Sharing Hell (Hell Virus Book 3)

by Aurelia Skye

  Instead, they dragged me easily to a room large enough to accommodate the three of us. It had a king-sized bed, which made me think of my two queens pushed together with my real husbands. We hadn’t had any sort of formal ceremony, but in my heart, the four man I loved met that criteria. These two certainly didn’t.

  They dropped me on the bed, a little less carefully than I would have expected from two loving grooms, but I didn’t expect these men to be loving. I was simply a reward for their loyalty to the generals.

  I waited for them to claim their prize, determined to fight as much as I could. I was surprised when they both moved to the door. I stared at them in confusion, wondering if this was another game, or if I was to be interrogated again before they were allowed to claim me.

  “Rest tonight, wife,” said Gates, who was the dark-haired, older one. I had learned that during my wedding.

  “We’ll consecrate our union tomorrow,” added Fowler. There was a disturbing gleam of excitement in his eyes that told me he was looking forward to that more than he should—unless he enjoyed rape. Because that’s what it would be if these two tried to have sex with me. I’d fight until I couldn’t fight anymore.

  I took advantage of the small reprieve, curling on the bed and trying to seek solace in sleep. On one hand, I was afraid to sleep in case they came back and changed their minds, but on the other, I was exhausted and bone-weary. I’d never be able to think straight or escape if I didn’t get some rest to recuperate.

  After a few minutes, when I couldn’t immediately fall asleep, I got up and started rifling through their belongings. I didn’t find much, but there was a knife in the kitchen. It was shoved at the back of a drawer, and it seemed like they had overlooked it. I didn’t see a knife block or even a single butter knife, so I figured they had locked those up somewhere before bringing home their loving bride.

  I took the blade back with me to the bed, finding a way to wedge it between the top of the mattress and the headboard, where I could still reach it, but it wasn’t immediately visible, especially after I put my pillow in position. This time when I tried to sleep, I was far more successful and drifted off almost immediately.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I lucked out and got to spend the day alone in the room. I assumed they were giving me time to recover, which boded ill for the night ahead, but I was determined to fight them with everything I had. With that thought in mind, I rested as much as possible and ate small, frequent meals filled with protein after liberally raiding their refrigerator. The hours seemed to tick by with incredible slowness, yet rushed by too quickly.

  All too soon, the door unlocked and opened, revealing Fowler and Gates as they stepped through. I’d been sitting on the bed, but scrambled up quickly, not wanting to keep myself so vulnerable by being in that position. I backed warily away from them until my back hit the wall as they removed light body armor and weapons, hanging them on hooks by the door. My gaze darted to where their gun belts hung, and Fowler laughed.

  “You’d never make it, wife.”

  He was probably right, but I still considered it for a moment before discarding the idea. They would intercept me before I reached them.

  Gates stepped forward, walking toward me with a stern expression. “We’ve given you a day of rest, and we’ll give you a little time to adjust, but you need to remember your place.”

  My eyes widened. “Just what is my place here?” I hoped my scathing tone made it clear I had no interest in establishing a place with these people.

  “You’re our wife now, and it’s your job to be subservient. When we come home, you should be happy and eager to greet us, and dinner should be waiting.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What, no beer and a blowjob when you first step through the door?”

  He slapped me with the full force of his open palm, making my head spin. “Behave like a lady and speak like one.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, fellas,” I said in a voice markedly lacking in remorse, “But I’m not a lady and never have been. At least not by your narrow definition.”

  Fowler moved closer to me, and I was starting to feel pinned in as he hovered nearby at Gates’s side.

  “We’ll have to teach you how to be ladylike then.”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks.”

  Fowler grimaced. “Open defiance, brother. How do we deal with this?”

  Gates sighed. “We have to break the spirit to save the soul.”

  Their words were ominous, and I was certain I knew what was coming. Mouthing off to them probably wasn’t helping my situation, but I couldn’t sit by and listen to the drivel pouring from their mouths without automatically retorting.

  As one, they moved closer to me, and I darted to the right before they could pin me in together against the wall. I startled them when I went straight for the bed, my fingers scrabbling for the knife I’d hidden near the headboard seconds before the bed dipped under their weight.

  Gates was the one who landed on top of me, pinning me to the mattress. A small sob of frustration escaped me, and I was certain I wouldn’t find the knife in time as he started to flip me. Thankfully, the switch in position moved my hand closer to where I’d hidden the blade, and I grasped the handle. His hands moved downward, and he appeared to be savoring my curves. I glared up at him as I tried to wiggle away, struggling to hold onto the knife so I could pull it out at the right moment. I glared at him. “Get your hands off me.”

  He ignored my request. “It’s going to be a shame to mar such pretty skin, but the sooner you learn your place, the less frequently you’ll need discipline.”

  “We should institute a maintenance night even when she’s compliant, to ensure she stays that way.”

  I moved my gaze to Fowler when he spoke, shuddering at the blaze of desire I saw there. I wasn’t entirely certain what a maintenance night was, but I inferred it involved beating me on a regular basis to keep me in line. It was obvious the thought excited him.

  Gates shook his head. “We’ll only do that if we need too, brother. Our job is to cherish and protect her as long as she’s doing her job.”

  Fowler was visibly disappointed at the denial of his right to beat me. “It works for the generals’ wife.”

  I was surprised by the disapproval I saw flash across Gates’s expression. “Once your wife is taken in hand, you don’t need to continue disciplining her if you’ve done your job properly.”

  Both their attitudes toward women and regarding wives as property were disturbing, but at least Gates seemed to have a touch of compassion. Not that it endeared me to him at all or vice versa. My hand was wrapped solidly around the hilt of the knife now, and I was just waiting for the right moment to bring it out. I’d only have one or two chances to use it, so I had to make it good.

  With what looked like a sigh of regret, based on his expression, Gates started to roll me onto my side. “I’ll go easy on you tonight, especially since you’ve been injured.” As he spoke, he lightly patted the bandage on my hip, which made me hiss through my teeth at the pain. “I’m hoping you’re a fast learner, and we can put this unpleasantness behind us.”

  I brought out my arm as his hands moving me over provided natural momentum, and neither one of them realized I had the knife until I had slashed through Gates’s flesh. I didn’t know where I’d gotten him, but it was certainly enough to make him cry out and stumbled backward. Something on his face bled, though I couldn’t see what. I could just tell by the way his hand was clamped over that side of his face, and blood flowed freely between his fingers. The sight inspired a touch of nausea, though I’d seen blood from a variety of injuries over years.

  As Gates stumbled away, Fowler moved faster than I expected, his body settling heavily on mine. He grabbed hold of one of my wrists, and I knew if he got the one that had the knife in it, it was over for me. Somehow, I flailed and kept my arm free as he pressed me into the bed. His hand moved from holding the one that was empty of a weapon to my throat, and he started c
ompressing my airway.

  I gasped and choked, still clinging to the knife. He was squeezing hard, and it abruptly cut off my flow of oxygen. The world started to go dim in just seconds, but I clung to the knife and brought it back. There was no time for an elegant slicing motion. All I could do was stab viciously with the blade, slamming it into his eye. He screamed and jerked back, and I was still holding the handle in a death grip, which caused the knife to pop free. I quickly looked away from the gaping hole in his eye socket, continuing to battle the surge of nausea.

  Both their radios crackled to life, but neither was in any condition to answer. As Fowler scrambled away from me, clearly confused, with his hand over his eye, I rolled off the bed and gained my feet. As I ran for the door, I heard someone say words through the radio that made my heart skip a beat with joy.

  “We’re under attack.”

  I was certain it was my people leading the attack, and I rushed to the door, anxious to be reunited with them. I still held the bloody knife in my hand, which I would have discarded if I wasn’t afraid I might still need it.

  At the doorway, I hurled aside the knife and grabbed both of their gun belts, slinging one over my shoulder as I withdrew the handgun from the other and disengaged the safety. I hadn’t used this model before, but it was fairly simple to figure out how to disengage the safety mechanism.

  I was grateful they didn’t have the electronic keycard and door entry system here that we had at the armory. They had basic doors with knob locks, and I was able to have it open in under a second. As I fled through, I turned to look behind me in time to see Fowler collapse face-forward onto the bed. I didn’t know if he was dead or unconscious, but he was clearly rendered helpless.

  I swallowed a lump in my throat when I realize Gates was lumbering after me, and he was moving fast. Apparently, the knife wound to his face was nowhere near lethal. It had probably just made him extremely angry. I still hoped he died from an infection, but that was the only way he’d die tonight.

  Until I remembered the gun in my hand, and the other one slung over my shoulder. I moved out into the hallway, pausing for a moment to orient myself in the chaos. Smoke filled the hallways, and it burned my eyes. It didn’t seem like the smoke produced from burning wood, so I guessed it might be from a chemical source, like a smoke grenade.

  I coughed and cleared my throat as my eyes welled with tears from the smoke. I backed down the wall, waiting for Gates to emerge. I wanted to turn and run away, but had to deal with him. If he caught up with me at a different point, I might not be able to get off a shot, especially if the smoke thickened farther down the hall.

  It was too hard to see him, and I couldn’t seem to find a good shot as he stepped out of the doorway to their room a moment later. His hand was no longer covering his face, and a deep cut curved from the corner of his eye downward across his cheek, into the corner of his mouth. It was an unnerving sight, and that might have been why my hands shook when I lifted the gun to aim at him. I didn’t bother to give a warning, because I knew they would do the same. So far, every time they had fired on any of us, it had been without notice.

  I squeezed the trigger, but didn’t seem to hit him the first few times. Then he let out a sharp cry and reeled back, stumbling. I decided that was enough, and I wanted to get out of there before I lost any visibility. My eyes were watering like crazy now.

  I turned and ran down the hallway, trying to avoid others as I came across them. The smoke and chaos in the halls provided me some cover, and no one challenged me as I moved through the space. At least not until I collided with a firm body. I let out an oomph as my breath whooshed from my body, and I stared up in trepidation.

  A moment later, elation replaced it, and I threw myself into Avi’s arms. Even through the gas mask, he was easy to recognize. I couldn’t kiss him, but I could certainly hug him, and I did. It sent a sharp pain throughout my body that originated from the wound in my hip to do so, but it was worth it. His arms enfolded me, and we stayed like that for a moment as we basked in each other’s presence.

  He stepped away finally, but kept his arm around my waist. “Stay close, and shoot anyone who tries to stop us.”

  After a moment, he released my waist, and I fell into step beside him. He needed both his hands, as did I, but I missed having his touch on me.

  We exchanged fire with two different groups, but most people seemed to have been rendered virtually useless by the gas and posed no threat to us. I ended up grabbing hold of his belt buckle and allowed him to guide me through the smoke, since I couldn’t see, and my throat was raw. When we finally emerged outside a few minutes later, I paused to draw in several deep breaths, choking and gasping each time I exhaled.

  Avi took my hand in his once we were out of the chaos of the interior, gently guiding me across the compound. My eyes were too blurry to make out details, but I thought I saw enough of the structures to indicate we were approaching another of the militia’s buildings. I started to warn him, but as we grew closer, I realized they weren’t buildings. Instead, they were army trucks and Humvees. It was our people.

  He helped me into the back of a truck, and as soon as we were inside, Avi stripped off his gas mask and brought up his radio. “She’s secure. Retreat.”

  Less than a second later, the truck rumbled to life underneath us, and the vibration moved through my chest. It didn’t seem to take more than a few seconds for several people to clamber aboard, and then we were off. I recognized the facility as the one we had invaded to rescue the kidnapped women a few days ago. The arrogant bastards hadn’t even bothered to switch locations in the interim.

  The vehicle jostled underneath us, and I clung to Avi’s hands until another familiar face appeared on my right side. I laid my head against Chris’s shoulder while taking his hand with my free one. They were prodding me to let Jamar check me out, but I shook my head. “Later,” I said in a voice that sounded thick and alien. I was still coughing occasionally, and whatever was in the smoke that had been unleashed in the building had definitely irritated my lungs.

  We were soon rumbling away from the militia’s installation. We seemed to be taking a winding and circuitous route back to our base, but I enjoyed being pressed between Chris and Avi, reassured by their presence there.

  When we arrived back at the armory more than an hour later, due to the complicated route we had taken, Finn was waiting impatiently for me when Chris and Avi gently handed me out of the truck. I went to Finn, wrapping my arms around him and enjoying his embrace. He soothed my back and whispered tender words before pulling away long enough to herd me toward the infirmary.

  It didn’t take long for him to check me over, and he probably could have been quicker about it if he hadn’t paused every few minutes to just run his own hands over my arms, or cup my face and stare into my eyes, as though reassuring himself I was all right.

  Lian burst into the room just before Finn had finished examining me, and he came straight to my side. I didn’t mean to, but I stiffened at his touch, and his expression was a mix of confusion and hurt.

  Almost immediately, I relaxed against him, trying to signal it wasn’t him who had made me react that way. It had simply been the realization that I was going to have to tell him what his father had done that had made me stiffen up. I frantically searched for a way to avoid having to do that, but found no solution. If I didn’t tell them what Liu had done, he would try again and again, until he was successful in getting rid of me.

  He smoothed his hand through my hair before cupping my cheek. “I was so worried about you. My father said you’d been shot, and he was convinced you were dead.”

  “We couldn’t believe that,” said Finn. “We had to know for ourselves, so we mounted a rescue, and Collier approved it despite Liu’s objections.”

  “Let me guess, he complained about the waste of resources and the potential loss of life?” At their simultaneous nods, I exhaled. I was bracing myself to tell them the truth when the door opened again.
Instead, I stiffened and sat upright at Collier’s arrival.

  Collier crossed the room and came to stand in front of me, arms crossed over his chest. “Tell me what happened. How were you captured by the enemy?”

  I shot a hesitant look at Lian. “Can we speak in private please?”

  “No,” said Finn and Lian at the same time.

  Collier shrugged. “If you prefer, but then I’ll just have to tell them anyway.”

  I let out a long sigh, searching for options, but finding none. “Liu shot me deliberately and left me for the militia. He doesn’t like me, and he doesn’t want me involved with Lian. I didn’t stay away when he told me to, so he decided to deal with me himself.”

  I was surprised when Collier and Lian shared a meaningful glance.

  “What?” I asked.

  “We expected it was something like that,” said Lian, his voice full of sadness. “I might have believed that you’d been shot if he hadn’t been overacting it. He pretended like he was concerned about your fate.”

  “But not so concerned as to agree without resistance to the idea that we needed to rescue you if you were still alive,” added Collier.

  A weight lifted off my shoulders, and I was relieved they had figured it out for themselves. “Now what?”

  “You’re going to rest here and recover for a couple of days,” said Finn.

  I nodded, feeling impatient. “Fine, got it, but what are you going to do about Liu? Banishment?”

  “So he can turn to the enemy and offer them information about us? Not at all likely.” Collier scowled as he said the words.

  “We’ve already discussed it, Natalie, and we reached a decision about what we’d do if our suspicions proved correct,” said Lian in a gentle tone.

  The resignation in his eyes didn’t sit well with me. “What are you talking about? What’s the plan?”

  “The firing squad,” said Collier with very little emotion.