“Dorian?”
I’m careful to speak his name quietly, part of me praying he passed out and not wanting to wake him if so, but also desperately wanting reassurance he’s still alive. Not even sure what it is I’m hoping for, I wait, but the only thing I hear are footsteps and the sound of a body being dragged out of the room.
“Just tell me what you want,” I repeat on a low whisper, knowing my words will fall on deaf ears, but growing increasingly desperate.
Not a word, just the sound of the door slamming shut behind them. I’m left wondering if Dorian’s alive, if he’ll be tossed in a room to die alone, abandoned and forgotten. Atlas didn’t sound like he had it as bad, so they’re clearly escalating and I nearly vomit over what that means for Cambria. And who knows what the fuck else is happening outside of this room?
Tapping my foot, I count down the moments before they’ll drag Cambria in here for a repeat performance, estimating the lapse of time between Atlas and Dorian. Yet another hour ticks by and nothing. Another still, and not so much as the creak of the door.
“What do you want!?”
No reply comes, not that I actually expected it to. My heart starts beating faster, trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling. As soon as I thought I’d gotten a handle on what was happening, they change tactics. I’m unable to prepare for anything, left just fuckingwaitingfor things to happen.
And still, for what? No one is asking for information. I wasn’t patted down despite it was clear we came from the house, so it’s not as if someone was after secrets that they thought I was hiding inside. I’d cut off my own foot if someone would just tell me what the goddamn point to all of this is, to clue me in on how to stop it; how I can convince them to focus their wrath on me and get the others out of here before they have to suffer any more.
What if she bled out? Or they killed her? The first guy thought she was a witch; maybe they didn’t think it was worth the risk of letting her sit around alive and chance that she might manipulate her way free. No, she can’t be dead, or I would be too...right? Though Achlys said things might be different because of me being involved.
But for being some supposed fae, it isn’t like I feel anything other than rage simmering in my veins. No power that could help us out of this mess, no mind reading or teleportation. I’m just Lucien; the man that couldn’t protect his father, brother, or his new family. A failure, in every single interpretation of the word. I’m left alone, replaying their cries and wishing I could bear the pain for them.
The door eventually creaks, and I wait for the sound of Cambria telling someone off, or hell, even a hiss of breath. But the only thing I hear is a solitary set of footsteps on the cement floor and I go cold, praying that doesn’t mean she’s already dead.
“It’s just not enough,” Victor says with a sighs and I grit my teeth, but don’t bite. “I thought it would feel better than this, but look at you.” He pauses, considering and dragging it out. “It’s like nothing ever fazes you. Even now, it’s like you want answers more than you want to save them.”
He leans in close, so that I can feel his breath on my face. “Do you even care that he died, Lucien?”
My heart stutters as my breath seizes in my chest. “You’re lying,” I whisper, but I know Victor. I’m well aware of the lilt to his voice when he twists the truth in his favor for a deal or flat out lies. And not a single syllable wavered with his words.
“And why would I lie about something so serious?” he taunts, clucking his tongue. “The infamous Lucien Avrell, the human robot. You make your millions without a second thought to anyone that gets hurt in the process, don’t you?”
He grips my hair, craning my head back as if he wants me to look him in the face, though all that I see is utter darkness. “Because what does it matter who gets hurt so long as you can live the life you want, right?” he shouts, spittle flying onto my face.
“What. Do. You. Want.” The words come out between gritted teeth, wanting this power play to get to the fucking point.
“I want you to feel even a fraction of what I do,” he states quietly, and I’m not sure he meant for me to hear it. Louder, he continues, “I want you to know what it’s like for a change, to suffer without reprieve. Grieve, with no end in sight.”
He smacks my cheek roughly a few times before departing without another word, leaving me absolutely lost.
Expecting another long stretch of silence, I swallow as he leaves the door propped open behind him. There’s a low murmur of voices and the sounds of several people milling about in the hallway. The first real trace of fear starts to settle into my bones, because whatever’s coming, he doesn’t care if anyone hears.
I’ve known Victor for years, and he’s always been unstable. He may masquerade as a businessman, but when he was on the verge of bankruptcy, he showed his true colors. And I don’t care how many years it’s been; madness like that doesn’t ever fully disappear.
The vestiges of insanity will linger until the end of time. Those fractured pieces of darkness take root too deeply to ever be fully expunged. But I always imagined it would take more than a business competitor to tip him over the edge.
A feminine scream splits the air, followed promptly by a series of profanities that put Atlas’ to shame. My blood runs cold; relieved that she’s still alive, but hating what that means. The others were just a warm up, fine tuning their torture for maximum results.
“You win, are you fucking happy!” I jerk against my bonds, though I’m aware it’s an effort in futility. “You’ve made your point!”
My head snaps to the side, not anticipating the blow that comes my way. Yet the mouthful of blood isn’t satisfying in the least, because Cambria’s pained screams keep coming. No matter my attempts to get the focus turned my way, they just divide and conquer; a sadist allotted for each of us.
At least now I finally have a source of pain I can wrap my mind around, something to ease my guilt. They can punish me all they like, though it’s nothing compared to what I deserve. But better to suffer alongside the people I love than be forced to watch helpless from the sidelines.
“It’s not a goddamn game,” Victor seethes. “There is no fucking winning. The fact that you don’t get that just proves Ihaven’tmade my point.”
Victor grips my shoulder, giving me a split second to brace myself for the first time since being dragged here. I grunt as the wind is knocked out of me, his fist buried in my stomach, but I welcome the pain. Anything to make me feel as shitty on the outside as I do on the inside.
“Then enlighten me.” I spit to the side rather than in his face like I’m tempted to, because I know he’d take it out on the others instead of me.
“You had one fucking job, and you couldn’t even do that, could you?” he shouts just before his next punch slams into my other cheek.
