“That’s enough, my lord,” a male said, the tone of voice chillingly familiar to Amelia. “You should allow our newest member to contribute, my friend.”
Of course Lord Byron wasn’t about to stop the torture. He just wished his offspring to prove himself.
“But of course. It’s your turn, Councilor Araon.”
A gravelly timbre this time. One that dripped with false courtesy but managed to convey condescension all the same.
“Please do go on,” the owner of the same voice prompted. “Show us what you are made of.”
No movement. Only silence.
“Come on, Son.” Byron again. “Or would you like for Councilor Artair to continue?”
And if the sound of footsteps was any indication, his father’s words had finally prompted Araon into movement. Which jolted her brain …
Aroan was there. And he had to know that she was present, as well.
Amelia’s eyes snapped open, only to encounter all-encompassing darkness.
Lord Aroan had already set to work.
A tiny whimper affirmed that Amelia’s guess was right. And with that small, terrible sound, the world collapsed on her.
So, this was the true face of Lord Aroan mac Conaill.
Like father like son.
They were both scheming, lying, slaving cowards who took pleasure in the innocents’ suffering. Who liked to inflict pain themselves – on those weaker than them. Like this poor, innocent, enchained woman.
Cruelty must’ve run in the family. Along with depravity and murderous instincts.
But no more. Aroan wouldn’t get another sound out of this woman. Amelia couldn’t stop the torture, but she could make sure the victim didn’t react and felt no more pain.
These monsters would derive no more pleasure from this.
Reawakening the skill that was also her biggest liability – and for once not caring that it could mean her discovery –, Amelia focused her whole attention on the human woman laid out like a sacrifice, reaching out for her mind … finding it … gently nudging to gain entrance … And she was in.
Now for the tricky part.
She had to sift through the woman’s brain and locate the part that was responsible for converting stimuli into signals – into pain – and shut it down temporarily, without damaging her. Which …
It would be more like brain surgery than anything she’d attempted before. She’d only ever worked with thoughts and memories. Skimming the surface of a mind. Getting a feel for someone’s intentions. Planting harmless suggestions. And–
And that was exactly the answer.
She had to make the woman believe she wasn’t in pain.
Solution found, Amelia surged ahead, easily circumventing the weak block that protected the human’s mind, and started to sift through the broken shards of thoughts that made up the top layer.
Why why why I hate them I can’t hurtsss make it stop stop JUST LET ME DIE
No! Amelia interjected, cutting off the woman’s desperate mental flow. The agony was still lurking there, though, so intense that it threatened the damage the woman for good.
It’s over. You aren’t in pain anymore, Amelia repeated in the woman’s mind again and again, projecting calm and reassurance, determined to soothe her even as she kept monitoring to new flashes in her brain. Amelia didn’t allow those impressions to reach the woman’s consciousness. They never registered with her – but Amelia saw them all.
Burns. Deep slashes. Shallow, precise cuts along both forearms and following the lines of her ribs. Torn flesh wherever the flogger had ripped into delicate skin on the woman’s front and thighs. Into supple flesh, muscle and sinew.
So much damage … How had she held out this long? She must be so strong, to have endured all that and still be sane. And she was. She was strong and steadfast and ready to help. Someone others could rely on … had relied on. Here in captivity … Back in her old life … And in between … Inherell.
Amelia stumbled to a stop, barely remembering to keep up her suggestions against the onslaught of pain as she realized she knew this woman.
She had to, since she remembered her.
Who are you?
She whispered the question to the woman’s brain, and it supplied her with a tumble of images. Snapshots of the past. And among those pictures, Amelia detected recent ones in which she could identify the woman – her friend.
Amanthea!
Yesyesyesyesyesss…
She had to stop this.
Realizing the suffering had taken on a new nuance, Amelia returned her attention to those unprocessed flashes of the present, finding smothering pressure instead of intense bursts of pain. It was time for Amanthea to lose consciousness, and this provided the perfect opportunity.
Her torturers wouldn’t suspect something was amiss.
Sleep, she whispered in Thea’s mind, soothing her. Rest. I’m here. I will take care of everything.
Slowly, Amanthea’s breathing slowed. The tumble of terrible images decelerated, until only one or two new ones appeared here and there, then ceased …
Amanthea was finally asleep.
Amelia knew she had to hurry. She had to disentangle herself from her friend’s consciousness and return to her own body. She needed to be ready to act, and with Thea unconscious, she had no idea what was going on around her any longer. Still, before she left, she had to keep her promise and make sure her friend wouldn’t hurt when she came to. That she wouldn’t even remember.
She couldn’t just erase her memories, though. She couldn’t violate a friend’s mind that way, nor her trust. So Amelia created a hidden room – a kind of vault. And she locked the terrible images of the past hours inside, leaving only some vague basics at the forefront of Amanthea’s mind.
Even though she wouldn’t feel pain, Thea had to know that she was hurt and needed to be careful. But she didn’t need to panic – that would only be to their detriment.
Keep calm. Stay strong. I’ll be there soon.
There. That should do it.
Satisfied with her work, Amelia backed away, imagined moving upward … Up, up, up … Oh, yes. She’d forgotten the shield.
Pausing just outside Thea’s mind, Amelia threw up a secondary, much stronger block, making sure the layer of protection extended all around, leaving no weak spot to attack. Then …
How could she get back to her body?
Normally, Amelia had a strong link to her own self. A shimmering band connected her consciousness to her body, but now, it just wasn’t there.
The connection must’ve been severed.
She’d delved too deep into Amanthea’s mind.
Close to panicking, Lia automatically fell back onto the old teachings.
Keep calm. Focus. Assess your surroundings. Don’t give yourself away.
Okay. Okay. She could do that. First two things, check. The last one didn’t apply to this situation. As for the rest …
Assess your surroundings. Think. Then make your move.
There were so many minds around. Bright, protected, their complexity staggering. But there was only one brain that was kind of vague. It barely emitted any light … Like an abandoned house … Forlorn … Without the flicker of light in the window.
That was her home. Her body. The mind she needed to return to.
Concentration absolute, Lia homed in on that mind, then arrowed towards it, moving through whatever separated them – time or space or distance – in a blink, then slamming home with a jolt that let her mind aching and her whole body shaking like a leaf.
She had no time for that, though. She had to find out what was going on, then get herself moving.
Amelia was still crouched on the floor, knees hugged to her chest, and head resting against the wall. Darkness was still surrounding her, but the noises intruded … The councilors were leaving, taking Thea with them. But as they moved up the stairs then farther away, Amelia maintained an awareness of their location … Or rather, Amanthea’s.
For whatever reason, what she’d just done had created a sort of connection between them.
Well, that would be helpful. But before she went to get Thea, she needed to find Evana.
Shaking herself, Amelia stood. Her whole body felt as weak as one would after a long, serious illness, and she longed to curl up right where she was, close her eyes and sleep. But she couldn’t. She needed to hurry.
So she pulled on her reserve energy, snuck up the stairs in the now natural darkness and out of the room.
Then she ran.
~ *** ~
“Melia, wait!”
The whisper-shout reached Amelia’s ears from the far end of the empty corridor, stopping her dead in her tracks.
Well, he’d finally come to find her, Amelia thought, whirling around.
Aroan stood in the middle of the hallway, but as she faced him, he hastily made his way over to her, though not without some hesitation, as Amelia noted with grim satisfaction. He’d be even more wary if he knew what she was capable of – what she longed to do. How much she wanted to hurt him. But right then, she couldn’t. Thea had to come before any revenge.
Her friend needed her.
So, Amelia just clenched her hand, waiting impatiently for Aroan to get closer, and as he neared her, she locked eyes with him, her angry golden gaze clashing with the male’s, those blue orbs flashing with tiny flecks of pure white and silver. Aroan opened his mouth, likely intending to take her to task for leaving his room and spying upon the Council, but he seemed to change his mind about dealing with her in public.
Grasping her arm instead, he squeezed lightly in warning and hissed, “Come on!”
The male dragged Amelia down the corridor at such a pace that she could barely keep up, and when they reached his chambers, he all but propelled her inside.
As the door closed behind them, Amelia immediately jerked her arm from Aroan’s grasp and rounded on him before he could utter a single word.
She couldn’t contain herself a moment longer.
Hands clenched and shaking with rage, Amelia forced out, “How could you?”
Their gazes were still locked as Roan’s expression darkened, and his brilliant eyes became hard as marble.
“Be happy it wasn’t you,” he snarled, though his voice was hoarse, as if he’d been the one screaming down in that torture chamber. “Be happy I haven't even made you into a bed slave.”
Yes, you have, Amelia wanted to retort, even if not by any traditional means.
She so wished she could accuse Aroan of seducing her by being nice for a Fae. By being tolerant and even defending her.
By pretending to care.
All lies. Nothing more than pretense.
Though in actual fact, no one was to blame for her involvement – for the nascent but very real, treacherous feelings she’d developed for a monster … She had no one to blame but herself.
Needing to get closer to the male so he’d trust her more and be less vigilant about her actions, hoping that he’d maybe even allow her more freedoms, Amelia hadn’t rebuffed Roan – Aroan. No, if anything, she’d encouraged his advances for her own ends.
And enjoyed it all, a tiny voice she was coming to know all too well piped up in her head, reminding her of some very specific moments in the past months, even though Amelia wanted to shrink from the knowledge that here and there, she’d indeed appreciated Roan’s company.
Reveled in his presence, more like. You’ve relished every opportunity to furtively look at him, and liked his attention, along with the seemingly genuine gestures and the surprising protection he’d extended to you where others of his kind were concerned.
That damned voice again.
Even though she might not like it, Amelia couldn’t deny the voice’s truthfulness – but Aroan had only protected her.
The male didn’t care that dozens of humans slaved at his own plantations, living under dreadful conditions and breaking their backs so his scheming family could amass even more riches. And he’d actively hurt Thea. Let’s not forget about that.
Aroan had cut her friend open himself, without so much as flinching.
He’d been deceiving her. He hadn’t cared, and he’d only protected her for a reason.
Aroan, mighty Fae Lord and now an esteemed member of the depraved Fae Council, was the worst kind of monster.
She’d been so, so stupid.
Still, Amelia had to know why something like that hadn’t been her fate. Why she’d been the one exception – no, why he’d played mind games with her. Thus, containing her hatred, disillusionment and bitterness, Amelia asked instead, “Why haven’t you, Aroan? Why not force me into your bed when it’s clear as day you despise all humans so tremendously?”
She held his gaze as she added, “I know you want me.”
Unexpectedly enough, those words didn’t incense the male further. Quite the contrary – they seemed to calm him down a bit.
Aroan’s gaze softened.
“I don’t hate all humans,” he said, wetting his lips. “I don’t blame the whole of humankind for a select few’s actions.”
That action being the murder of his beloved mother.
“I’d never do something like that to you,” the Fae added, his deep baritone snaking around Amelia, wrapping around her in an attempt to reassure her … Ensnare her.
He sounded so sincere, but after what she’d seen today, Amelia couldn’t be taken in by him anew. She would never allow that to happen again, Amelia silently vowed, hardening herself. Not now that she knew for sure she hadn’t been wrong about this Fae initially, after all.
Aroan was a conniving, lying bastard with a superiority complex who kept slaves, played mind games, and tortured, mutilated and murdered innocents in cold blood.
The fact that he had no idea about her connection to Thea – to Chrystie – was no excuse. Not in the least.
He shouldn’t spare someone for Amelia’s sake.
He should do it because it was the right thing.
Looking her adversary straight in the eye and deliberately using a calm voice, Amelia said, “I don’t believe you.”
Then she turned about and left without asking his leave or waiting for an answer, walking out on Aroan for good.
Chapter Twenty-Three
She’d found Evana in the kitchens.
Locating her friend hadn’t proved as difficult as one might’ve thought in a building as big as this since there weren’t any other Fairykind around. So this time, it were the young elves who’d become the object of attention and wonder in servant and slave circles. Amelia had glimpsed Evana’s face in the mind of a human servant while scanning those people’s surface thoughts she passed by, so she didn’t even need to ask where the girl was. The assortment of pots and pans in the background kind of spoke for itself.
After being presented to the Council, the elfling must’ve been told to go and perform her usual duties.
As soon as Amelia had beckoned to Evana, the girl had come up with an excuse to leave and followed her, hurrying after her without demanding an explanation. And though Amelia knew her friend deserved one, now wasn’t the time. She had to know how Thea was faring. So she wound her way through the hallways of the domestic wing, her connection to the human woman getting stronger the closer they got to her.
Finally, she came to a stop before a slightly ajar door. Small noises and faint murmuring drifted out, along with the smell of pain, sickness and … antiseptics, Amelia thought with a brief smile, since the scent brought back pleasant memories.
So, this had to be the infirmary, which was good since it meant Amanthea was alive and getting the care she needed to heal, but the rustling and muttering also meant that she was being treated right now.
Someone was already in that room with her.
Nonetheless, Amelia had no time to waste. So, signaling Evana to stay out of sight, she readied herself and threw open a door. A young, comparatively finely dressed man was kneeling next to the closed bed,
his face hidden behind a curtain of dark hair since he was looking down, focusing on what he was doing.
Quickly surveying the room and finding it blissfully empty, Amelia winked Evana inside and hurried over to the occupied bed, falling to her knees as well and reaching for the medical supplies without further ado. The man opposite her looked up, startled by her sudden appearance, but Amelia stalled his questions with a decisive shake of her head.
“I’m just here to assist you,” she said, which earned her a frown and a curt nod before the man continued with his task.
Realizing Evana hadn’t moved closer, Amelia searched her out with her eyes and found her standing frozen next to the door, a shell-shocked look on her face. Amelia didn’t know whether she was about to keel over or go into hysterics, but she couldn’t have either, so she called out to her in a calm, steady voice, only going on when the elfling’s eyes locked onto hers.
“Evana. I need your help.”
Appealing to the girl’s innate nature seemed to help. Amelia’s words broke through her daze and she rushed over, but as she picked up a healing ointment her hands were still shaking.
“What happened to her?” Evana asked, her voice so low Amelia wasn’t even sure the man had heard her.
“The councilors are what’s happened her,” she bit out, not quite managing to mask her anger. At the lack of understanding on Evana’s face, she added, “Those damned creatures felt like playing. They tortured her.”
Evana and the stranger both sucked in a breath, frightened by her audacity, but Amelia was done holding back. Or maybe they were just surprised that the councilors were capable of something like this. They still had their blinders on …
“They had us brought in for some fun. We were today’s entertainment ,” the man hissed, his deep voice filled with loathing.
Okay, so he clearly wasn’t surprised by this act. And his words also explained his fine but very revealing clothing.
This man was a courtesan, from one of Cerridwen’s many pleasure houses.
Hidden Revenge Page 17
