She took a deep breath and looked back at him. He was still grinning at her, as though he was enjoying making her blush. It wasn’t mocking, though. Teasing, sure, but it didn’t look cruel to her. She dropped her hands to her knees and leveled her chin.
“What sort of experiments was Turner going to perform on me?”
His smile slipped off his face. It turned into a scowl, and he looked away and shrugged. His chained hands wandered over the cuffs of his orange prison suit, pulling out loose threads. Or rather, picking at the seam until the thread became loose and then pulling it out. That was the only sign that he was nervous. She watched for a moment before leaning forward.
“Answer me.”
“It wasn’t any of my business what experiments they had planned. They wanted to test what changes happen when humans lived among dragons and when a human mates a dragon, to cause their increased longevity. How they were going to do that—”
“It was your business!” Dominique bit her lips to stop herself from screaming at him. Her face flushed again, but it wasn’t embarrassment this time. How could he be so blasé? “You were giving them test subjects. You were giving them me. You look in my eye and call me by my name and then tell me that it didn’t matter to you whether I was tortured for their experiments. You handed me over to them, and you didn’t even look back!”
She expected him to sneer. To tell her that it didn’t matter to him, that she was foolish for thinking that he’d care at all. But he didn’t. Instead, he bent his head and picked more determinedly at the threads in his sleeve.
The silence became too much, and Dominique slammed her palms against the table. Ivarsson jumped, something that gave her a vindictive sense of pleasure. “Answer me already! If you didn’t care, then just say it. Tell me that my life means nothing and that you’d have tortured or killed me yourself if it meant getting your precious money.”
Ivarsson’s hands finally settled. He stared at the thread as if seeing the damage he was doing to his clothing for the first time. Finally, he looked up and shook his head. “I know that you want something, anything, so that you can see the world as a place of light. So that maybe the darkness isn’t as terrifying. But I have no reason to care about you.”
Her stomach twisted.
“I have no reason to care what they would have done to you. I know it’s not what you wanted to hear. And I’ll admit, I do hesitate to say it. Maybe it would be better for me if I pretended to have hesitated to hand you over. Maybe there is part of me that would like to protect you from the unfortunate truth… as if somehow shielding you would make me feel better about myself.” He finally leaned back, and a mocking smile slipped onto his face. “But the truth of the matter is that I wasn’t going to look back. It didn’t matter to me what they were going to do to you because… you don’t matter to me.”
Dominique slumped back against her chair. Disappointment hit her hard and fast, like a physical blow that left tears in her eyes. She brushed them away angrily, trying to hide them from Ivarsson. He averted his gaze, as though ashamed for her.
“How can you be so cold with other people’s lives? Don’t you have any human compassion?”
“I’m not human.”
Dominique snarled. “You know what I mean!”
“Nobody ever cared about me. Why should I care about anybody else?”
Did he really think that was going to cut it? Did he really think that his tragic past gave him license to hurt other people? Did he think he’d get a free pass to forgiveness?
“That is a lousy excuse. Lame,” she emphasized. “In fact, that’s the worst excuse I have ever heard. It’s not about giving out what you’ve received, this is about being selfish. Completely and utterly selfish. You’re nothing more than a self-absorbed, arrogant beast who cares more about your wants than other people’s needs. You chose to become this way. Life may have shaped you, but you’re still the one who chose to do this with that shape.”
She pulled in a sharp breath, trying to steady herself. Her face was hot with anger, her hands clenched as she glared at him
Ivarsson only looked mildly surprised as he stared back at her. Probably thinking that this was a rather large outburst for such a little mouse. The thought only made her angrier. Suddenly, she didn’t want to look at his face. She didn’t want to be sitting here, listening to him say that because other people had hurt him, it meant that he would hurt others without any emotion behind it.
No matter how awful she felt about what he had gone through, that was something she just couldn’t accept.
“You mentioned a deal?” His voice was flat.
Part of her wanted to simply walk out and let him wonder about it. Let Indulf send someone else. She opened her mouth to sarcastically say that the deal was he admitted regret and then he wouldn’t be experimented on, but the words got all jumbled up, and she fell silent again.
When he opened his mouth, to say what, she didn’t care, she interrupted before he could say two words. “The deal is this. The King has decided to give you a chance to lessen your punishment.”
“Well that’s very nice of him, isn’t it?”
Dominique glared at Ivarsson. Maybe this wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t even certain now why she had put in so much effort to help him. Maybe she had gone Stockholm Syndrome after all. Maybe in her efforts and hopes that he wouldn’t hand her over so callously, she had started thinking he had more compassion than he was capable of feeling.
He did so like to twist all the words around him. He did like to play the victim.
“Are you interested or not?”
His lips tightened for a moment before a false smile emerged on his face. “Of course, I’m interested. I’m always interested in making things easier on myself. But before I hear the details of what is expected of me, I need to know… How much easier are we talking about? Scare me first. Tell me the details of what I can expect if I don’t cooperate.”
There was a gleam to his eyes, a mocking to his tone. How many times had he done this, she wondered? Been in her spot, telling a prisoner that he’d make a deal with them… and now she wondered if he expected that, even if he cooperated, Indulf would refuse to honor his part of the deal.
She wasn’t going to follow his script anyway.
“Here’s what Indulf wants you to do.” She clasped her hands on the desk and tried to make her voice emotionless now. “First, we know Turner wasn’t the leader of the people wanting to do the experiments on me. We want the big fish. We want to shut them down entirely. So, you help us get them, and rescue whatever other people they may have kidnapped, then you will have a comfortable life.”
“Comfortable,” Ivarsson repeated, still smiling. “In prison, of course.”
“Of course,” Dominique spat.
“Without the chance of forgiveness?”
That did it. “What have you done to show you deserve forgiveness? What have you done that indicates that you would do anything but start hurting people again to get your way?”
“Right. So I’d be condemned to a life in prison. Would you come to visit me, Miss Dominique? Maybe for a conjugal visit?” He winked. “We can see if it takes mating in the deep emotional connection way or mating in the purely animal way to start changing a human’s physiology.”
Before she knew what she was doing, she surged to her feet and whipped her hand across his face. Instantly, she backed away, horrified at her own actions. In all her life, if there was one thing she had always been proud of, it was that she wasn’t a violent person. No matter what was thrown at her, no matter what she suffered, she did not strike back.
And now here she was… striking the first blow. She backed away, her hands over her mouth and tears filling her eyes.
Ivarsson shook his head and rubbed his cheek. “Guess I deserved that.”
Dominique didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do… so she burst into tears and tore from the room, leaving Ivarsson far behind.
Chapte
r Ten
Ivarsson
Shortly after Dominique had left in tears, the guards came back and none too gently dragged him back to his cell. There, he was left without visitors for two days. The isolation was almost enough to drive him crazy. He was used to being alone, preferring his own company to other people’s in most instances. There was a reason why he’d chosen such a deserted farmhouse, and it wasn’t all merely for practical reasons.
But here, the space was so tiny. True, it was large enough to pace about in, big enough that he didn’t feel like he was suffocating. But it was too small to shift. Too small to run. Too small to really burn off his energy. He had to settle for repetitions like jumping jacks, and they were hardly enough to block the thoughts from his mind. Or the image of Dominique’s face after she had hit him.
So, to block that out, he turned his mind to thoughts of escape. The cell was solid, there would be no breaking out through brute strength. That meant he would have to use his intellect. The deal Indulf had offered him was the prime starting point—if it was still on the table. Assuming it was, then he could pretend to help Indulf. Give them a few small victories before insisting on going along with them to take out the main base.
He knew that they had at least one dragon in their clutches. That should be a tantalizing enough bait to get Indulf to snap it up. And if that wasn’t enough… Well, Dominique seemed determined to see him as something other than what he was. Determined to think of him kindly, to search for compassion and unselfishness in him. He could use that, providing that he hadn’t blown it with his hastiness when she came to offer him the deal.
If he could get through to her, play on her compassion, then he might have a better chance at getting Indulf to agree that he could go with them on the final raid. Or at the very least, a new location where he could slip away without them hardly even noticing it. If worse came to worst, he’d have to fight his way free.
Because a prison, no matter what comforts he was promised, was still a prison. The hardest freedom was preferable over the softest cage.
He walked to the door and beat his fist on it, hoping that a guard could hear—and that they’d respond, rather than just leaving him to rot. He needn’t have worried, though. It wasn’t long before there was an answer, the little slot in front of the grating opening to reveal a guard’s heavily scared face. He must have gone through something horrible to have that sort of permanent damage, rather than healing without a mark left behind.
“What do you want?”
Ivarsson resisted the urge to croon something sarcastic back at him. That wouldn’t help his case at all. “I want to talk to Dominique.”
The guard narrowed his eyes before slamming the grating shut. Ivarsson took that as a big fat no and sighed as he went to sit back on the cot. It was only to be expected. He was surprised that Indulf had sent Dominique with the offer in the first place… although perhaps he hadn’t sent her. Perhaps Dominique had asked to come, so that she could confront her kidnapper and know once and for all what a monster he really was.
The thought made his stomach cramp. He knew it shouldn’t bother him, not really. Just as he had no reason to care about Dominique, he had no reason to care about what she thought.
And yet he did. He couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was all curiosity… yes, that had to be it. He was curious how someone who had gone through a life like hers could still manage to have such an optimistic personality. How she could still search for a spark of compassion in him, even after he had proved again and again that there was no such emotion in his body. He wanted to know what was going through her head. That was it.
Well… there was also the physical attraction. That’s what that was. A desire for her body and a curiosity about her mind. It didn’t mean anything.
The door opened, and he was surprised to see Dominique stride in. She didn’t look as pale as she had last time, but neither did she look very charitable. She folded her arms, glaring at him.
“What?”
Ivarsson attempted to soften his own expression. “I’ve been thinking about the deal that was offered. I regret the way I acted. I… I suppose I have been on my own for so long that I can’t be honest with people anymore… even myself. For so much of my life, showing any sort of weakness was an invitation to be attacked.”
“And?”
“And I’m sorry for how I acted.”
Dominique stared at him for a long moment. There was a kind of brightness in her eyes that made his heart clench. Did she believe him? The tension eased from her shoulders and her arms dropped to her sides. A hesitant smile flashed over her face, and he managed one back. Was it really going to be that easy?
“So… what you’re saying is that you would like to take that deal? Take down Turner’s group?”
“Yes. Even if it’s just for my own comfort,” he added, because she would never believe that he had such a change in attitude out of the goodness of his heart.
She didn’t seem to care about his motives, though. No. Her smile widened, though he could tell she was fighting it, as she nodded. “I’ll tell Indulf then. You can expect us back soon.”
Us?
Before he could ask, Dominique had left again. Her words proved true though. It wasn’t much longer before he was brought out of the cell and taken to another room. This one wasn’t as blank and empty as the previous one had been. There was a low sofa, a coffee table with a few little treats on it, and a couple of armchairs. Was it the guard’s break area? There was a small fridge on one of the counters, along with a hotplate and a microwave.
Indulf and Dominique waited for him. Both had similar hopeful looks, and Ivarsson had no idea how to take those expressions. Were they hoping that he’d spill everything, so they could stick him into a rat-infested pit and leave him there?
Or… or were they genuine? Could it be that they wanted him to tell them the truth… so that they could help him? Give him those comforts…?
No. They were hoping to bring down Turner’s group, nothing more. As Indulf started to list their expectations of him and the rewards for his cooperation, he noted that there were questions in there, too… Asking him what he wanted out of this, asking what sort of things he liked doing… It was almost as though Indulf was wanting to get to know him! Ivarsson didn’t know how to take that. It couldn’t be genuine. Not after he’d told his half-brother that he’d have killed him in a heartbeat…
Still, it was sort of nice. Talking about those things, even if they only made up a part of the conversation. It had been a long time since anybody had asked what he wanted… really wanted…
***
Several weeks went by. The days were monotonous, but he received several visits in a day. It wasn’t always Dominique and Indulf, although they were quite often there as well. He spent hours explaining what he knew about Turner’s group and relaying information that he thought would be useful—but not too useful.
After a month of this, while Indulf made progress in finding small outposts and low-level people within the group, Ivarsson was finally ready to make his final move. He’d told Indulf about the dragons that the Turner group had captive and refused to tell him more than that until he was given what he wanted. And that was a nice getaway to a little cabin out in the woods. It didn’t matter that he was heavily guarded or that there was a metal collar fitted around his neck, to prevent him from shifting unless he wanted to decapitate himself.
The fresh air, the smell of the trees, being away from the city. It was all worth it, even if he didn’t have his plans for escape. He stood at a barred window, hands clasped behind his back as he breathed deeply.
The door opened behind him, and he turned. He’d arranged with Indulf for all this, making it seem like he had gotten away so that the next step of ‘their’ plan would work. And he’d even managed to convince Dominique to come along.
She put a bowl of soup on the nightstand and gestured at it awkwardly. “It’s hot, so you might need to let it cool for a bit.�
�
“Dragons aren’t affected by heat.” He cocked his head. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want those people to be free.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t need to do this. Come here. Make me soup. So why are you doing this?”
She folded her arms, looking to one side as though debating whether she should answer. When she did speak, it was hardly more than a whisper. “It doesn’t mean that I trust you.”
“You’re right not to trust me. Like you yourself have said, I don’t care about anybody but myself. So, I suppose you can trust that but—”
“What happened to your mother?”
What was she asking that for? He actually took a step back before he could stop himself. Then, he shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “I told you. She was murdered.”
“Yes, you did tell me. But… why? You said that your father sent the killer after her. Why did he want her dead? Was it… was it because of the crown? Because he didn’t want anybody to bring you and her back?”
Ivarsson flinched. Yes, of course, she would ask that. He turned back to the window and ran his hand through his hair, his dark eyes searching the forest pressing in on them, as though that would hold the words he didn’t want to speak. His shoulders sagged as he pressed his forehead to the glass pane. Odd that they’d have glass when it could so easily be broken and used as a weapon.
But then again, it wasn’t going to be terribly effective against a dragon, anyway.
“I don’t know if it was my father,” he admitted. “I’ve told myself it was him because he had a reason… because it gave me a face to hate. But the truth is, I don’t know. After he exiled us, my mother had to… In order to keep me fed, keep us sheltered, she sold herself to strangers. She had gotten pregnant. I don’t know if it was my father, keeping an eye on us and angry that she dared to give her body to someone that wasn’t him. Or if it was the father of her new child, not wanting a prostitute to have his baby. Or if it was just someone who wanted to kill.”
The Dragon Villain's Prey: A Paranormal Romance (Separated by Time Book 8) Page 6
