AN: I'm back…again. Lol. Enjoy!
The pain that throbbed in his head was dull, but it popped along his temples regardless in an irritating manner. Bran cracked his eyes open slowly, groaning with the small effort.
"Bran Maxwell, you idiot," he scolded himself, remembering the events that led to his unconscious state. Jackal, invading his perfect moment with Sian. His jumping onto the bed. Staring in his eyes… Shit! Jackal had forced him to sleep to bring him, where, Nefandus again?
Did that mean he was now…?
Bran closed his eyes again, rolling over on the bed. Jackal—the bastard!—had brought him back to his place of slavery. He didn't want to feel like her did: terrified, docile, and used as a means.
But…Where was Sian? The question brought him out of his induced stupor as he dragged himself up to a sitting position. "Sian…"
The dimly lit chamber didn't answer back, but, then, he wasn't really expecting it to. He wasn't expecting Sian to be in the same room as him. If she was really Evelyn's daughter, and since she had such a power, she would be welcomed into the fold, even if her family was hunting the Atrox. He, however, would always be a servus, a dirty slave.
Bran felt cold, terrified, and alone. Did this make him less of a man for feeling like such a little boy? Now that he had been with Sian, talked with her and touched her, he couldn't just lose her.
He howled with rage, flinging himself off the cot-like bed. "Sian!"
XXXXX
Meanwhile, as Bran destroyed the room he had been locked inside, consumed by his rage, Sian was with Evelyn, her shaky hands holding onto a hot cup of chamomile tea—for relaxation, Evelyn said. She tried to keep her hands still, but her nerves were completely fried. My God, this is my mother.
Evelyn flickered her brilliant smile at Sian before sipping some of her own tea. There were alone now, to talk. Sian was scared. She didn't have Bran with her—the girl, Rayne, had taken him away after Jackal was sent away—and now even Jackal, who wasn't exactly a source of comfort but made sure no one touched her, was gone. That smile, thought, made Sian feel so much better about herself.
"I know you probably hate me," Evelyn whispered, her eyes a stormy gray as she peered over the tea cup at her daughter.
"I…Hate is a strong word," Sian replied, shaking her head briskly. She frowned, summoning up her emotions concerning her long-lost mother. "Abandoned. Hurt. Those are better words."
Evelyn sighed, putting her cup down. "They are good. Those emotions help us choose."
"Choose?" Sian asked, confused.
"Who we turn, who we steal hope from." Evelyn turned her head to the side, seeming to size up Sian's reaction.
Sian took a deep breath. Would her own mother turn her? Maybe. Did she want to be turned to the Atrox? Again, maybe. She could be with Evelyn the, and she could be with Bran.
"I see."
Reaching across the table, Evelyn grasped Sian's hand, squeezing it. Sian gasped, shocked at the little bit of intimacy between mother and daughter. "While I can't lay out everything for you, I can tell you this: It is your choice whether or not to join the Atrox."
Sian sipped the tea slowly. It was warm and sweet, refreshing on her parched throat. It soothed her nerves some as it settled nice and hot in her stomach. She watched Evelyn, unsure of what she should say to the statement.
"You want me to convert?"
"I promise you, it's not as bad as they say. I will explain everything to you. I will tell you everything you wish to know," Evelyn promised, her eyes twinkling in the candlelight. It was too good to be true.
"Everything?" Sian breathed, her face open in child-like innocence. Her mother. Evelyn was amazing.
"Of course." Evelyn could not moss the worship growing apparent in her daughter's eyes. "I can't right now, but I'm sure you don't want to talk anyway."
"No, that's not true. Please," the girl pleaded.
"No. For now, silence is key. You need a nice bath and a change of clothes." Evelyn snapped her fingers, smiling at Sian.
Rayne came into the room on the sound. Her light fingers squeezed Sian's arm tightly, pulling the bewildered girl up. "Come on now, girlie."
"I…Uh…Mm," Sian sighed, following the tattooed girl out of the room. She turned to look back at her mother, but she had already disappeared.
XXXXX
The bath water was scented, but Sian couldn't put her finger on the exact scent. It wafted up to her nose, enveloping her as she sank into the water. Hot water that sloshed away particles of dirt and blood from her skin and heated her tense muscles. Her mother was right; she needed this bath now.
How lucky could she be? God. Evelyn was amazing. She was smart and beautiful and wanted to have her around. How was that for absolute perfection?
"Rayne…Rayne!" Sian called out, turning her head on the ceramic tub to look at the large door.
"What? Finished already?" Rayne called back through the door.
"Um, no. I want to know where Bran is. Can you bring him here?"
"To your bath?"
"Of course," Sian replied, sighing into the water. She wouldn't have asked for him otherwise.
She heard noise outside the door and then silence ensued. Her eyes stayed trained on the door, waiting.
"Rayne! Rayne! Where is he? Bring Bran to me! Bring him here!" She screamed, throwing her head back to howl at the tattooed Follower. She was throwing a tantrum now, but it didn't matter. He mattered. And she needed to know that he was okay.
"Quit that! You sound like a child screaming for her lost toy. You, get in there before she does something like gouge her pretty eyes out," Rayne hissed.
A moment later, the door was opened, and the figure of Bran stepped through the threshold. She smiled leisurely up at him as the door was shut behind him, but it soon faded away at the new marks on him. Cuts and bruises, blood and that old scar of his marred his skin.
"Bran!" A fire smoldered and lit up in her, seeing him such a state. And where was she while this was happening? Fawning over her dear mother.
Bran waved a dismissive hand at her. "It's okay. It looks a lot worse than it feels."
She sat up in the tub, leaning over its side and beckoned him forward. "Who did this to you?"
He saw the look in her eyes, the way they darkened so quickly and was reminded strongly of Evelyn. Evelyn was already influencing her. Of course, the lecta didn't get where she was by being quiet and submissive.
"No one. I did this to myself. They had me…locked up again," he admitted, staring at his destructive hands. "It won't be long now before they begin drugging me again."
"Drugging you?" Sian squeaked, appalled at the thought. Bran had told her the night before how servi stayed obedient. "They won't!"
He sat next to the tub, his face tired and pinched with worry. Taking her wet hand, he lightly traced it with his lips, trying to live the moment forever. "You have no say here, Sian. You're nothing in Nefandus."
"But…Evelyn—"
"Will never let me go. I am her property."
She growled, wrenching her hand away from him. "You're not property, Bran! You're not!"
"As far as they're concerned, I am. That is the way of the followers of evil. Do you get that?" His voice was sharp and cut her deep because, no, she didn't get that.
Why wouldn't Evelyn let Bran be with her?
He cupped the back of her head, letting his fingers get tangled up in her wet hair. Their foreheads connected as he rested against her. "I can see you're not getting it, Sian."
"It's hard. I mean, she's my mother. I know she cares about me! She wouldn't take you away!" Sian exclaimed, defending her mother to the fullest.
She watched him close his eyes, a funny sound whistling through his lips. Damn, Sian. What is this blind spot you've just developed?"
Slowly, she found his mouth, kissing away the growing numbness pitted in her gut. She wasn't blind; he was just wrong.
XXXXX
Dakota spent the third night Sian was missing in her room. He was curled up in her unmade bed, staring at the few knick-knacks she had bothered to unpack. On the night stand next to the bed was a framed picture of the family. Not the large family, the clan that he consulted like a good little extension of it, but their family. Her dad, his mom, and the two of them, holding each other's little hands in the comfort of innocence.
They were so cute then. Two lost kids getting used to the missing parent now thrust into their lives, and all they had was each other to really depend on.
Dakota's heart ached for her to be around again. It ached for her to come home so that they could be a family. It wasn't a love that was between two people that was physical. Sure, he wasn't going to deny that he succumbed to a certain lust directed towards the girl, but the feeling of absolute missing, that was because he just lost his little sister. He promised his parents that he'd take care of Sian, and now she was gone.
Why had she run away? Was it because of what was happening, him pushing her away, consulting the family? Did she leave home because of her power hiding deep in her?
It wasn't weak for a man to cry. This was why he turned over and let his tears soak her pillow. Sian was the only true family he had left now.
The cell phone in his hand went off, chiming its loud ring. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. By the tone, he knew it wasn't Sian. Over and over, he tried to call her, but all he got was this weird buzzing noise emitted by the phone.
"Hello Carol?" He spoke into the phone, hoping his voice didn't betray his tears.
"Well, I guess it's safe to assume she hasn't returned," Carol deduced, her voice like steel.
Dakota never did understand the role Carol played, but he knew enough to be afraid of the woman.
"You would know."
"You're getting rough with me, too. Lovely," Carol commented dryly.
"Quite. If you knew she wouldn't be here, why bother calling me, Carol?"
"A warning. Don't listen to the girls, Dakota. You listen to me. Don't listen to the girls."
"What girls?" Dakota asked, confused. He didn't have any girls talking to him, and he didn't understand how this dealt with Sian.
"Just follow my advice, okay? It won't do you any good to listen to them" Carol repeated, her voice harsher.
"Yeah, Okay, Carol. I get it," he told her, nodding his head even though she couldn't see him. He pressed the end button, threw the phone across the floor, and curled up.
Heavy banging woke him up later, raising him out of a restless sleep. Growling and glaring at a wall, he stepped out of Sian's bed. The banging persisted as he got closer to the font door, and now he could hear muffled voices outside of it that were definitely female. They buzzed, partially excited, mostly worried, but they held vital information. He felt all that on them.
Opening the door, he was confronted with four girls: a blonde, a Hispanic, and two brunettes. The girls Sian had been hanging out with recently.
"You're Sian's brother, right?" The Hispanic asked, stepping forward and taking charge.
"I'm Dakota," he confirmed, gripping his front door.
"We think we know where Sian is," she continued. "You might want to sit down for this."
Next Up: Dakota agrees to a dangerous mission, and Sian learns what her true fate within the Atrox is about to be.