Arson’s Captive

by Mason , V. F.

  Sliding the glass to the other end of the counter, I crack my neck from side to side, knowing full well I won’t get any peace now, and hop from the stool, walking toward my office while people shout in my ear when their favorite song comes on.

  For fuck’s sake.

  Kicking the door open with my foot, I enter and go straight to my chair, dropping onto it while Santiago shuts the door, taking the seat opposite me.

  “What do you want?”

  “Nothing,” he replies, connecting his fingers and wiggling them a bit while he winks at me. “Just came to see an old friend. After all, we share all these memories.”

  Watching Santiago right now so casually mention our so-called memories that consisted of nothing but suffering makes me wonder how Callum and I survived with such a psycho.

  Callum, by the way, has no idea I’m Artem from the past; for him, I’m just that psycho from the present.

  At least I used to be a few years back; not sure if he knows the truth now.

  “We are not friends, Santiago.” Something akin to annoyance flashes in his gaze, but he masks it with indifference; the hollowness of it probably sends chills through his victims, but all it does is amuse me. “And I haven’t seen you for fourteen years. So why don't you tell me what brings you to the town Lachlan banished you all from.”

  His laughter rocks off the walls, alerting me to his change of mood, and dangerous energy surrounds us, where both of our hackles rise in the anticipation of a fight. “Banished is a strong word. He has no power to dictate me.” He kicks his feet up on my table, his shiny shoes glistening under the light while he twists his diamond watch on his wrist. “I’m a Cortez. I don’t need anyone’s permission.”

  Right.

  Almost a royalty, the only male heir of Lucian Cortez whose past among us all is legendary.

  Along with the story of how he trapped his wife in a marriage she never wanted.

  Maybe Santiago took his sadistic tendencies after him.

  “Yet you know New York’s territory belongs to Lachlan.”

  He shrugs. “Let’s make something clear. The only reason I’m considerate of those rules is because I’m fucking tired of his constant fights with Remi.” Yeah, that’s one of the things I don’t get involved in either. “Anyhow, Lachlan and the Four Dark Horsemen have nothing to do with my visit.”

  I motion with my hand for him to continue, slightly curious for what he has to say next so he can get the fuck out of here.

  The voices in my head from the past echo from time to time on their own. I don’t need a living and breathing reminder of the hell I’ve been through, and that’s what they will always represent for me.

  Friendship is impossible.

  “I have a plan in motion for… let’s call it a thing for the time being. I’ll need your help in the future.” He chuckles. “You’ve earned quite the reputation among us.” My brows furrow at his odd tone and completely closed off expression.

  The last time I saw this expression on his face was when…

  He snaps his fingers, pointing at me. “Yep. Exactly that. So are you in or not?”

  “Have you lost your mind?” He opens his mouth to respond, but I shake my head. “Forget it. I won’t participate in it. Besides, rules are rules.” And even though we are in the same world, there is always an unspoken law among us all.

  We don’t mix with the Four Dark Horsemen and their shit, because they don’t operate like us.

  They love destruction, not thinking about consequences or rules.

  Santiago places his hand on his chest, sighing and wiping away an imaginary tear. “My heart is hurt by this rejection.” I get up, fed up with this shit, and I’m ready to drag him to the door if I have to, but he removes his feet from the table and then taps his finger on the red folder placed neatly right in the middle.

  “I have something for you. You know, an eye for an eye, only in this case a favor for a favor.”

  “Whatever that is, I’m not interested.”

  His eyes flash, and he taps again, a smug smile on his face. “Oh, you want this information. After all… you’ve been searching for it for forever.”

  I freeze at his words, fury slowly sinking into me while the full meaning of this registers.

  Holding his gaze, because I swear to the devil I’ll fucking kill him if it’s one of his pranks.

  Flipping open this folder changes everything.

  Santiago gets his deal.

  And I finally get him.

  That’s sometimes the thing about the people with whom you’ve experienced the greatest of nightmares.

  You might hate being in their presence… but they understand your deepest desires and know all your secrets, and in such, offer a solution for them.

  It’s payback time, and I can almost taste the victory on my tongue.

  Callista

  My eyes snap open as the smell of burned flesh penetrates my nostrils, awakening me from the haze I’ve been imprisoned in. With a gasp, I gulp for air only to cough loudly the minute it enters my lungs.

  My eyes twitch from the unusual sting and water, tears slowly falling down my cheeks while I try to make sense of my situation.

  What’s going on?

  It feels like a thousand drops of acid hit me all at once, placing me in a suffocating box with no way out. The ringing in my ears sends shivers down my spine, alerting me to the danger lurking all around me.

  Scrunching my eyes, I finally get a better look at my surroundings, and a horrified scream echoes in the space, adding to the dreadful picture around me.

  Fire.

  Orange flames mix with blue in a powerful duet spreading farther and farther around the place, turning everything in their way to ash while I stand still, too stunned to do anything.

  Finally shaking away the shock, I tug on my hands, searching for a way to escape, even though I don’t see one from where I’m pressed with my back to something hard.

  Frowning, I try again, but this time something sharp digs into my back.

  It’s then I realize my wrists are tightly tied with a thick rope, and I’m plastered to a wooden stake, right in the middle of what looks a lot like a basement.

  Rusty walls with cracked concrete surround me; it appears to be an empty space, which reeks of despair and agony.

  “Arson!” I scream, calling for the only man who can help me in this situation. “Arson!” Where is he? What happened to me that I’m here?

  The last thing I remember is falling asleep in his arms after he made love to me. Why then am I stuck here now like a witch ready to get burned by the inquisitors?

  “There is no need to scream, Callista. I hear you quite clearly.” My heart stops when his voice ricochets off the walls, sinister and dark in its nature that usually soothes any fears I have.

  But right now, it scares me even more, sending panic through me, but I shake my head, not wanting to believe it.

  When I get too scared, I can’t think clearly.

  “Arson, help me!” I can ask what’s going on later. I’m sure he’ll save me now. “I’m going to burn alive!”

  There is a tapping sound of steel against steel, as if he’s rubbing knives together, before he replies, “That’s the idea, darling. I’m sure it will be entertaining to watch.”

  I’m frozen, horrified by his words and the anticipation in them.

  “Wha-what?” I stammer, hoping he implies something else. Otherwise, it makes no sense.

  He wants to… kill me?

  And it will be entertaining for him to watch?

  The fire has no problem sliding from all the corners though, and the overpowering scent of gasoline is easily detected in the air.

  It circles around me, creating a bubble of dread and helplessness, reminding me that as much as I can be strong, I’m nothing against the powerful nature that has no mercy for those who stand in its way.

  He must have sprinkled the gunpowder in a specific pattern; otherwise, why is the fire not
touching me? He probably finds it amusing—considering his love for everything ancient—recreating a scene similar to those displayed in the endless paintings at his home of witches being burned for the whole town to see.

  To rid them of the evil spirit within them, of course, because God forbid real monsters admit their insanity.

  “Why are you doing this, Arson?” I ask with pleading in my voice, controlling the tears threatening to escape, and act like a lover scorned even though I’m the fool who doesn’t want to see the picture in front of me.

  Monsters never change their spots, just like leopards, but I was stupid enough to believe that he could. Deep down, I thought he loved me, but all this time… he prepared me for the bigger blow? To fully showcase his dark desires and cravings that include me burning?

  Has it been his plan all along? To make the captive so willing and mesmerized by him that she’d easily fall into his trap?

  Maybe Arson can get satisfaction only when the victim worships the ground he walks on so he can step all over her.

  Or I'm no longer useful to him?

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Another tapping sound followed by the flicking of a lighter and a strange popping sound. “You should have never betrayed me with Caspian, Callista. It’s an unforgivable sin. I’m sure they taught you what that is in the cult you both were in?”

  Betrayed? Caspian? “I don’t understand. That’s ridiculous. I never did anything.”

  “And here we are coming back to the regular pleas of the victims. I thought you’d be more original.”

  “No, no,” I mutter, pulling at my restraints, but it’s useless, because they are so skillfully locked around me; someone must be a master at this stuff.

  But then again, he is.

  A man who plays with fire like it’s his most expensive toy and cherishes it like it’s his beloved woman who forever holds his heart.

  I thought I was that woman, but life proved me wrong, didn’t it?

  Just like my mother, I believed a man’s love only to discover he wanted to hurt me all along.

  “You bastard!” I shout into the air, coughing loudly again and trying to press my nose to my shoulder, hoping at least somehow to escape the smell, not that it does me any good.

  But if I pass out from lack of oxygen, I’ll die in this basement like all those poor women in the past and be just another name in his never-ending list of victims.

  Blocking away all my emotions about the man who ripped my heart into a thousand pieces with this one action, I focus only on the present and the instinct to survive. Otherwise, I might turn insane.

  Sweat slowly drips down my back and my forehead, my skin tightening from the warmth around me and hitting me with dizziness all at once. My dry throat desperately begs for water, and every word I utter seems to claw at my throat, hurting so badly I can barely speak through it. “Let me go!” Even though I shout, it comes out like a weak raspy hiss, although I’m not sure what I’m hoping for in this situation.

  The man is a monster who feeds on the misery of his victims.

  He’ll never let me go as long as I live.

  I just never suspected he’d wish for my death so soon and never want a future with me.

  An amused chuckle sounds and manages to chill the heat of the fire around me while I catch my breath, fear spreading through me rapidly. “Callista, is that a good way to address me?” he asks, and I hear his footsteps close, but I still can’t see him clearly, because my vision is blurry from the fire.

  “I don’t care!” I hysterically inform him before wrapping my hand around my thumb, ready to use all means necessarily to escape this hell.

  Even if it means bringing myself pain.

  One of the ex-soldiers in the cult showed me a trick in which you can break your thumb and escape cuffs, making it bend in any shape or form you want, allowing you the freedom of movement.

  He clacks his tongue and then steps closer, finally allowing me to see him through the orange haze. His gray eyes flash with familiar excitement, making me remember all the times he killed people in front of me. “Your stubbornness has its own charm, I must say.”

  “You are sick,” I reply, meeting his stare head-on and raising my chin, because he’ll never get my obedience or surrender.

  Never.

  I might have given my heart to a monster, but fuck him if he thinks I will accept this fate freely like a sacrificial lamb ready to die for the Greek gods.

  He chuckles and shifts even closer, trapping my chin with his fingers and digging them into me so painfully I barely hold back a whimper. Any more pressure and he might break something. “But every charm has its limits. You just reached yours.”

  “What?” I ask, panic slowly sinking into my bones when I find something unfamiliar in his features.

  Boredom.

  No, no, no.

  The words from Levi when I was back in the cage echo in my ears.

  The minute he gets bored… you are as good as dead. So entertain him well as long as you can. Otherwise, you will sign your own death warrant.

  “The game has come to an end,” he announces, flicking the lighter in his hands. Before I can beg for mercy—forgetting about my dignity—he drops it at my feet, and instantly the wood is enveloped in orange flames. “The decoy must die in order for the hunter to catch his prey.”

  “No, you can’t do this.” Surely he is not that mad? Doesn’t my presence awaken an ounce of remorse from him, speak of something human beneath him?

  But then monsters don’t have that human side after all. Shouldn’t I have learned it after spending all this time in his company?

  His stare stays ice-cold when he lightly taps on my chin before stepping back, a smile curving his mouth that’s scary in its own right. “Can’t I? Keeping you alive was never part of the plan.” And with those parting words that shatter what’s left of my heart, he jumps through the fire leaving me alone to burn to death.

  I try to scream after him, so he will turn around to see me plead for my life.

  But he doesn’t, and my cries become weaker and weaker until I understand he’s completely lost interest in me.

  Why bother fighting for my life when even the devil himself has given up on me?

  My dark tale has come to an end.

  Arson

  Blocking out her screams of pain and fear that the monster inside me craves to soothe, I walk up the stairs from the basement in my house and go to the living room, feeling a different energy around me as the smell of gasoline floats in the air.

  Ares growls at the couch, standing still while barking at me and turning his gaze back on the couch. Without twitching a muscle, I open the main door and order, “Out.” He doesn’t budge, just gives me a confused look, but I order again, “Out. Fire.” The minute the command I’ve taught him since he was three months old is issued, he flies through the door and takes off in the direction of the garden.

  Good boy.

  Shutting the door loudly, I go to the bar, pouring myself a whiskey while a voice from the couch speaks up. “You are truly a vicious creature.” He points at the TV that showcases my torture of Callista and how she is pleading for help now. “Punished her without an ounce of remorse.” The awe in his tone makes me want to hit him with the bottle in my hand, but I restrain myself.

  All in good time.

  “Those who betray me don’t get my remorse.” Picking up the remote, I turn the TV off and Caspian sighs in disappointment, getting up from the couch to face me while holding two lighters.

  His expensive leather shoes leave wet footprints in their wake, since he practically soaked this place in gasoline along with the occasional spot of gun powder.

  Just one flick of fire and my house will blow up, becoming just a memory.

  “As it should be.” Caspian rubs his chin, before resting his elbow on the bar counter while watching me take a large sip. “She was a great decoy, wasn’t she?” He drums his fingers on the wood. “Whenever Adam, the guy who
guarded her, sent me reports with her picture, I just couldn’t take my eyes off her. What man could?”

  “She is your original blonde,” I say with all the boredom I can muster, even if I want to fucking cut his tongue out and then make him choke on it for speaking about my woman at all.

  Not yet.

  Glancing at the clock shows me I still have ten minutes to uncover Caspian’s ideas and thoughts, so I tune back in to the conversation where he continues to yammer. “She is an angel destined to suffer at the hands of cruel demons. I knew monsters like you, and I would never be able to resist her.” He shrugs. “I was never in love with her, but God, her beauty sure made me want to fuck blondes twice as much.”

  “So you delivered her to me on a silver platter?”

  He frowns, shaking his head. “I didn’t expect you to show up and blow that place.” Resentment laces his tone as if he planned to do it himself, and I stripped him of his toy. “But when I found out she was with you, it certainly opened up a lot of possibilities. I knew you had me investigated.” He smirks. “We don’t like to leave loose ends, and you were one of them. Taking care of the twins was easy, but just killing you wasn’t a spectacular enough plan.”

  So the fucker did kill them.

  I force a chuckle to slip past my lips at that; the asshole really believes it’s that easy to kill me.

  But then again, Caspian committed a massive crime once, and it turned him insane. He thinks he is the king of the world, and I’m still the same trusting boy I once was who cared about his friend.

  Funny thing about life though?

  It has the tendency to flip balances.

  If you were born a poor bastard, it doesn’t mean you can’t be the fucking king someday.

  Caspian, a delusional narcissist, is incapable of fathoming such knowledge.

  “You thought I’d be a fool in love?”

  “We are all fools for someone. You should have died in that fire, Artem.” He calls me the name I fucking hate so much, as it brings up memories of nothing but endless suffering in my life. “Instead, you escaped, and Mark had to send you away.”

  “Because you showed them the place,” I grit through my teeth, glancing back at the clock again, but once again finding it’s not yet time.