Encryption of the Heart (Love, Tech, & Magic #1)

Chapter Thirty-One

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Olline slowly came back to her senses for the second time in less than a day. It was not a record she thought she would break, ever, but here she was.

Her eyelids were heavy, her head fuzzy like there was cotton shoved in her ears. The iron tang of blood coated her tongue, and everything hurt . You weren’t supposed to feel pain anymore when you were dead, right? Because that’s what Olline had sworn had happened. And yet, her throat was a raw, scorched mess where even the cool air ripped through it like a rusty saw. Her hands throbbed, heat pulsating from where they were bandaged—

Bandaged?

With a violent gasp, she forced her eyes wide open. Scrambling for leverage, for some kind of weapon . . .

Olline was back on the gurney. The medical devices she had seen earlier were closer, with pale blue tubes attached to her arms.

Oh no. No, no, no!

Her painful, labored breathing picked up as panic demanded she call on her power again, hoping against hope that she still had access to it. The table vibrated, relief flooded her, when:

“Easy now, love, you’re okay,” a raspy female voice said from behind her.

Olline whipped her head around, her vision spinning, and it took her a second to focus on the doctor she had seen earlier. She raised her aching hands, eyes wide with terror, ready to impale this woman to the wall and run, dragging Casimir with her if she had to—her breath caught in her throat, making her sputter. Where was Casimir? Did Etzel send him away?

“We’re free, for the moment,” the woman explained hastily, raising her wrinkled, soft brown hands in placation. Olline still eyed her warily. Slowly, she released most of the magic she had summoned to her, as the doctor didn’t move closer and she wasn’t strapped to the table. “You were in awful shape, we couldn’t leave when you . . .” the doctor trailed off, waving her hand toward the figure slumped behind her.

Etzel was unconscious on the floor. That wasn’t Olline’s doing. Did Casimir do that? If so, where was he now? Why had he left her alone with a stranger?

She blinked, trying to focus her attention through her mounting panic. Her eyes snapped to the destroyed wrist-communicator. The coil in her chest eased slightly seeing the demolished device. It had been a gamble, sending her ball of iron careening into the tech. She hadn’t been positive that destroying it would disrupt the signal and free Casimir. Olline was seventy-seven percent sure it would, since Etzel sent the update from his wrist-communicator, and had waited until Casimir was near. She was glad her assumption paid off, but it didn’t account for why, or how, Etzel came to be in the sorry state he was in now. Nor where Casimir was, though she had to assume he wasn’t following anyone’s command but his own. She had to believe that or drown under the force of her anxiety.

Following her gaze, the doctor sighed and hesitantly went back to checking Olline’s hands. Olline lurched back, licking her chapped lips, not letting the doctor closer until she had a moment to study the surrounding serums. Once positive they wouldn’t be used to sedate her, Olline allowed the doctor to tend to her injuries.

“Where is he?” Olline demanded, voice little more than a strangled croak. “Where’s Casimir?”

“The moment Casimir returned to his senses,” the physician explained softly, “he tackled Etzel before he could summon his security detail. He couldn’t give us new commands, and you were technically subdued, so our minds became ours again. Etzel was the only threat in the room.” The doctor rubbed more serum into Olline’s tender neck, letting the healing nanites repair the damaged tissue at an accelerated rate. “Once Etzel was unconscious, Casimir and my wife went to make sure we wouldn’t get any nasty surprises while I tended your injuries. Nasty bit of work you did on your hands, love. You’re lucky you didn’t cut them off with that laser scalpel.”

Olline gave her head a little shake and turned her attention back to the doctor. “Your wife?” she asked, her voice cracking.

She swallowed anything else she wanted to ask about Casimir, about what he had done to her. Olline wanted to believe that he would never consciously hurt her. But she had never seen him like that before, had never known him when he was a true thrall. While her heart yearned to reassure herself that he was safe, that their actions—Casimir’s and the doctor’s—didn’t define them, especially in this case, Olline would be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit glad she didn’t have to face him immediately.

The woman’s grin was tender, though her hazel eyes remained sad. “She’s a specialist, my Isobel. She is, was, a cybernetic surgeon before Etzel got his claws in her. We were already married, but I’d wager that if I hadn’t been a doctor, and a damn decent one at that, Etzel would’ve had me discarded. He likes to toss rubbish before it gets rank if you follow me.”

She spoke with such a detached nonchalance that Olline’s heart broke. “Did—” her voice caught, and she couldn’t blame it on the magitech serum. She cleared her throat and began again, “Did Casimir bring you . . . I mean, was he ordered to, you know . . .” Olline bit off her words, floundering for the right way to ask how she came to be here.

The doctor faltered slightly; the sadness deepening in her eyes. She brushed back a wisp of silky, cool brown hair and shook her head. “No, love. Casimir wasn’t the one who lured my wife here. Even if it’d been him, we wouldn’t hold it against him. Isobel and I, we’ve been part of Etzel’s menagerie long enough to know that none of us are here by choice, and none of us would do a fraction of the things he forces us to do.”

Breathing, Olline found, was marginally easier at hearing the doctor’s words. It was the comfort Olline needed, whether or not the doctor knew it.

The older humani checked the fluid bags attached to Olline’s arm once more and then gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m Sofia, by the by. And, in case I don’t get another opportunity to say it, thank you for breaking the control Etzel had on us. You’re a proper saint, you are.”

“Is it over then?” Olline asked, her eyes darting to Etzel again, hoping Casimir and Isobel were all right, and wondering when they would return. Mostly Olline wanted to know if she still needed to fix Casimir’s chip, if they still needed Under Senator Delora and her mountain of lawsuits against Etzel at all.

Olline’s nerves were fried, and if she could be done with this entire business, she would jump at the chance. In theory, doing the right thing was perfect. It was, well, the right thing to do. But the trauma of nearly being implanted with a control chip . . . Olline wasn’t designed for that. As she watched Sofia fuss over her, she had a new appreciation for what this woman had gone through, and the gentle care she was still able to provide.

Sofia lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. “Couldn’t tell you, love. Etzel had contingency plans, yes? But it went further than that. His entire organization’s a machine like none I’ve ever seen. Quite literally. His being incapacitated doesn’t shut the machine down. If it did, the prick wouldn’t be able to sleep. Far as I can tell, everything’s still very much operational and this is just a momentary reprieve.”

“Then what do we do?” Olline asked in a quiet voice.

Sofia gave Olline a sad smile. “I know why Etzel wanted you. Your magic, for certain. But your expertise, love. He wanted to take advantage of that mind of yours.” There was a pause. Sofia gave her a pleading look before quietly adding. “If anyone can dismantle this whole operation, it’s you. If you feel up to it. Or want to.”

“Of course, I want to. I will,” Olline answered immediately. No matter that in her weakened state, it wasn’t a guarantee she would succeed.

No pressure.

“There,” Sofia said, adding a bit more biomagitech serum to her wrists where the bandages ended. “That’ll fix you up nice and proper now. You’ll not lose any mobility in your hands, but I can’t speak to the sensitivity going forward. You sliced big chunks out of your palms, love. You’ll need to take it easy for a while.”

Panic had her heart fluttering again. “I’ll need my hands to work,” she said, her throat constricting on the words.

Sofia bit her lip, then her shoulders slumped in a sigh. “Nothing to be done for it, I’m afraid. You have some mobility, but the magitech nanites in that serum can only do so much, work so fast. It shouldn’t affect your ability to cast. So that’s good news, yes?”

Olline wasn’t sure. It was something . But was it enough?

She had enough time to flex her stiff fingers before the door hissed open again. Olline’s heart stopped, her breath escaping in a whoosh of air, eyes wide with dread. The other doctor, Isobel, entered the room. Her lungs squeezed, suddenly unable to breathe when she didn’t immediately see Casimir. She sat up straight on the gurney, swinging her legs off, ready to run to save him if she needed to. Olline swayed, trying to see around Isobel, hoping, praying that Casimir was behind the woman.

Despite her worry, Olline noted how petite Isobel was, how almost frail the older humani looked, but she had a severe beauty to her free of her protective gear. Her blue eyes held a fierceness that made them burn with icy flames, her pale blonde hair was pulled in a tight bun atop her head, not a single strand out of place. Despite how small she was, how delicate she looked, there was a strength to her that had Olline swallowing the lump in her throat as Isobel strode toward her wife.

But where was her Casimir?

Then, the door opened once more and a familiar seerani entered the room. Tears welled behind her eyes to see him, back and himself again. She couldn’t speak around her joy, instead making an intelligible sound deep in her chest.

Casimir didn’t approach Olline when he reentered the room.

Her heart plummeted. He hadn’t even noticed she was awake after what he had done to her. Had Sofia been wrong to think that Etzel’s thralls wouldn’t do the things he commanded them to if given a choice? Had part of Casimir wanted to hurt her, and now he couldn’t look at her because of the guilt?

No, she told herself fiercely. She knew better. She knew Cas better than that. He would never want to hurt her, but that wouldn’t remove the guilt he may feel over being forced to do so.

He stood over Etzel, his shoulders rising and falling in time with his heavy, trembling breaths. Casimir clenched his hands so tightly at his sides that Olline could see the white of his knuckles from where she was on the bed. He had eyes only for Etzel, whose face was twitching with faint grimaces, slowly coming back to consciousness.

Sofia and Isobel were murmuring to each other, checking in with one another. If either of them noticed Olline carefully pulling herself off the gurney and using the IV pole for support as she got to her feet, they didn’t stop her.

“Cas?” she whispered, but he didn’t respond.

Olline took a shaky step closer, unsure of what was happening, what Casimir was thinking, as she carefully drew nearer. “Cas? Are you okay?” she asked again, her voice a little louder this time. Was he ignoring her? Too guilt ridden to look at her? Her heart twisted, wanting to hold him, but the memory of his hands crushing her throat made it almost impossible for her to get closer, to touch him.

“I found it,” he said. His voice was so raspy and low that it came out as a growl.

She was almost too afraid to ask what he found. But that had never stopped her before. “What’re you talking about?” Olline said, carefully inching forward, her hands throbbing around the pole they held for support. But the pain in her hands was a sweet balm compared to the anguished ache of her heart.

“The control room,” he answered, like it should have been obvious. He still didn’t look at her, didn’t react like he truly knew she was there. He locked his red eyes on the man who enslaved him, his body coiled tight like a steel cable about to snap. “Where Etzel makes us all dance, where he keeps the keys to the kingdom. I found it, and I . . .” he trailed off, before taking a deep ragged breath, his body tensing even more—something Olline didn’t think was possible. “I could take it, with your help. Transfer all that power, that data, to me. I could run this operation. Make Etzel one of my assets instead.” His voice became fevered, laced with manic desperation. “I’d be free. Safe forever. I could keep you safe. Us safe. If that power was mine.”

Olline sucked in a breath, tentatively reaching out to him. She could understand the longing Casimir had, empathize with it, even. This shouldn’t have been a surprise to her, his words and desire. Casimir had openly told her this was an option he was considering. But she had thought he was joking. Had hoped he was joking. And after what Etzel had made him do, to her of all people, she had believed he would have let this desire go completely.

“You’re still mixing up freedom with power, Cas,” she reminded him, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t know if any of the arguments she had given before would work now, but she would try. Even if it took all the air in her lungs, and all the strength in her aching heart, she would say anything to keep Casimir from going down that path. What was the point of saving him from the control chip if she couldn’t save his soul along with him? She would rather die than see that happen.

“You don’t have to turn into Etzel to be free of him. We’re already doing that. We’re nearly there! No one should have the kind of twisted power Etzel claims, built off the backs of enslavement, kidnapping, blackmail, and so many other terrible crimes.” She took another shaky step closer, as if afraid to spook him, afraid he’d lash out at her if she did. It was a fear she never would have had if Etzel hadn’t forced Casimir to lay hands on her. “If you want to be free of Etzel permanently, and truly heal and grow, then you need to destroy his empire, his political career, not step into his shoes.”

Casimir whipped his head toward her, his red eyes blazing with furious fire. “I’ve dealt with a century of pure torture . I deserve better! I’m owed better.”

The room stilled further, and Olline risked a glance at the two doctors. Their eyes were hard, hands slowly inching toward scalpels and laser cutters. They’ll kill him, she realized, taking a sharp breath. She couldn’t let that happen.

Holding up a placating hand, Olline tried to put as much tenderness—not pity—as she could in her face. She tried to hide the fearful tremble of her hand as she stood before him, this man she wanted to save so badly her lungs constricted with the need.

“You are owed better,” Olline agreed. “But so is everyone else Etzel implanted. What about them, Cas? What about Sofia and Isobel? Would you really continue to do to them what Etzel did to you? What Kullen sold you into?”

He flinched, his whole body curling in on itself at the mention of his older brother. The fury blazing in his eyes died down, the feral rage dissipating to where Olline saw the man she had fallen for reemerge.

Until Etzel groaned, rolled over, and tried to get to his feet, anyway. The bastard had the worst timing .

Casimir’s face hardened, lips pressed into a firm line, and the fury reignited in his eyes. He grabbed Etzel by his hair, twisting it in his fist to get a tight grip. The Under Senator gave a sharp, ragged breath, and sputtered, “Let go of me, you rat!”

Casimir sneered, kicking his tormentor over so he was on his back, forced to look Casimir in the face. Olline watched, wide-eyed, too stunned and paralyzed to move.

“We’re going to dismantle the political empire you built, Etzel,” Casimir seethed, crouching on Etzel’s chest. “Everything you’ve built for the past century, poof! Up and gone with no fanfare. No one to laud your accomplishments, no one to care when you’re gone.” He glanced quickly over his shoulder at Olline, and that’s when her stomach sank. A chill ran through her, raising the hairs on her arms in warning.

“She’s right, you know,” Casimir said, his voice a deadly, heated whisper. “I don’t need any of the tainted power you hold to be safe. But to be free? Well, as long as you draw breath, there’ll be no freedom for any of us.”

That flash of silver again fell from Casimir’s sleeve into his waiting palm. Olline registered it as the knife Kullen had given Casimir, the one token he kept from his brother all these years. In an instant, she remembered what Casimir said about why he used this blade—so the blood would be on his brother’s hands and not his. Too late, she shouted, “Wait!”

Casimir thrust the blade into Etzel’s chest. Etzel gave a wet gasp, yellow eyes large and unbelieving, the blade buried to the hilt. He clawed at the weapon when Casimir yanked it free and plunged it in again.

And again, and again, and again.

Etzel stopped gurgling long before Casimir dropped the gore-covered dagger. Olline couldn’t tear her eyes from the dead body of Etzel Straub. Coldness pumped through her veins, too shocked perhaps to register the brutality of what she witnessed. She should feel horrified; but if Olline was being truthful, she didn’t care. She didn’t care that Casimir had killed his abuser.

Etzel had deserved it.

Casimir rocked back on his heels, spent. Blood covered Casimir, with arterial sprays all over his chest and face, and his hands dripping with gore. He looked down at them, marveling, before a ragged sob cracked him in half. He threw his head back and yelled, his cries so full of pain. His hands rested in his lap, dripping, but Olline didn’t care. She stumbled, her knees slamming to the ground as she fell next to Casimir and pulled him to her.

She cradled him as he cried, and yelled, and raged. She didn’t say anything as the tidal wave of emotions rolled through him.

Olline let him know through her embrace that he wasn’t alone.

Soon the tsunami of grief pulled back, or it could have been hours later. She didn’t know, and she didn’t care. Olline would have stayed like that forever if that’s what Casimir needed. But, eventually, his screams of pain turned to hiccupping sobs of relief.

His arms tightened around her briefly as the last of his anguish bled from him. With a strangled sigh, Casimir rasped, “He’s finally gone.”