Fourth a Lie (GODDESS ISLES Book 4)

by Pepper Winters

  “I’m coming inside, Sinclair.”

  I nodded, backing up and creating space in the cramped prison for a visitor. Bumping into the wire behind me, Eleanor gasped right by my ear.

  Fuck.

  I couldn’t control it.

  The need.

  The paralyzing thirst to touch.

  My hands fumbled against the bars, slipping through and finding her.

  Holy shit.

  The chemistry that’d overrode Euphoria and elixir—the spark of power that only grew stronger the deeper I fell—crackled in my bleeding fingertips.

  She gasped, feeling it too. Our bodies in-sync. Our bond unbreakable despite how much I hated that she’d come back.

  My head bowed as my fingers found her cheek.

  Her breath caught as she kissed my thumb, her skin so soft, her hair still damp from the rain. “Goddammit, Eleanor.” Bringing her face toward me, I closed my useless eyes, focusing on the tingly proximity of her rather than my broken sight.

  “I’m here,” she whispered, her breath feathering on my lips just as I found her mouth.

  I kissed her.

  I convulsed with sorrow and sadness as her familiar taste and comfort slipped through my bleeding body and into my heart. My skin prickled. My chest squeezed. My nose, even scrambled by bleach and stench, recognised her subtle delicious fragrance.

  She smelled like my sea.

  She smelled like me...an extension of my sex and soul.

  A loud twang sounded, ripping us apart. “No kissing!” the mercenary snapped. “No touching.”

  “Leave them be. They’re both dead tomorrow,” Dr Campbell muttered, his body brushing against my legs as he set down his medical bag, the leather creaking in my ears.

  It hurt me worse than any torture Drake had done, but I released Eleanor and sat back in my cage. I fought the curse of her, the jinx she’d put on me. If I’d known this would be our ending, I would’ve denied my need for her.

  I would’ve set her free the second she appeared.

  “Sully...”

  “Don’t.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, doing my best to shove away my debilitating pain and stay awake. Sitting up stole the rest of my energy. Nausea climbed up my gullet. I hated the blackness of my world—the unknown threats lurking right outside. “How many men are in here with us?” I asked the doctor.

  His clothing rustled. “Three currently, but another two are outside.”

  “Can you take the pins out of his fingers?” Eleanor’s voice wobbled. “They’re still stabbing his right hand.”

  I splayed my fingers, seeing nothing. I’d gone past sensation. I’d blocked out the discomfort to focus on the worst parts.

  Campbell lowered his voice, slipping to an audible I might not have heard if I still had sight. “Sinclair...I’ve brought a few of the noncompliant serums and pharmaceuticals. Do you give me permission to administer?”

  My mind raced. After years in the business of drug manufacturing, we had crates of failed experiments and unapproved medicines. Some were rightfully denied—causing worse side effects than the original problem. But some...some were just too potent to be approved.

  Those would decimate the industries and cause anarchy in the public sector because to them...they were miracles. Drugs that could work in a fraction of the time as others. Creams that could reverse damage in a few hours. Nanobots injected in a fluid that could knit flesh together from the inside out faster than any surgeon.

  I had no idea he had a stash on my shores.

  Gritting my teeth, I nodded. “Use whatever you want. I need to be able to walk. To see. To fight.”

  He cleared his throat, taking my right hand and using a pair of tweezers to remove the nails holding the fingerprint sensors against my flesh. “There might be side effects that we can’t foresee.”

  “I’m aware.”

  Eleanor sucked in a breath. Following our conversation, she understood the risks but wisely stayed silent.

  Removing the final nail, Campbell sighed and settled into his task. “In that case...let’s begin.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I NEVER TOOK MY eyes off Dr Campbell as he pulled the buds from Sully’s ears and threw them away in disgust. “Chilli in someone’s ears? He’s a madman.”

  Sully winced. “I told you I was the sane one.”

  My trust was a shattered thing by my feet.

  Was Dr Campbell part of this war or had he been caught in the middle of it?

  Who was our enemy, and who was loyal?

  “Is Cal still alive?” Sully murmured, keeping his voice too low for the guards to hear.

  The doctor nodded. “He’s made it through the past few days. He’s getting stronger but still hasn’t woken.”

  Cal?

  What happened to Cal?

  Sully nodded, flinching as Dr Campbell cleaned his face, throat, arms, and hands with antiseptic wipes, smearing away as much blood and sweat as he could. “The massacred guards? Are they rotting on my beach?”

  The doctor blanched. “No, he dragged them out to sea. There’s no evidence of what happened.”

  Sully sat unmoving, callous. “And Skittles?”

  Skittles?

  My heart fisted. “What about Skittles?”

  Sully’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t reply, allowing the doctor to speak. “She’s recovering too. Her wing will mend.”

  “Her wing?” I blurted.

  “She broke it,” Sully muttered. “Trying to defend me.” His jaw clenched; the cords of sinew visible in his neck as he struggled with the truth. “I’m sorry, Jinx.”

  “Sorry?” I struggled against the rope trapping my hands. I needed to touch him again. It was the only thing that made sense. The only thing that calmed my heart even though it existed in a hopscotching, hiccupping mess. “Don’t apologise. She loves you. She—”

  “I put her in danger. Just like I put you in—” He hissed between his teeth as the doctor stabbed the back of Sully’s hand, inserting a new needle and bag of antibiotics.

  “This is concentrated. I don’t like your fever, Sinclair. We need to lower your temperature if you’re to stay conscious.”

  I bit my lip, forcing myself not to ask questions about Skittles and the drugs that Sully had agreed to take. What sort of side effects? How deadly could this be?

  For the next fifteen minutes, I stayed silent while the doctor did his best to put Sully back together again. I watched as he smeared black cream over the bloody abrasions around his wrists and ankles.

  I flinched as he patted the raw flesh of Sully’s chest with a green goo that made his back bow with an influx of agony.

  Two colours that I’d never associated with healing before. Black and green. Poison. Dangerous. Wrong.

  “Take these.” Dr Campbell took Sully’s hand, popping four pills into his palm. He waited for Sully to place them on his tongue before passing him a bottle of water from his bag.

  Sully downed the entire thing.

  “Shit, I should’ve remembered sooner.” Pulling free two tin-foiled wrapped sandwiches, the doctor passed one to Sully and placed one on my lap through the bars. “It’s simple salad and egg. The only ingredients I could find in the kitchens with the staff evacuated.”

  Sully ripped at the foil, wolfing the food down. “Seems you’ve thought of everything. Guilt’s a bitch, huh?”

  The doctor scowled. “I told you it wasn’t my intention to cause more pain. I just wanted to protect the goddesses.”

  Sully snorted, wiping crumbs away from his chin.

  I eyed mine.

  With my hands tied, I had no way of eating. Not that I had an appetite. My nose reeked of antiseptic and Sully’s blood. But I was sensible enough to know I’d need the energy later—if I could figure out how to eat it.

  My mind dared skip into the future, to fixate on the deal I’d made with Drake.

  Sully was being cared for...but I would pay the price of that luxury.

  When Dra
ke returned, I’d be forced to drink elixir for the fourth time and lose myself in the haze of desire. I would have to give myself to another man...all to save the one I loved.

  Tears prickled. Fear rose.

  Don’t.

  Just don’t.

  Sniffing back helplessness, I kicked the sandwich off my lap and swallowed down my nausea. I almost threw up as Dr Campbell turned his attention to Sully’s leg.

  Sully stiffened as he unwrapped the bandage, snarling under his breath as the sodden material pulled at the wound.

  Light-headedness hit me as the full carnage of his thigh appeared.

  Oh. My. God.

  What had Drake done to him? Shot him with a fucking arrow?

  Tears spilled, despite my commands not to. I sniffed and trembled as the doctor inspected the stitches holding Sully’s leg together and poked around as if it was a chewed-up piece of meat that had no feeling.

  Sully swayed as the doctor grabbed a huge, wicked syringe from his bag.

  He looked up, searching Sully’s face, unable to catch his blind eyes. “You might want to lie down for this.”

  Sully swallowed hard. “What are you going to do?”

  “Your stitches have pulled away in some areas. There’s puss which indicates the antibiotics aren’t working as quickly as I’d like. You’ve agreed to the less mainstream methods. I intend to administer them.”

  “Ah, fuck.” Sully gingerly lay down on metal wire, his eyes closed and face tight with pain. His hands balled as Dr Campbell repositioned himself between Sully’s spread legs and inserted the nasty looking needle directly into the wound.

  Sully bellowed. His body spasmed.

  He fell lax into unconsciousness.

  The doctor looked up, waiting to see if he’d wake. When he didn’t, he muttered, “That’s for the best. I can work quicker with him no longer aware.” Injecting him again, he continued inserting and depressing the plunger until the silver liquid had evacuated the syringe and vanished into Sully’s flesh.

  Next, he pulled out a needle and surgical twine, embroidering new stitches on the areas that’d pulled out of his skin. Finally, he squirted a skin adhesive, gluing Sully’s leg as well as stitching it. “That should hold...as long as he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

  My sandwich lay forgotten on the floor.

  I clamped my lips together, fighting the urge to vomit.

  Tears cascaded faster as I studied the mangled man in the cage.

  I didn’t care about my own predicament. I didn’t fret over my payment with Drake.

  All that mattered was Sully.

  He was still the majestic magistrate of this paradise, but he’d paid for that title with every drop of blood he had. Every molecule of pain. Every shred of sanity.

  “The harpoon really mangled his thigh,” the doctor muttered, wrapping a fresh bandage around Sully’s leg.

  Harpoon?

  My heart cracked; I slouched in my rope.

  I’m too late.

  If only I’d arrived sooner. Found him quicker.

  Dr Campbell looked up. “I know he’s going to attempt to walk on this. I know he doesn’t really have a choice...but I can’t guarantee he won’t have a permanent limp if he does, even with the nanobots knitting him together.”

  I bit my bottom lip and didn’t speak, too green and terrified to reply.

  He returned to work. Once he’d secured the bandage, he crawled toward Sully’s face and peeled open his eyes.

  He winced. “He’s right. I am guilty of this. What a fucking bastard to do this to his own kin—to anyone.”

  Swallowing hard, clammy with sickness and full of pain for what Sully endured, I stuttered, “What...what did he do to him? Is he blind?”

  “Whatever he did, the sclera is irritated, and his cornea is black. His pupils don’t dilate with light. I’ve never seen anything like...wait.” He narrowed his gaze, leaning forward. His hand trembled as he pulled Sully’s eyelid higher and touched his pupil.

  A black contact lens stuck to his finger, pulling away and revealing an angry purple-blue iris.

  “It’s just a blockage.” He smiled weakly, hope flaring over his face. “A simple barrier...a curtain if you will.” Peering at the lens on his finger, he added, “A lens that blinds instead of enhances.”

  I couldn’t speak.

  I could barely contain the rage toward Drake and the relief for Sully.

  The doctor gave me another half-smile before returning to his task. Removing the other lens, he applied three drops of something into each eye before sticking thick cotton pads over Sully’s eyelids. “If he wakes, tell him to keep the padding on for as long as he can. The more time those drops have to work, the better his chances at seeing.”

  I forced myself to ask, “Will he have his full sight again?”

  He shrugged, pulling out another syringe, this one full of golden contents. “Time will tell. He’ll be hazy for a few days. There are scratches and traumatised blood vessels, but I am hopeful it’s not a permanent disability.” Inserting the needle into Sully’s bicep, he plunged the golden liquid deep and wiped at the bead of blood left behind.

  “What did you just give him?”

  He sighed. “Something that would never pass clinical trials but has proven to be miraculous for those on death’s door.”

  Goosebumps spread over me, prickling my skin. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean...whatever you two face tonight...that should grant him the power he needs to endure it.”

  “Will...will he be okay?”

  He nodded. “He’ll stay alive...until Drake decides otherwise.”

  Alive.

  He’ll stay alive.

  It was a magical incantation to incapacitate me.

  I’d fought for so long.

  I’d searched and called; I’d bribed and threatened.

  I’d spent almost four days ignoring sleep and sustenance so I could get back to Sully and hear those very words.

  He’s alive.

  He’s okay.

  I couldn’t fight it anymore.

  He’s okay...

  I bowed my head as exhaustion crept over me.

  The guards had drifted toward the exit, three of them sprawled in chairs and gossiping like old women.

  The immediate danger had been removed...for now.

  Sully had been treated.

  He was asleep and doing exactly what his body needed to heal.

  He’s alive...

  My eyelids fluttered downward, feeling heavy and determined to rest.

  He’s okay...

  I folded forward, held by a rope, dragged into the darkness, out cold before the doctor had finished.

  * * * * *

  “Eleanor...”

  Sully.

  My eyes shot wide. My heart kicked awake. I moaned as aches and stiffness shot down my back—my spine did not appreciate my slouched imprisonment.

  “Are you okay?”

  I laughed sadly. “You’re asking me if I’m okay?” I watched Sully’s every move as he struggled to sit upright, wincing and hissing. His body was no longer the sleek, invincible man I’d been sold to but a pieced together king who’d been overthrown. “What about you?”

  “What about me?” His lips thinned as he swayed, his forehead furrowed as he fought the residual unconsciousness and pulled out the drip from the back of his hand. His fingers strayed to the cotton over his eyes. “What the—”

  “Leave them on. Let your eyes heal.”

  He stiffened. “Did Campbell figure out what Drake did to me?”

  “He removed the lenses blinding you. He believes they were tampered with to ensure no vision was possible.”

  His chest rose with harsh hope. “I’ll be able to see again?”

  I truly, truly hope so.

  “If you leave the drops in for as long as you can...he believes you should, yes.”

  “Thank fuck for that.” He bowed his head, dipping his fingers through his bronze-d
ecorated hair. The tips of each pad held a small scab where they’d healed from the pins driven into his flesh. The skin under his nose still gleamed red and sore; the insides of his ears had streaks of blood from the earbuds and the rest of him...

  Don’t look.

  My heart couldn’t handle the pandemonium his body had become.

  Focus on his face. His lovely, lovely face.

  That’s enough...for now.

  Sully shifted again, the metal cage creaking in protest. “Is it dark?”

  I licked my lips, looking out the window high above the stack of dog, cat, and mice cages. “Dusk is falling.”

  “Shit, how long have I been out?”

  I shrugged, activating more aches. “Seven hours or so? I’m not sure. I slept too.”

  “Goddammit!”

  “Don’t yell...save your strength.” Tiredness and tragedy wobbled my voice. “It’s fine. Drake hasn’t returned, and the guards are outside having a smoke. It’s just us...”

  His fists curled, his nostrils flared, his rage was palpable, leaking through the bars. I understood his anger, but it cost so much energy to be mad. Energy he didn’t have.

  “Sully...please, relax.”

  “Relax?” He bared his teeth. “How can I relax knowing you’re here? How the hell did I sleep seven fucking hours when your life is in my hands?”

  “My life is in my hands. I came back of my own accord—”

  “You came back when I told you to stay as far away as possible.”

  “You didn’t. You agreed to temporary all while you lied to my face,” I snapped, skating my gaze to the exit and the locked door between us and the mercenaries. I didn’t know when they’d left, but I supposed they figured two unconscious people who were tied and caged weren’t going anywhere fast enough to warrant sitting inside all day.

  “I’m not debating this with you,” he growled. “You never should have come back.”

  “Never?” I struggled to suck in a breath. “You could have survived never seeing me again?”

  “Of course not. It felt like I died the moment you took off.”

  “Well then, you’re welcome.”

  “Christ, you test me. You’re not getting it. I love you. Do you understand that? I fucking love you more than anything and anyone, but having you here? You’ve ruined me because how the hell can I protect you? How can I stop him from touching you, fucking you, hurting you? How the goddamn fuck am I supposed to protect you when I’m shackled, wounded, and blind?”