3. Vani
CHAPTER 3
Vani
My mind is in turmoil, my stomach is roiling, and my heart is beating way too fast. What the hell did this freak mean by saying I could give him something?
The idea terrifies me. If only I had some strength in me, to fight, or run, but I’m drained.
Still wearing the hood and skeleton mask, he gathers items, getting a kit together. At first, the items appear to be basic first aid, but then I realize he is adding other stuff. Weird looking stuff. He puts strange herbs into one of the mortars and pounds it into fine dust.
He reminds me of a medieval monk as he works, or maybe a character from Lord of the Rings . When he’s got everything laid out on a table by the bed, he takes out a cell phone.
I automatically tap my pockets for mine, but it’s not with me.
Crap, I left it in my room when I went to return the file, and got so upset, I ran from the college without taking anything with me.
This man has a cell, though. He can contact the outside world, even if I can’t. The modern equipment is in strange juxtaposition with how ancient this place feels inside and this man’s old-world vibe.
His thumbs fly across the screen, his neck bent as he sends a text.
“What happens now?” I ask. “Are you going to stitch my arm?”
The thought makes me woozy all over again. It’s not that I want him to. I’d prefer we go to the hospital and let a professional take a look at it—and at the rest of me while they’re at it. But I want to know what he’s planning.
He doesn’t glance up at me. “Yes, but first, we wait.”
“For what?”
“You’ll see.”
“I thought you said this cut was serious?” I glower at him.
Anger builds within me. It’s slowly replacing the grogginess and the fear.
I’m so sick of the men at this college thinking they can pull this shit with the women all the time.
“This won’t take long,” he says.
Sure enough, only a moment after he speaks, the door to the water tower slams open and a second man enters the room.
The moment I see him, the fear returns tenfold. He’s wearing a long, dark, leather coat and ripped black jeans, with big, heavy boots. His hair shines like ravens’ wings in the low light of the room. It’s his mask that grabs my attention, though. He’s wearing a blank mask with just eyes, and nothing else, except for those dark hollows, and it’s oddly terrifying.
“Did you bring it?” the guy with the long hair asks.
The new arrival rummages in his coat pocket and pulls out a knife. It’s not like a switchblade or a kitchen knife—this thing is ornate and looks extremely old. I gasp and scramble back on the bed, as far away as I can from these complete lunatics. Are they intending to gut me?
Jesus. The thought of being left, dead and destroyed on the wooden floor of this shitty water tower, my innards spilling out like some discarded fish on a dock, makes me sick.
The new arrival slips his coat off and throws it over the back of the chair before stalking across the room toward us. He’s dressed entirely in black—the long-sleeved t-shirt clinging to his muscles.
He stares down at me, and I feel his gaze burning into me through the holes in the mask covering his face.
“She’s a pretty thing,” he says.
His tone has me cowering, curling into myself to try to hide from him.
“That’s not what this is about, Malachi,” the first one snaps.
Malachi . I commit his name to my memory.
“It could be,” Malachi argues.
“No, it can’t. Stop screwing around. We need to do this fast because she’s bleeding. I don’t want her to get an infection.”
“Always with the good heart and the healing,” Malachi says. “It’s a good job you’ve got me and Cain to balance out your soft side.”
The guy who took me sighs, the way a parent would at an errant child. It’s a mix of impatience and fondness, but it shows he’s in charge here.
“Listen, we’ve been wanting to screw with the Vipers forever. This is our chance. We’ve seen them with her, and we’ve heard the rumors, and now, she’s confirmed it to me … this girl means something to them. And now we have her, we can use her to make bad things happen for them.”
So, they aren’t going to rape me, but they might simply kill me. For what? To upset the Vipers? Great, that’s so much better. I regret now telling him I was theirs. I regret ever opening my damn mouth at all, but I go ahead and do it again just because I am so pissed right now.
“If you murder me, Zane will rip your heads clean from your bodies.” I stare at Malachi because although he’s terrifying, he seems slightly less insane than my kidnapper. He certainly seems more of this world than the other guy. He might be a sicko who wants to get sexual with me, but he’s not speaking in riddles and sounding as if he came back in a time capsule.
“Wow, Roman, she thinks we’re going to kill her.” Malachi starts laughing, and he laughs so much he ends up folded over. One arm around his stomach, he finally straightens as he shakes his head at me. “If he was going to kill you, he wouldn’t have brought you all the way through the woods to do it. Why waste the energy? He’d have just gutted you right there and then on the forest floor, like a pig.” He leans in close, and through the mask, voice distorted by it, he says. “Would you have squealed like a pig for him, Ivani?”
His words chill me to the bone, and he knows my name, too. It means these men have the advantage of knowing way more about me than I do them. Have they killed people before? If they won’t make me a sacrifice, what do they intend to do?
“If you’re not going to kill me, then what are you going to do with me?”
“Stand,” the man I now know is called Roman orders.
I shake my head, and when he comes near me, I kick out as hard as I can.
He sighs and steeples his fingers in front of his mask as if in prayer. “This can go one of two ways. It can go the easy way or the hard way. If you ensure that it goes the hard way, you might get hurt. I don’t want that.”
“Well, I don’t want you freaks assaulting me,” I spit back.
“We’re not going to assault you,” Roman says. “We can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t ?” His words are so unexpected.
“Firstly, despite Malachi dicking around, we have a code. We made a vow. Secondly, we need to use you to create an enchantment, of sorts, which will bring ruin on the heads of people we despise. You have power in you that could help us. Power over them . If we transgressed against you, then we can’t harness that power in the way we need against the Vipers, do you see?”
“You’re literally insane,” I tell him with a shake of my head.
Cold metal touches my throat, and I wince as I glance to my side to see Malachi has walked around the bed and now has the blade held right against my neck.
“I’m nowhere near as patient as Roman.” He jerks his chin at his friend. “Now, do what we tell you. He’s giving you his word, and I give mine. I’m not gonna do anything to you. You don’t cooperate, though, and we’ll have no reason to keep you whole.”
I swallow hard.
“Now,” Malachi says. “Get. Off. The. Bed.”
I do as ordered, shaking like a leaf. I’m still weak from the accident, and my entire body hurts. I’m not sure my legs are going to be strong enough to hold me. I glance past the two men, toward the door, which isn’t fully shut. I’m standing now, so does that mean I’m also strong enough to run?
Candles gutter in the breeze from the gap in the door.
“Strip to your underwear,” he demands.
“You said you wouldn’t…” I begin, trailing off as I fail at ways of trying to reason with them after they promised not to assault me.
“Lord above, woman, what is it with you?” I can practically hear Malichi’s eye roll. “You’re starting to make me think you want us to touch you. You keep bringing it up. We’re not going to do that, but we need you in your underwear, so just strip.”
Shaking, and with tears filling my eyes, I do as he says because what choice do I have? I’m so woozy as I take my clothes off that I stumble a couple of times. Each time, Roman gently takes hold of my elbow until I’m balanced again.
Once I’m down to my bra and panties, I stand with my hands wrapped around my body. I’m conscious of my curves and tattoos. What do they think when they look at me? They have tattoos of their own, so they can’t judge, but will they think I’m fat? I brace myself for teasing, as well as whatever else they have planned for me.
I wait for whatever my fate will be.
“Damn,” Malachi says. “Look at her, though, Roman. Not usually my type. I prefer them slim, but I wouldn’t mind having a bit of fun.” He twists one of my dark locks in his fingers. “You have really beautiful hair.”
I’m frozen like a fawn in headlights and can’t respond. The air is cool, and it makes my skin pebble and my nipples pucker. I feel Malachi’s greedy gaze on my breasts, but I can’t look. I keep my gaze on the other one, and his skull facemask, deciding his insanity is preferable right now.
Roman simply sighs again at Malachi as if he’s an errant child, not a man threatening a half-naked woman with assault. He picks up one of the bowls full of something that looks like dried flower petals and scatters them around me in a circle. Once he’s done this, he looks at Malachi, and something changes between them.
The atmosphere thickens until I feel as if I’m suffocating. The joking and crass humor Malachi had been indulging in slips away, as something darker and stranger takes over his demeanor.
They stand together, put their hands in front of their faces as if in prayer, and begin to chant.