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Stepping back into the bedroom, the cool night air hits me and I shiver, goosebumps puckering my skin as I pull on the clothes, hating how short the shorts are, and how cropped the t-shirt, though at least it’s better than nothing. All of the women Soren keeps prisoner are naked but for a leash about their necks, so these clothes are luxury in comparison.
A cool breeze flutters through the open window and Faith mutters something indistinguishable in her sleep. She’s turned on her side facing away from me, the harsh bumps of her spine stark beneath her skin, and for what seems like the thousandth time I curse Soren and his men, wishing my words alone were powerful enough to cast the kind of spell that only exists in fairytales.
With a heavy sigh, I sit back on the bed, and careful not to disturb her, gently pull up the blanket over her thin shoulders. Not only has she been beaten repeatedly, she’s also malnourished. Her breasts might’ve filled out slightly due to the changes in her body, and her stomach rounded a little by the growing foetus inside of her, but she’s worryingly underweight. I make a mental note to bargain for more food the next time Soren asks for an update. He can’t expect Faith to carry his baby full term if she isn’t given enough sustenance to do so.
Not that he’ll ever get to meet his child.
I’ll make sure of it.
Settling back onto the pillow, I turn my attention to outside the window and to the vast darkness of the desert. The sky is clear tonight, and the stars and moon hang like precious stones on a velvety dress only serving to remind me of why I’m here.
It's been almost two days since Soren asked for my assistance and just as long since I’ve made diamonds. I have no doubt that very soon he’ll send one of his men to escort me to the lab. But I’ve not been complacent with my time. Earlier today I mixed up an immune boosting tea of ground wild oats mixed with crumbled stinging nettle. The tea has a slightly bitter aftertaste thanks to the nettle, but is full of calcium, iron and magnesium which are essential minerals for a pregnant woman with depleted energy. It was the first thing I encouraged Faith to drink.
But that fortifying tea wasn't the only concoction I brewed whilst she slipped in and out of sleep. I also used the time to create a poison that replicates the symptoms of dysentery. Chronic diarrhoea and sickness might not kill off our captor but it will make them weak, and a weak target is far easier to kill. All I need is an opportunity to drop it into their food, but that’s a concern for another day. Right now, my priority is Faith and getting her as fit as I can, that and getting some sleep before one of Soren’s men turns up demanding a shift in the lab. Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply, letting the exhaustion take hold of me and allow myself to fall into another restless slumber.
* * *
“GET UP!” a deep, male voice orders, the sharp pain of someone pinching my breast startling me awake.
My eyes spring open, my vision blurred as I scramble upright, jolting at the sight of a man towering over me. He’s big, with broad shoulders and a thick neck, and under his hideous, unkempt beard I can see a sharp, rectangular face. His eyes are deep set, close together and with a slightly yellow tinge to their whites, but it’s the sneer on his thin lips that I dislike most of all, that and the three-quarter skull tattoo covering his face.
“You bastard!" I hiss, rubbing the spot he pinched, feeling equal parts incensed and violated.
“Call me a bastard again and I’ll take great pleasure in smacking those bad words right out of your cunting mouth!” he snaps, roughly snatching the blanket from me.
I grind my teeth together in anger, cursing him silently as I stare up at him.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he goads. “Now get your shit together. You’re needed.”
He gestures for me to move, his gaze fixed on Faith who has frozen beside me. Fear radiates from her and my heart aches at seeing her react like that. I want to rush to her defence and shout at him for making her feel that way, but I know it won't do any good. Her fear is a natural reaction, one I would never blame her for, but I can and will blame the men responsible for it.
"Hello, pet," he says, his tongue snaking out to wet his cracked lips. "Soren wanted me to report back on your condition. Shall I tell him that you're looking quite the pretty picture. It's amazing what a few hours of sleep without a cock rammed up your arse can do."
I push upright, stepping in front of the man, drawing his attention back to me. "You can tell Soren that it's only been forty-eight hours. That she needs a lot more rest and recuperation."
Three-quarter skull smirks, his lips curling. "You can tell him yourself."
I glare at him. "And what if I don't want to?"
"Then I'll tell him that you refused to come with me and got a beating as a consequence."
“She shouldn’t be left alone,” I argue.
“Then I’ll come back and sit with her. Make sure she’s okay,” he says with a smirk.
“No. Absolutely not!”
Without any warning Three-quarter Skull lifts his hand and slaps me across my cheek, sending me stumbling sideways, my head ringing from the power behind it.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, because it won’t be pretty."
I bring my hand up to my face, my fingers brushing over the harsh, hot sting of his strike. A large part of me wants to go feral and launch myself at him, but he could snap me in two without thinking twice. So I force the rage I feel deep into the pit of my stomach, biting my tongue, fighting the desire to strike back. Instead I put all of my anger and disgust into my stare, making sure he knows that he’s nothing more than shit beneath my shoe.
“You know what, fuck it!” he snaps, and in the instant before he curls his fingers into a fist I know I’ve made a huge mistake.
The impact of his fist against my jaw is like a sledgehammer, sending shockwaves through my skull. I feel the warm trickle of blood on my chin and taste the iron of it on my lips. My vision blurs and the world around me fades to a dull roar. As I stumble backwards, I hear his laughter, a cruel, hollow sound that seems to fill the room. In a daze, I bring my hand to my jaw, feeling the tenderness of the bruises already forming there.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since you arrived,” he says, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my towards him. This time he bites me on my ear, drawing blood.
