Immortals of Indriell- The Collection

by Melissa A. Craven

  “Why is she so angry? I … I gave her what she wanted.”

  “No you didn’t. She wanted you to refuse to hurt Lennox. And she was going to demand your total submission and loyalty in exchange. I don’t think she realized it was going to go that far. That you would call her bluff like that. She’s mad at herself. Not you. Look at me, Quinn,” Santi said softly.

  He had trouble lifting his gaze to meet hers. He was so ashamed. He hadn’t called Livia’s bluff. He’d done what he wanted. Even now his gift hungered for more.

  “Look at me.” She lifted his chin with her fingertips. “That was not your fault.”

  He shook his head, the movement making him dizzy.

  “Come on, big guy, I got you.” Her slender arm wrapped around his waist, guiding him across the cool marble tile. “You’ve had enough for one day. It’s time you rest.”

  Every inch of Livia’s home was cold and hard, but not Santi. How had she managed to survive this place all these years?

  “Not years,” he mumbled.

  “You’ll struggle with that for a long time, but it will get better as more time passes. Let’s get you cleaned up. You’re a mess and you stink.” She wrinkled her nose at him and he winced. When was the last time he had a shower? Weeks? Had it been a month?

  “Hey,” she said. “Remember what I told you before? It’s not been as long as it feels.”

  “Right. What year is it again?”

  “You haven’t lost that much time, Quinn.” She guided him into the enormous bathroom and helped him down to a plush covered bench at the center of the room, opposite the biggest tub he’d ever seen.

  “You remember the night we met? When you first arrived at Soma?” She turned the tub faucets on and poured something medicinal into the water.

  He nodded. It seemed like a lifetime since that night. He stared blankly at his surroundings, taking in the white-tiled bathroom—the sound of the water rushing into the tub. The warmth of the steam rising. Everything was so white it reminded him of that awful white room. He’d spent so much time there before.

  “What is it with all the white in this place?”

  “Look at me, Quinnton.” She gripped his chin, forcing him to look into her green-amber eyes. “That was less than three months ago. Today. What happened with Lennox, that was just a few hours. You have to get past the time screw. They aren’t going to wait for you to catch up.”

  “Three months. We talked today.” Quinn nodded. He didn’t trust anything about this place or his memories of it. But he trusted Santi. She was his lifeline right now.

  “Michael’s gift is psychological. He can trap you in the most frightening, awful places and make you think you’ve been there for weeks when it’s only been hours. That’s the way they get most of their captives to sign over their lives to Soma. When you come out of it and realize time has not passed the way it seems—that it’s only just begun—it does something to most. Livia was so angry when you made it through without even cracking. That’s why she did this to Lennox. She was punishing you for making her have to work for it.”

  “I did that to Lennox,” Quinn said softly.

  “No, you didn’t. You cannot think like that or she will win. Look at me,” she commanded. “Would you ever make a conscious choice to do that to a child?”

  “No.”

  “Then it wasn’t your fault. She forced your hand. Now stand up if you can manage it.”

  Quinn grabbed the edge of the bench, willing his legs to work.

  “I’ve got you.” Santi’s voice was so calm and sure. And her hands against his tortured body were nothing but gentle. Kindness. He’d almost forgotten what that felt like. With his arm around her shoulders, he managed to get to his feet where he swayed, dizzy and disoriented.

  “Don’t lose your balance. If we go down, I’ll never get you back up,” she groaned under his dead weight.

  “Sorry.”

  “Hold onto the wall if you need to.” She reached for the hem of his tattered shirt and lifted it up over his shoulders. She couldn’t quite get it over his head, even on her tiptoes.

  “I got it.” Quinn flung the remnants of his smelly shirt to the floor, but he flinched when Santi reached for the waistband of his jeans.

  “Don’t tell me you’re shy?” The hint of her teasing tone made him smile. He hadn’t smiled in ages.

  “I don’t know you.” He shrugged. “And I’m not at my best at this particular moment.”

  “You don’t have to impress me,” she said. “If I thought you could get out of those awful clothes and into the bath by yourself without drowning, I’d leave you to it. But the second I turn away you’re going down, you know that, right?”

  “Probably, but I can handle my pants by myself, sweetheart. Turn around.”

  “Seriously?” Santi laughed as she turned away.

  Quinn struggled with the zipper, but he finally shed his jeans and turned toward the welcoming bath.

  “Hold on to me. I won’t look.” She offered him her shoulder to keep him steady as he climbed into the scalding hot water.

  “You trying to boil me?” He winced at the sting of the water.

  “Yes. You and I have to share the floor by Liv’s bed and you reek.”

  “That’s right. I remember that first night on her floor. She likes to keep us close and under the thumb of her power.” Quinn eased himself into the steaming hot tub. The water turned milky-white with bubbles as the jets kicked on.

  “Smells fruity.”

  “I put bubble bath and every kind of essential oil I could find in there. Lavender and eucalyptus to help you relax and ease your muscle aches. Lemongrass to cleanse your wounds, and the sweet orange oil is just to make you smell like a person again.”

  “Thank you.” Quinn sat back against the edge of the tub, his back like a live wire in the hot water.

  “I didn’t see anything important, by the way. In case you were wondering.” She winked as she knelt by the tub. The delicate chain of her tether was just long enough to reach him. He didn’t like the glaring reminder of her captivity, but she seemed used to it.

  She plunged a sponge into the water. “Lean forward.”

  He did, and she squeezed the sponge, letting the water cascade over his shoulders. Blood and dirt rolled off him, staining the water brown. He cringed. By the time this bath was over, his ego would be as bruised as his body.

  “Cálmate. I’ve been right here. Many times. There is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  With his hands clenching the side of the tub, dried blood and dirt ran down into the water.

  “Put your hands in the water. It’s going to hurt like hell, but you have to get them clean. Best just to get it over with.”

  He slipped his mangled hands beneath the water, hissing at the sting. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to keep the tears back.

  “May I touch you with my gift?” she asked as she continued washing his back and shoulders. “What little bit I can manage. It will give you comfort.”

  Quinn nodded. He recognized the flicker of her aura and her hands grew warm against his back.

  “Just breathe. Relax, and give yourself a break, Quinn.” Her gentle hands wandered across his shoulders and neck, filling him with a sense of calm. A moment of blissful peace and serenity washed over him, soothing his tortured mind. And then it was gone. But it was enough.

  “Thank you.” He rested back against the tub. “That was amazing.”

  “Not even a fraction of what I can really do.”

  “What did you do, just now?”

  “I touched your soul.” Her hands swirled in the water, lifting his hand to clean the wounds there. “It can be very invasive. I can tell a lot about a person once I’ve touched them with my gift. The touch is pleasurable, but I can use it to give pain too. I don’t like doing that. I much prefer giving others a little moment of peace when they need it most.”

  “So you know more about me now?” Quinn frowned. He didn’t lik
e the thought of her seeing more about him than he wanted her to know.

  “A little. But I would never go looking for information without your permission. Not that I can see much in my current state,” she said bitterly.

  “Tell me what you saw of me.”

  “You are a broody young man.” She smiled. “Very hard on yourself. And you care so deeply for those you love. And … you are an addict,” she added softly.

  “So you know I did exactly what I wanted to do when I hurt Lennox?” He pulled his hand away.

  “No. I didn’t see that. I saw a man with a difficult gift doing the best he can to control it. I saw bravery in the face of hell.”

  “And I saw nothing but weakness,” Quinn said.

  “I was there, you know?” she whispered as she dabbed the sponge over his chest. “These last months, I’ve been forced to watch you fight for your life like a useless voyeur. It’s been part of my daily ‘training,’ and the only time I get to leave this house. I feel like I’ve been through it all with you.”

  His jaw clenched at the knowledge that she’d probably seen him cry for his mother.

  “They are weak bastards who prey on the strong. We can’t let them get to us or they’ll make us into what they are. I refuse to let that happen. This is your new normal, Quinn. I’ll give you tonight to get your shit together, but that’s all the time you’re going to get.” She eased him back against the tub and moved to wash his blistered feet, her silky waves falling over her shoulder.

  She looked like an angel. So serene and humble.

  Quinn’s eyes filled with unshed tears of anger and frustration. I’m a total mess, falling apart right in front of her eyes. But Santi had been on her own the whole time. She didn’t have anyone to give her a pep talk. She just survived. Day to day.

  “No. No more crying for your momma,” Santi teased.

  “You haven’t met my mother.” He smiled. “If I cried for her, it was because I knew she would burn this place to the ground and no one would escape.”

  “Sounds like my mom.” Santi stood and held her hand out for him, turning her head away to give him privacy.

  Quinn stood, letting the water roll off him, grabbing her hand for support. He stepped from the tub and took the towel she offered. “What about … Lennox?” He draped the towel around his waist and eased himself down onto the bench.

  “Lennox will be fine.” Santi sifted through the linen closet, returning with first-aid supplies and a suture kit.

  “She’s just a kid.”

  “Can’t dwell on it or it will kill you. Len is special. She’s lived here most of her life.”

  “She’s telepathic?”

  “She talked to you?” Santi whirled around in surprise. “She must really like you.”

  “She assured me that she was okay and it wasn’t my fault. It was like a knife in the gut every time she spoke to me. She couldn’t seem to hear me, though.”

  “Lennox can only get a sense of what you’re thinking, but she only talks to the people she trusts.”

  “She’s so young. She can’t be sixteen.”

  “She’s thirteen.”

  “Early Awakening?”

  Santi nodded sadly as she stepped behind him, placing the suture kit on the bench. “Just recently. I was there. I helped her through it as best as I could, but it was awful.” She dabbed a numbing ointment over the deep cuts on his back. “They don’t know yet.”

  “Livia? Hasn’t she realized?” Quinn didn’t think anything could get past Livia’s notice.

  “No. Len was always going to be a powerful girl, but after her Awakening, when she should have been obviously stronger, the sensation of her power was about the same as before. I don’t know if she’ll ever be as powerful as she was supposed to be. We’re trying to shield her as long as we can. If they find out, she’ll go to market immediately and then she’ll never get the training she needs.”

  “Who is ‘we?’” Quinn asked.

  “Me and a few others who care,” Santi said as she threaded a curved needle.

  “She can recover. I’ve seen it.” Quinn thought of Aidan’s brother, Seamas and how little his early Awakening affected him now. It took him a few generations to get there, but it was possible to recover from the limitations an early Awakening could cause. Len needed the kind of training someone like Seamas could give her.

  Quinn watched her reflection in the mirror as she moved around the bathroom. “You’ve grown more aware since the last time we met.” She was more confident than he remembered. No longer the naive girl who’d volunteered to come to Soma, not knowing what awaited her inside.

  “You opened my eyes to what was happening under my nose.” She shrugged. “It’s been a long three months since they took you away.”

  The pinch of the needle through skin didn’t hurt, but the tug of the thread turned his stomach.

  “I hate stitches,” he murmured.

  “What, you squeamish?” She laughed.

  “Sewing me up like a pillow, it’s just gross.” He shuddered.

  “Better get used to it, tough guy, You’ve got some deep cuts. They’re not healing because of Livia’s influence and you’re still pretty young, too. Some of these are going to take a while.”

  “I’m twenty-thr—no. Wait. I guess I’m not. What month is it?”

  “July.”

  “I guess I’m still just nineteen, then. Jeez, that seems so young.” He winced at the sharp tug of her thread.

  “Sorry. Almost done with the worst one. After all the time I’ve spent with Michael, I feel like I’m at least thirty, but I’m not much older than you.”

  They fell into a comfortable silence as she finished stitching him up. Santi’s gentle hands drifted over the dark bruise along his shoulder, rubbing a pungent ointment over the tender area.

  “Frankincense, lavender and tea tree oil will help with soreness,” she said. “The bruise will fade in a few days, but it should feel better by morning. Now let’s see your hands.” She sat beside him on the bench as she examined the damage to his wrists. “I don’t think I can stitch this.” She prodded the loose skin with a pair of surgical tweezers, pulling it back where it belonged. “I’m going to bandage this tightly and we’ll see how it looks in a day or two.”

  Quinn yawned. He was so tired, he could feel it in his bones. He winced when Santi pulled his skin flat against his wrists and sprayed the area with antiseptic before she bound them with surgical tape and gauze.

  His grumbling stomach broke the silence. His last decent meal was a distant memory.

  “You’re going to need your strength for what’s next, Quinn.” She met his gaze. “They won’t stop until you’re completely broken and you just don’t care anymore. Don’t let them win.”

  “They couldn’t break me with pain, so what’s next?”

  “A nice break.” She grimaced. “But don’t let it fool you. They’ll treat you like a human being just long enough to make you think it’s all over, and then they’ll turn on you.”

  “Build me up just to watch me fall again?” Quinn sighed. It would be better if they didn’t bother.

  “Come on, let’s finish up here so we can get you fed before she’s done in the gym. She doesn’t like us underfoot. When she’s home, it’s best to just stay out of her way unless she needs something. If she gets annoyed, she’ll lock you in the white room.”

  Santi covered his burned feet in ointment and wrapped them in gauze. “Can you get dressed on your own now?” She handed him a set of folded sweats from the linen closet.

  “I can manage.” Quinn moaned as he stood.

  “Just come out to the kitchen when you’re ready.” She left him to finish on his own.

  Quinn felt a thousand years old as he struggled to put on a shirt and then hobbled down the hall, clutching the wall for support.

  When he reached the kitchen, he collapsed on the nearest barstool. He needed food and sleep—and lots of it—to get his strength back. Then he
could focus on getting his head on straight.

  Santi moved around the kitchen like it was her own, the scrape of the silver chain around her ankle a reminder of her place in this household.

  “What’s with the chain? You try to escape?”

  “No. I could break it without even trying. It’s just meant to humiliate me and remind me that despite my stellar education and my lofty ambitions, I am nothing.”

  She served him a plate of lean chicken and steamed vegetables. No salt or butter, but it was the most delicious thing he could ever remember eating. It wasn’t until he popped the last piece of broccoli into his mouth that he realized she hadn’t eaten anything.

  “You gave me your dinner didn’t you?” His cheeks warmed in embarrassment. Idiot. She was obviously starving as well as sleep-deprived.

  “You needed it more than I do.”

  “The kitchen must be stocked full. Why can’t you help yourself?”

  “She’ll know. It’s not worth it. Missing a meal won’t kill me. I’ll just sneak an extra protein drink before bed. She doesn’t count those.”

  “Santi … why are you doing this? Helping me? A place like this … you have to look out for yourself first.” He grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “I need someone I can trust. I’ve been here for so long.” Her voice shook. “Some days I feel like I’m going to lose this battle,” she whispered. “When you were here last. Before they took you away. I drew so much strength from having you here. I want to repay that kindness.”

  “You need a friend, you’ve got one.” He gave her a smile. “We’re allies in this.”

  “Friends.” She turned to the sink to wash the dishes.

  Quinn limped to Santi’s side, taking the dish from her. “You wash, I dry.” He smiled down at her.

  “She won’t sleep tonight so she’ll be in her study till dawn. We need to take advantage of the time and get some sleep while we can. She’ll wake you in the middle of the night to reestablish her hold on your power. She’ll do that frequently.”

  “How long does she have to be away before your power comes back?” Quinn returned the last plate to the cabinet and tossed the towel on the counter.