AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I see the world end,” I told him. “All of it, in fire and heat and ash.” My eyes came up to meet his, the promise of truth undeniable. “Morgan will bring this future, Fisher. Morgan will be our undoing. Yours,” I whispered, “and mine.”
His hands wrapped around the rim of the bowl, ready to bolt from the room.
“Wait,” I begged. “It doesn’t have to be this way. There are things I can do, things Morgan doesn’t want you to know I’m capable of.”
He hesitated, facing me without apprehension for the first time, but with something else, something like curiosity.
“You know,” I said. “You’ve seen it. You hear the rules. No one with me alone. No one else sees me except you and the other. No one but Morgan.” I tilted my head, gesturing toward my legs. “And he left the strongest part of me free, Fisher. My legs are unbound, but my hands, my tiny, useless hands, are strapped to the wall behind me.” I leaned my head toward him, voice low. “You see it, Fisher. You know. I’m just a girl, a hundred pounds of nothing, and he’s got me strapped here. So no one can get to my hands.”
He leaned back, but it wasn’t fear on his face. It was indecision. He was deciding whether to run.
“That’s all I need, Fisher. Get my hands free and I can show you why Morgan hides me, why it’s so important I’m kept from everyone.”
“Fisher!” a voice called from outside the door, its echo muffled through heavy walls, and he stood, knocking the basin in his haste to move clear of me.
Water sloshed free of the bowl, running toward me in a dirty rivulet as he leapt forward to sop the mess with the damp cloth. His fingers were inches from mine, but he didn’t touch me.
“My hand,” I whispered, “my hand.”
He looked up at me then, our eyes level, close enough I could see the color in them, a lush green under dark lashes, beautiful and unnatural. “I can’t,” he said, and I knew it for the utter truth it was. Morgan had instructed him, given him orders under sway. There would be no help from this man.
“Gods save you,” I whispered to his back, “because no one else can.”
I was wondering how long it would take—which of the people I cared for Morgan would be dragging in to bind to the wall across from me, and how he would torture them to get me to obey—when the door came open again. It was different this time, slow and deliberate, and I looked up, waiting for whatever new horror the occurrence held. It was the dark-haired man, GQ.
He strolled forward, chin dropped as his eyes focused on me as if I were a naughty child, an animal that needed to be disciplined. As if he planned to enjoy it. Wiping his hands on a towel, he crouched near my legs, daring me to use them. I had to admit the urge was overwhelming, but there was something that stopped me, some instinct to stay still.
“Brianna,” he admonished, tone low as he shook his head, “you should have known we’d be watching you.”
I froze, not allowing my eyes to find the corner of the room, knowing it was too dark there. I’d already looked, there was nothing to be seen, nothing my eyes could detect. He smiled, somehow knowing the thoughts that rushed through my mind, and tilted his head toward the material hanging on the far wall.
“Doesn’t take much these days,” he said casually. He tossed the cloth he’d been using aside, dark material damp with something even darker, and tapped a finger to the side of his nose. “Just keep that in mind, in the future. Fisher was a good man, he’d have made a fine soldier.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but my heart dropped; the smile and the rag and the words all screaming that it was too late, they’d reprimanded him. And when Morgan’s men were reprimanded, they were no longer Morgan’s men. They were no longer anything. I’d gotten him killed.
One side of GQ’s face rose when he saw recognition in my expression. “I see we understand each other now.”
“Bring her some water,” he called over his shoulder, and the second man disappeared through the open door. GQ leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper, and said, “Maybe Morgan isn’t the only one you should be worried about, Miss Drake.”
My heart raced, his warning, his proximity generating a push in me that wanted to tear free and fight. It was too strong, too intense.
“What are you?” I hissed.
He smiled, moving to stand as the second man returned. “Give her the whole bottle. She’s going to need her strength.”
He stepped out the door, the mass of muffled footsteps—a dozen or so men following him—fading as he disappeared from sight. I didn’t drink until I was sure he was gone.
Fisher’s replacement didn’t give me a chance to try and persuade him, simply grabbing the towel and empty water bottle to disappear from the room the moment I was finished. I breathed deep to the sound of the heavy metal door slamming shut and leaned the inch or so my restraints gave me to the side. My hip was better, the drug at least giving me the ability to sleep in a situation I wouldn’t have been able to otherwise, and the swelling on my mouth had gone down. But my shoulder still needed to heal some, so I closed my eyes, not wanting to think about Morgan and his plans for me or the others.
It was a long while before the vague feel of a half-sleep dream came, the far off sounds of banging, shouting, thunder. And then I jerked, torn back to consciousness by the sound of rapid gunfire in the building outside my room. It grew louder, coming from every direction, a ceaseless torrent of clatter. It didn’t make sense. My mind was convinced that it was already too late for all of us, that Aern and the Council were gone, and I had to force myself to believe, to hope it was true.
That they were alive.
Boots slapping concrete echoed past my door, Morgan’s men running, fighting. They would have a plan, wouldn’t they? Some out to remove me from the property? My eyes found the material hanging from the wall opposite me, where the guard had indicated a camera. “I’m here,” I whispered to anyone but them. “Here.”
Something slammed against the metal door, sending a jolt through me. I pulled at the ties on my wrists, fresh blood welling to run over the dry, caked mess they’d left of my skin. The clang of bullet striking steel reverberated through the room, and a shadow fell over the thin crack of light beneath the door. A body slumped against it. One of Morgan’s? One of ours?
An unnatural shriek tore through the building, some metal structure falling against pipe or wall. I cringed, drawing my shoulders up short, unable to even cover my ears. Dust fell from the brick above me, sprinkling onto the floor and reminding me of the last attack. Explosions couldn’t follow, not while I was locked here, strapped to a block wall. Light flickered, the man blocking my door having vanished, and narrow strips of black as boots moved in front of it. I held my breath, praying it wasn’t Morgan, wasn’t one of his men. Suddenly, the door was flung open, light spreading across the floor quicker than a heartbeat to reveal my savior.
