His mother wasn’t stopping. She wanted more. He didn’t know what it was, but she wanted more than he was giving. And now this nightmare was getting worse.
At night, when they shoved him back into his cell, he’d cough up blood. His temples always throbbed.
He was dying.
Being ripped apart from the inside out.
“What’s happening to me,” he roared, then bit down on his tongue when a massive seizure gripped him.
He couldn’t remember much after that. Just the banging of his skull on the concrete and his mother’s dogmatic words pumping like poison through the empty chamber. “You’re becoming what I need you to be, Abel. Becoming what you should have always been. Mommy’s here. Just accept this, sweetie. Don’t fight it. It’s almost over now. Almost over...”
Always she said the same thing, and all he could do was shudder, curl in on himself, and try not to cry too loud as he waited until the next fit hit.
~*~
Janet
Janet jerked, kicking off the sheets covering her legs, grunting and writhing as fire gripped her soul.
As a shadow demon, she controlled the element of fire, but this fire was different, this fire was not her own.
Visions whirled in her mind’s eye.
Abel strapped down to a bed. Cattle prods being shoved into him, Layla’s voice an eerie, almost robotic-sounding thing blaring instructions through the loudspeaker.
“This is who you are, my son. This is who you really are. You will win. You will fight. You will be our greatest asset.”
Abel groaning. Twisting and turning as tears streaked down his face, fighting desperately to not pass out from the pain as test after test was performed.
Night after night, Janet saw all these things. In her mind’s eye, she screamed at him to wake up. Screamed at him not to sink into the brainwashing, to know that he still had friends, still had people looking for him. Coming for him.
But he never heard her.
The bond between them had grown so strong now that Janet was beginning to smell the metallic waft of blood oozing from his open sores.
The sharp tang of rubbing alcohol offended her nostrils as, after each session, they’d douse him in bucketfuls of the stuff, ensuring he’d not suffer infection at their hands.
At first, the pain had been so intense that all Janet could do was scream as it consumed him and then her.
She inhaled heavily, her sweat-soaked body convulsing upon the bed as hands she couldn’t recognize pushed her down onto the bed.
Adam had sent nurses to take care of her. She was dying.
She sensed the weakness of her dimmed spirit skating through her bones like a toxin. If she was dying, it meant Abel was too.
“Abel,” she moaned, reaching out to him. Knowing the physical distance between them was so great no amount of will could ever make it less. But in her head he was there.
As the minutes sped by, turning into hours and then days, she began to fight for control of her senses.
Remembering that she was not actually in a darkened cell bound by her wrists and ankles to a metal gurney but that she was in her trailer, at the carnival, and that if she could control the fear and pain stemming from the daily tortures, she might actually be able to turn this nightmare into a tool of discovery.
But then someone was tying a rope around his neck—their neck—and she couldn’t breathe. She clawed at her throat, gasping and scrabbling as the invisible bands tightened more and more.
“Calm down, Janet. Janet, calm down!”
A voice she didn’t recognize screamed at her, hands were shoving hard against her shoulders, pinning her to the mattress.
No panicking, some still-sane corner of her mind reminded her. You can breathe. You can breathe, Janet, so do it!
She sucked in a breath, and suddenly the spots dancing in her vision disappeared. She was still in Abel’s head, still seeing what he was seeing, but now she was no longer fighting the torment. She kept reminding herself that she was okay, she was okay. And if she was okay, then he would be too.
Shaking, hurting everywhere, she forced herself to focus. To look beyond the pain. And for the first time she saw more than just the darkness or the hands that hurt.
There were several man-sized shadows in the room, two of them standing at the foot of Abel’s bed. Another two, one on either side of him, held down his arms. And at his head, a figure dressed in a black cowl with a set of defibrillator paddles in his hands.
The hands weren’t covered. They were long, smooth, and white. On the index finger was a tattoo of a faded, lime-green shamrock.
And for the first time since the attack that’d taken Abel from her, Janet smiled. Though every inch of her screamed in pain, she now knew she could save actually save him.
But the moment was cut short as the hooded figure lowered the paddles to Abel’s chest and a flash of fire licked at her heart.
She cried out with a voice grown raw; lost once more to the madness of that pain.
~*~
Adam
The carnival medic—a pride Nephilim named Maddox, scrambled to revive Janet, whose heart had suddenly flatlined.
Adam spent whatever free time he had at Janet’s beside, hoping against all hope that she’d survive these torments. Everything this kanlungan felt, his son did too.
Every trial, every bit of the suffering was not only hers but Abel’s. He knew his wife. Knew the way her devious, brilliant mind worked.
Adam had fallen in love with Layla the moment she opened her mouth. She hadn’t been simply smart, but a genius. Having been together now nearly three decades, he knew exactly what she was doing and why she was doing it.
She was torturing Abel to bring his beast out. It was clinical, methodical, and all of it calculated.
Abel had been mere weeks from a natural turn. But she was bumping up the timetable. The methodology she used wasn’t in and of itself a cruelty, though he hated every inch of her for it. Pain and the beast were viscerally two sides of the same coin.
To a twenty-first century human, the idea that none of this was cruel would seem barbarous. And even though Layla had been technically born a human, by nature her spirit had always been more akin to his kind. Pain, death, torture, they were simply a part of everyday life for those like him. His world was cruel at its kindest, and sadistic at its worst.
But what she’d not understood because she’d not been there during Cain’s transformation was that ultimately the decision to turn had to be a berserker’s choice. It was the ultimate in evolution—survival of the fittest.
Most Nephilim and human offspring never lived past their teen years; the pain of the transformation was too great a burden to bear. The weakest stopped fighting to hang on and simply chose death.
Adam feared that the added stress of what Layla was doing now might actually have the opposite effect on Abel. Both his sons were made of strong stock—he’d felt deeply that both would ultimately survive their transformation from human to monster.
Maddox continued to perform chest compressions on Janet’s now lifeless body. Pride demons never knew when to quit at anything, and unless Adam gave him the order to stop, he wouldn’t.
Clenching his fist so tight his knuckles popped, Adam grunted, “Take off her bracelet.”
Maddox turned bright golden eyes on him. “She could fade into the ether if we allow her to turn back to shadow now.”
Adam’s nostrils flared as violence raged deep in his bones. “It’s also the best chance she has at healing. Her life is tied to my son’s. Maybe there’s a chance that if we can bring her back, it’ll give Abel some sort of strength.”
“Yeah, but Abel’s isn’t tied to hers. He’s not pair bonded to her. This is a one-way bond, Adam. Saving her won’t save him.”
“You don’t know that!” he thundered. “There is much we do not know surrounding the familial bonds of her kind. Do as I say. Now!”
Suddenly Janet began to convulse,
her lips turning blue and white spittle foaming from the corners of her lips.
Maddox ripped the cuff—a metal object of power that helped a kanlungan to attain corporeality, as their natural state was only that of shadow—off her wrist. Immediately her form shifted, swirled with deepest threads of inky black until all that remained of her was a thick blanket of smoke.
“Rhiannon!” Adam screamed, crying out to the only other kanlungan in the circus.
In an instant her smoky form slipped under the doorway. Rhi must have been hovering close by. She was nothing but a swirling shadow of darkness that matched the one lying upon the bed.
“Save her,” Adam ordered.
A second later, Maddox was shoved off the corner of the bed, and Rhiannon’s smoke was covering Janet’s. The blackness of their entwined forms permeated every inch of the trailer, making it hard to see even an inch in front of his face.
Adam held very still, hardly daring to breathe as the whipping intensity of that dark power swirled like a tidal wave around them.
There was a spark of deepest blue, and then... all was quiet.
Still.
When the darkness lifted, it was to see Janet back in flesh form. Her skin was the rich coppery hue Adam had grown used to. She looked haggard and worn-out when she blinked open her eyes.
“Adam,” she croaked in a voice grown thick with pain.
He rushed to her side, grabbing hold of her hand. “I’m here, little one.”
Her eyelids drooped, as though weighted down by millstones. “Safe.” She shook her head but didn’t have the strength to do much more than that.
Still, he understood her meaning.
Abel was safe.
For now.
Layla had come too damn close this time.
He swallowed hard. “Rest now, Ja. Just rest and regain your strength.”
She was fast asleep only seconds later. Rhiannon plopped down beside him on the bed, her head hanging heavy in her hands.
There was deep purple bruising beneath her eyes and her skin, already so pale, was now almost tinted blue.
Adam closed his eyes, realizing just how close they’d come this time.
“Adam,” she said, and when he glanced at her, he saw a visible shudder roll down her spine.
He’d been so angry with Rhiannon when it’d first been discovered that Abel was missing. But in reality, he’d been angry with himself for not seeing the truth sooner.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s night. You should sleep.”
She bit the bottom of her lip tightly. His heart clenched. In all the mess of Layla’s betrayal, he’d lost sight of what it meant to be a good leader.
“As to my part in all this”—his voice rolled wearily—“I am sorry for hurting you, Rhiannon.”
The kanlungan nodded swiftly, then swiped at her tears, which shimmered wetly. “Can I take the car out for a drive later?” she asked. “I just need to get away from the circus for a while.”
“Yes,” he said, “but not too far. If something happens to Janet again, we’ll—”
“Don’t worry.” She placed a gentle hand atop the one he had on his knee. “She’s my first priority.”
He nodded. “How’s Flint?”
After checking Janet’s vitals one final time, Maddox got to his feet, his shoulders tight with weariness. “I’ll see you both later. Call me if you need anything else.”
Then he traced from the room, leaving only a scent of sulfur behind.
Rhiannon waited to speak until it was obvious Maddox was long gone. Her gaze was penetrating and knowing. “Flint’s not good. And call me crazy, but I’m not buying what you’re selling, Adam. She’s not hive.”
He lifted a brow but said nothing.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to tell us. In fact, I understand why you guys are hiding secrets now. But tell me this—is there anyone else I need to keep an eye on amongst our ranks?”
Narrowing his eyes, he debated just what he should say. He wasn’t even sure himself, but there were a few someones he was carefully monitoring now.
Thinning his lips, he said, “The humans. Ever since Flint’s return, I’ve sensed a sort of disquiet. Especially with Katy and Frank.”
She frowned. “Her dad? What do you mean?”
Adam had his suspicions about what might be happening, and if that were the case, they’d be disbanding the circus even sooner than expected.
“Just keep an eye on them, but especially Frank. Report back to me about any anomalous activity you witness.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. “Anything I should warn Flint about?”
“No.” He wiped his palms down his jeans, feeling as though he’d aged a thousand years in the days since Layla’s betrayal. “As I said, observe for now.”
She nodded, then glanced one final time at Janet before muttering, “You think they’re gonna survive this?”
He shrugged but said, “God, I hope so.”
Chapter 9
Cain
Leaning against his Corvette, Cain waited impatiently for Rhiannon and Flint to arrive.
Seth dropped a hand to his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, man.”
“You don’t know that,” he snarled. “I can barely stand to be around her without feeling this...”
Words failed him. All he could do was squeeze his fist until his knuckles popped and fury began to rise. His anger was always so close to the surface now.
He was volatile and moody, and most of it stemmed not from Abel’s absence—which filled him with intense guilt—but Flint’s near death, and not because he didn’t care deeply for his brother.
What he felt was instinctual on every level and not something he could control.
When Flint had woken up from her coma, not even the threat of the Order’s retribution could have stopped him from seeing her. For one brief second, he’d seen her smile and everything had been perfect. He hadn’t cared about the sleepless nights or the countless bouts of rage he’d suffered.
Even Adam had had to step in a time or two, beating Cain to within an inch of his miserable life to get his demon under control. If she’d died, he never would have forgiven himself. A rager without his compass was a dangerous thing.
He’d fought like hell to prevent it. Kept setting her aside, putting her at a distance, hoping against hope that somehow he could stop the inevitable. All ragers had a compass. For Seth and Eli, it was each other.
She wasn’t supposed to be his. Not only was it complicated to bond to a person, it was doubly so when they were a human.
But then she’d been bitten by a royal guard, and the possibility of more had shone like a beacon inside his dark heart, and he’d done what he’d sworn not to do. He’d let down his guard, and she’d become everything to him.
He’d planned to train her to develop her knife skills so that she wasn’t just another helpless mortal in a land full of monsters. Then the night of the prom had come along, and all his plans had crumbled to dust. Flint had vanished. Literally disappeared. He’d thought her lost forever. Until she suddenly wasn’t.
And the relief had been overwhelming. He’d gone to her. Desperate to finally see her. To get her out of his system just long enough that he could give the search for his brother his undivided attention.
He’d seen the wild mane of red hair, and there’d been nothing else.
Until he’d scented her.
The queen had done something to her.
Consciously he recognized she wasn’t his enemy, that she was still his Flint, but instinctually everything inside him told him to kill. Just being around Flint triggered his monster. She was his compass, but now she was also his ruin.
“Then why are you here?” Eli words snapped him out of his dark thoughts. “If you don’t think you can handle being around her, then we need to go now.”
Staring up at the starlit sky, Cain shook his head. “I have to be around her.” He said it s
lowly, side-eyeing the twins before quickly glancing back at the navy canvas.
Crossing his arms, Seth blew out a heavy breath. “Your compass.”
“Yeah.” He finally admitted what they’d probably known for months. “She is.”
“That sucks hard, man.” Eli shook his head. “But I feel ya.” Eli’s jaw popped from side to side. “If anything ever happened to Seth, I’d probably murder the whole world.”
The more computer-nerdy of the two twins, Eli had been acting more broody than usual lately. Berserkers by nature weren’t a generally trusting lot and rarely shared their feelings with just anyone.
“Look.” Seth moved forward and said, “If we see you stepping out of line, we’ll stop it, okay. You can trust us.”
“You handled the separation at the tent today though...” Eli nodded.
“Just barely. The breeze was strong, and even so, I had to bail after a while. Why did the queen do this to her?” he ground out.
“She’s your mom, man, can’t you figure it out?” Seth asked.
Snarling, he shoved away from the side of his car and stalked toward the base of a large tree. “Not anymore she’s not. Not after everything she’s done.”
The twins jogged to catch up to him, taking either side as they moved in step with him.
“You think you can kill her?” Eli asked softly.
Cain curled his fist as fury moved like toxin through his bones. He couldn’t lose his head. Not now. Not with Flint coming to meet him in a little bit.
He needed to be calm for her arrival or he’d never make it through this.
Breathing deeply through his nose, he calmed the noise in his head just enough so that he could speak. “I don’t know, man. I...”
Just then he saw an image of himself tearing into Layla the way he had with her minions, and it was a blow to his heart. Made his head spin and his throat tighten.
She wasn’t just any monster.
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