God of Monsters (Juniper Unraveling Book 4)

by Keri Lake

  It doesn’t make sense that the guards remain loyal to Remus and Agatha, either. Not with the way they’re treated. Maybe I’d have an easier time appealing to them. At least they have something to appeal to.

  The stories told of Alphas warn of their stony hearts. Impenetrable and incapable of mercy. I believe it now.

  Shadows announce the long, ungraceful strides of a man, and when Jarvis steps into the entrance of my cell, the breath withers inside my chest. His hand is wrapped in gauze that he keeps close to his body, as if to protect it. Pale, damp skin emphasizes the dark circles under his eyes, and the way he sways on his feet tells me he’s weak, perhaps on the verge of passing out.

  “Agatha … asked for you.” Breathless words barely carry across the room, while he grips the bars of the cell to steady himself.

  “Jarvis, are you okay? You look like you’re not feeling well.” If I had to guess, his arm is likely infected, though I can’t tell through all the bandages. “Can I look at your arm?”

  His shoulder shifts as he pulls his arm tighter to his body, but he doesn’t refuse.

  At a cautious pace, I pad across the room, and once I’m standing before him, I reach out for his arm. This close to him, I can see his whole body is shivering, can feel it when my fingertips make contact with his elbows.

  He jerks back, but I look him in the eyes, nodding with assurance.

  His shoulder sags again, his elbow weighing heavy in my palm, and I swallow hard, going to work on his bandages. The cloying scent with each peeled layer confirms my thoughts, and my stomach twists, the closer I get to his actual wounds. If it is infected, I have nothing to give him, no antibiotic, or poultice, as I was taught to make by Nan. Assuming Remus paid for Jarvis, he might be willing to salvage his investment by seeking those out somewhere, but time is not on this man’s side. As I wind the last of the bandage away from his hand, a gurgling rumbles in my gut with the exposure of his fingers that have been eaten down to the bone by some kind of acid. Yellowish pockets of pus ooze from the angry flesh still clinging to the bones. The odor hits the back of my throat while I examine his hands, taking note of the purplish tone of his skin, which might suggest gangrene. Cold to the touch.

  His hand will need to be cut off, if that’s the case, because I’m certain, between the debridement his wound would require and the antibiotics to treat the infection, finding the supplies out here would be impossible.

  “It’s infected. It needs treatment.”

  “And what might … that be?”

  Instead of answering, I set to wrapping his hand back in the bandages, winding it as fast as I can to smother some of the foul scent clinging to my nostrils. “I’ll see if Remus can get his hands on some antibiotic.”

  “Why are you … doing this? Why did … you try to … help me … when they did this?”

  His shortness of breath makes me a bit nervous of septic shock in him. I once helped Nan treat a woman who’d given birth and developed sepsis from Group A Strep. Even with the small bit of technology and access to antibiotics that we had, the woman died.

  “I don’t believe humans are inherently bad, I guess.”

  “After … what I … did?”

  “We’re motivated by different things, Jarvis. Though I can’t say what motivated you to act so stupidly, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

  Eyes watering, he snorts a short laugh. “C’mon. I’m not … getting in trouble … again.”

  I secure the end of his bandage, my head reeling with thoughts of what tonight might bring. More punishment, I have no doubt. The welts on my back are less tender today, but haven’t disappeared. As I follow him out of the cell, I stare down at the concrete passing beneath my feet. How I wish I could dig myself a hole and disappear, like the girl in a book I read back in Szolen, who could open portals to other worlds. I’d grab Will and disappear from all of this hell.

  By the time we reach Remus’s room, my stomach is a pot of bubbling vexation. Jarvis uses his good arm to swing the door open and my heart catches in my throat when I catch sight of Will, sitting in the center of the room, his hands bound behind the back of his chair. From beside a barred window, Agatha saunters toward him as I enter, and traces her finger over his shoulder, which flinches on contact. His skin is pale, his face gaunt and the shadows beneath his eyes speak of little sleep.

  At the end of the bed is a contraption that’s no less disturbing than the tipped cross from a few days ago, but this one sits on the floor. A steel frame with two leather padded props, each connected to belts that hang off the side. Frowning, I try not to imagine its purpose and, instead, turn my attention back to Will.

  “What is this? What’s wrong with him?”

  “Tell me, Thalia. How do you know this handsome boy?” Agatha winds her fingers in Will’s hair, wrenching his head back, and drags her tongue over his cheek.

  Grimacing, Will snaps away from her, and she giggles with the rejection.

  “I don’t know him personally.”

  “Really? Because I swear you do.”

  I don’t even have to look around the room to sense a complete absence of Remus. I’ve noticed Agatha becomes more emboldened when he isn’t around. “I understand Remus asked for me?”

  “Remus didn’t ask for you, silly girl. I did.” Glancing toward somewhere beyond me, she gives a nod, and the shadows behind me shift.

  I turn to see Titus step forward, and my blood turns to ice when he strides up close enough to dwarf me. The story Tom told me comes to mind. How Agatha made Titus tear a man’s guts out just to hurt Lindsay.

  “Look how big he is, Thalia. How strong. Can you even imagine such a thing moving against you?” She lazily sidles up alongside the beastly man, dragging her fingertips across his chest and arm. “He’d ravage an innocent thing like you, like a wolf ransacking a precious little lamb.”

  “What do you want, Agatha? Why did you ask for me?”

  When she circles back to face me, I see she’s grabbed something from somewhere, which she holds up when she plops herself at the end of the bed. It looks like a gun, but given the presence of Titus in the room, I’m guessing it shoots the darts Tom told me about. My suspicions are confirmed when she aims the weapon at the man standing just behind me, as though she needs to assert her authority for what comes next.

  “On the bench.”

  Gaze flitting toward the contraption, and back to her, I shake my head. “What for?”

  “I want to watch Titus fuck you.” As she shifts her attention on me, my heart slams against my chest, branching crystals of panic climbing my spine, the moment her lips stretch to a smile. “Rough, angry, animal sex. Like a brutal sire fucking a bitch.”

  A tortured cry echoes through the room, one that should belong to me, but when I glance toward Will, he’s shifting and writhing in his chair.

  Seeing him look so helpless somehow brings my reality into sharp focus. I not only refuse to endure such a thing, but I will not force him to watch it, either. “You …. Remus wanted a virgin to bear his child.”

  “Yes, that’s true. And I suppose he’ll have to look elsewhere, because you’re definitely not a virgin.”

  “I told you. We’re deflowered--”

  “No, no. I believe you’ve got the story wrong, Dove. See, Will claims that he was the one who took your cherry.”

  No. I shoot my gaze toward Will, who won’t even look at me. “He’s lying.”

  “What does he gain from lying? Look at the poor boy. He hasn’t been given any privileges for his honesty.” She jerks the gun toward the contraption again. “On the bench. Now.”

  “I very much doubt your brother would approve of this.”

  “Remus isn’t here. He has some business with Legion for the next couple of days. I’m sure he’ll be upset when he sees his precious little virgin Daughter ruined beyond repair. But he’ll get over it. He always does. Now, get on the bench before I decide to tell Remus that I accidentally shot his beloved Daughter with
a dart gun. Which, by the way, would be far less pleasant. Titus can attest to that.”

  “Why? What have I done to make you so angry?”

  “What makes you think I’m angry? You think this is jealousy? No, no. I do this because I genuinely enjoy it.” Swinging the gun toward Will, she doesn’t bother to look as she pulls the trigger, and the first dart lodges into the wall, the sound, on impact, flinching my muscles. “Get on the bench,” she says, casually loading another dart. “He might not be so lucky this time.”

  Nerves rattled, I reluctantly lower myself to one of the leather padded props, confused as I sit down on it.

  “No. That goes beneath your belly. Get on all fours.”

  As I rest my stomach against the padded seat, it becomes clear, based on the length of the contraption, that the second prop is meant to rest my chin against it. The moment I’m in place, Agatha secures the leather belt across my back and the second behind my neck. Two more loops at the foot of the contraption secure my wrists.

  “This is called a breeding bench. It’s modeled after what dog breeders once used before the Dredge. To hold the bitch still. My uncle used one for our dogs. He was obsessed with pure breeds. Anything else was unacceptable. He once killed an entire litter of mutt puppies.” A tickle traces down my spine where she runs her finger. “Sometimes, he let me watch the breeding. I was fascinated by the way the female just stood there. Her choices stripped. She looked so powerful to me.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Remus talks about you incessantly. About your purity. Your chastity. It sickens me.”

  “Listen to me. I want nothing to do with Remus. I promise you.”

  “Again with the jealousy. You think this is jealousy, bitch?”

  “What is it, then?”

  “Pure entertainment.” She lifts the gun toward Titus. “Before we get to that, I want you to break every bone in Will’s body. Leave his neck for last.”

  “No! Please!” I wriggle in the binds, as if there’s any chance of escape, and crane my neck in search of Titus. “Please, don’t!”

  “For someone who doesn’t care much about him, you sure are making a lot of noise.”

  The Alpha hasn’t moved yet.

  “Please! Don’t hurt him, Titus. Please.”

  “I gave you an order.” Agatha lifts the gun toward Titus. “Do as I told you.”

  “Enough!” Jarvis lurches toward Agatha, and in the next blink, Titus issues a blow to his chest that knocks him to the ground, where he lies unmoving. The man’s heart probably stopped the moment Titus’s fist made contact.

  Eyes wide, Agatha giggles, her gaze shifting from Jarvis to Titus. “Now Will. Break his bones.”

  Once again, Titus doesn’t move.

  Cold steel hits my temple, where she holds the gun to my head, and that’s when the Alpha’s muscles finally flex into tight fists. “I don’t need to remind you what happens when a human gets shot with a dart. Do I, Titus?” Another long pause, and Agatha pets the top of my head. “I wonder how long she’ll last. A minute? Ninety seconds?”

  Like a machine, Titus sets into motion and strides across the room toward Will. Screams rip from my chest as I watch him stand before my friend, towering over the much smaller soldier. Will’s cries echo over my own, and in one brief snap, they die to silence. The Alpha steps away to show Will slumped over in the chair.

  The cry that tears out of me is inhuman and raspy, brimming with misery and pain. Cold, numbing shock washes over me like a wave, pulling me under. Tears blur his form, and I have to look away.

  Agatha lowers the gun and groans. “Titus, you are beyond frustrating sometimes. I should punish you for defying me.” On an exasperated huff, she swipes up her glass from the nightstand and takes a sip from it. “But I suppose you carried out the most important task. So instead, I’ll reward you by allowing you to take this female.” She saunters toward him, but keeps her distance at the same time, holding the gun out in front of her. “She’s yours. Ravage her. I know you fancy her, so now’s your chance.”

  I turn my attention back on Will.

  My friend.

  The only one who came after me out here. Who risked his life to find me. Murdered as coldly and carelessly as if he never existed, at all.

  By a beast. A heartless bastard of a man who probably can’t wait to ravage me like the animal he is.

  Body trembling against the posts propping me up, I can’t bring myself to look at him. This vile, disgusting creature, no less abhorrent than the mutation he fought on my behalf.

  “Go on, Titus. She’s yours. Take her violently. Fuck her like a savage.”

  Every second that passes, I slip further into the place between here and somewhere else. A void inside my head where they can’t touch me.

  “If you don’t want her, I’m certain my uncle will take her. What do you say? Will you stake your claim to her, or let him have her?”

  Another moment passes, and Titus strides over to me.

  Wriggling against the binds, I shake my head and tug hard to get loose of the belts strapping me down.

  Titus disappears behind me. The rustling of his clothing announces his intentions.

  “Oh Thalia. Oh, you poor, unwitting little thing.” The amusement in Agatha’s voice only stokes the panic beating through me. “I can’t wait to watch him shove this monstrosity inside of you.”

  “No! Don’t! Don’t do this!”

  As I wait for him to violate me, a warm fluid saturates my clothes. The strong scent of ammonia tells me it’s piss. The bastard pissed on me.

  Wretched sounds of Agatha’s cackling has me screwing my eyes shut, while Titus finishes relieving himself on me, and I open them in time to catch the back of him as he strides out of the room.

  “That’s too bad. However painful it might’ve been, I’m certain that Titus would’ve made a much less terrifying sire than my uncle …. Hendrick!” The sound of her shout skates down my spine, and I’d love nothing more than to listen to her gagging on her own blood. “Hendrick, come here, please!”

  One of the guards steps into the room, a gun strapped across his chest.

  “Please escort Thalia down to solitary. First cell.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “You heard me. I’m sure our happy little Rager is ready to breed something again.”

  Chapter 20

  My screams echo down the hallway, as two guards grip tight to my arms, dragging me toward the solitary cells. Another guard, one I recognize as the bird killer, leads the way.

  “What’s going on here? What are you doing?” The second Tom gets to his feet, the lead guard pushes him back, causing the older guard to topple backward. “What are you doing? Put her down!”

  Wriggling and screaming in their grasp, I try to break free, but to no avail, as the guard ahead of us opens the cell where the Rager is held. Panic squeezes my lungs, banishing the air from my chest, and with a hard shove against my back, I stumble forward, falling to my knees. Concrete scrapes across my skin, and I twist around, scrambling for the door as it slams shut.

  “No! No! Let me out of here! Please! I’m begging you!”

  The sound of clicks and growls from behind set my teeth on edge, and my neck is so stiff, I can hardly twist to look at the Rager I know is somewhere behind me. With slow movements, so as not the startle it, I turn around, back flat to the wall, and I’m greeted by the shadow of a figure. Memories of the night in the cave play inside my head. The night the Rager scrambled over top of me.

  “Tom! Tom! Please let me out! Please!”

  No answer.

  The guard doesn’t appear at the door.

  No one is going to save me this time.

  Every cell in my body quivers, as I mentally count off the seconds to the moment this thing rapes me, or eats me alive. I’ve heard they eat the flesh down to the bone sometimes.

  And then polish off the bones afterward.

  “Please!”

  The Rager lurch
es toward me, and I let out a scream.

  Inches away from me, it skids to a halt and sniffs the air. It snarls and snaps its teeth at me, its ruined lip twitching. On a hiss, it lurches again, but stops short of me, and quickly scrambles back.

  As if … it’s afraid … of me?

  Swallowing a gulp, I don’t take my eyes off the thing as I try to figure out why the hell it hasn’t attacked me yet. The one in the cave didn’t hesitate, after all.

  It snaps its jaws again and growls, but with a step toward me, it hisses again and backs away.

  “Get away from me!” I shout, and the Rager flinches, backing itself further into the shadows. “Go! Get away!”

  The room almost appears empty, save for the small bit of light shining in from the hallway. After a few more minutes, it still hasn’t tried to attack.

  Weak with exhaustion, I finally break down, as the weight of it all presses against my shoulders, and I slide down the wall. As soon as my behind hits the concrete, I notice something on the floor beside me.

  A bone.

  Whether, or not, it’s human, I can’t tell, but I toss it away from me.

  The Rager scampers out of the shadows on a growl, and I suck in a gasp at the sight of him again.

  It gathers up the bone from the center of the room and retreats to the shadows once more.

  Pulling my knees in tight, I sit against the wall, wondering how long it’ll take before the monster becomes bold enough to scramble for me again. Will I wake in the middle of a dead sleep to find it feasting on me? Or worse?

  The sound of growls rouses me from the blackness, and I open my eyes to find the world tipped on its side from where I lie against the concrete. Memories filter in. Agatha. Will. Titus. Being dragged to the Rager’s cell.