Of Blood and Smoke

Chapter 48

FORTY-EIGHT

Della

“So where is he?” There was no reason Josiah shouldn’t have been here already.

Ezra stepped closer to me, leaving about two feet of space between us. “His first loyalty is to this court; I have no doubt of that. I personally made sure. He will come.”

He stared at me for a moment. “But he seems to not understand the urgency of the situation or how it has reversed due to his tardiness.”

“So where is he?” I repeated myself and held my ground.

“Bring her,” he commanded.

Curious eyes examined me as I was escorted out of the room and down the hallway. I watched as heads tilted toward each other and gossip was whispered behind cupped hands. The skirts of gowns were pulled back, and others stepped toward the walls, as if I were contaminating the air surrounding us all.

Unfortunately, I was barefoot, having taken off my shoes when I’d climbed onto the bed and now my feet were being scraped along the stone. I couldn’t find any purchase or get my bearings; everything was happening too fast. I was quickly hustled away from anything I recognized and brought to a different area.

An elevator took us down to a lower level, and we entered a dark tunnel. There was plenty of lighting, but it barely pierced the darkness that seemed to take on a life of its own. Shadows undulated in corners and the atmospheric pressure dropped, sending a thread of pain through the back of my head.

“Where are you taking me?” I gritted out between clenched teeth. My head felt like it might explode as the agony wrapped around my forehead.

Wincing in pain, I forced my eyes open when I heard the crack of a door. It opened with a deep grating sound and revealed what appeared to be an underground cavern. The grotto had been transformed into a meeting space, complete with the trickle of running water in the background and long stalactites hanging, some nearly reaching the floor. Jagged rocks formed walls, circling a rectangle-shaped dais in the center.

My feet hit the edge of the platform when I dropped my weight, but firm clasps on my upper arms kept me from falling to the cold rock. Multiple arms lifted me onto what looked like an altar, and I was laid down.

Clenching my stomach muscles, I tried to raise myself to a sitting position. The pairs of arms came back with swoops of fabric fluttering in my face as I was forced back. Ezra stepped up alongside me, his robes rustling against the gray stone, and a cart was pushed in. The two guards that hand-delivered me to the chamber stood silently at each end, ready to stop my escape.

The rattle of wheels ended, and Ezra turned, coming back with a long, thick stiletto-style needle. “This will hurt,” he told me, a cruel smile lifting his lips. “Flip her over.”

My chin banged as I was roughly tossed on my belly. Every time I tried to grab the edge of the rock, one of the men slapped or hit me. I gave up fighting, deciding to bide my time and wait for the perfect moment to make a run for it. Getting beat up would significantly slow me down.

A hand trailed along my back, tapping my spine all the way until it stopped at the dip right above my rear. I felt a prodding, and then a massage of my muscles while I stiffened all over from being touched. Movement in my peripheral vision forced me to try and turn while my face was dragged against the altar.

More people had joined the three of us, dressed in black lab coats with gold trim. One pushed what looked like a metal coat hanger on wheels before they came to a stop and attached a clear, flat plastic bag to the hook at the top and attached a thin hose. The whole contraption was archaic in appearance and reminded me of a torture device.

My neck was sore, and I tilted my face down. My hot breath shoved up against my cheeks in panicky bursts, dampening my skin. Was this really happening? Where was Josiah? He should’ve been there by now. I knew he’d been struggling with lingering guilt over his service to these people, but he'd assured me he wasn’t doing anything he didn’t want to do. So, where was he?

I looked the other way and watched as shadows curled like smoke in the corners between the rocks that formed the circular room. The fog seemed to ebb and flow, as if it were trying to take shape, the mist undulating in the air.

One of my arms was pulled up behind me, leaving my forearm resting against my back. A howl left my throat as a sharp pinch suddenly stabbed my flesh. When I could bring myself to look, I saw a thin red line traveling through the plastic tubing, snaking its way up to the suspended pouch. It was my blood they were taking, stealing from me, while I lay there helpless and jailed by Ezra’s goons and Josiah’s apparent ambivalence.

“Stop!” I yelled. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Ezra’s grin leaned over me; his hand splayed against my ass. “We’re testing you, Della. There has to be something undetected in you and we’ll figure out how best to take advantage. Thank you for your sacrifice.”

It felt like I was being drained alive; I could’ve sworn I felt the rush of my blood as it seeped out and into the tubing. “I didn’t give you permission to do this.”

“Ah, but you came willingly. Let’s not forget that.”

“You tricked me, so it doesn’t count.”

“The methods don’t matter—your actions do.”

My plan had been to harness my anger and try to free myself as I had in the past. It was glaringly obvious I was no physical match for these men who for some stupid reason decided to subject me to a useless medical experiment.

Every time I tried to wrench my arm back, the inserted needle stung even worse. Tears started forming, threatening to spill down my cheeks as my surroundings blurred into a watery grave.

Suddenly, the rough hands pressing my shoulders into the stone loosened and I heard a voice say, “What is that?”