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She backhands me again, this time significantly harder. The impact rattles my teeth, and I can almost taste the cigarette ash on her knuckles. Amusement and a slow trickle of rage unfurl in my stomach.
“You’ll be singing a different tune when Meridei starts your treatments, Miss Ambrose.”
My eyes glide to Meridei. “Is that true?”
She half smirks. Nods twice.
I wet my lips, stretch my arms, and yawn. “What are we waiting for? Shall we begin?”
The two women exchange a look. It takes great discipline not to let the memories hanging around them like a smoky atmosphere invade my head. There will be time for that. Time to sift through their most intimate moments, understand them, collect private details, and eventually…exploit. I challenge myself to be patient. Dessin certainly was. He took his time with prey. He valued each moment he’d have to get ten steps ahead, and that’s exactly what I will do.
“I know one of your favorite treatments was being whipped,” Meridei says tauntingly. “I think we’ll start with that.”
Suseas nods her head with approval, lightly touching Meridei’s shoulder like a proud mother. I look at their navy-blue uniforms, pale skin, and tiny waists. My, oh my. Hard to believe that I used to live this way, only for a short while.
The orderlies retrieve me quickly, handling me like a dirty rag they have to dispose of. I’m shoved, jerked, called demeaning names, and thrown into the flogging room. The echoes of cries throughout the history of this area bang around my head. Women whining, begging for mercy. Men coughing on their moans. And… children. I shift away from that void and close off my senses so I can focus on what comes next.
Just like last time, I’m stripped of my gown, attached to the chains hanging from the ceiling, and reeled upward to dangle a couple of inches above the floor. And I can remember it so clearly, without letting the void pull me in. It’s the reminder of that wall. The one Dessin was shackled to. Made to watch my beating, listening to my whimpers. What did he say to them when he was at his wits’ end?
“Meridei!”I hear his voice crack through the room. It’s enough to make me flinch. My eyes dart around to search for him. And I know I should be used to it by now, but sadness pricks behind my eyes, and disappointment settles like spoiled food in my stomach.
If only he’d storm through that door right now. If only this nightmare were all in my head.
“Another move and I will rip that arm off with my teeth.”His voice rings through the room like a trumpet of death. It was Dessin’s threat to Meridei when she continued whipping me. The memory tickles the back of my mind.
I store his promise away in a safe place.
“I’ll admit. The last time I had you here, I was sure your lover was going to gut me—you know, find a way to break out of his shackles. I thought if he was capable of bringing me and many others to the brink of death with food poisoning, what would he do to me now? I went easy on you for that very reason.” She drums her fingers against her chin. “Isn’t that funny? He didn’t lay a finger on me. Must not have given a damn about you; otherwise, I would have gotten it when you two escaped the second time.”
Or, he had far more pressing issues to take care of.
I watch her without blinking. “Are you excited to do your worst?”
Meridei glances up at me, taking her time choosing the whip. For the first time, I notice how skinny her arms are. Bony, without an inch of fat or muscle. They would be easy to twist behind her back until I heard something crack.
“I’m positively levitating.”
“Good,” I say, letting my shoulders relax. “There’s no one here to hold you back.”
“No, there is not.” She makes a snapping sound with the leather of her whip, then winds back her arm and begins.
The first two strikes I have trouble ignoring. The urge to contract all of my muscles, wince, shriek, and gasp at the blinding, white-hot sting of pain is all-consuming.
But then I see him.
At first, it’s only a shadow near the door. Giant and ferocious. A poltergeist of darkness and brooding tension. But as the whip tears flesh, that shadow becomes a detailed beast. Black shiny fur with russet patches on his chest and paws.
And those big cinnamon eyes.
Hello, sweet boy.
DaiSzek huffs impatiently. A low, husky sound in the bed of his throat.
I stop feeling the agonizing pulse of her weapon that slices through my skin and up the length of my spine. My wrists simply slip out of their restraints. My feet hit the floor. And I walk away from her grunts of tormenting passion.
DaiSzek bows to me, offering his back for me to climb onto. A wave of relief washes over my scalp. Dessin was able to protect himself with alters that could withstand different forms of pain. My mind is able to walk away and go someplace else.
I swing my leg over his back and wrap my arms around his neck. He rises slowly, then shoots forward like a bird cutting through the clouds. He pays no respect to the wall as we dissolve right through it. And like last time, in the cage that Albatross kept me in, we blink from existence, reality draining from sight.
