Dani
I stretch my hand and snatch the amulet from Christian. Disgusted, I throw it to the side and the clattering echoes dully in my chest. Suddenly, the whole world seems to have slowed down, and, for the first time in my life, I get the feeling I had finally stopped, and can actually notice the world around. Christian stares at me intensely, but there is no desire in me to look back and see my reflection in him. I know what I look like. And I hate it. The amulet still rolls slowly on the floor. I grit my teeth and the dull ache in my chest increases.
"You reek of him." Christian is still framing me. I can feel his face, close. "Everywhere."
My eyes unwillingly shift to him. His are still black. There is a full Unseelie Prince in front of me, with no trace of humanity left.
"Move away, Christian. I want to dress up." I have no intention of touching him. At this moment I don't want to touch anyone. Maybe never again. Perhaps only Ryodan, at least once more – while pulling his heart out… with fingers. It will be pretty well-deserved.
Christian doesn't move. I hold my gaze on him and try to infuse determination and threat.
"Move it, Christian, I'm serious."
He leans in slowly and presses lips on my ear. Fingers gently tracing my neck.
"How the fuck did you let him do that to you…" His palm slides in my hair and rotates the wound on the neck towards him. "Fuck! Lass, I suggest you clean off yourself well and get that stench away from you, before I do it for you."
His voice is low and gruff. With a violent jerk, he tears himself off me, throws me a chilled look, and, clenching teeth, stalks off the room, slamming the door behind.
The crush of the door vibrates in the silence and resonates deep in me. With weakened heart, I close eyes and rest head on the wall, as my body sinks slowly to the ground. Halfway to the floor I catch myself and try to pour fury and strength in me. I don't fall. I don't slide down. Pressing palms at my knees, I dig fingers deep and still myself half-standing. I don't cry.
Later I leave the shower and wrap a big, fluffy robe around my heated body. I rarely allow myself the pleasure of wasting time in the shower, however this time I needed it. I've spent what it felt like an hour under the burning flow of the water. Not thinking. The emotions were too strong and had I attempt to process any of it right away – well, I'm not sure I want to go there. I needed to cool off before any thoughts on the last few days. People rarely appreciate the mastery of blanked mind. It requires immense discipline to maintain, and when spending good share of the time concentrating on nothing – the mind numbs out and the heart chills.
I carefully unwrap the towel around my head and let the hair fall gently around my shoulders. I stretch hand and wipe the steamed mirror. The face that meets me across is cold, and yet painfully familiar. My eyes slide over the features and greedily take in details. The hair curls softly around my face. It's clean and smooth. The corners of my lips twitch shortly and my gaze remains there, attracted by the move. I miss my bruises.
I am someone I haven't been for a long time. The feeling is… liberating, purifying. All possibilities are in front of me and any choice is possible. There is nothing obligatory or binding in any of the following decisions. In some unexplainable way, the aftermath of everything that had happened boils down to the full reassurance that I am who I am. Always have been and always will be. And I am not sure I would've been capable of accepting this had I not spent the last one hour in full alienation of the reality.
I close my eyes and, now that I can finally trust my mind, I submerge myself carefully in the memories, looking at every single detail slowly. At the same time I remain fully detached, as if I am just a side visitor. The sociopathic presence feels easy and familiar. Strange thing is – it does not leave me cold or indifferent. Actually it makes me smile. I've spent the last few weeks in a fear of losing myself. Losing Jada. Now I realize that the fear was unreasonable. She is me. And I am her. We are two parts of a whole. And even though we've spent years resenting and rejecting each other's weaknesses – now I see we were never truly able to exist in the absence of the other. The only problem was in accepting this other part of me, claiming it as the anti-me. Evil presence. Taking over of what's mine. But I am her. And she – me. And we are one. And only when taken together, I finally can clearly see myself.
My eyes open and the reflection in the mirror beams at me with a radiant smile.
In this perfect moment of emotional detachment, I am fully able of admitting truths to myself, even if I don't like them one bit. Ryodan did this. My smile melts down. The honesty of this realization, does nothing for my anger. Manipulation is his second name. I hate him for that. From all the ways he could have chosen… Warmth spreads across my face and I stiffly turn back to my reflection, ignoring the light blush on my cheeks.
There is a pile of female clothes, carelessly thrown at the end of the bed, in the room where Christian sifted me. I dig through it and pull practical things, like jeans and t-shirt.
The place looks massive and I have the feeling there must be a whole mansion out here. Quickly, I scan my mind for all the known places like this in and around Dublin, and try to estimate my most-likely location. Wherever it is, I know I'll have to vacate it sooner or later, should I wish to avoid unexpected clashes with my ex-boss. And that's something I definitely wish for. I sneaker. Dude! I've missed work for years!
I leave the room and start stalking slowly around the place, looking for Christian. Oh, yes, I was definitely correct – this is some seriously big house. Too big for my taste, truth to be said. Such places are easy and open target. I suspect, Christian had taken precautions and had warded it off from anything that could be a threat. Still I would rather take nothing for granted. So I cover the whole terrain methodically, not missing a single detail, collecting useful information. Indeed, the place is fully protected. Question is though – from whom?
Christian is nowhere to be seen. Three floors of expensive, enormous rooms – and no sign of life what so ever. The silence is deafening. Suddenly my body tenses and my muscles root me at one spot. There is something. I relax my hearing and wait. There it is again. Barely perceivable sound, almost a weak vibration, coming straight from underneath me. My eyes drop and I listen harder. Whatever it is – it is buried deep underground. I suspect the mansion has a basement somewhere. With no intention of giving up the advantage of the element of surprise, I shift gears abruptly and wheeze into freeze-frame.
The entrance to the cellar is hidden behind a heavy bookshelf on the first floor. The light breeze of cool moist from behind the shelf betrayed it. Long, narrow stairs spiral down at least two-three levels below ground and, as I reach the bottom, an unpleasant feeling chills me. The slight sound from before had grown with each step, and now, being on equal levels, I can finally tell what it is. A pitiful female moan slowly rolls in the barely lit corridor, and, with a sour taste in my mouth, I recall the last time I've ended up in Christian's settlement. Dude! I really need to kick his butt!
The source of noise comes from the end of the tunnel, possible behind several walls. Sneaking up close to it proved to be more challenging than I've anticipated. Obviously Christian had taken great pains into ensuring little to none access to the woman. Gritting teeth, I go over the last protection spell and plaster myself to a thick stone wall in front of me. A slight crevice in the bricks indicates the presence of a masked stone door. I still for a second in doubt, though I choose to attribute it to self-preservation. I definitely do not want to die today and here, being stupid. The moan rolls sadly again. Miserable and full of yearning. Animal craving. Intimate and private. I still embarrassed in even more doubt. Is Christian here? With this woman? I definitely do not want to walk in on that scenario. I listen again. The whine breaks out again, low, aching. I don't hear anyone else. Christian isn't here. But why the woman is? I look around. Except for the woman behind the wall – there is no one around. Darkness and silence. I cannot go back. There is no way I can leave someone, locked here in this basement.
With a careful push I open the door and step inside.
The room is in an obvious contrast with the rest of the basement. Warm and mildly lit with candles – it's decorated as a bedroom. The floor is layered with a thick, soft carpet and all corners are covered with big, puffy pillows. Straight ahead of me is a massive, king-size bed, surrounded by silky canopy. Behind the curtains I can recognize a small female body, slowly twisting on the sheets. The woman is alone. The heat that throws of her is incredible – I half-expect her to ignite. Is she sick? Why is she here?
She lets a small moan out again, and a sickening feeling of unwanted déjà vu overwhelms me.
"Hey? Are you alright?" I ask carefully. Please don't let it be what I think it is!
The woman flinches and jerks up like on a string. The next moment the canopy is pulled aside and with a savage yell, a naked girl, not older than me, throws herself at me. The only reason she managed to push me down is the surprise. I immediately roll her away and lock her wrists to the ground, trying to avoid her insane attempts of scratching or biting me.
"Calm down, you crazy? I just wanted to see if you're okay! Stop it, before I hurt ýa!"
The girls hears nothing and continues to twists wildly under me. I try to see if she's hurt or at least what's the reason for her behavior. But besides looking a little too slim and in the middle of a bad fever – overall I find nothing too wrong with her body.
"Stop it!" I yell too and squeeze her wrists stronger.
It startles her for a second and I manage to catch a glimpse of her face, before she begins to swivel head again. The terror in it chills me. I cannot believe…
Two strong arms suddenly manacle me and pull me away from the girl. Before I manage to react, I am thrown aside to the floor, few steps away. The moment I stop rolling, I'm back on my feet and jump at Christian, who's bending over the crying girl.
"You sick fecker! Don't you touch her!"
I toss myself on his back and wrap a hand around his neck. The girl lets a pitchy scream out and digs her nails in my forearm. I scream too. Christian curses and pushes me back with a powerful blow. The only reason my skull didn't split in two is because the carpet is like four fingers thick.
"Stay away, lass! You might hurt her!"
"I might hurt her?! You've done it already, you fecking fecker! How could you?!" I'm shaking. I cannot believe this.
"I've done nothing!" he has to scream over the girl, who now howls deafening, hands wrapped around his neck, slashing with nails the air between them and me.
"You think I'm an idiot, Christian? She's pri-ya!" my throat burns. Rage boils through every pore of my body. I'm gonna kill him! I cannot believe he's done it. "You're just like them! I cannot believe I thought you are normal!"
Christian cups gently the nape of the girl and presses her close to him, turning to face me. My heart slams in my chest franticly, demanding violence. My palms are in fists. The only reason I'm not killing him is the girl plastered to him.
"I'm not like them and never will be." His voice is cold, scary. The girl in his hands suddenly shivers and abruptly stops yelling. "I didn't make her this way. I found her like that."
"So you took her to toy with her?" I cannot stand her fear at his voice. Noone has the right to own anybody. "Dude. You are sick."
His hand strokes tenderly the back of her neck and I feel like puking.
"Stop touching her, you fucker!" I hiss with resentment.
"I can't! She's in constant pain! And to add to that – you scared her. You have no idea what's in her head…" his voice is hoarse and dry. His eyes are empty.
"Oh, and you know..."
"I feel her!" he hisses. "Every bloody need, emotion! The pain and desire are killing her! What do you want me to do? Leave her like this? Or kill her? Tell me what other idea you've got!"
"I…" my teeth clench. The memory of Mac surfaced the moment I saw her face. The primitive lust. Lack of any conscious. The hunger for touch and the constant pain of its lack. Pri-ya. Monstrous thing to be. Death sounds million times sweeter. And still – can I really make such call? Mac made it through. There must be hope for this girl too.
He cradles her gently in his arms and watches me tensely.
"I need to calm her. Then we can talk."
I nod perplexedly and look away. With the periphery of my sight I catch his moves. Christian slides carefully hands across the back of the girl and she shivers. But this is no fear. Her head lifts from his shoulder and with starved look turns towards his. Cupping her cheek with one hand, Christian leans in slowly and covers her lips in a deep kiss. She moans low and presses to him. Her body softens against him and hangs in his hands. He deepens the kiss, and burning heat surfaces on my cheeks. His lips part finally from hers and she immediately makes a sound of protest. But Christian holds her closer and whispers sleeping spells in her ear. Eventually the girl relaxes and hangs fully on his hands.
I lift gaze at them and meet the frozen face of Christian, as he carries her to the bed and tenderly covers her with blankets. I don't miss the slight touch of his thumb on her cheek, nor the small tremble in him.
With bleak expression he heads towards the exit and nods at me to follow, without even looking. I do, quietly. As I step out of the room, I cannot help myself but to look back at the small body in the middle of the bed. Christian closes the stone door right under my nose and stalks off to the upper floors.
We reach the living room in complete silence. The moment he turns to me, I already know that I was wrong to accuse him of being a monster. His eyes meet mine, and my heart flinches. He thinks he's being that monster.
"Christian…"
"Save it, lass," he cuts me. "I am sick bastard and you shouldn't try to make me feel better. In fact…"
His face twists in resenting grimace and his hand lifts my chin up.
"I expected more of you. But clearly I shouldn't have high expectations of a woman ready to let Ryodan use her, like his next pair of socks. At least the girl in my dungeon is pri-ya. You have no excuses."
My lips form tight line and I push his hand with one move.
"The amulet…"
"…does not create feelings out of nothing. Only illusion of reality." His eyes are piercing me. "Everything you felt was real. You have no right to deny it. You want to give yourself to him for breakfast – both then and now."
"No!"
"Lie."
I look away annoyed. Well, that was straight into the trap.
"Shall we test it, if you don't believe me?" Christian pulls a chain from around his neck and uncovers the amulet.
I narrow my eyes.
"You wear this why."
He looks at me for long moment and finally grits his teeth.
"I'm able to make her sleep with it from time to time."
We look at each other for another long moment.
"Prove it to me."
His nostrils flare.
"What?"
"That the amulet does not create feelings." I don't want to accept this truth.
He cocks his head in that non-human way, like trying to decide what to make of me.
"You want me to use to amulet on you? After what Ryodan did? And after what you've seen in my basement? Ah, lass…"
"Save it, Christian." I don't let him do it. "No need to act all ass-like, just because you feel shit-size guilty. Yes, what you're doing with that girl is absolutely wrong. But it helps her…"
He hisses and manacles my shoulders.
"You think so? How the hell do you think it helps her?! The only thing I do is to postpone the agony for later… How long am I supposed to… Fuck. You have no idea, lass..."
"Of course I do! I've watched Mac with these same eyeballs, as she thrusted and moaned and pleaded for days. And for a moment there I also thought there is no way back from this hell. But Mac made it. So it's possible."
Christian stares me blankly. His grip loosens.
"Mac was pri-ya?" the shock in his voice is unmasked.
"You didn't know?" I retort incredulously. No wonder he feels so guilty and desperate.
"No…" Christian walks away a little and begins pacing in small circle. His eyes are wide. All Unseelie is suddenly gone and there is a hunky, worried, high-lander in front of me. "When did that… how the hell did she recover!"
He turns and pulls me to him again.
"Tell me, lass!"
"Barrons." I mutter, watching his face. "Doing exactly, what you are doing. There is hope, Christian."
He stares at me for a moment and shakes his head. Next rubs his face tired and runs fingers through his hair.
"You want to tell me that the only way is to continue doing what I've been doing so far? For how long? Christ, lass… she wouldn't chose something like that, had she been given the choice."
"All methods – good, Christian. There is no price too high for surviving."
I look at him coolly and suddenly realize that this is exactly what Ryodan had done for me too. And even though I, just like Christian fears, hate him for the way he chose to do it – part of me remains grateful that someone cared enough, to roll up the sleeve and do the dirty work. Christian tries to comprehend my words. The guilt is eating him up and for a moment I cannot help but wonder – did Ryodan felt the same way? I shake head and shrug at the thought. No way. As if. That fecker probably doesn't even know how to spell the word. I don't remember him experiencing any conflicts while doing the "dirty work."
"Don't do this, lass." Christian is watching me closely again. "Don't try to excuse him. It's completely different situation. You were entitle of choice. He just chose to make it for you."
But I didn't know about the choice. Isn't it really very similar situation? Ryodan couldn't have possibly tell me what tricks he's using to make me re-surface again, simply because that was the trick. I frown. I don't want to defend him.
"Ouch, lass…"
Christian traces me with his warm gaze and touches lightly my face.
"Don't tell me you have feelings for him…"
"I don't!" I bite my tongue, but it's too late. No, don't tell me.
Christian tightens his lips and I see something shimmering in his eyes.
""Fix your face, Christian! I don't need no petty pity! You have no idea what I've been through the last five years…"
"Aye, lass. I don't. But I do know one thing. The last two month, I've been gutted monotonously for hours and days, bleeding to loss of consciousness, waking up from needles piercing my gut… Judging by what I've endured – I must be completely mad by now. However I managed to retain enough of myself to come back."
I stay quiet. This also is my fault.
Christian slides fingers in my hair and looks into my eyes with his golden gaze.
"Do you know how I managed?"
I slice head to the side barely.
"You, lass. You anchored me to sanity. The thought of something bright and alive. The need to survive, the hope to survive, so you could take in some more of that golden fire of life. The thirst for one more sip of this pure energy. You, lass, were all this for me."
I stare at him, still.
"Christian, I…"
He laughs and let goes of me.
"Naw, lass. I don't expect you to answer me with something like that. There was time – when I did. But now I see, that all this has completely different meaning to me too. What you make me feel is so dear and precious, precisely because it's a part of me too. Part I thought I have lost forever. All this maddened thirst for life in you, used to run in my veins too. For a time I've lost it, lass. I thought I'd never be the one who I so deeply longed to become again. But you reminded me how to be that person and how not to lose it again."
He's few steps away from me, the sunlight falls softly on his face. The warmth reflected on him is mesmerizing.
"Tell me, lass. These five years – did you have anyone like that in your mind or heart? Someone who kept you going. Someone who made you survive, even when you didn't want to."
I look at him, careful not to move, drinking in his expression, his words. My thoughts have already raced away from me, in inhuman lands, filled with alien creatures. Yes. I had such a person. And even though he's neither light nor pure – the need of seeing him again (even if for the sake of revenge) was all I had left. It was in the decision to stand up and go on, every time I was push on my knees, bleeding and feeling more alone than ever. It was the only reason I managed to come back. And now – he was also the reason I managed to find way back to myself as well.
"How the hell did you find me and get me out of there, Christian?" I change topic abruptly.
Christian smiles lightly and nods unperceptively. The atmospheres suddenly lightens and we go back to safe ground.
"Your … friend helped me."
"Dancer?"
"Aye. He know where you were and had a plan how to get you out of there. At first I didn't want to hear it, but the kid is bloody persistent."
I bite my cheeks and sneaker. That's Dancer. Always the shit.
"I'd watch out with him, lass." Christian looks suddenly confused. "He… knows too much for just a human."
"Duh! That's because he's not a human!" I beam. "He's a genius."
"No one is so genius…"
"Dancer is."
"… without some serious-ass powerful source of information."
I give him a look.
"Yeah, it's his brain."
Christian gives me the look back.
"If he has a brain…"
I shake head. Everyone is hostile to the unknown. When will they learn?
"So Dancer told you where I am? Where is he now?"
I look around, as if he'd be here.
Christian shrugs.
"No idea. I haven't told him where I'm taking 'ya, just in case if dickhead catches him."
I go still and chilling frost freezes my bone marrow.
"W-what do you mean – if Ryodan catches him? …what does he have to do with Dancer?"
Christian runs eyes over my face and pauses for a second.
"He was with me, Dani…"
I begin to shake my head.
"…when I sifted you out. He was the one who got us in and blew up the distraction bombs."
Shit-shit-shit.
Meaning Ryodan caught him. I dry-swallow. Or rather – the beast that Ryodan turned into moments before Christian snatched my naked ass away from his hands. Shit!