by Jean Booth
“Feeling better?” Tommy asked, nuzzling my neck with his nose. His breath sent involuntary shivers down my body, hardening my nipples and moistening my core. I cringed at my body’s reaction, praying he’d ignore it and let me go.
“Yes, thank you. Is it over now?” My throat was killing me. I still couldn’t completely focus my vision on anything, but my body was no longer screaming in agony.
“I’m afraid not. Nicholas will continue to use the elements to cleanse you of your physical bonds. Once those are removed, Madelyn is to heal your body and rid you of your spiritual bonds.” His husky voice rasped against my chin.
One of his arms tightened reflexively around my waist while the other continued to bathe me in the healing waters. His arousal continued to bob against my hip, belying his earlier insistence that he didn’t want to be a part of this. As hard as I tried to ignore it, it bothered me. I squirmed to escape his embrace.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered against my throat, turning his head to nuzzle behind my ear. “How could you still be so loyal to a man who obviously doesn’t want you?”
“W-what?” I whispered, still raw from the abuse of the elements.
“Raifuku used you. You’re only a means to an end for him. You know that, right?” Tommy’s eyes bored into mine, begging me to believe him. “Raifuku’s only desire has been to be reunited with my sister. They knew each other as younglings and promised to mate when they were of age. Marie was devastated when Atlantis sank.”
His words shattered my heart. Why would Raif want me, when he had Marie? No wonder he was in such a hurry to get me out of Atlantis. The faster the prophecy was completed, the faster he could be reunited with the person he actually loved. Something didn’t sit right with Tommy’s words though.
“Why sever the bonds then?” I croaked, pain and heartbreak lacing my words.
“An Atlantean has to die, not a human convert, and Marie would like to have her fiancé.” His words made sense. “There will be another mated pair. They will fulfill the prophecy, and then she and Raifuku can be together again. Once he sees that she waited for him, he’ll discard you in a heartbeat. You’re just a means to an end for him.”
“Why?” I asked, the pain in my voice alerting him to the full question. Why are you telling me this?
“I would never do that to you,” he whispered against my ear. “I would show you such love and devotion, you would never think the name Raifuku again. I can see your beauty.” His hands roamed freely across my body, leaving my nerve endings on edge. “I would never abandon you. Never use you. I would only show you pleasure beyond comprehension.” He did just as he said, using his fingers to ease an ache I’d had since I left Atlantis.
“I would show you the true joys of being a Changer. I wouldn’t leave you to have to learn from a vampire.” He spoke the words with such disgust, as if the thought of leaving me alone was abhorrent.
A part of me craved him—at least, craved what he was offering. A place to be welcomed, loved, cherished—a true soul mate. As the doubt and confusion settled in, he gently carried me to the tank.
“No,” I protested, squirming in his slick embrace.
“We must remove your bonds to the one who wants to use you if we’re to be together. Don’t you want to be loved?” He nuzzled against my cheek.
I did. I wanted love more than anything.
I drowned, was burned, buried, and battered by the wind so often it was becoming my routine. I didn’t know how long I was there—days, hours, or months. Time no longer mattered to me. I’d lost hope of escape or survival around the fourth time Tommy carried me back from being battered by the wind. I was weak, starving, and in constant agony. I prayed for death.
Each time I saw him, I asked about John. Each time, his answer was the same. He was healing with Madelyn, and once he was strong enough, they’d find a way to get me out of this hell. I couldn’t let go of the flicker of hope that John was alive, that he’d at least find refuge with Stephan. I begged to see him for myself, to see with my own eyes that he was healing.
Tommy had finished cleaning me as I hung limp and lifeless against the side of the hot spring. His constant stories of Raif and Marie ate away any hope I had that I’d truly found my soul mate. Doubt clouded my brain, removing any ounce of hope I’d ever had at finding love in Raif’s arms again. Pain was my constant state of being. I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t hurt.
Tommy’s gentleness was my only refuge. He showed he cared, giving constantly, only asking that I be strong, so we would be free to be together. I didn’t even know if that was what I wanted. I just wanted the agony of this to end. I was starting to feel some affection toward him though; each time I found myself in his embrace, I relaxed further into accepting him and his lust for me.
“Nicholas said I could take you to see John today if you’re able to walk on your own.” His hand trailed up and down my back with gentle strokes. I couldn’t muster the energy to care, but I knew I had to see that John was okay, if only so this torment could end. I did feel a flicker of some emotion other than pain at the mention of Nicholas’s name and tried to grasp it. It fluttered away as elusive as hope.
I broke out in a sweat as I tried to stand. It was the first time I’d attempted to move since my first cleansing. It took more effort than I expected. I was extremely weak. My voice sounded odd to my ears—scratchy, thin, and without inflection.
“Take me to him.”
Tommy led me up one flight of stairs, out into the hall, and through a door on my right. I was still naked, my abused skin too sensitive to handle clothing of any kind. I didn’t care. I just wanted to see that John was okay.
He lay in the middle of a massive bed, lights low to protect his eyes from their glare. I sank to my knees in relief when his eyes opened and looked at me.
“Natasha? What have they done to you?” His voice was a blend of horror and surprise. He leapt out of bed and came close to me. He paled as he looked at my abraded body. He looked perfect.
I don’t know what it was that made me scent him. Either mistrust at the tiny flicker of hope furled in the hollow excuse of my heart, or the knowledge that Nicholas couldn’t be trusted. Either way, I lifted my nose to him as he came closer and searched for the familiar scent of sagebrush in the fall. It was missing.
My hands curled into fists, nails elongating and biting into my palms. A small part of me that could still function realized two things in that moment. First, this wasn’t John. Second, this was the reason John and I were both here.
“It was you,” I rasped, the accusation causing James to pale even further. He’d led the siblings to my home to abduct me. Rage blossomed in my chest. I could barely speak past the rage that burned inside me. “Not John.”
“What? I didn’t hear you. Are you okay?” James’s concern didn’t even register in my consciousness. I looked up at him, my brown eyes full of malice.
“Not John,” I said seconds before I swiped at him. Four ribbons of blood blossomed across his face, surprising us both. It fueled my anger. I screamed as I slashed him to pieces, my body covered in his blood and gore as he took his last breath. I whispered one last thing to him as he died, an accusation, a curse. “Not John.”
It was all I could say, my mantra as I killed the impostor, the betrayer. My chest heaved with exertion. I turned toward Tommy who looked at me with respect and adoration in his eyes. Now that my rage had dimmed, he easily dodged my flimsy attacks on him, throwing me to the floor and pinning my hands above my head, kissing me harshly.
“You are so unbelievably beautiful. Let’s go.” He helped me to my feet and walked me to the door. He walked down the hall and waited for me at another door. Blood dripped down my broken body as I walked over the pristine carpet. I didn’t care. That stupid flicker of hope was a beacon, calling me towards the door. Inside was another bedroom.
It reeked of sagebrush in the fall. I could’ve wept at the smell. The scent of herbs and blood wafted
out to me, and I knew I was finally seeing John. I leaned heavily on the doorframe, knowing I didn’t have the energy to take another step, but needing to see him for myself. He was my person, my responsibility, and I had to know he was healing.
“Natasha? Dear gods, what have they done to you?” he whispered, eyes round in his gaunt face. He tried to get up and come toward me but winced with the pain of movement. A woman stood next to his bed, clucking over him. I knew I didn’t have much time to talk. Nicholas wouldn’t want us conspiring against him. What we could do in our weakened state, I had no idea, but I knew Nicholas wouldn’t risk his life on that.
“Real John. Killed not John. Run. Be safe. Leave me.” My voice was a strangled whisper of sound, but I had to tell him. I hoped he could hear and understand me. Tears came to his eyes as he nodded slightly. Tommy scooped me into his arms and carried me back to the tank.
THE FLAMES licked across my body as I lay, unmoving, where they left me. This was the eighth time they’d danced on my skin, and I no longer cried out or struggled against them. I wanted them to finish their job, to end this suffering. I was tired of the pain.
It seemed as if I’d felt nothing but pain since I mated. It was supposed to be a joyous time, a time when I was finally whole. Instead, all I felt was anger, hurt, and pain. Raif had discarded me, possibly lied to me. My sister had betrayed me with her secrets. James betrayed his brother and me to a psychopath. Stephan abandoned me when I needed him the most, and now this physical pain matched my internal suffering. I just wanted it all to end. I didn’t want to live this life anymore.
The flames shifted. Rain pattered down on my blistered skin. This was different. I heard the crackle of lightning, the roar of the thunder past the sounds of the dying flames. I sighed, wondering what new torture I was to endure, surprised that I even cared. I wished they’d just let me die.
The flames disappeared with the storm. The winds picked up, and all around me, I could hear screams of death. They were different from my screams. Mine held agony, the knowledge that I’d live through the pain. Theirs held finality, knowledge that this would be the last sound their bodies uttered. I shuddered and prayed that the angel of death would have mercy and take me next.
The gentle rain never picked up around me, and the winds never touched me. It was as if I were the vortex of the storm, the eye of the hurricane. All around me was death and destruction, but I would remain untouched. I cursed my luck. I prayed for death, and it refused to answer my call. I didn’t have the energy to move, let alone mastermind an escape. I could only lie on the stone surface and pray the pain would go away.
I heard voices through the storm. In my delirium, I envisioned them as the angels of death, come to decide how I was to die. The small ember of hope flared as I thought I heard Stephan and John looking for me. It couldn’t be them. Tommy told me I’d killed John, thinking he was someone else, and Stephan abandoned me long ago. I was delusional, my pain-addled mind playing tricks on me to give me hope. I imagined them talking about me.
“She should be in the center of the storm. Look for the rain,” Stephan’s voice yelled against the wind.
“There! I see her, at least, I think it’s her.” John’s excited voice echoed in the wind. “Oh, dear gods! What have they done to her?” His horror filled exclamation was quickly followed by sounds of retching.
“Oh, Tasha, forgive me for being so late. John, hand me the wrap. We need to get her home immediately.” Stephan’s voice was filled with regret.
The rain stopped, and I felt a soft fabric settle on my skin. It felt like silk. It was the first thing to touch my body that didn’t cause pain. I moaned. Strong arms lifted me in a gentle embrace. Stephan’s ozone scent enveloped me, and I passed out.
I CAME to in a bed. I was damp, the taste of blood was in my mouth, and strong arms were curled protectively around me. My skin didn’t hurt any longer, but it was still faintly pink. I rubbed my hands on my smooth arms and marveled at my body’s healing capabilities. I was still completely hairless, but my skin was growing back without a mark on it.
The body behind me stiffened for a second before relaxing and gently releasing me from its embrace. Stephan’s weight shifted as he sat up.
“Where are you going?” I croaked out, voice husky and sore from being abused. I didn’t want Stephan to leave. I was afraid he’d leave, and I’d wake up and be back in the caverns.
“I’m just getting you another wet sheet and some blood. I’ll return shortly.” He wouldn’t look at me. He kept his feelings completely hidden from me.
I sat up, testing my newly healed skin on the satin sheets. I didn’t hurt. For the first time since I was taken, I felt okay. The sheets were damp, but not uncomfortable. They molded to my skin and were soothing to the touch. Hesitantly, I reached up to my face. My skin was intact, and I had eyebrows and eyelashes. I could have wept with joy. My shaking hands went to my burned scalp.
I was afraid I’d be bald, that my hair would never grow back from the repeated singeing it took. I liked my hair. I really didn’t want to lose it. My fingers ran through slight stubble across my scalp. It was soft, baby fine, and mine. Stephan walked in as I was petting myself. I blushed and brought my hands back to the covers. I pulled them up high and he sighed.
“I’ve already seen you, Tasha. We have to change the coverings every couple of hours to make certain you have fresh water for healing. This was the only way we could keep you wet. You screamed and thrashed against everything else. I promise not to ravish you.” He kept his eyes averted from me as he held out another water-soaked satin sheet. He came closer and quickly removed my damp sheet to replace it with the one he held in his arms. I noticed he was soaked as well. He must have stayed with me the whole time, wrapped up in the water. I smiled at that knowledge.
“Here, drink this. It’ll help you heal faster. I have John working on breakfast for you. I’m not sure when you ate last, but you need sustenance other than my blood.” He held out a cup filled with dark liquid. I reached out for it. As soon as it was in my hand, he bolted to the door. “Forgive me for failing you, my lady.” He finally met my eyes. His were filled with unshed tears. Remorse coated his whispered words. My heart broke.
“You didn’t fail me. You saved me.” It still hurt to talk. I drank his still-warm blood and felt content for the first time in a long time. I whispered one last thing, not really caring if he heard the need in my voice. “Please, don’t leave me.”
He moved to the side of the bed. I patted the spot next to me. It was all I could do. I didn’t want him to leave, but it hurt to speak. He crawled onto the bed next to me, cautious not to jostle my body. My lips curved with relief. He collapsed in my arms. His body shook with his sobs as he clutched my waist. Even as he clung, weeping in my lap, he was careful of my healing tissue.
“Forgive me. Thank Poseidon we found you, but please forgive me! I am so grateful that you still live! Thank the gods.” He mumbled into my belly as I stroked his hair. He whispered nonsense in his native tongue. His tears mixed with the water already soaking my skin, and I held him until they subsided.
“Stephan, I’m tired. Lay with me?” I whispered as his weeping slowed. He blinked up at me, his tearstained face in awe.
“I would do anything for you.” He blinked at me and for the first time, let me see the love he held for me. He would never act upon it, but I knew then that the kiss we shared in our dream was somehow real. It had been something he’d wanted, something we both wanted.
He cocooned me in the soaking sheet, draping a corner across my head, and curled up behind me. His arms wrapped protectively around me just as they had been when I woke a few minutes earlier. I drifted off into a peaceful, healing sleep.
When I woke, hours later, I was starving and alone. I sat up abruptly, wondering where Stephan was. The room was dark with the night, but the covers kept me centered in reality. I wasn’t in the cavern. I was at Stephan’s. I was safe.
I got out of bed and sto
od for the first time since seeing John healing in bed. My legs were shaky but held. I walked to the bathroom to use the facilities and take a shower. The water was heavenly. My hair had grown another inch while I slept and was just starting to take on some curl. The little hairs on my arms were back, as were the hairs on my legs. I couldn’t bring myself to shave off those happy little nubs; I was too excited to be getting back to normal.
I dried myself off gently and turned to look in the mirror. I was spotted red and pink. Every inch of my body had burned and been abraded by dirt and wind. I had a gash high on my hip that I didn’t remember getting. It was healing but looked as if it’d leave a scar. It was the only mark on my body. My eyes were the same since I’d changed—dark brown flecked with teal. The only thing different was my hair. It was completely black. The red and brown highlights I’d had since changing had disappeared. Maybe they’d come back after some time in the sun. It was also baby fine. I hoped it would go back to normal.
Satisfied that externally, I was fine, I left the bathroom in search of clothing. Stephan entered the bedroom just as I did. He stared at me, mouth dropping in shock. He averted his gaze just seconds after I saw the lust. I walked to the bed and grabbed the damp cover.
“Where are my clothes? I’m feeling better now and would like to get dressed.” My voice was stronger. It didn’t hurt so much to talk anymore.
“They’re down the hall in your room. I can take you there if you’d like.” He glanced back up at me with a tentative smile on his lips.
“That’d be nice,” I said and took his hand in mine. I smiled up at him. “After that, I want to eat. I’m starving.”
He laughed as my stomach growled, accenting my statement. It was nice to hear him laugh. I was worried that he’d continue to be standoffish and our fragile relationship would continue to be strained. He walked me to my room and waited while I changed.
