43. Vera
Vera
FIVE YEARS AGO
Kane Scarven slipped inside the laboratory and shut the door.
His massive frame overshadowed Mortep’s, and his slick, brown hair looked greasy under the torchlight.
Those piercing eyes found mine as his smile widened.
“Good morning, Vera,” he said in a deep, commanding voice. “It’s been a long time.”
Why was he here? I hadn’t seen the governor of Drakorum since they captured me two years ago. His presence couldn’t mean anything good.
“Mortep has told me of your developments.” He slowly circled the chair I sat in, a lion assessing its prey. My muscles clenched involuntarily. “All six magics, at long last. Incredible.”
I stayed silent. Whatever this meant, whatever they wanted from me, they’d have to fight for it.
“Show me.” Scarven tilted his chin. “Stride across the room.”
I looked up at him through narrow eyes, swallowed hard, and spat at his feet.
Mortep moved toward me with a needle, but Scarven held up a hand to stop him.
“You have the Duma spirit, I must admit,” he said with a chuckle, circling me again.
“You get that from your mother. Your father was never quite as strong.” He was at my back now, but I didn’t dare move.
His breath washed over the side of my neck when he whispered, “He barely put up a fight. It was far too easy to rip his head off with my bare teeth.”
My stomach clenched. I gripped the arms of the chair, chest tight, breath quivering like a bowstring. Scarven leaned in closer, until his lips grazed my skin. “Your mother was harder, but I still broke her in the end.”
I snapped. With a snarl, I whirled to face him, fire igniting along my arms. “What did you do to her, you piece of—”
In a flash, his hand cracked across my cheek. Pain ricocheted through my head as it snapped to the side. I hissed, sucking in a breath and tasting the coppery tang of blood.
He wanted to see my magic? Fine.
My striding power was still new to me, but it settled in my chest next to the others, purring and ready to be used.
I imagined myself several feet across the room, then tugged on my magic.
It pressed in from all sides, compacting my bones until I disappeared into nothingness and reappeared on the other side of the laboratory.
Before Mortep or Scarven could react, I summoned my shadows and light, throwing it back at them in a blast of power. They sailed through the air and crashed into the stone wall.
Stalking forward, I forced my shadows into ropes and wrapped them around their necks, pulling tight enough to choke.
But my victory was short-lived. With a rasp, Mortep put his own blood on his tongue and whispered a spell.
Vines came out of nowhere and clutched my throat, my hands, and my feet, lifting me in the air until my head crashed into the ceiling.
Thorns sprang from the vines and pierced my skin.
Grunting back my pain, I watched, helpless, as drops of my blood sprinkled the ground.
With a growl, Scarven got to his feet and smoothed out his jacket, quickly composing himself. “Let her down.”
Mortep’s vines released me, and I slammed to the ground. My nose crunched against the stone. My Shifter healing kicked in, and the pinpricks in my skin stitched themselves together as my nose cracked back into place.
Scarven lifted me by the throat. “Mere pain isn’t enough to get through to you, is it?” he murmured. With his other hand, he snapped his fingers at Mortep, who appeared at his side. “Show her.”
The Alchemist whispered another spell, and flames ignited on the ground.
Within the smoke rising from the blaze was a cloudy vision.
I was staring at someone’s back. I could tell it was a man, but couldn’t see a face.
He stood in a cell, knees on the ground, with one of Scarven’s lion-masked guards next to him.
A sword was poised at the man’s neck. His arms were tied behind his back, and I caught a glimpse of a scar on his forearm.
72.
Swift. I thrashed in Scarven’s grip, panic burning through every cell, every muscle, every thought. “Don’t—hurt him—” I gurgled, barely able to breathe with his fingers digging into my neck.
“That is entirely up to you,” he said. “Why do you think we’ve kept him alive? He has no use for us but to control you, my phoenix.” Lowering me to the ground, he finally released his hold. I gripped my throat and sucked in lungfuls of air.
“Do we understand each other?” Scarven said, brushing dirt off his shoulder.
“Y-yes,” I stammered. “Just don’t hurt him. I’ll do whatever you want.”
He smiled, teeth gleaming. “That’s a good girl. Now, sit down.”
I staggered to the chair, still seeing that sword at Swift’s neck with every blink. Had that been real, or just a mirage? Mortep was also an Illusionist. He could make me see anything he wanted, real or not. This could all be a big ploy.
But I wasn’t willing to take the chance.
I stayed still as Mortep strapped me to the chair, then raised a needle. “Perhaps an immobilizing serum, just to be sure.”
The cold shock of the serum surged through me, coating me in icy numbness.
One by one, my limbs fell like dead weight, succumbing to the potion.
I watched, unable to move, as he took another syringe off the table in the center of the laboratory.
This one was filled with black liquid, and golden threads glowed throughout it, like pulsing veins.
“You’re positive this one will work?” Scarven asked.
“I adjusted the dosages of vireroot and blue vervain to account for any unwanted side effects,” Mortep replied. He flicked the vial with his middle finger. “She won’t remember a thing. Unless we want her to.”
Scarven’s lips curved upward. “Perfect.”
Mortep pushed the needle tip into the crook of my arm.
I expected pain—that was what usually came with these tests.
Icy and sharp, or searing like flames, or bone-crushingly heavy.
Sometimes my magic would turn on itself, tearing me up from the inside as it fought off the intruding source.
Other times it would make me pass out altogether, and I’d wake up back in my cell.
But this one…this one felt different. Because I didn’t feel anything at all. A weightlessness floated through me, like I was soaring on a cloud. My mind went pleasantly foggy. It was almost as if I was drifting off to sleep.
“Go ahead, my lord,” I heard Mortep say, but it was distant and murky.
Then one voice, one rich, loud, crystal clear voice broke through. “Vera,” Scarven boomed, although his lips didn’t move. I could feel his voice, his presence, in my mind.
I could sense physical parts, like his heartbeat and pulse, but also…him. His emotions. His desires. His commands. They settled into me like a second skin, and I couldn’t tell where mine ended and his began.
“You have been so good, Vera,” his disembodied voice said. Pleasure and pride surged through me, both my own and his—they were one and the same, two layers floating together on the fringes of my mind. “As a reward, we’re going to let you move again. But you mustn’t fight back.”
Fight back? Why would I fight? If he didn’t want me to, I didn’t want to, either.
A moment later, the immobilization was lifted. I sucked in a deep breath, rolling my head along my shoulders as the tension left my body.
“Break out of your restraints.”
With barely a thought, I summoned my phoenix fire and burned through the leather cuffs binding me to the chair. I shook them off and saw a strange line of black running through the veins on my arm, almost like ink. A warning prodded at the back of my mind.
But Scarven’s voice vibrated through me again, and I stood to face him, my thoughts going blank once more.
“Pick up the knife.” His lips still weren’t moving. He pointed to a shiny dagger on the edge of the laboratory table, and I grabbed the hilt. “Stab your leg.”
I didn’t have to think twice. I plunged the blade into my thigh. I gasped as the pain registered, but it was muted. Hidden, almost, behind a wall of Scarven’s emotions. I would rather do what he wanted than give in to my own discomfort.
Another warning blared through me, making my brow furrow. This wasn’t normal. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. And Fates, my leg hurt. This was—
“Mortep,” Scarven snapped, out loud this time. The Alchemist hovered closer and stuck another needle into my skin.
I blinked as my mind went supple again. My shoulders dropped, and I released the hilt of the dagger, letting it stick out of my leg as blood dripped to the ground.
“Good, Vera. Now, there are a few more things I need you to do.”