Five

Alex’s back had begun to ache as she slept on the wiry cot.

            It had only been a few hours since she was taken but it felt like days as she lay about, wondering what was going to happen to her. Her headache never left, keeping a constant stinging pain in the back of her mind. Her whole head pounded with the thumping of her pulse and the ache became so uncomfortable, she’d actually vomited in the farthest corner of the tiny room once. The putrid smell of digested pasta and chicken caused her stomach to roil even more until she passed out both from the pain and nausea.

            The door opening caused her eyes to crack open. She murmured a curse before the movement of her mouth sent a jolt of pain down her spine. God, why did her head hurt so much? She never had a headache this bad before. She groaned and turned over, clutching her stomach has she fought the urge to puke.

            A sound of disgust made her jump before large hands lifted her onto her feet. “Up you get, now,” the accent was faintly English. “He wants to see ye.” The voice was gruff, matching that of his hands as he hefted her up and out of the room.

            The smell of clean air made her stomach settle but her head still hurt terribly. “Where are we going?” She mumbled in between yawning and drooping eyelids. Her head was resting on something hard, maybe a shoulder, as she was practically dragged to wherever they were going. Thwe toe of her boots kept catching on the concrete floor.

            “It’s a secret,” the man sighed. “You’ll see soon enough, darlin’.”

            She fought the urge to smack him as she was too weak. Plus her body felt like it was on fire at the moment too from the pain that constantly ricocheted throughout her entire being. She moaned, the fire cascading down her back and into her arms but not before she felt the hilt of his knife pressing into her side.

Everything went black.

 

“Wake her up,” a deep, booming voice commanded. It called to her, silencing the rising heat in her body. Her skin prickled from the sound, making her heart stutter a cadence she’d never before experienced.  

            Alex felt a kick in her ribs causing her to roll over and vomit. She swiped at her mouth before cracking her eyes open only to be met by Ryn and the two men from the previous night. She groaned and sidled to her hands and knees before a boot was placed on her shoulder, forcing her into a “bowing” position. She grunted when her cheek hit the floor, eyes travelling up the grimy stone to a pair of black designer boots tucked under dark slacks with a crease in the middle.

            She looked higher, passing bent knees in a seated position, up a long torso encased in red silk hidden by a dark suit jacket, up to a thick neck that finally ended in a beautiful face marred with scars. And then she saw his eyes. Her heart stopped as he glared back at her, her body ceasing all voluntary control as it began shuddering violently. His eyes, they were two different colors. The right one was a deep green, glittering like an emerald in the right light. His left eye resembled a pool of blood, red and bright, with a scar slashing across his double pierced brow to end just below his left cheek. His hair, black as night, curled over his collar, hanging down to his clavicles in sleek pieces, framing his hard jawline. He had one hand under his chin as he watched her assessing him.

            She recognized him but who was he? She didn’t know. Maybe he was someone she had known long ago or she’d seen him in passing but who knew. All she was worried about was why did he have her here and what was he planning on doing with her?

            The man was sitting on a throne of sorts, mismatched and thrown together to resemble a chair of importance. It looked like one of those large and ornate dining chairs in dark woods and red velvet. The back even reached the top of his head, ending in spikes reaching towards the heavens. The armrests were just as ornate as the back with swirls and spikes pointing every which way. His right hand rested on a knee, aged silver ring with a dragon’s head adorned his middle finger.

            “Rise,” he demanded.

            Of course, she did not do this of her own accord. Nope, she was heaved up under her armpits by Ryn who set her carelessly on her feet. She somehow had enough energy to not stagger once she was straight, the dull headache creeping its way back. “Who are you?” Her voice was weak and dry, having lacked proper necessities for the past whatever hours.

            He waved her question away as he stood, straightening his jacket. “My name is not important. You are very valuable to me, my dear,” he smirked, revealing almost perfectly straight, white teeth.

            Knowing her heritage, she hedged on. “Why?”

            He shook his head, hair falling into his face, giving him a boyish appearance. Had they met under different circumstances, Alex may have wanted to land in his bed however, his cold, hard stare made her think otherwise. He even had a freaking dimple on his right cheek! What the f**k? He crossed over to her and struck the back of her knee, causing her to cry out and kneel. “Oh, I will have fun with you, DeLuca.”

            She struggled to get up, the pain in the bend of her knee halting her movements. “How do you know who I am?”

            He caught her by the neck in a flash. He was quick. He was a daemon and they sported inhuman reflexes. Her air was cut off as his fingers squeezed, pulling her along his body to where her feet dangled over the floor. “You do not recognize this face?” He hissed, lowering her so they were eye level. His left side was riddled with scars while his right remained perfect. “You should know who I am,” he breathed.

            “N-no,” she wheezed out.

            Laughing, he lifted his arm before he slammed her on her back, her head clashing with the hard ground. She gasped for the air that suddenly escaped her with his fingers still closing around her neck. “I am the one who suffered at the hands of your blood. I am the one who will make you pay for what he did.”

            Black edged her vision and she was losing this fight fast. Think, Alex! She gripped at his bicep, clawed at his wrist, used her boots to gain momentum but to no avail. It was useless. She had lost. This would be her end. She frantically searched the back of her mind, trying to figure out where she knew him from but couldn’t find the memory. She shook her head once, then twice before his eyes relaxed, as if listening to some unheard command, and loosened his grip but still clutched her throat. “I’m s-sorry. I can’t recall how I know you,” her voice cracked.

            The pain behind his eyes was enough to cause her pity and empathy. He had suffered a lot, much more than she. Sure, she’d been ridiculed all her life because of what her father chose to do and the reason why her mom was absent but he’d been through much, much worse.

            He let her go and stood abruptly.

            “Please, who are you?” Her vocals where nearly shredded from him almost breaking her neck. “Why do I know you?”

            She gasped upon the realization. This was the man she’d dreamt of when she was taken. He was the one in chains and being tortured through unknown means, face in unbelievable anguish. He was turning to go when she hopped up to grasp his shoulder as he turned away. Her other hand fingered the silver blade before she struck out at him, instinct and adrenaline taking over.

            But he was fast. He caught her wrist, nearly breaking it, as the knife almost sunk into his neck. Damn. She used her other hand to sock him in the jaw but he caught that too. So, she relied on her boots and kneed him in the gut which hit home. He released her weapon hand and she dove for his heart. But he turned her at the last moment, hand pressing down on her shoulder from the front, and she nearly missed her heart as the blade slid into her left shoulder from the inertia of her moving. The blade sunk into his hand through her shoulder. His fingers gripped the gaping hole, creating a cacophony of pain like no other. Crying out, she fell to her knees.

            She felt his blood drip down her front, mingling with her own. The pain was unbearable and had her vision going in and out. Her breathing became erratic before he pulled the knife out of both of them. “S**t,” she heard him mutter before her lids finally won.

            The image of a tiny dragon with broken wings was the last thing she saw.