“Yes. Thank you for that. I’m not oblivious.”
“I’m surprised he’s still breathing.”
Another sigh. “I think about it daily, but V would be pissed at me. I’m giving him a bit of grace period to get over it, considering he just found out she’s my wife eleven hours ago.”
Hemlock popped his head into the room, glaring at me.
“I still don’t understand what the fuck she was thinking when she did that. When we find her, I’m going to have to make sure you didn’t coerce her into it.”
I flicked my fingers in his direction. A pebble of ice took form and hit him square in the forehead.
“Fuck off, dude. I didn’t coerce her into anything.”
Hem gave me a sad smile. “Well, let’s hurry up and find her so I can make sure.”
I nodded. I wasn’t the only one who wanted to get her back, worried about what she might be going through. Violet teased me about having a team. Well, I accepted it now and we were going to do whatever it took to get her back.
Even if we had to burn the city down to do it.
44
THE VOLUNTEER
Four weeks.
Four weeks of darkness.
Four weeks of beatings.
Four weeks of torture.
Four weeks without a word.
Four weeks without a sound.
Four weeks without Austin.
I knew he was out there, searching. Even with the black mist coating our bridge, I could feel him. His growing stress, his growing frustration, his growing panic. It made me wonder if he could feel mine, so I’d been trying to lock away my own emotions.
I didn’t want to cause him more pain. I didn’t want him to feel what these people were doing to me.
I was right about my first day. That beating was mild compared to what was to come. It only took a few days before they upped the violence—broken bones, knife wounds, torn skin from whips; he even decided to brand me.
They moved on to mental torture after week one. They had a witch—turns out witches were real, that was crazy to learn—who spent the last three weeks trying to break into my mental shields. Fat fucking chance of that.
I reinforced them every time I got back to my cell. They were completely fortified. My stone castle had yet to be breached, but—in addition to the moat—I added another wall, one of blue fire. The witch wasn’t strong enough to pass it.
They went back to physical torture last week—they probably hoped the combination of both would break me. But Officer Fucker clearly had no idea who he was messing with.
Today, they dragged me into the usual torture room. Eight guards like usual—two with their hands on me, six with tasers. You make one escape attempt, killing three guards, and suddenly you’re a flight risk.
They brought me to the back of the room, nothing out of the ordinary there, but chained me facing away from the wall—interesting. What could they?—
The door Shithead usually came through opened. But it wasn’t him or the witch. Instead two guards were dragging a petite blonde woman into the room. Kicking and screaming.
Amber?
For the first time in weeks I felt genuine panic. They hadn’t been able to get to me, so they got to someone I loved. My best friend.
