Chapter 40 #3
“I’m not angry with you,” I said. “You need to get out of here, too.”
He loomed over me and began fiddling with my right strap.
“Have you seen Sunaria?” I asked.
“No.”
“Stupid question.” I shook my head. “You don’t even know what she looks like. Has he hurt you?”
“He’s been kind to me.”
“I can imagine.” I raised an eyebrow.
“What’s in those jars?” Benjamin asked.
“It’s probably best if you don’t know.”
He stared at me with hungry eyes and stepped back.
“That’s tighter,” I said, trying not to sound annoyed. “You’ve pulled it the wrong way.”
Benjamin glanced at my neck.
“Get those thoughts out of your head.” I stared up at him.
He licked his lips.
“You’ll regret it,” I said.
With shocking speed, he flung himself at me and I felt the sharp sting of his fangs in my neck and his full weight on me. He let out a muffled groan, gulping loudly.
Slipping away, I released a silent scream into the darkness.
When I awoke, Delacroix loomed over me.
My tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth, and I tried to hold my head up, looking for Benjamin. Delacroix held his wrist over me. He’d made a small incision there and blood promised to drip. My tongue gratefully received the red droplets. They stung my taste buds. I wanted more, needed more.
“What do you want from me?” I rasped.
The wrist straps were painfully tight, and I felt a surge of panic when I saw two men holding Lilly. She looked terrified. Guttural sounds escaped through my clenched jaw.
Delacroix waved the saw in my face and then rested the blades against my right wrist, sending blinding pain into my hand and back up my arm, as the blades ran back and forth, biting into my flesh. The warmth and stickiness of spurting blood caused my head to spin.
Lilly’s screams were deafening.
“Shut your eyes, Lilly,” I yelled.
Delacroix stopped and ran his fingertips over the bloody blades. Lilly was close to fainting, her eyelids flickering.
The pain receded. “Let her go.”
Delacroix studied the blades.
My left arm broke free but was quickly restrained. They shoved Lilly forward, leaning her over so close to me that her neck came within reach, her scent a mixture of fear and sweat. The blade came down upon my right wrist again and pressed into my flesh.
Delacroix pointed at Lilly.
“This is not who I am.” Terror washed over me. “This is barbaric.” I turned my head away.
Agony slashed through me as the serrated edge gnawed and scraped through muscle. I screamed again and again, sucking in air as the blades reached the bone and continued to cut through.
Any sense of morality I had was dissipating.
There was numbness now where my hand had been, and a phantom pain reached my fingertips. I dared not look. The blade now rested against my left wrist, a cruel tease, and then it sliced into me.
I sprang forward and buried my fangs into Lilly’s neck. Forgive me…
She didn’t even flinch, too terrified to move as I absorbed her fears and unfolding memories stolen by the unworthy. This perfect child with her dimpled cheeks and button nose, her trust betrayed. I shared her thoughts as they faded.
My lips trembled as I felt her go. Don’t forgive me.
They carried her body out.
“No!” I sobbed.
Grasping onto thoughts of her, I buried them deep within, refusing to let her fade.
I clutched at the remnants of her memory.
Something inside me snapped, bringing a realization of the monstrosity I had become.
My excuses had no foundation and denial was impossible.
Thrashing, unable to suppress my rage, I felt the right strap give.
Groping hands held me down and, with a shove, Delacroix pressed my severed hand back against my blood-soaked stump. I surrendered to the vertigo caused by the excruciating sensation of nerve endings realigning.
“Lilly, is she all right?” Marcus’ lips quivered.
This time, they’d not chained me to the prison wall. Relieved that my hands were still attached, I opened and closed my fingers instinctively. There was no evidence of what Delacroix had done to me, but I massaged my wrists anyway.
“We heard screaming.” Marcus was visibly shaken.
Leaning with my back against the cold stone, I wrapped my arms around my legs.
“What did he do?” Marcus’ gaze fixed on my shirt. “Where’s Lilly?”
I looked down, ashamed.
“Whose blood is that?” he asked.
I glanced at my soaked shirt, and then over at Ted. His shallow breathing signaled that death was near.
Marcus followed my gaze. “Can you help him?” he asked.
“Let him die.”
“What?”
“At least one of us will be at peace.”
Marcus slumped against the wall.
“I want to find my son, find Sunaria, and go back to Spain,” I murmured.
“You’re our only hope of getting out of here.”
I wanted to scream in frustration, but I resisted the urge.
“Whatever happened in there,” Marcus said, “it wasn’t your fault. He’s a monster.”
“I’m a monster, too.” My vision blurred with tears.
“No, Delacroix’s a sadist. You, me, we’re his victims.”
“I’ll never forgive myself,” I whispered.
“God will forgive you. He forgives those—”
“Don’t spout religion at me,” I snapped.
“I’m just trying to help.”
“You’re not.”
“It’s always comforted me.”
“What? After you steal, you ask for forgiveness? How convenient.”
“Don’t you dare judge me.”
Ted moaned.
“I just need quiet to think.” I rubbed my temples.
“Taxes forced us into the city.” Marcus’ nostrils flared.
“But they hire children. It’s cheaper. We work for virtually nothing, twelve hours a day, seven days a week, and all we get is scraps.
So yes, when we heard this place was empty, we foraged.
We trespassed.” He held up his wrist and the chain dangled.
“But I think I’ve been punished enough.”
Ted coughed.
“Sunaria, that’s the name of your friend?” Marcus asked.
I nodded. “It’s my fault she’s in danger.”
“Delacroix’s the one to blame,” he said.
I managed to stand and then headed for the door.
“If we get out of here,” Marcus said, “I’m going to show you the London that I know. The street acts, poets and playwrights, and the artists. Have you ever been to Covent Garden?”
I checked the door and found it locked. “No, I’ve been a little busy lately.”
“I’m going to help you find your friend,” Marcus vowed.
The clanging of keys could be heard on the other side of the door.
I stepped back, ready to fight.
The door swung open, and Benjamin entered.
I looked at Marcus. “Do you know him?”
Marcus shook his head.
“I’m sorry about earlier.” Benjamin blinked several times. “He told me he’d kill me if I didn’t do it.”
Marcus looked at me. “What did he do?”
“Where’s Delacroix?” I asked.
“He’s gone out,” Benjamin said.
“And he lets you just roam around?” I considered his shifty eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
“Have you seen Lilly?” Marcus asked.
Benjamin gave me a wary look.
I turned to Marcus. “I’ll carry you.”
“There’s no time.” Benjamin’s expression hardened.
I hesitated. “I’m not leaving without him.”
“Delacroix has Sunaria.” Benjamin avoided my gaze.
I stepped closer, wanting to believe him.
“I saw her.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Upstairs, in one of the bedrooms,” Benjamin said. “I couldn’t leave without telling you.”
“Is she guarded?” Marcus asked.
“No, but we don’t have much time.”
I knelt at Marcus’ side. “I’ll get Sunaria and then I’ll come back for you. Your sister’s at the River Thames Inn.”
Marcus nodded. “If you see Delacroix, kill the bastard.”
I followed Benjamin up the steps and through the house, vigilant for any sign of a wayward vampire, and worried that this escape seemed too easy. We reached the landing and Benjamin pointed to an oak door a few rooms down.
“In there?” I asked.
Benjamin nodded.
I didn’t sense Sunaria as I approached.
“She’s unconscious,” Benjamin said, as though reading my mind. He quickly closed off his thoughts.
“Now get out of here.” I turned the handle, and he headed back down the corridor.
The room was pitch black. I sized up the shadows. In a corner chair sat Delacroix.
Panic hit me like a fist. “What is this?”
Delacroix’s grin caused a chill to run up my spine. Benjamin sauntered in and sat on the floor next to Delacroix.
“So how old are you really?” I asked Benjamin.
“Fifty.”
I scowled at him. “You snide little shit.”
Benjamin shrugged. “I found out so much just from that little drink I had.”
I clinched my fists. “Sunaria was never here, was she?”
My filthy jacket lay on the end of the bed. Delacroix picked it up and offered it to me.
“I’m free to go?” I studied them, listening to my gut feeling that screamed danger.
Delacroix wrapped my jacket around my shoulders and patted my back.
I tried not to cringe. “What about the others?”
He strolled over to the bed and lay upon it, placing his hands behind his head.
Benjamin folded his arms. “He wants you to go back and finish off your cell mates.”
“No.” I headed for the door.