “No, no, I’m good. Just tired from a long day.”

  “Well don’t feel like you have to stay up all night working on the project. Nothing is as important as your mental health.”

  We say our good-byes and I love you’s and I return the phone to the receiver.

  Ryder walks me back to the room I’m staying in, practically jumping out of his skin when I accidentally bump into his arm.

  I’ve had enough of his cold and withdrawn attitude. My insides are tangled and my emotions are on edge, and if I don’t say something to him, I will snap.

  He opens the door for me, where I’m greeted with a roaring fire in the fireplace and the covers of the four-poster bed turned down, begging me to climb in.

  Before he can pull the door to a close, I put my foot in the way.

  He looks at me with those piercing eyes of his, one lock of hair falling over his brow.

  “What’s your problem?”

  He doesn’t answer, just looks into the hall, away from me.

  “Ryder, tell me what is wrong with you. Did I do something to you? Are you upset that you had to come get me? Just tell me.”

  He looks back at me. The silence continues way too long, but I hold my ground.

 

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