Killian

by T. N. Tarrant

  He reached down within himself to find Shiloh. Panicked relief spread through their link. He tried to calm Shiloh’s babble, but Anan struck him with the whip again, this time over his abdomen. Apparently, this hit was not quite as hard, since he didn’t feel blood seep down his skin. Shiloh felt his pain, though, and pleaded for information on where he was. But he didn’t know where he was, he just knew who took him.

  “You know, if you hadn’t acted like such a prude five years ago, we wouldn’t be here right now,” Anan said conversationally. “But no, you didn’t know how to behave, despite what Janet assured my mother and I. You cost me everything, so I’m going to take everything from you.”

  Anan struck his legs hard with the whip again, and then took a dagger and sliced his cheek deeply enough to bleed freely. “Once I’m done teaching you a lesson, I’m going to capture that little slut you married and teach him his place, as well.”

  Killian struggled to concentrate on what Anan was saying and pass the information to Shiloh. He pulled against the chains.

  Anan laughed. “Maybe I should do it before you die. It would be good for him to see what’s going to happen to him.” She struck him with the whip again; this time the leather wrapped around his lower back, the tip digging into his skin right above his flaccid cock.

  Refusing to give her the satisfaction, Killian bit his lip to keep from crying out. He knew she wanted him to break before she killed him, he could feel it even with his limited senses. Her eyes revealed nothing but rage and hatred.

  Anan caressed his cheek, and then ran her hand down his body, cupping his genitals, giving them a squeeze. She laughed at the shudder he couldn’t completely repress.

  “Oh, a new game to play.” She gave him a few strokes, trying to get him hard, frowning when he remained flaccid.

  Did she really expect him to get hard for her? He hadn’t when he was thirteen and untouched, what made her think she could get that result now?

  Screeching, Anan punched him in the stomach before she picked up the whip again. “You’d better do better than that, Killian. You’re my toy now, and you’ll learn your place and how to behave before you die. The longer your lesson takes, the more you suffer.” She struck him several more times with the whip, on his back and his legs, drawing blood again. “You might as well scream, no one will hear you, but it might make you feel better.”

  “How do you know no one will hear?” he managed to ask. If he could get her to tell him where they were, he could tell Shiloh who would undoubtedly tell the Sennrojai.

  “You’re all alone, Killian. Poor thing, your slutty husband not at home—Shiloh’s probably fucking that pretty twink of a housekeeper—your freak siblings are gone, and you don’t even have friends to come visit you.” After one more strike with the whip, Anan began to touch him again, even reaching between his legs to fondle his hole. The caresses were worse than the whip and it was all he could do not to vomit. But if he retched in his current position, he might choke. He struggled against the chains again. “No one will even miss you for a day or two; after all, at this time of month, you’re often doing paperwork just like every other Artris. Plenty of time for me to do what I want.” With her fingernails, Anan scratched his penis, hard enough to make him want to scream at the pain but not draw blood. He fought not to black out. He knew he’d never wake up if he lost consciousness or retreated from reality. Deprived of her “fun,” Anan would just beat him to death and go after Shiloh.

  Which reminded him… Killian warned Shiloh of her plan and felt him wanting to know where to they were.

  Pain seared him again as she struck him several more times with the whip to get his attention and then went back to fondling him.

  Killian struggled to keep his voice steady as he spoke. “I know I was alone in the house but that still doesn’t tell me why you think you won’t get caught.”

  Picking up her dagger again, Anan sliced his other cheek with a smug laugh.

  “How do you know you weren’t seen taking me from the house?”

  “Oh, but that’s the beauty of it. We haven’t left the house.” She struck him again with the whip then pushed the handle between his butt cheeks. “Maybe I should fuck you with this. Could be interesting.” She drew the blade down his back and he could feel blood flowing more freely now.

  Struggling to draw enough breath, Killian pushed for more information. “What do you mean ‘we haven’t left the house’? There’s no place like this in my house.”

  Anan stalked around Killian almost constantly, making it hard to watch her; he assumed her movements were so he wouldn’t know where she’d hit next, or with what.

  Anan punched him in the stomach again. When she went back to fondling him, dragging her nails over his sac, he promised himself a bleach scrub when he got out of this. If he got out of this.

  Distancing himself from Anan’s groping, he told Shiloh Anan claimed they hadn’t left his house. Shiloh told him to hang on as Anan struck him with the whip several times in succession. Then he felt her carve something on the small of his back, just above his ass. He flinched when she caressed his butt possessively; her touch made him feel her insanity, her rage, and worst of all, her lust. “You look good with my name on your ass,” she said before taking the whip to him again. “As for there not being a place like this in your house, I assure you there is—your mother’s old playroom. She used to invite my mother and I to play with her toys in here. How did you think these chains and hooks got here all nice and convenient?”

  “You lie,” he said to provoke the woman. Her reaction would probably be painful, but it might tell him something too.

  He was right about her response being painful. She scratched his penis again, this time bringing blood to the surface. She watched him greedily as he fought not to scream.

  “I told you, you might as well scream. No one will hear you and the more you please me, the better off you’ll be.” Anan’s backhand landed across his cheekbone and eyes, driving his head back. “As for this room, your mother converted it from a cell in the dungeon. If someone was home, they might hear your screams faintly, but you’re all alone.”

  Anan slashed his chest with her dagger as he told Shiloh what she’d said. Killian clung to his husband’s promises of immediate rescue as Anan continued to pour her insanity into her blows. Between the dagger and the whip, he was covered in so much blood he couldn’t feel how much the new strikes bled.

  What happened next took less than a minute but felt like a century. Shiloh, Kelia, Catan, Lucretia, and another woman he didn’t know but assumed was a Sennrojai appeared behind Anan. Before Anan could strike him again or even realize they were no longer alone, Kelia stepped forward, grasped Anan’s head, and gave it a quick, violent twist. Killian heard her neck snap.

  Shiloh stepped up to him, touching his face gently. I love you, Killian. He chanted those four words over and over through their bondlink as the women took action.

  The strange woman, who had eyes just like his, reached up and snapped the chains that bound him to the hook in the ceiling with her bare hands, much to Killian’s and Shiloh’s shock. As Shiloh steadied him, still repeating those four words, she knelt and did the same with the chains binding his feet.

  Suddenly, everything began to spin. Killian grasped at Shiloh as he blacked out.

  Chapter 30

  Killian was in and out of consciousness for several days. Shiloh was with him every time he surfaced, refusing to let Killian withdraw into himself in pain and shame. He touched Killian constantly, even though he could feel that while on one hand, Killian craved the tender touch of his husband, on the other, Killian was repulsed by the thought of anyone touching him for any reason. He waited patiently in Killian’s mind, repeating over and over that he loved Killian, that he wanted Killian, that it would be okay.

  This time, when Killian awoke, Shiloh was scrunched alongside him on the bed, holding his hand, asleep. They had Killian propped up on his side, so as to put the least
amount of pressure on his wounds. Killian studied Shiloh’s beautiful face. He felt dirty, unworthy of this wonderful man.

  “Bullshit,” said a soft, accented, unfamiliar voice.

  Killian looked beyond Shiloh and saw the strange woman who’d helped rescue him. “Who…” he swallowed around his dry throat. “You?”

  “Daeanara Larrestes,” she answered softly. She stood up from the chair she’d sat in.

  He gasped in shock.

  Shiloh began to shift, waking up in response to Killian’s reaction. Daeanara touched Shiloh tenderly and he settled back to sleep, snuggling a little closer to Killian, breathing out a sigh that sounded like Killian’s name.

  “You’re still alive?” he asked stupidly. Obviously, she was. The woman was right there, touching his face.

  “Very few people know I’m still alive, child mine.” As she touched him, the lingering pain in his head faded. He stared up at this woman, the only Sennrojai the Larrestes had ever produced. If memory served, Daeanara was over three thousand years old, yet she looked as if she might be only in her early seventies. A strong, healthy, active seventy-something. “Kelia is one of them. When your Shiloh told Kelia of the dungeon, which neither she nor Lucretia had any clue about, Kelia appealed to me. I knew exactly where to look.”

  He couldn’t speak, so he thought loudly, Thank you.

  You’re welcome, child mine. She stroked his face affectionately. I’ve watched you a long time, Killian. At every turn, you have acted with honor and courage, unlike your mother, who was a disgrace.

  You know what I’ve been through? Anger began to burn inside him. All he’d been through, and she did nothing? What about Jaden and Araminta? All they had suffered.

  I would be angry if I were you, too, child mine. Unfortunately, as a Sennrojai, just because I see something happening, doesn’t mean I’m able to do anything about it. Thankfully, sometimes I can reduce the damage a little, maybe even save a life. For instance, when Janet killed your father, Lucretia could hear your sister but didn’t know who she was or where to look for her and your brother. Janet would have killed them by the time Lucretia could have found them. So I grabbed Lucretia and plopped her right in the middle.

  Which saved their lives, Killian said. His anger drained away as he felt what she didn’t express: the painful knowledge born of experience that sometimes preventing one tragedy led to a greater one; her belief that things—even horrible things—did have purpose, even if it was completely beyond human comprehension; that Deity had plans for all of Her children, plans that changed according to their choices. Some choices would lead them down to ruin and others would be their salvation, and there was no telling which way each person would go. Deity had given Her children free will, and She had to abide by it as well, which meant watching Her children hurt each other terribly, so She offered the only comfort She could: Love, in all its varied forms. You really believe that?

  Yes, I talk to Deity a lot. After all, She’s oftentimes my only company. She doesn’t really answer me, per se, but sometimes I ask questions. Sometimes, when the answer is no, I sense the most crushing pain I’ve ever encountered, and sometimes, when the answer is yes, I feel incredibly warm, safe, and loved.

  Do you always get an answer?

  Oh, no. Most of the time, I get no discernible response at all. I don’t think Deity ignores me; it just may mean I’m not ready for an answer. When I begged Deity for a reason to allow Hitler to live, after I’d seen what he and his cohorts would do, I was given a vision I still have nightmares about, a vision so terrible I think I nearly lost my sanity. I think only Deity’s grace preserved my sanity. Then She gave me other visions, of children born, of happy families, but to reach that good, Europe had to make it through the bad.

  One of those children is your child, Killian. Your daughter. A daughter like me. You and your Sprite must guard her carefully because she will be strong-willed and powerful if she survives.

  A daughter? Killian was stunned. A Sennrojai daughter? Deity help him. It wasn’t unheard of for a Sennrojai infant to be murdered, along with the parents, in the belief that if the parents produced one such child, they could produce another.

  Laughter greeted that thought. I’m sure She will, if you let Her. Some of your help lies beside you, I believe.

  Killian looked at Shiloh. Even sleeping peacefully, he could see the signs of stress and fear in his husband’s face.

  He shuddered as he thought of Anan, glad she was dead, that she would never terrorize anyone again, but wished he didn’t feel so violated.

  It’s only been a week, child mine, and you’ve been sleeping or drugged for and from surgery for much of it. Give yourself time, little one. You will heal, inside and out.

  Surgery?

  Plastic surgery, to remove some of the scarring that would have occurred if not attended to immediately. The doctor is brilliant, really. But he couldn’t fix everything, so Shiloh made the decisions about what to remove. Anan’s name from your skin was the first priority. The cuts to your face were quite easy to fix, according to the doctor, and some of the marks on your back were easily repaired. You will still be scarred, but you do not bear your tormentor’s name, and your face won’t show your ordeal. Shiloh knew you wouldn’t care about your face, and neither did he, but there was no sense to leave them when they were, in the doctor’s words, ‘An easy fix.’ In addition to that, I have worked to heal some of the worst injuries without scarring.

  Since I can sense your fear about other things, because of what happened last time, there is no infection. The new scratches on your groin are almost gone already. You still have all the bits you had before. Physically, you are healing very well. The question is, are you going to let that creature destroy you emotionally?

  I feel so ashamed. I didn’t even mange to defend myself…

  And when were you supposed to do that? Daeanara chided. When you were unconscious? When you were chained hand and foot? You did the best you could, Killian. It was a sneak attack intended to make sure you couldn’t fight back this time. The strength you displayed was more than impressive. Many would have broken, would have screamed, would have retreated within themselves until it was over and they were dead. You stayed conscious and fighting as best you could until it was safe and the threat gone. You not only managed to get Anan to give you the information you needed to save yourself and your husband, you warned him. That is something to be proud of.

  As for your very understandable sense of violation, I suggest you give yourself a little time and many hot baths with Shiloh to help you feel clean, and then you two should make new memories to exorcise that sense of violation. You are not the only one who suffered through the assault. Shiloh will need to heal every bit as much as you.

  Daeanara leaned down and kissed Shiloh’s head, and then kissed Killian’s forehead. “I love you, child mine. And I’ve come to love your little Sprite. You have a lot of happiness ahead of you, if you’re willing to work for it.” She touched his temple, and he could feel her encourage his body to sleep. “I’ll visit again later, child mine.”

  As Shiloh snuggled closer, Killian’s eyes closed. He touched Shiloh’s face, breathed in the sweet scent of his husband, and let sleep take him.

  Chapter 31

  While Killian remained in the hospital on Rimalia, Shiloh ordered the dungeon be thoroughly searched and then sealed. One of the tenants, an archaeology student, had objected and requested that it be studied before being closed away. Shiloh decided it could be studied after Killian’s death. Until then, it was to be sealed and remain that way. He understood it was important to know the full history of the house, which had sat on the same piece of land in one form or another for over fifteen hundred years, but Killian’s well-being was far more important.

  Shiloh stayed with Killian, taking care of his husband while he healed. During Killian’s hospital stay, he fed and bathed him, ensuring Killian’s modesty was protected as much as possible. When Killian had to let the
doctor and Tii-su do their thing, Shiloh held Killian’s hand through it all, never leaving Killian alone for the procedures. Every night, he slept beside Killian, holding his hand against the nightmares.

  Killian had learned the cosmetic surgeon was an outsider—a human—but he was also one of the most respected and brilliant people in his field on the planet. He was also a very forgiving man, and even tried to refuse the reparations the Council assigned him for their semi-kidnapping of him. When he’d seen the damage done to Killian, he had quite understood that time had been of the essence and he was quite willing to keep silent about Rimalia and its people. After all, it involved a patient’s confidentiality. His understanding meant he now had a whole new pool of patients. Quite a few Rimalians were impressed with his work on Killian and had already made appointments via his office to get consultations about their own scars. A few of the Tii-su trainees had even become interested in reconstructive surgery, a specialty that Rimalians had not actually thought to offer training for, since Rimalians tended to consider scars as just part of life. Any other kind of reconstructive work was simply arranged for on an as needed basis. Dr. Flynn agreed to help those trainees find the right schools, when they completed their training on Rimalia.

  After three weeks, Killian was allowed to go home to his estate, Shiloh going with him. Whenever Killian began to feel dirty and unclean again, Shiloh would draw a bath and help Killian into it, either sitting beside the tub and helping Killian scrub every bit of skin, or climbing in and holding Killian, washing them both tenderly.

  Lady Masrei brought Jaden and Jimmy home to them. Araminta and the boys frequently crawled into bed with Shiloh and Killian, this time to comfort the two adults. Shiloh managed the harvest for Killian, since he wasn’t recovered enough to do so, and frequently called Sherry to make sure things were going well at Morgaine House in the US.