Running his hand through his hair, he plops onto the other side of the bed, “I’m not entirely sure. There were countless demons in there, presumably with their sacrifices, if their cage setup was any indication. One of which was wailing, trulywailingfrom the loss of who I’m assuming was their host. He begged for death, for peace, for oblivion. It was the most haunting sound I’ve heard in all my years. He was the one who answered when Bel asked for a name.
“There was a chair in the middle of the large room, not unlike the chair they had Bel strapped to, and a trail of blood leading from the chair to a side door that we did not have time to explore. I can only imagine that Bel was forced to watch them torture this Mavis person.”
“We have to get them for this, Caspian,” I plead, “We owe it to her. To those trapped inside. Bel will never be free from that place unless they are, too.”
“I can’t lose her,” his voice cracks, “I can’t. If we go back there, the chances of her escaping again? There are none. They won’t hesitate tokillher, Fritz. You must see that. So, no. I will not allow it.”
“What if there was a guarantee she couldn’t die?” I question, thinking perhaps her immortality could tip the scales.
“From what I saw in there, they’d probably enjoy it immensely if they could gut her again and again without her soul departing from its body,” he shudders. I do, too, thinking about how many ways they could harm her if they didn’t have her mortality in the way. “I am begging you to drop this, Fritz. If you let it go, she will too, eventually.”
“Caspian, there has to be-”
“She wanted to die in there, Fritz,” he raises his voice slightly, and everything in me goes cold. “She told me that she killed that man knowing she would be going with him. She had no problemdyingso long as he went with her. What do you think she’ll do if it comes down to her life vs. the litany of prisoners they have in there? Hmm?” He reiterates his point, scolding me, “She wanted todieto rid the world ofoneof those monsters. She’ll make that choice again and again, given the chance. If I have to be her worst nightmare to keep her from killing herself, I’ll do that. Will you?”
I nod, obviously, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”
He blows out a breath, “Me too. She’ll be furious with us, but she’ll be alive and that’ll have to be enough.”
In the back of my mind, I worry that if she isn’t given her chance to free them, she’ll never forgive herself. Caspian wants to protect her, as do I. But there has to be a way to protect her and free her from this. There’s nothing I can do about it right now, but I vow to myself to talk to Eamon about the possibility of destroying just this one compound.
Tomorrow.
But for now, I’ll lie awake and soak in these few moments of peace while Bel and her friend sleep in the next room. Grabbing a deck of cards, I ask Caspian if he wants to play while we wait for morning to come.
“I do not know how,” he confesses.
“Then you have all night to learn,” I shrug, shuffling and dealing the cards before explaining the basic rules of the game. We have nothing to bet, but we’ll make do.
We play until the sun rises, and then we prepare the coffee and breakfast for the twoveryhungover women about to rise.
Open Wide
Bel
I jolt upright with a gasp and instantly regret it. The pounding in my head and nausea swirling in my gut force a groan from my throat. How much did I have to drink last night?
Snoring sounds from beside me, the roar of it compounding the ringing in my ears. I gently nudge Isla with my hand, curious if it’ll be enough to rouse her. Instead, she rolls away from me, mumbling at me to fuck off. With a laugh, I relent. We must havereallygone hard if even she’s still sleepy.
A quiet knock on the bedroom door is followed by the peeking of Fritz’s head around it. I wiggle my fingers in greeting before putting a finger over my lips in a silent plea for him to be quiet. Holding his hands up in mock innocence, he nods and walks over to my side of the bed.
Lowering to his knees, he gestures me closer. I swing my legs over the edge until they’re right in front of him. With one hand on my knee, he cups the side of my neck and pulls me to him, forehead to forehead. He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out, his sensual cinnamon scent surrounding me, making me dizzy.
As he breathes, all the pain leaves my pounding head, and I sigh in elation. I relax into his hold, eyes fluttering closed. I could get used to having a hangover cure on hand at any given moment.
“Good morning, my Songbird,” he coos, “I heard you awake and you sounded like you could use my assistance.” He pulls back slightly and places a chaste kiss on my forehead.
Opening my eyes, I allow myself to gaze at the beautiful man before me. He grins at my perusal, surely sensing the affection blooming within me. The intimacy of the moment is utterly ruined by the return of Isla’s horrific snoring. It’s so jarring I have to slap a hand over my mouth to contain the laughter trying to escape.
“Come, Sweets. I’ll make coffee,” he stands, taking my uninjured hand to lift me out of the bed. We walk toward the door, but he momentarily pauses, holding up a finger. He walks back to where Isla roars like a fucking lion and places his hand gently atop her head, breathing deeply before returning to me. He answers my unasked question, “She drank more than I’ve ever seen a human consume without vomiting. She needs the help more than you did.”
Holding back another laugh, I nod and lift myself to kiss him on the cheek. At the last second, he turns and seals his mouth to mine, cementing us together with a hand cupping my nape. He tries to pry my lips apart with his tongue, butabsolutely notuntil I’ve brushed my teeth.
I playfully shove him away and dart out the door, running through the opposite room to my ensuite. I note Caspian sitting in my bed, watching me with thinly veiled amusement, telling me good morning as I jog by. “Morning,” I chirp back before closing the bathroom door behind me.
Walking to the sink, I realize I’m going to have to do all of my getting ready with only one hand.This is going to be a nightmare.I chance a look at my bound hand, completely wrapped to the point I can’t even move my fingers independently of each other. I use my left hand to not-so-gently rip the ponytail out of my hair. I grab my toothbrush and lay it on the counter, balancing it to dispense toothpaste right onto it.
It takes me twice the usual amount of time, but I manage to at least get my mouth to stop tasting like cotton and old tequila. I take in the rat’s nest that my hair has turned into with despair. There’s no fucking way I’ll be able to tame it with only one hand. The invisible weight on my chest grows heavy, and I try to breathe through the pain.
