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Presently, she occupied a small cage in Ahdán’s travel tent. He perched in front of her, sharpening a blade. His (failed) attempt at intimidation.
“Why are you looking at me as if I betrayed you?” he asked. “Especially considering the violence you’ve employed to kill me.”
Neeka listened to Ahdán with her eyes, reading his lips. At the age of five, enemies raided her camp, and a soldier stabbed her in both ears. Too young to repair the damage, she was rendered deaf for eternity. “Give me another dose of your toxin, and you’ll die before the sun sets.”
Earlier, he’d injected her with a horrible poison meant to change her species to his. It was the fourth dose he’d administered since they’d exchanged marriage vows several years ago, and each new inoculation had triggered a worse reaction than the last. Sweat still poured over her too-hot skin, soaking her bra and panties, her only garments, yet her teeth chattered from cold. Her bones ached, her muscles throbbed, and her nerve endings sizzled.
No matter an immortal’s origins, they required ten doses of the toxin to facilitate a total transformation to Phoenix. If they survived the injections themselves. Most victims died at the halfway point. Even those like Neeka, with Phoenix in their ancestry.
“Where is your thanks?” he asked. “I’m helping you reach your full potential.”
Ha! “You care nothing about my potential.” Ahdán didn’t even like her. He sought to create a mate too terrified to defy him. A good little sex robot, willing to be used and abused at his convenience. “You care about my ability to survive your flames, nothing more.” An upside of the transformation, yes. That, and the ability to revive from death as he did. But. As soon as she could withstand his fire without burning to ash, he planned to bed her. With or without her approval.
Wait. Should she seek to withstand his flames? Had she foreseen her own death and now worked to protect herself?
Was that why she’d permitted her own capture? And she’d absolutely permitted it. She’d been tucked safe and secure inside a secret realm only a rare few could access. Which meant something enticed her to leave and place herself in her ex’s crosshairs.
Neeka searched her (amazingly brilliant!) mind for answers but couldn’t resurrect the tale of her imprisonment. Beyond this particular interlude, her thoughts were blankish, as if she’d dropped into the middle of a story without reading the back blurb. A common occurrence for her, and one of the many disadvantages of being the world’s most magnificent seer.
At different points throughout any given day, her mind tired of jumping from present to future to past then back to present or future, and she short-circuited, her memory erased. Most times temporarily. Sometimes permanently.
She hadn’t always been this way, able to see forward and backward, round and round. It started after Ahdán dispensed the first dose of toxin, inadvertently torching a barrier to the ability. The best she could do now was piece together any fragments of information available.
As Ahdán droned on, she sighed. No clues there. He merely spouted complaints about her less than stellar qualities. As if she had any!
Ignore the twinge of doubt.
She tuned him out by looking away and examined her surroundings. A traditional battlefield marquee with an open floor plan, vintage cloth walls, and an all-natural, dirt-packed floor. Very last century. Former tortures had left their mark, staining the material with splatters of crimson. The air carried notes of rust and iron. It was nice and all, but again, but very last season.
Hmm. Did the words written in marker on her forearm mean anything?He-licks-her.Other than the obvious.
Think!The last thing she remembered was snuggling in bed, alone, always alone, reading a how-to guide for making better jewelry. A new passion. If males refused to notice her greatness and bestow gifts, she would perform the honor herself.
Well, whatever the reason for allowing her capture, the reward must’ve outweighed the risk.
When the tiny wings between her shoulder blades vibrated, she returned her gaze to the Phoenix. Ugh. He was mid-tantrum, banging his weapon against the cage bars.
“Pay attention to me.”
Neeka couldn’t hear his voice, but dang if she didn’t feel his whine with her entire being.
“Sure thing.” She winced, as if sorry for him. “But first, you gotta become more interesting. Go ahead. I’m waiting.”
He scowled, and she blew him a kiss. “Your harpy friend. Taliyah. She never should’ve taught you to speak. You’re much prettier silent.”
“You’re hideous at all times.” Though, granted, on the outside, Ahdán wowed with model-worthy features and a body bulging with brawn. Too bad he sucked.
She hadn’t forgotten why she’d married the sadistic brute. Save Taliyah’s sister from having to contend with his evil and empty his royal treasury. Assassinating him had been a wonderful bonus.
Ahdán pressed the tip of his blade into his index finger, drawing a bead of blood. “Your pain will be my pleasure, wife.”
She yawned. “Do you get delivery out here? This girl could use a bite.”
Most harpies adored anything fried or sweet. Not Neeka. She always jonesed for veggies. A constant source of humiliation throughout her childhood. Maybe because she’d been so sickly. Just one more aspect of her life that had made her different.
“Maybe a drink?” she added. “Your tears on the rocks, shaken not stirred.”
Blue flames crackled over his pale locks. Aw, did his inability to intimidate her sting a bit?
