One more moment, that was all Theda needed. She just had to flip the latch and free it. And when that small miracle happened, she just had to squeeze through the small space she'd managed to push open as she gave the door all its weight, pushing Kat out of the way just enough to make room. And when she was halfway through, when she thought she might have a chance of running free, she turned toward the general and bit down on the woman's fingers as hard as she could, sending jolts of pain through her jaw as she met the immoveable hardness of bone.
To her credit, Kat made no sound of pain. But she loosened her grip enough that it gave Cain the space to throw himself backwards, his hands fisting her hair and pulling her even harder against the bars. Knowing the battle could change at any moment, Theda stormed for the other end of the room, her hands flying over the various instruments of torture. Her fingers closed around a wooden handle and she flew back toward the cage, thinking only one thing: ram whatever was on the other end into the woman's neck.
Except Kat had managed to twist herself free. Before Theda made it halfway across the room, the woman had flicked the latch closed again and had picked up the thermos. She struck out with it in a motion so fluid Theda barely realized what was happening until she felt the end of the thermos cracking into her cheek.
She dropped to the floor, wheezing with pain, the ice pick--because that was what her weapon was, she realized--clattered to the floor and skittered toward the cage. Her ribs sent flames licking into her lungs. She couldn't catch her breath. She couldn't crawl away. She couldn't do anything but watch with a sort of fascinated horror as the general unscrewed the top of the thermos and swirled the contents within.
Theda watched as Kat took a very pronounced sniff and stepped close enough to the cage to slosh the entire contents from the thermos on to the man inside.
The stink of gasoline coated her nostrils and clogged her throat.
"I might not be able to kill you," Kat said, "but I can certainly burn that fucken carcass of yours to ash."
Chapter 15
Theda watched, horrified, as Kat threw the empty canister onto the bed and reached for a cattle prod that hung from the wall next to the cage. One snap of the button and there would be enough electricity to spark Cain's clothes.
"Need a light?" Kat teased.
"Don't," Theda shouted at her, thinking how strange it was that it sounded as nothing more than a whimper.
Kat swung around to face her. "Don't what, little mung?" She twirled the prod like a baton. "It's not like he'll die or anything."
Theda couldn't help the sob that escaped her throat. "Why are you doing this? What do you want?"
"Want? What makes you think I want something?"
Theda scrambled through her mind for an answer. There was one, wasn't there? Hadn't Cain mentioned it earlier? Damn her feeble mind. She had to think.
"No answer?"
Theda slapped her palm on the floor in excitement as she remembered. "You brought us here. The Beast doesn't know you even have us--have me. You must want something."
Kat rested the prod on the tip of her boot. "Now that you mention it –"
"Anything," Theda gushed, relieved. "If I can do it, I will."
She looked past Kat's shoulder to where Cain had thrown himself against the bars. "Don't promise her anything, Theda," he said.
Kat turned to face him. "You're in no position to argue."
"I'll kill you," he ground out.
Kat chuckled. "Pretty hollow words for a man in a cage."
Theda stepped toward her, palms out, easing her way forward. Every movement hurt, but she couldn't imagine how badly she would hurt if she watched this man burn alive in front of her.
"There's something," she said to the general. "Something you want from me. There has to be."
"Aren't you the smart one." Kat extended the cattle prod toward Theda, keeping her at a distance. "I do want something. I want you to watch him burn." Her teeth flashed in an evil grin. "That's all."
"You're heinous."
The woman shrugged. "Issat the best you got?"
There was a swift movement that came to Theda's terrified eyes as no more than a blur before she could register that the general had moved at all. Then she felt her feet leaving the floor as though she had been magically been given the ability to levitate. In moments, her nerves registered that she was caught in Kat's grip, lifted as if she were no heavier than a doll. She struggled for air as the fingers squeezed on her throat, mashing her voice box against the back of her neck. She clawed at Kat, scrabbling for her eyes. The woman avoided her fingers so deftly Theda knew that the only movements she was making were those in slow motion as the oxygen fled her limbs.
"What makes you think I need anything from you, you stupid little mung."
Besides the pain of her ribs wracking themselves together, besides the feel of her teeth biting down on her tongue, Theda also registered Kat's movement, of the jerking of her knee upwards, ramming it into Theda's groin. She could swear she heard the pubic bone crack and all but passed out. Blackness crept in from the edges, tunneling her vision down into a pinprick that showed only those glacial green eyes boring into her. Just when Theda thought she would faint, she felt herself being heaved to the side.
Her bottom hit the hard floor and she skidded three feet toward the cage. She wheezed in air, gripping at her throat, coughing. She thought as she hung her head, that she caught sight of two droplets of blood on the floor in front of her and only realized when she felt the warmth trickling down her face and pooling in the corner of her mouth, that she must have hit her head. Hit her nose, to be exact. The tears came at the exact moment the pain did, ripping through her skull in a way that made her groan aloud.
"You're nothing," Kat's voice sounded through the haze. "You're nothing but a filthy religion-monger. A disgusting junkie."
The boots clomped closer. Theda didn't have the energy to raise her head to see how close the woman was. She imagined she'd feel the wrath soon enough.
"You say you have a name," the woman went on. "A name implies you are something. You're nothing. You're my play toy for now. That's all. I know a thousand ways to make you suffer without ruining your pretty face. I know a dozen ways to make you beg for mercy. I know at least a half of a dozen ways to make you –"
"Leave her alone," Cain said.
The boots stilled then scraped across the floor as the woman pivoted toward the cage.
"Leave her alone? You think I've forgotten you?"
Theda lifted her head to watch the woman pointing the prod at him. "One spark," Kat said. "And poof, you're gone."
Theda clutched the woman's leg. "Please don't."
Kat shook her leg. "What if I told you I'd let you go. That all you have to do is ask me to set him alight?" The fiery red brows lifted in query. The woman seemed genuinely interested in the answer.
Theda looked at Cain. She imagined his supple flesh catching fire, the hair sizzling, his screams of pain. Kat nudged her toe into the tender spot of Theda's ribs and Theda couldn't help a whimper. Sweat broke out on her brow.
"Tell me, little mung. If I agreed to let you go, would you beg me to prod him?"
Theda shook her head.
"Wrong answer." Kat stepped on Theda's fingers, grinding her heel as she twisted into the floor. Theda let out a shriek.
"Keep that up and you'll have an audience soon," Kat said. "There's a lot of sick people in the den. Give a dozen psychos their jollies for free."
Theda was heaving by now, her chest shuddering and her lip quivering so fiercely that she could hear her teeth clack together. She hurt so bad. She wanted it to stop.
"Go on," Kat said. "Beg me to stop. I will."
Kat squatted in front of her, putting her fingers on Theda's chin and lifting her to face those calculating eyes.
"You want to," Kat said. "I can see it in your face that you want me to stop. That you'll give anything, even his life, so that I'll stop."
It was tru
e. How could she deny it? Her every tissue burned. The rush of adrenaline, of fear-soaked chemicals begged her to ask for it. The terror of self-preservation stuttered through her like a metronome ticking off precious moments. She heard such a ferocious banging coming from the cage that she knew Cain believed it too. She thought she heard him shouting at her, cursing at Kat, but she was so mesmerized by the steel in the woman's gaze that she couldn't register anything more than her shame for wanting the pain to stop.
Kat gripped Theda's chin between her forefinger and thumb and pinched. "Say it," Kat commanded. "Tell me you want me to start hurting him instead."
Theda tried to shake her head, but Kat forced it up and down in a nod. "I knew it," she squealed. "I knew you would give in. What does that make you, little mung? That doesn't make you any better than me. It makes you a disgusting coward."
Theda felt the general ease away and pat her lightly on the cheek before she stood.
"Oh, little mung," Kat whispered. "You really disgust me. And to think that the poor sop loves you. It's pathetic."
She clomped over to the cage and rattled the cattle prod on the bars. Theda could hear Cain inside, rushing toward them, slamming his body against the bars. She lifted her gaze to him, and was astounded to see the look of pure rage on his face, fury enough to make a person cringe. It had no effect on Kat or she simply ignored it. No doubt the latter; the woman had too much ego to believe anyone could harm her.
"Look at him; he would die for you, and all you can think about is sacrificing him to save your worthless hide. Issat how shitty you are?"
"No," Theda crumpled onto the floor, laying her cheek down on the cold tiles. "No, it's not true." She wished the words didn't come out in such a whimper; they lost all authenticity that way.
"I swear to God," Cain growled. "I will tear your limbs from your body and grind them into meat and make you feed them to the dogs."
"What?" Kat said. "You don't love her enough to sacrifice yourself either? I can let her go. Let her walk free."
Theda's eyes landed on the ice pick, close, ever so close. If she could just walk her fingers toward it will, grip the edge of it –
Pain splayed her fingers onto the tiles as Kat's boot came down full on her hand again, then drove into her temple and back onto her hand again.
"Bad," she said. "Very bad." She dragged her boot off Theda's hand, scraping as she went until the sole met the steel of the ice pick. She pressed it against the floor.
Theda swallowed spastically. She didn't dare move one muscle.
"I'll tell you what," Kat's tone shifted into something halfway placating and it made Theda jerk her head up in cautious surprise.
"How about I give you an alternative?"
Theda stammered out her response. "An alternative?"
Kat nodded indulgently. "You tell me what will happen to me, and I won't stab you in the throat with this ice pick."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you're a psychic. Tell me what's going to happen to me."
"What's going to happen..."
"Yes, you stupid idiot. When this is all done. What's going to happen to me?" The woman sucked at the back of her teeth, indicating just how stupid she thought Theda was.
And she must be stupid. Because what the woman was asking didn't make any sense. Even as she scrabbled about for some rationalization, Kat grew impatient.
"I'm about to withdraw the offer."
"I can't... I don't..."
Theda couldn't get much more out; Kat swooped down and grabbed her by the hair, lifting her to her feet and slamming her against the cage. "You saw Henrik and me. You're the psychic. You're his psychic." The woman's face was so close to Theda's that she could see each clogged pore, each line around her eyes. She could feel the vibration in the air of the growl deep in the woman's throat.
"Tell me what you see for me. Dammit. Tell me what's going to happen."
"It doesn't work that way," Theda protested, vaguely aware that Cain had crept closer, thinking that perhaps he'd grab Kat by the hair again and that in spasm or surprise, Kat's fingers would pull a handful free of Theda's scalp. She cringed, just thinking how much it would hurt on her already tender skin. "It's the blood –"
Kat let go a guttural sound and her hands left Theda's hair as she bit down on her own fingers, tearing like an animal into the flesh. Before Theda had a chance to wince away, she felt Kat's relentless finger shoved into her mouth.
A gag worked Theda's throat as she remembered that Kat suffered from the dreaded HIV virus, that the blood was streaming from her finger and pooling beneath her tongue. And then the taste of copper came, and the feeling of losing her legs beneath her--of free falling--swept over her.
And then she thudded to the ground in an unfamiliar room, the darkness more of a shadow than a lack of illumination. She thought she could make out a ragged bassinet-type thing in the middle of it. Specters of light roamed the walls, inviting her closer.
A sound pierced her eardrums as she grounded. The noise. It was unrelenting. It was panic-inducing.
When she thought she was lifting her hands to cover her ears, hoping to shut out the horrific screaming, she was shocked to see them reach out toward the noise.
Surprised to realize they wanted to lift and cuddle the thing emitting the sound. To coo it quiet.
Even more surprised to realize the lungs emitting the wails belonged to Kat.
Chapter 16
She was a squalling, red little thing. Even separated from her because she had so little sentience at two days old, Theda knew this infant Kat was in pain. The tiny arms and legs flailed at the air as she lay in the makeshift bassinet, kicking against the hurt, trying to draw in the one thing that would make her feel better. Theda knew at the moment gaunt arms reached into the crib to pinch the tiny, hollowed-in belly, trying to shock it quiet, that the need for drugs was the cause of the agony. Those arms reaching in for the infant were needle-tracked, and whatever muscles lay beneath the skin had gone soft and wasting. Poor thing, was the only thought that came to Theda's mind. Poor little thing.
Another piercing scream tore at the filthy room, infuriating a hard-looking man who stood behind the mother with a brow so furrowed it looked like a fault line. Theda expected the ground to shake any minute. And it did when he stormed the short distance to beat curled fists against the mother's shoulders.
"Make it shut up," he said. "Make the God damned thing shut up."
"I can't. She's jonesing. You know that."
"Fuck," he said, raking tobacco-stained fingers though greasy hair. "We should have dumped it. She's not worth the bother."
"Shoot me up," the mother said lifting the shrieking baby--who by now had lost her breath and had turned a shocking purple color--into her arms. "Maybe that'll help."
The woman was already baring a sagging breast, collapsing into an overstuffed chair that was filthy and stinking of garbage--something she'd obviously hauled from a dumpster for just this purpose. She laid the squalling babe on her breast, trying to force it to latch onto a cracked and bleeding nipple.
"Hurry up," she said to the man behind her. "I can't stand it anymore."
She extended an arm, with the crook of the elbow facing up, waiting for him to tie a frayed leather belt around the foot of her bicep. She felt the pressure of damming the circulation, waited with pins and needles dancing across her skin for the slackening of the leather. Seconds more and the relief would come. She matched the sound of the baby's screaming when the needle seared into her skin, seeking a space between the peppering of freckles.
"Fuck," he growled. "I can't get a good vein; you've wasted 'em all." He yanked the belt off her arm. "Tilt your head."
The woman obliged. "Behind the ear," she said. She blew into the baby's face, hoping the thing would breathe. She could see the uvula at the back of the baby's throat so clearly the vibration of its wailing nearly mesmerized her.
"I don't know why you don't just let that thing die," he sai
d.
"Because she's a miracle," the woman whispered. "Aren't you, Katalina?" She tried pressing against her breasts, milking out a dribble of liquid so the baby would smell it and latch on. When that failed, she smeared the liquid onto the child's lips, waiting, hoping that it would suckle finally. She'd shot up just two hours earlier, surely there would be enough left in her bloodstream to satisfy the baby's craving and if she could just get another hit into her and get the baby latched on, maybe they'd have a few hours' peace.
A flood of hot relief coursed through Theda's psyche, and she knew the man had managed to find a vein after all, that the baby had latched on. That the infant had filled her belly enough with the drug she'd been born addicted to, that it was coursing through her bloodstream to uncramp her muscles.
Theda felt the yearning in her own tissues as her mouth filled with water. She had to close her eyes for a heartbeat just to remind herself she didn't need to fix anymore. She pulled in several drafts of air before she dared open them again. The babe had relaxed so visibly, she was a near echo of the mother, arms splayed in submission to the drug that coursed through their viscous highways.
Theda was all-too-familiar with the sense of surrender. She was all-too-familiar, as well, with squalor. She fully understood that these people had a cursory emotion for their daughter at best. She came second to their fix. She came third to the need to abuse that brought the addiction to the forefront in the first place. If that girl was a racehorse, those owners would put her down and out of her misery.
Realizing just how destitute the infant's situation was, Theda thought she saw the shadows on the wall shift in macabre ways as though someone else was in the room watching them. A shiver of prescience shook her to the core and she had to swallow down the nausea that accompanied it, force herself to turn away. She didn't want to witness this anymore. She wanted out.
But even as she escaped one scene, the grunginess of the walls disappeared and instead she stood in a sunlit park, watching the same man yell at a three-year-old who had fallen off a slide. The ginger-haired child sat flat on her bottom, her legs splayed in front of her all muddy and scuffed up at the knees. Her hair tangled itself into so many knots a louse would never find its way to a root.
Theta Waves Box Set: The Complete Trilogy (Books 1-3) (Theta Waves Trilogy) Page 47
