I’m perplexed by the lamia’s submission, and it dawns on me that maybe he doesn’t know how to fight. Every lamia I’ve ever run into seemed battle ready, but maybe the whole collective of this nest isn’t. Adriel raises his hand, and the shouts and growls echoing around the stone walls grow quiet. He takes a step toward me, and I tighten my grip around the cue, which is thankfully still whole.
“Put it down now, and I’ll chalk this up to a misunderstanding. You’ve yet to be told the rules of my house and therefore couldn’t know how serious we take slaves shedding blood. Or what we do to anyone who interferes with an elite and their feeder,” Adriel’s words move powerfully around the room, and I can tell they’re meant for the lamia and their rising anger more than they’re meant for me.
I feel the female behind me shakily stand up and press in closer to my back. Adriel takes another step toward me. “I will not ask you again. You will stop this temper tantrum right now, or I will kill the human you’re stupidly risking yourself to protect. I will disarm you, beat you, and then force you to watch me rip her apart piece by piece.”
The female at my back flinches and then quietly whispers, “They’ll torture me anyway.”
Her voice is the slightest puff of air as it hits the back of my neck, and I can almost feel the bitterness in it dripping down my spine. Laughter titters through the surrounding lamia, and I glare at the threat that hangs in the air.
“Would you rather die?” I ask, my eyes locked on Adriel, and he chuckles as an amused glint enters his eyes.
“You’ll need much more than a pool cue if you want to come for me, Sentinel,” Adriel mocks, but I don’t miss theyesthat caresses my shoulder.
I drop the pool stick, and satisfaction lights up Adriel’s face. That is, until I pivot behind the female, reach up and snap her neck. She goes limp in my arms, and I carefully lower her to the cold ground. Adriel roars out, “NO,” but I’m unfazed by his outrage. I brush strawberry blonde locks out of the young woman’s face and wonder how the fuck she ended up here? What kind of hell was she living in that would make her rather die than face what might happen next?
I find the buckle on the back of her collar and remove it. There’s so much noise and action all around me, but it feels like a dull roar to my ears as I tune it out and add this woman, whoever she was, to the list in my mind who will be avenged when Adriel is ash. I look up to find Adriel stomping toward me. He back hands me so hard that my entire face and neck explode in pain, and I’m slammed to the ground. My ears ring as I try to push off the ground, and I feel a booted foot kick me in the stomach. I try to roll away from more kicks, but someone grabs me by the hair and pulls me up from the ground.
I grab the wrist of whoever’s fist is wrapped around my ponytail and try to pull up on it in an effort to distribute my weight and keep chunks of hair from being ripped out of my scalp. I dangle painfully until the face of the lamia I tried to kill on the couch is in my face.
Well, fuck!
I’ll have to make the hole in his neck bigger next time.
20
Iskid across the rough dirt of the cell I’ve just been thrown into. I grunt in pain from the impact and cough as the dust my body just kicked up tries to settle in my lungs. The door is closed behind me, and I relax against the ground and breathe through the pain. Blood trickles from my nose and my lip, and it mixes with the hard packed dirt beneath me. The sight and smell of it remind me of the room in the barn that I discovered Siah in, and I internally curse at the fucked up full circle moment.
I wipe at the blood slowly dripping from my face and wince at the pain that throbs in my cheek and jaw. I put up a decent fight against the beating Adriel sanctioned. I got in several good hits those fuckers didn’t see coming, but in the end, there was only so much I could do with no magic against the speed and strength of a group of lamia. Lucky for me and my bones, Adriel called it after one of them tried to bite me, and my shields popped up to stop it. The instinctual trigger of my magic sent me to the ground, writhing in pain, and when it happened again, Adriel decided the punishment wasn’t worth the risk of losing me.
I grab for my collar and methodically inspect it, looking for any indication of how it’s held together around my neck. The metal is cold against my heated skin, but no matter how slowly I search, I can’t find a seam or anything else that indicates any kind of release. The metal collar is smooth against my neck and somewhat rough and porous on the other side. I sit up slowly and press a palm against my right side.
My ribs are tender as fuck, and they’re either bruised to hell or they’re broken. I debate ripping my sweater up and trying to bind my injured side, but the idea of only being in a bra the next time Adriel pulls me out to play feels like a bad fucking idea.
I look around the barely lit cell I’ve been abandoned in for the moment to see if there might be something else in here I could use. I’m not sure what I’m expecting to find. I’m pretty sure they didn’t throw a first aid kit in here with me, but my eyes roam around, delusionally hopeful all the same. I freeze when I spot a pair of thin legs sticking out from the furthest dark corner. I’m shocked to realize that I’m not in here alone, and I instantly debate whether I’m in here with someone who could possibly help me or hurt me even more.
I haven’t been this bad off since I left Beth’s house, and as curious as I am about whoever is in the corner, I should maybe give myself as much time as I can to recover before I face the owner of the emaciated legs. I’ve no sooner decided that when the door to the cell slams open again. A canteen is thrown into the room, and it bounces against the wall, making a deafening racket. The cell door quickly closes again, but the skinny legs have been pulled into the darkness of the corner, and it’s clear whoever is over there is now awake.
Neither of us move to retrieve the canteen, even though I’m dying of thirst. We both sit in our unlit corners, waiting and watching.
“Pretty sure that’s for you,” a dry and obviously unused voice rumbles out from the darkness.
“How do you know?” I question after a couple minutes of awkward silence. I wince as I speak the words, the cut in my lip painfully protesting the movement.
“They’ve never thrown shit like that in here for me,” the disembodied voice offers, and I stare at the canteen like somehow the mystery of its appearance will reveal itself if I can just not blink long enough.
“Well, you probably need whatever’s in there more than I do,” I tell him, and the cell grows silent again.
I get itchy from the feel of this person’s eyes on the dark corner I’m shrouded by. I’m pretty sure I’m as hidden from him as he is from me, but this back and forth is weird. He’s obviously in this cell for a reason, and I think it’s safe to say it’s not because he’s a friend of Adriel or his nest. What’s that saying…the enemy of my enemy is my friend? I crawl out of my dark corner and over to the metal canteen. I pick it up and slowly shuffle toward the stranger.
“No harm in sharing,” I announce when I get within reaching distance of him, and I stretch my arm out, offering the canteen, and push my hair out of my face.
The stranger gasps and leans forward, and the dim beams of light illuminate the planes of a gaunt face that’s simultaneously foreign and yet familiar. I lean back in shock, trying to process what I’m seeing.
“Is it you?” the familiar stranger asks me, and I’m too stunned to form coherent words. “How?” he asks again, and this time his Sahara-kissed voice cracks with emotion.
I run my eyes all over his face, looking for some kind of proof. “Dad?” I ask quietly, the question spilling out of me like water, surprise and hope saturating every drop.
He shudders, and his face fills with pain. I watch him physically fight off the blow that apparently my question is to him, and understanding and horror slam into me like a tidal wave. I drop the canteen on the ground and slam a hand over my mouth, forcing the horrified gasp back down my throat.
