Chapter 15 #2
I lunged for the crack. I heard him yell and felt a hand seize my ankle for a moment, but I managed to kick it away, fighting toward consciousness as hard as I could.
I bolted upright in the real world, my splinted arm screaming in pain at the movement.
It was night, and the tent was empty except for me.
My heart was pounding with terror so potent that I stumbled out of bed and vomited in the corner.
I could hear the Reapers outside laughing and jeering and the faint screams of a woman, and I realized with dull horror I was naked from the waist down.
Out of habit, I quickly buried the evidence of getting sick.
Then I stood and found my discarded pants.
It was tricky to pull them on with only one arm, but I managed.
Then I crawled back into Juck’s bed, wishing he hadn’t gotten rid of my bedroll.
The sheets smelled like him, another reminder there was no escape.
Maybe it was a dream. It must have been a dream. I had no spare energy to worry about a faceless shadow man in my dreams. I was already living in a nightmare.
I opened my eyes.
Mac sat on the couch beside me and stared, his face carefully expressionless. For a long time, neither of us spoke, and my stomach twisted.
“I’m not the only powered person,” I finally whispered.
He still said nothing, and I couldn’t read his expression. I tried to wait for him to ask questions, but his silence made me uneasy.
“I don’t know who he is,” I added nervously. “That was the first time I encountered him. It only happens when I’m drugged.”
That muscle in his jaw ticked. “But he knows you.”
“He said he does, but I have no idea who he is. He can… can see my memories, so maybe he just found my name in my head. I don’t know.”
“You think this… what’s happening to me… you think it’s my power.”
“I think so.” I desperately tried to read his expression.
“And my power is like his power.”
I nodded.
“You’re scared of him,” he said, staring at me closely. “Are you scared of me?”
“No!” I said immediately. “I’m not scared of you. I don’t know how to explain it, but his power feels so different from mine, and yours feels… it feels like… me.”
He abruptly stood, startling me. He paced the length of the room then stopped at the small window over the kitchen sink, bracing his hands on the counter and hanging his head. Nausea rose, and my fingers twisted the end of my braid repeatedly. He already seemed angry, and I’d barely begun.
“There’s more,” I whispered.
He turned around and pinned me in place with that unreadable expression, crossing his arms over his chest.
Fuck, I regretted bringing this up, but I couldn’t stop now.
“C’mon, Bones. It’s fun.” Vulture grinned crookedly at me, holding up two vials. “Ever heard of fun?”
I rubbed my arms nervously. I had a rare afternoon of freedom because Juck was gone on a day trip, leaving me under guard of Grip and Vulture.
Grip was currently snoring outside Juck’s tent, and Vulture had snuck inside, surprising me with two narcs he’d gotten somewhere.
I knew many of the Reapers got high for fun, but after my first and only experience with narcs, I didn’t want anything to do with them.
“What’s the matter? You scared, lil girl?” Vulture gave me a taunting grin. He was only six years older than me, but he loved reminding me of it.
“I’m not scared,” I muttered, even though we both knew that was a lie.
“Didn’t you have a narc when you broke your arm?”
“Yeah and… I didn’t like it.”
He rolled his eyes. “You probably just had a bad trip. It’s not like the same thing will happen again.”
I desperately wanted to believe him. The bruises on my body ached, and all I wanted was to be able to drift away from my real life for a little while. “You think?”
“Yeah, dumbass. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
I let him prepare everything, and he showed me how to inject it into the crook of my elbow. I was trying to convince myself this was going to be different, but as soon as the drug hit my veins, I knew I was horribly wrong.
The shadow man swiftly entered my head with brutal expertise.
I could feel the anger coming off him in waves, and he didn’t even speak before tearing through my memories with what felt like razor-sharp claws.
The pain left me gasping for air; writhing on the ground, I had no chance of stopping him.
I still couldn’t see anything other than what looked like a vaguely human-shaped dark shadow.
This time, there was a desperation about him that hadn’t been there before.
He was muttering to himself, and I tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but I couldn’t make out the words.
I squeezed my eyes shut and felt him pause. Strong fingers gripped my chin.
“Open your eyes,” he growled.
I didn’t know why he wanted me to open my eyes, but acting on pure instinct, I squeezed them tighter shut. His claws dug into my skin, and the metallic tang of blood filled the air.
“Open your eyes,” he said quieter, but his malice was unmistakable.
Tears leaked down my face, and I was sobbing in gasps of breath through my teeth, but I didn’t open my eyes.
“You want to play games, love?” he crooned, caressing my face with the tips of his claws. “We can play games.”
He tore his way into my memories again, leaving me screaming in agony, but he was moving slower like something was holding him back.
“You think you can hide anything from me?” His mocking laugh filled my head again. “I will find you, Ember, whether or not you cooperate.”
I sensed the crack reappear, but I forced myself not to react.
The half dose was leaving my system much faster, and he didn’t seem to know anything was different.
I waited until he seemed distracted by one of my memories of Dune, and then I fled.
He realized what I was doing too late, and his furious voice screaming my name was the last thing I heard before I bolted upright in the real world again.
Beside me, Vulture was half-conscious, grinning at the ceiling with glassy eyes.
I barely managed to lean off the bed before I was sick, shaking like a leaf.
I knew I needed to take care of the mess before Juck came back, or he’d add more bruises, but I could only lay there, sprawled on my stomach half off the bed, gasping in frantic breaths of air that left me lightheaded for what felt like forever.
Finally, the terror faded enough for me to crawl over to Vulture and curl against him.
He didn’t even notice my presence, but I didn’t care.
I just desperately wanted to feel the comfort of another person.
Mac’s emotions felt like a thundercloud in my head, but I frantically grabbed the final memory I needed to show him and yanked it up to play through my head.
I was lying in Juck’s bed again, struggling to breathe through the pain in my chest. Tears slowly leaked down my face.
Juck was talking to someone, but I had trouble concentrating enough to hear it.
I wondered if Vulture was still alive. I doubted it.
I remembered Rally’s face twisted in pain, the horrible screams that had ripped from him, and the blood ? —
Juck suddenly appeared above me, and I tensed, biting back a cry of pain at the movement. He stared at me silently for a while, and the swell of fear made me dizzy.
“You in pain, Angel?” he finally asked.
I didn’t know how he wanted me to answer that, making me even more panicked. Did he want me to say yes so he knew he’d successfully punished me? Or did he want me to say no so we could move on and never speak of this again?
When he suddenly sat on the bed beside me, I flinched, and more tears slid out of my eyes. He leaned forward and raised a hand. I tried to brace myself, but his hand just gently brushed my hair from my face.
“You know this hurts me even more than it hurts you, right?”
I didn’t know how to answer that question, either. I clenched my trembling fists at my sides.
“I promised I’d protect you. You remember that?” His hand stroked down my face so gently. “When I found you wanderin’ in the desert?”
I managed a tiny, terrified nod.
“This is me protectin’ you, Angel. You’re mine, and I’m not gonna let anybody else touch you.”
Vulture had to be dead.
He leaned down and kissed me, his lips rough and possessive on mine. My stomach churned, but I automatically kissed him back, a reflex he’d ingrained into me with pain. He smelled like blood and smoke. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling sick with despair and pain.
“It’s alright. I forgive you,” he murmured. “I’m gonna get you some medicine.”
My eyes popped open. He was pulling back and standing, heading for the small lockbox that held a couple narcs.
“Juck,” I choked out shakily, “please don’t. I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”
He removed one of the vials, his expression patronizing. “Angel, you don’t have to be brave. Let me take care of you.”
“I’m really okay. Please. Please, Juck, I don’t want a narc.” More helpless tears were rolling down my face.
He approached the bed, prepping the needle and ignoring me. I managed to get an arm out from under the covers and hold it up, begging him to stop as pain from the movement screamed through me.
“Please, Juck!” I was sobbing now. “I don’t want it! Please stop!”
He easily pinned my arm under his knee, injecting the needle into my shoulder, still smiling as I tried to fight. “It’s alright, Angel. I’m gonna take care of you.”
I tried to brace myself and be strong like Wolf would want, but I crumbled into pieces instead. I felt the shadow man appear and stand next to where I lay curled in a ball, sobbing. He didn’t move for so long I thought maybe he’d left. Then, a hand ghosted over my arm.
“What have they done to you?” he growled.
The darkness seemed to surround me, gently cradling me and turning my body to reveal the “J” burning painfully on my chest. I felt his shock and then his growing fury.