Mark of Love (Love Mark Fantasy Book 3)
Page 36
“Shit!” I leaped forward, gripping Erick’s arm. “My lord.”
What the hell had Quilla gotten herself into? She was supposed to be gone from this fucking dimension already.
“I know, I know,” Erick muttered on an exhausted sigh and lifted his hand to interrupt me before I could say anything. “You and your uncle don’t get on well. I’m aware. I’ll make sure to keep the two of you apart while we handle this.”
“No,” I ground out. “Not him. Her. The woman. That’s got to be my true love.”
“What?!” the crown prince yelled incredulously. Around him, his royal soldiers immediately lifted their weapons, on guard, and ready to attack.
“You’re mated to a fucking Graykey?” one asked as another spat on the ground in my direction, as if the very idea put a vile taste in his mouth.
Erick merely hissed out a breath, closed his eyes, and set a hand over his face. “Why the fuck did you just tell me that?” he asked, then added as he gritted out from between clenched teeth, “In front of witnesses?”
“You have to help me,” I begged, stepping toward him.
All his warriors shifted closer, causing me to inch backward away from their prince.
Meanwhile, Erick threw back his head and cracked off a harsh laugh. “Help you?” he repeated. “Have you lost your damn mind, Indy? Even if I was so inclined to assist you right now—which I’m pretty sure I’m not—I couldn’t defy my father to such an extreme. And I can tell you right now, he would never agree to pardon a Graykey. You know more than anyone how dangerous they are.”
“But she’s not. Erick, please God, just listen to me.”
With an aggravated sigh, the prince waved a hand, letting me know he’d at least listen.
“It’s Quilla Graykey. Do you remember the information we have about her?”
“Hell, I never remember the damn details about any Graykey. That’s Olivander’s forte. But the name vaguely rings a bell. Is she the one who traded her magic to the Donnelly bitch who used it to snap Urban’s neck?”
“Yes!” I pointed at him, glad he remembered. “That’s her. She shed her magic in order to avoid succumbing to her family’s bloodlust. She’s not evil. She took drastic measures to keep from going evil.”
The prince hissed out a weary sigh and shook his head. “That’s nice to hear and all, but she could still—”
“I’m not done,” I cut in, slicing him with a pleading expression. “She also had her womb magically closed so she can’t bear children. She can’t fall into the curse’s bloodlust, and she can’t pass it on to a new generation. I promise you, Erick. She is harmless. Completely not dangerous to anyone.”
“Uh, my lord,” the homing human called. “There was more on the back of the message. It says the Graykey female killed one of our guards and one of Teller’s. Then incapacitated another before they finally captured her.”
I hissed out a curse, even as I silently congratulated my girl for putting up a good fight. Erick turned back to me, his eyebrows raised inquisitively.
With a wince, I shrugged. “Like you can blame her for defending herself.”
“You’re not arguing your case well at all.”
“You know what they’ll do to her,” I urged. “Tell me; what would you do to avoid such a capture for your mate?”
“Jesus, Indigo. You really got yourself into a pickle. But this is one area I can’t help you.”
I wanted to keep begging. But he was right. Even if he did want to help me, he couldn’t. Not even he could sway the king’s mind. I’d seen him try before to no success. I guess that meant I was on my own.
Fine. I could follow my mark back to wherever she was and free her by myself. Then we’d ship her off to Earth once and for all.
Taking a step back, I nodded to the prince. “You’re right,” I said. “But thanks anyway. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” I bowed my head in respect and started to turn away, only for the ring of soldiers to march a step forward, closing in on me some more.
Not allowing me to leave.
I glanced toward the prince, my head going quiet with alarm. “Erick?”
He shook his head sadly. “I can’t just let you go, Indigo. My father would have my head on a platter if I did.”
“But why would you detain me?” I demanded. “What have I done wrong?”
“Colluding with a Graykey,” he answered immediately. “You can’t tell me you’re not going to follow your mark straight back to her and try to free her? Because that’s exactly what I’d do for my mate.”
I swallowed thickly, trying to think my way out of this one. But before I could say anything, a wave of pain blasted through my temple.
Going momentarily blind, I groaned through the agony and fell to my knees.
“Indy?” Erick stepped forward in concern.
I clutched my love mark and gritted my teeth. But Jesus. This was bad. A person wasn’t supposed to feel the emotions of their true love from this kind of distance unless it was extreme. Like life-or-death extreme.
Quilla had to be in fatal agony right now.
“What’re they doing to her? Erick, please—”
Another bolt struck me, right in the temple, and then everything went black.
Chapter 33
Quilla
I woke, bound to a stone wall, my arms stretched out on either side of me with my wrists caught in manacles and my ankles shackled together with chains. A cloth gag was tied around my face, biting into the corners of my mouth.
Panic was the first reaction. I struggled, trying to pull my hands free to no success and move my legs, but the chains were far too heavy to allow me more than a few inches of movement at a time.
Damn.
Good and truly stuck, I closed my eyes and rested my head back against the wall behind me, concentrating on breathing in through my nose—because the cloth tasted vile—and calming myself down. Exhaling out around the gag, I cleared my brain and let reasoning thoughts back in.
Think. I just needed to think.
Indigo had told me, all you have to be is smarter than them. You can overcome anyone by outthinking them. So I could do this. I could think of a way out of here. Because size, strength, and speed definitely weren’t going to help right now. Nothing physical would, which meant I’d need to talk my way out, get inside my opponent’s head, and coax them into setting me free. Except I kind of needed my mouth available for that. I began to work my jaw, wincing at the soreness there, which reminded me of how many times my captor had hit me in the face before knocking me unconscious. Bastard. He’d done a superb job of gagging me too. The cloth was wrapped so tight around my head I couldn’t even push it out with my tongue.
My very dry, offended tongue, I might add. Seriously, the bitter flavor of the gag was straight-up disgusting.
Okay, removing that was going to be a no-go. But there had to be something else.
Reopening my eyes, I focused on the room. Dark, chilly, damp. Low ceilings, stone walls. The only source of light came from the two torches that hung from either side of the closed door on the other end of the room. No windows.
Definitely a dungeon. But a messy one. It was full of shit. The shelves and tables around me were littered with clay beakers, coils of leather, gears of all shapes and sizes, metal and wooden doohickeys that made no sense to me, along with piles of scrolls with what looked like crazy scribblings on them from where I squinted.
If I were on Earth, I’d say it looked like a mad scientist’s laboratory, like someplace where Dr. Frankenstein had created his monster. Then my gaze moved to the center of the room, and I became utterly convinced that’s exactly what this was.
Because seriously, what the fuck was that thing?
It was exactly the kind of machine Frankenstein’s monster would be born on.
Constructed entirely of wood and metal, the creepy contraption sitting in the middle of the room had to be a torture device straight from my nightmares. With a complicated mess of pul
leys, gears, and levers surrounding it, the main area was really quite simple, involving three slabs: two wooden planks crisscrossed for a place to shackle arms and legs, forcing all four limbs to spread apart equally, and a shorter plank nailed to the middle to hold a head and torso. Then there were more metal manacles to clamp the person’s hips, chest, and forehead into place.
I gagged, and panic rolled over me again. Thrashing anew, I flailed so hard against my restraints that I realized I had a wound in my side that I hadn’t been aware of before. Sucking in a pained gasp, I bowed against the agony, and tears seeped down my cheeks. But Christ, when had I gotten that one? More than one rib had to be broken.
They must’ve kicked me while I was unconscious.
He must’ve kicked me.
Everett of House Teller, I remembered.
Indigo’s uncle.
That was who’d captured me. But who held me now? He’d told his lackey they would be rewarded for keeping me alive, which had to mean they’d passed me on to someone else. Right?
But who? The King of High Cliff?
I was just beginning to think maybe I wasn’t going to be able to escape this place when the door opened, and Indigo’s uncle stepped inside.
“Ah,” he replied pleasantly when we made eye contact. “You’re finally awake. Excellent.”
He shut the door behind him and strode into the room, coming over to inspect me. He appeared much more cheerful now than he had the last time we’d spoken. When I’d told him I had killed his son.
But then, why wouldn’t he be? He had me completely under his control to torture as he wished. It had to be any avenging father’s dream come true.
“Well, look at that,” he murmured in awe and lifted his hand to my face. I tried to move my head to the side, away from his touch, but he just kept coming until he’d gently wiped a tear off my cheek. Then he frowned as if confused as he inspected the drop of wetness on the tip of his finger. “Graykeys can cry. How remarkable.”
The slap came next. Out of nowhere.
One second, he was staring at his fingertip, and the next, his palm came flashing through the air until it cracked against my already sore cheekbone. Pain exploded in my skull. A bright light flashed in my eyes. And then Everett was pointing severely at my nose. “Cry in my presence again, and I’ll cut out your eyes. Got it?”
Yep. That command was crystal clear. I totally got it.
Muffling out a sound of outrage through the gag, I slid my gaze past him, unable to focus on him a moment longer. He had a common countenance, with an average, middle-aged body and a face that was just beginning to show some wear. He seemed to be in good shape for his age. But it was his eyes that haunted me.
They were the same shade of blue as Indigo’s. The only difference was how they lacked that mischievous, cheerful spark of life Indy’s eyes had. So looking into this man’s face was like staring at a dead version of my true love, and I couldn’t handle it.
But staring past him made me focus on that thing.
Following my gaze, Everett grinned. “I see you’ve noticed my invention.” Stepping to the side so I could see it fully, he splayed out a hand as if to introduce us, though I had a bad feeling I’d get a much more up-close-and-personal taste of it sooner than I liked.
“I call it the extractor,” Everett announced, the pride in his voice thick and obvious. “It’s going to help you tell me exactly where all your other living Graykey kin are.”
I muffled out a response, something I hoped he translated as, you can go fuck yourself with it, is what you can do.
Chuckling as if he understood, he set a hand to his ear. “What’s that? I can’t make out what you’re saying with that rag in your mouth.”
I sent him a glare. Fuck…you…I elocuted as clearly as I could.
His eyebrows shot up. Yeah, he’d definitely heard that one.
“Not very ladylike, are you?” he reprimanded with a tsk, and shook his head only to sigh. “Then again, what could one expect, coming from a Graykey?”
My hands might be shackled, but my fingers weren’t. So I flipped him off with both middle fingers.
Too bad the gesture was only considered rude on Earth. He had no idea how much fouler I’d just been to him.
Oh, well. I knew.
Smirking behind my gag, because giving him the bird made me feel better inside, I brightened enough to breathe easier. I mean, it wasn’t as nice as I’d feel unchained from the wall and out of this damn torture room, but sometimes you had to take your amusement wherever you could get it.
I’d learned that from Indigo.
I had thought he was insane at first when he’d been sitting on that damn zebra, looking like a fool with his hands bound together as our prisoner, and all he’d done in response was smile and hum “Singin’ in the Rain” as if everything was grand.
But now I had to admire him for it. Because even though the situation hadn’t been magnificent, he’d somehow made the best of it. He could weather a storm with humor and cheer like no one I’d ever met before.
I had a bad feeling that might be the only way I was going to survive this storm. By not losing my mind and falling victim to the darkness.
Because looking at Everett’s extractor kind of made me want to hyperventilate until I went mad with fear and fell straight into a vat of mindless terror.
“That’s okay,” Everett was saying, forcing me to focus on him. “Your vulgarity will only help me treat you more like the vile piece of scum you are. Help remind me what you did to my son.” Stepping closer, he caught my chin and forced me to look up at him, the wicked intent in his gaze making me shudder. “And you will suffer for that.”
His gaze ran over my face and down to my chest, and his lashes lowered with lust. “Prepare to suffer in every way imaginable, whore.”
Bile rose in my throat as his hand released its grip on my chin, and one of his fingers began to trail down the side of my neck.
With my protests muffled behind the cloth, I could only thrash against his touch, unable to avoid him as his fingers moved over my collar. I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed convulsively, not able to avoid the feel of him.
Just as he reached the top of my bodice, the door to the chamber flew open, banging against the wall.
“What the hell?” Everett whirled around as the room filled with armed palace guards. “You can’t just burst in here like that,” he shouted, waving his hands dramatically to get them to go. “Who the hell do you think you are? This is my private workroom. Get out!”
“Kneel in the presence of your king,” one of the men ordered, his stern command causing Everett to curse under his breath just before the doorway filled with a tall, broad-shouldered silhouette that wore a sharp, jutting crown and a fluttering cape.
Everett instantly fell to one knee and bowed his head. “Your Majesty,” his gruff voice worked out the greeting. “I was not expecting—”
The ruler of High Cliff lifted his hand, silencing my captor as he entered the room. I’d never seen King Ignatius before and had no idea what to expect. Maybe a slovenly, unkempt and oily mass of evil, someone who never bothered to rise from his throne where he issued his austere orders.
But this neat and tidy—while still large and domineering—man had a very regal and noble, clean-cut presence about him. His shoulders were wide and proudly stiff, his nose long and straight, eyes dark and shrewd. His gold crown sat on a bald head but the weathered beard that was streaked with dark and gray hair more than made up for the lacking portion on top.
He gazed around the room, taking in everything yet passing over me as if I didn’t even exist. Then he stopped in front of the extractor.
“I see that your creation’s finally complete,” he said to Everett as he nodded to it.
“Yes, my king. After two years of intense construction and obtaining various magics from over a dozen different mages, I fully believe it’ll work now.”
King Ignatius nodded once. “Let’s hope th
at it does. As your very life now hinges on its success.”
Everett paled but bobbed his head in affirmation. “It will, Your Majesty.”
“Explain the process to me again.”
Pushing to his feet, Everett eagerly stepped forward. “The subject will lie here, unclothed, arms strapped and fastened here and here by these manacles.”
Unclothed? Had he just said unclothed? My stomach dipped with dread.
“Legs here,” Everett went on, pointing out the obvious planks my legs would lie on, “with these clamps snapped around her ankles and these here to hold her hips, chest, and head in place.”
The king nodded quietly, studying each area Indigo’s uncle pointed out.
“Once she's securely in place, we’ll crank this lever.” He grasped it with both hands and demonstrated, gritting his teeth and bracing a foot against the base of the lever as he pulled it toward him. The extractor began to swivel then, swinging over and causing the metal to screech and grind past each other until the boards that were facing up had turned upside down and were now facing the floor. When it settled into place with a loud, jarring thud, I winced, already imagining how such a rough landing would snap every bone in my wrists and ankles.
“We’ll hang her suspended here, facing down over the magically charmed map of the Outer Realms…”
They were going to do what now?
My head went faint and my stomach queasy. I began breathing harshly through my nose, forcing fresh air in and out, doing everything I could to keep from vomiting inside my gag.
“From there, the procedure will require eight incisions. All done in one- to two-inch slices that only allow the body to release one drop of blood at a time. Any less than that and the openings will need to be made wider. Any more than a drop at a time and the process will be ruined, forcing us to start the whole procedure over again from the beginning.”
My pulse picked up, and my breathing grew even more ragged. The room blurred before me.