THE LEVER LIFTED AND THE door swung open. Tarek strolled into the basement, a cocky sway in his step. I had no idea how much time had passed, a day, two days; fuck, I’d been in and out of consciousness so often it could’ve been weeks for all I knew.
“Where is she?” I gripped the chains. Blood dripped down my arms from the manacles cutting into my wrists.
“Exhausted.” Tarek smirked. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Rest, but you certainly wake with one hell of a sex drive.”
I ignored the cramps in my arms as I strained against the manacles. The thought of Delara being forced…. Christ, no. How would she survive that?
Because she was Delara and she’d done it before. She’d survive because she had to and I’d taught her how. She knew how to stay alive. She should’ve never survived days beaten and broken lying in the ditch, but she had. And she’d survive this.
I’d tried to reach Delara telepathically, but she had either blocked me from her mind or she was unconscious, because I couldn’t reach her.
My body had gone through violent shivers and muscle spasms for hours until finally it stopped and shut down to the pain.
Numb to the torture. Even my Ink hadn’t risen again.
Tarek circled me, admiring the wounds as if inspecting a piece of meat. With a finger he traced a jagged open wound from my shoulder down to my waist.
“She begged me, you know.”
I remained motionless, but inside I roared with anger and it was the first flicker of something from my Ink.
Tarek touched the cut and with his fingernails picked at it. I clamped my jaw at the agony, but refused to cry out.
Instead I thought about gutting him. Peeling his skin from his body and making him suffer for fuckin’ centuries.
“She begged me to stop, until I told her every time she disobeyed me, you’d be tortured. You know what she did?”
A nail ripped into a scab and a tortured groan escaped my throat. But it wasn’t from the pain he caused; it was the anguish of what was happening to Delara.
“She fell on her knees in front of me, and I assume you know what she can do with that mouth of hers. Or perhaps you don’t?” Tarek dug his nail beneath torn skin, and warm blood trickled from the reopened wound. “Can’t have you healing, now can we? Tracing out of here would ruin all my plans.”
Tarek’s head bobbed, as if he were listening to a song he liked.
“I broke her once and I will again.” Tarek flicked his wrist and the chains lowered until my feet touched the floor and there was slack in the chains. “Once that happens, I will no longer need you anymore.”
Pins and needles erupted in my arms as the blood rushed back, and I ground my teeth together as circulation returned along with the pain.
Tarek reached into his pocket, pulled out a plastic water bottle, and threw it on the floor in front of me.
“Don’t need you dying yet. Oh, and it’s better you don’t try to speak with her.” Tarek drew a gun from the back of his jeans and pulled the trigger. The dart plunged into my neck.
The last sound I heard was Tarek humming a tune as he waltzed out the door.
Sitting on the floor with my back against the wall and knees pulled to my chest, I dozed in and out of sleep. But every sound woke me and images of Waleron haunted my dreams.
“Waleron,” I whispered as my head rolled to the side, eyes closing. I tried desperately to stay awake, but exhaustion took hold and I slipped into the nightmares.
“Delara?”
The familiar voice entered my dream, but it was different, as if he were there. Like he was real. “Xamien?”
“I’m Dreamstepping with you. I’ve been trying for days to reach you.”
But I’d avoided sleeping.
“I’m linked to you. Kind of like mindweaving, but this is in your dream.”
My heart pounded. They could save Waleron. Get him out of here. “Waleron. You have to help him. Tarek. He’ll kill him soon. I can’t—”
“Delara. Deep breaths. You must remain calm. If you wake, I will lose you.” His voice became a whisper, soft and soothing. “I want you to tell me where you are. Can you do that without waking? Stay deep in your dream.”
There was no ground, no trees, no sky—just ominous clouds, and when I sniffed the air, all I could scent was him, Waleron. Where was he? Was he with me? “I don’t know, but I smell Waleron. Is he okay?”
Xamien sighed. “Delara, you’re sleeping. This is a dream. I want you to think about where you are when you’re awake. What is around you? Is Tarek with you?”
Tarek. The clouds began to bleed red and the gentle mist turned violent.
“Delara! Fuck. Let your mind relax. Tarek can’t hurt you here. You’re safe. I’ll never let anyone touch you in your dream. Tarek will never be let in. He can’t reach you in this world. You know this from mindweaving. I control it.”
Slowly the red dissipated.
“Good girl. Now, think about where you are when you’re awake.”
“In a room. It’s warm, humid, salty. I can hear the waves constantly hitting the rocks. And the thunder tonight. Oh God, it’s like the whip that….” I muffled a sob.
“Where, Delara?”
“We can’t escape. Waleron tried…. He beat him, Xamien. Tarek beat him.”
“Who brought Waleron there? Did he Trace?”
“No. A gift. He paid for him to be brought here. He was brought here. I don’t know who. But he’s chained and in so much pain.”
“Can you tell us anything else? Is Zurina there too? How many men does Tarek have?”
“I don’t know. I never saw anyone. But Tarek… he separated us.” I heard footsteps. Were they Xamien’s? Were the footsteps in my dream or real? I couldn’t separate the two anymore. “Xamien, I can’t see you, but I hear you coming. Where are you?”
“Stay with me, Delara. Did Zurina Trace you to Tarek?”
“She drugged me. He keeps us drugged. An island. It’s an island.” The footsteps stopped and the scent of Tarek drifted into me. “He’s here. You promised he wouldn’t come here. I can’t move. I can’t fight him.”
“Delara. Wake up!” Xamien ordered.
I jolted awake, my head hitting the wall at the same time Tarek entered the room. Dread plowed into me when I saw his smile and the knife in his hand.
My knife.
I scrambled to my feet, pressing my spine against the wall.
“A present for you. I thought it would give you some sort of… what shall we call it? An offering? Yes, offering.” He grinned, but it didn’t meet his eyes. The rising sun glimmered off the steel blade as he held it up and ran his finger over the edge. Then he frowned. “What is it, Delara? You look upset.”
I gritted my teeth and glared. “I’m going to kill you really slowly, Tarek.”
Tarek threw back his head and laughed. “Ahh, nice to see some spirit, my love. I always knew that was in you.” He held out his hand. “Come here, Delara. And be quick about it. I don’t want to have to go to the basement.” He tweaked his finger at me. “You don’t want that, do you?”
Waleron. He was going to constantly use him against me, and unless I had a chance to kill Tarek, I had no choice because I wasn’t letting him win.
Lifting my chin, I walked toward him.
For now, I’d do whatever he wanted. But there would be a moment; he’d falter and I’d be ready.
Patient. Calm. Vigilant.
I stopped a foot away.
He walked around me. The hardwood creaked with each step.
He stopped behind me and his warm breath tickled the back of my neck. “You missed me, didn’t you?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
His arm hooked my waist and he dragged me to him, teeth nipping the lobe of my ear. “And you’ll be obedient this time, won’t you?”
The urge to slam my head back into his was overwhelming. Instead, I dug my nails into my thighs and replied, “Yes.”
Staring out the barred window, I listened to the waves hit the rocks on the shore. I matched my breathing to the soothing rhythm.
“Hold your arm out.” He curled his fingers tight around my wrist and held my arm steady. “Did you think I didn’t know why you cut, Delara?” He breathed heavily into my ear and cold shivers slunk down my spine. He slid the flat edge of the blade down my arm, then up again.
His teeth clamped hard on my ear and I couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath at the pain. “Mmmm, I forgot how amazing you taste.”
I closed my eyes and counted the waves. One. Two. Three. Four….
“I missed you, my love.” The cool blade continued to rub against my skin. “I want you to bleed for me.”
Ten. Eleven. Twelve….
My breath hitched as the point of the blade pierced my skin and dragged down my arm. My instinct was to fight. To get away. But I remained still as the blood rose to the surface of the cut then slipped over the barrier of the separated skin and trickled like a beaded pearl down the inside of my arm.
“You like the pain. Don’t you, Delara?” he whispered.
No. I hated it. I hated what it reminded me of. The weakness of being unable to face my emotions. The feeling of hopelessness.
He ran his finger across the wound, smearing the blood across my skin. “I will always give you what you need.”
Inside I screamed and shouted, and in my imagination I grabbed the blade and tore open his throat. And I would.
He pushed me away from him and I stumbled to my hands and knees. “Get up. Lean over the bed.”
No way in hell. I’d kill him or I’d die before I let him rape me.
The vibration of his cell rang in his pocket and he swore beneath his breath as he took it out and barked, “What?”
He glared at me then walked out.