AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His answer was automatic, he hadn’t meant to tell her his name. A name he’d not revealed to Raum. He was simply, N. Which was much better than what Raum had called him to begin with. Worm was just downright offensive, not that Raum had ever given any indication he’d known about Nithe’s dragon. Yet, he’d told this woman his name without a second thought. Heck, without any thought at all. So, why? What was it about her that made him break his own rules?
She was trustworthy. He felt it resonate from his dragon, who still could not speak, but who pushed the feeling all the way through him until he knew the truth of it. His dragon was ancient, older than most others, or so he’d said. He’d told Nithe to seek refuge with one of the other clans, but he’d been too angry. Angry at his mother, his prejudicial clan, even at his dragon, and all because he was different.
He’d always known he wasn’t the same as other dragons, that his father wasn’t a dragon, but he’d never felt unloved. Now he knew that love had been conditional, that they’d been hoping his non-dragon traits would be dormant, then they could fully accept him into the clan of his birth. The problem? He was a perfect blend of dragon and his father’s angel heritage. His shifted form was just like any other dragon . . . Well, except that his golden wings looked like large leather feathers instead, and he had a burning pain in his chest whenever he encountered injustice. Or even thought about it.
Shaking his head he focussed on the stunning woman beside him, separated by the thin, unbreakable glass. They’d be watching soon, she’d said. Jezzie, her name was Jezzie, or so she’d said. A simple, yet unusual name, her illusion implied she was going to be full of surprises.
When she lay back on her cot and closed her eyes he raised himself from the floor and looked around the sparse cell.
“There’s a shower and toilet through the door to your left. I suggest you make use of it quickly,” her words were whispered softly, and he momentarily wished she was saying his name instead of talking about bathrooms. Turning his head and lifting his arm, he took a good solid sniff of himself . . . and almost passed out from the stench of his own pungent, rotten odor.
Pushing himself to his feet, and leaving bloody footprints on the concrete floor, he entered the small bathroom. It was stark white, sterile, functional if not lavish, but better than he’d had access to in a long time. As much as he wanted to step into the shower and stay there under the warmth of the water, until all of his aches disappeared, and he was finally clean again, he knew, deep down inside, he’d always feel dirty, eternally covered in the filth of his time with Raum. The scars on his soul only a miracle could heal. Despite his desire to linger, he knew if he wasn’t in the main part of the cell, visibly trying to engage the other prisoner when Raum returned, whatever the asshole had planned would become much worse. So, he relieved himself quickly, kicked off the filthy tattered rags that were supposed to be pants, and stepped into the small shower cubicle only long enough to wash the grime from his body and dull the unwashed odor. He didn’t dare use soap or wash his hair. He even avoided getting it wet. Raum had not given him permission for these things, and he knew better than to assume too much. Even though the water stung his cut and bleeding feet, he had to force himself out of the shower; it had felt like a slice of luxury in a nightmare.
Fuck! How had his life become this mess? Where was his strength? He knew the answers though. Hated them, hated all of them. The dragons who’d feared his differences, his own pride and stubbornness. He should have listened to his dragon, he should have ignored the call to deliver justice, and the visit from that bloody angel, Esidriel, who obviously had no clue what she’d actually sent Nithe into. But if he ever got his claws on her . . . the grin on his face, reflected in the small mirror, was filled with slightly deranged anticipation and humor.
When he exited the bathroom he breathed a sigh of relief, Raum wasn’t back yet. Then again, from what the mysterious Jezzie had said, Raum was probably watching everything anyway. Adding every infraction and misstep to the tally of his future session with the sadist.
Speaking of the stunning woman in question, she was exactly as he’d left her. On her cot her ankles crossed, her arms up and pillowed under her head, face serene. Well, except for the occasional smirk or inaudible snarl. Happy thoughts, then.
Someone here had a way to contact his handler, a way to get him out. But who? He doubted it was the guy Raum had not introduced him to, Balthazar. It looked like they were two fucked up peas in a pod. Why else was Jezzie here, in a cell, no less? She didn’t look dangerous, but he supposed looks were often deceiving, he only had to look at his mother to see proof of that. If not the man in charge, then who? Who was brave enough to defy him? Only demons had crossed their path on the way down here, and even they stayed in the shadows. Probably sensing pure evil as it emanated from Raum’s fetid soul.
Not only did he need to figure out who it was, and also how to let them know, discreetly, who he was working for, he also had to get closer to Jezzie. Raum would not react well if he didn’t, and he would not limit his anger to just Nithe, he’d find a way to hurt the woman too. But it wasn’t just Raum’s orders making him seek her out, or want to get to know her, find out everything about her. No, it was more than that. It was an imperative need he felt burning in his soul. Almost like his dragon heart was aflame, a wordless plea to get as near to her as he possibly could, in every conceivable way. Especially now he’d washed his own stink away and could clearly inhale the undiluted scent of her through the small holes in the clear cell walls.
Reaching out he found he could just fit his index finger through one of the holes, and out again, fairly easily. Knowing he had to convince Raum he was trying to gain her trust and find out all of her secrets, he let his forehead touch the wall.
“Hey, how long have you been here?” His tongue felt slightly thicker in his mouth than normal.
Only the sound of her measured breathing reached his ears at first . . . And then she started to chuckle, softly one moment and a hearty belly laugh the next.
“Long enough that I know better than to trust just any pretty face, sweetie. Aye, there be snakes in this ‘ere garden, don’t ya know? Plus,” she paused, sat up, and looked directly at him with a tilt of her head as she dropped the playful pirate accent on the last word. “I know I’ve been out of the dating loop for a while, what with being stuck here and all, but, you can do better.” Her wink and the smile that graced her ‘real’ face almost knocked his socks off. Or it would have if he’d been wearing any.
Balthazar really bloody hated this. Hated having his space invaded, having Jezzie put at risk, and he hated having to tolerate Raum most. His skin burned with the need to smite him. Evil pulsed from him in waves that made his skin feel tight and itchy. His palms tingled with the need to release his sword. Plus, he’d come to care for Jezzie, she was as close as he had to a friend, despite their previous intimacy, screwing her over, and some light torture. He felt protective of her. It was a pretty sad testament to his existence, really. His only friend being the woman he had trapped in his cellar. Sure, he’d continued to make passes at her, and he’d have definitely gone for another round if she’d been willing, but he’d had more fun messing with her than he’d had in a very long time prior to her arrival. If Raum went too far he knew without a shadow of a doubt he’d be outing himself, and if he didn’t act fast enough, wasn’t strong enough, it was all over.
If only the fucking twat would stop touching his things he may have been able to calm the rage within himself. He’d not met Raum before, beyond the reputation he had. A reputation that was justified considering his powers were almost beyond his control. Never before had his powers reacted quite so uncontrollably to an OtherRealm sinner. He was usually quite calm, quite controlled when he carried out his task as executioner to what are mostly considered immortal and paranormal beings. See, it was his job after all, or it had been. He took care of the Evil in the OtherRealm, while the shadows took care of the mortals, and never the twain shall meet. Such a funny saying. Of course they had met. Amazingly, wonderfully so, until it wasn’t anymore.
“Step away from my desk, Raum, and do not make me ask twice.” His voice snapped out of him like a whip lashing the air between the two men. He hadn’t even realized he’d spoken until the last syllable had already left his tongue.
Raum froze, turned slightly, and cocked his brow at Balthazar. His gray tweed three-piece suit was completely at odds with the state of the male he’d brought with him. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of 1920s Yorkshire. The only thing missing was a flat cap. Balthazar was pretty sure he had one to match a similar suit in his own wardrobe. He couldn’t fault the guy’s sense of fashion, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t burning that suit at the very first opportunity.
“Why so touchy, friend? Are we hiding things? Things we don’t want our mutual friend to know, maybe?”
Raum looked positively gleeful at the prospect. On the other hand, Balthazar barely restrained himself from saying he saw no friend of his present in the room.
Thankfully everything of a sensitive and personal nature had been securely locked away before he’d left for Daemoneskra. He made it a rule to always be prepared, and it never hurt to have a backup plan.
“No, I just don’t like others touching my things. Germs, you know, they’re everywhere.” He smiled, probably a little too forcefully. “We all have our little quirks, don’t we? I mean, it’s partly why we find ourselves doing what we’re doing, isn’t it?”
“Oh, certainly. I can understand an aversion to such things. Not my thing personally, but we all do have them. For me, it’s the smell of seawater. Not the out on the ocean kind, more the dirty seaweed kind. Makes me gag every time. It’s basically just a giant toilet for sea creatures, blergh.”
Balthazar couldn’t tell if Raum’s shudder was feigned or sincere, and it bothered him. Either he’d just learned something potentially useful, or Raum was toying with him.
Raum moved away from Balthazar’s desk slowly, until he was standing beside one of the leather armchairs. Again, he looked at Balthazar, this time with a slightly impatient expectation. Suddenly, Balthazar remembered his manners, even if Raum didn’t deserve them, and indicated to the chair.
“Forgive me my lack of manners. Please, be seated.” He had long ago been instructed in the manners of London’s high society, and found himself falling back into the comfortable ritual of it all as he took the seat behind his desk.
“Not to worry, old chap, I understand. This is your operation, you run a tight ship, and you resent any interference on my part. Rest assured, our friend is merely curious as to why you have kept this morsel a secret for so long, and what it is exactly you think she’s hiding.” Predatory eyes bored into him, clearly waiting for an answer.
“She and I have history . . . of a personal nature. None of which has anything to do with ‘our friend’s’ plans or affairs. It doesn’t even affect my day-to-day business. So I would honestly appreciate it if you would inform our friend and leave me to it.”
