Chapter 22

To say she was torn was an understatement. Would she rather die that go back into slavery, yes. But did she want him to win, no. Right now, though, she felt as paralyzed emotionally as she was physically.

"I can't hold this forever," Malfoy said.

Hermione refused to answer. Perhaps dying because he couldn't hold his grip was the best outcome, but no, he was bringing her back to the roof. Actively taking her life was still something she refused to do. There were other ways. She'd gotten away once. The only thing that had ruined it was him.

How long before he lost interest? A week? Two? Winning was important to him and once he had what he wanted, he lost interest, didn't he? There had to be some kind of agreement she could make him with to let her go at that point.

Then again, maybe he just wanted to torture her to death. He'd just had his chance, and he'd chosen to make her a whore instead. It wasn't as if the concept was new to her. It had been exactly what she'd been with Flint, and she had to some degree embraced it. But that had also been in order to thwart Malfoy.

Why did they play these fucked up games?

"How long?" she asked.

"As long as I want."

"And then what?"

"And then nothing."

He didn't have a plan for afterwards. "I want to be released," she stated.

"At what point has what you want been of any importance?"

His hand gripped her wrist and he pulled her towards the stairs down into the building. Hermione felt panic rise inside her, but she refused to acknowledge it. What was it she feared? Sex with Malfoy? Fear certainly wasn't the right word. Revulsion?

Honestly, it was the subjugation that really agitated her. And sex with Malfoy was just wrong. But what he really wanted was to lord his victory over her. To continually rub it in. She wanted to hit him, but knew he'd imperio her if she attached, and then she would be utterly senseless. He could command her to be anything he wanted, and whatever that was wouldn't be acceptable to her.

Their battle might have changed, but it wasn't over.

Pulling her into a room, he shoved her and then performed a number of charms on her, not bothering to tell her what they were, but she could guess. Why so many?

When he was done, there was silence and Hermione was struggling not to react in some way. It just felt wrong to be there with him, to let him do what he wished. The whole whoring part, she couldn't even grapple with in the context of him. But she had learned that there were times when she just had to go with the flow, and this was, unfortunately, one of those moment.

The awkwardness in the room was palpable. He'd been torturing her not more than half an hour ago, and now she was expected to... Her stomach rolled with unease. Things had shifted really quickly and her mind couldn't keep up. Now she wasn't sure she could do this. What would happen if she refused? As a slave, she didn't have the right to refuse. Her existence was dictated by the kind of relationship she had with the person who owned her. And now that was Malfoy—who she couldn't have the kind of relationship with that she'd had with anyone else. Malfoy was her enemy and always had been.

"Go into the kitchen and stay there," he stated.

Go into the kitchen? Really? Was that where she belonged?

Was it worth defying him? They would fight if she did. The torturing would probably recommence. And the kitchen wasn't the bed, so it was an improvement on where she could be heading.

This was someone else's flat. The kitchen was fully stocked, but she was too nervous and uneasy to eat. But Malfoy didn't follow her and everything was quiet.

Was this the new game, him making her guess what was going to happen next. It was effective in making her feel on edge and upset.

Then again, there was a window here, and a ledge that travelled down the building. She could so easily step outside and slide along it to reach another apartment. What were the chances she could get away?

Mostly likely, it would result in another torture round, but would she forgive herself for not trying? It could be that she actually got away this time. She could hide, really hide, and at some point he would stop looking.

Grabbing a net bag used for vegetables, she packed some food and quietly stepped outside the window. Her heart beat so powerfully as adrenalin coursed through her body. They were on the fourth floor, so Malfoy probably didn't expect she'd try to escape. Or did he think she'd just surrender to him?

Whatever, she thought. Malfoy's mind was a mystery. She would not be able to forgive herself if she didn't try.

The ground looked so far down. One foot wrong and she was dead. If she couldn't get into another apartment, this would be a waste of time. Intermittently, she looked back, worried she'd see his blond head popping out the window, but it didn't, even as she reached the next apartment and managed to slide their window open.

The danger didn't feel over when she slipped inside. Whoever lived there didn't seem to be at home, so she silently walked through the apartment to the door. Peeking out she saw no one in the corridor, half expecting to see him there with his wand drawn, ready to torture her.

As quietly as she could, she slipped outside and ran, not stopping for anything as she made her way down the building and then outside, where she ran as fast as she could. Fast strides pumping her legs, until she was struck by what felt like lightening. It knocked her off her feet and shocked some of the people around.

They tried to help her, but she scrambled up, searching for Malfoy. But she didn't find him standing there with his wand. Her body still singed with pain. Where was he? Again she searched, but couldn't spot him. It had to have been him. Again she started running, but was struck again. Pain seared through all of her. Not as bad as being crucioed, but not far off. Where was he?

It was the same place it had struck her, there was some kind of barrier. Turning around, she ran the other way and down another street going away from the building she'd come from. But again she reached this barrier and the pain in inflicted. There was a barrier here too, and she bet it had her trapped inside. No wonder it had been so easy for her to escape. Malfoy had known she wasn't going anywhere. Bastard. He could have told her.

Reaching out, she was struck by the barrier again. It didn't have a reaction, a light ripple, as you would expect. Hermione didn't know what magic this was, but it was clearly there.

Malfoy must have known she'd try to get away at the first opportunity, which was exactly what had happened.

Standing there, she didn't know what to do. She could try other spots, but she was fairly sure the same thing would happen. There was a ward keeping her there. Clever. Her hoped had soared just to be dashed. He'd planned this.

With her mouth drawn tight, she walked back to the building, unsure what to do with herself. Malfoy was probably up there gloating. Had this ward been erected as he'd chased her into the building? Very likely. It meant that she couldn't escape here.

Patience was essential in dealing with this, and she needed to cultivate some. But she wasn't going to sneak back in as if trying to hide what she'd done. No, she walked in through the front door. The apartment was quiet and he wasn't standing there laughing at her. Instead, she saw him lying on the bed, facing away from her as if he didn't have a worry in the world. Was he asleep?

"What's to stop me plunging a knife in your back?"

"One of the nifty spells I put on you. You can't hurt me. That includes biting," he said. By his voice, she could tell he was smiling, or smirking, more like. She didn't want to consider what he feared her biting. "Now go back to the kitchen like I told you. Oh, and you can't leave. I'm sure you've already discovered that. Another nifty spell. Shall I show you?"

He apparated away and lighting speared through her body again. The pain crumpled her to the floor. Then stopped. He was there again, looking down at her, his wand in his hand. Not the first time they'd been like this, him standing over her with his wand, and she writhing in agony on the floor. But it hadn't been direct this time. A spell. It wasn't a ward that encircled the building. It was something else, something that was tied to him.

"How far?" she asked.

"Fifty yards."

So she could only be fifty yards from him before it struck. It would certainly keep her from trying to escape. "And when you have to leave?"

"Well, it will be an uncomfortable time for you. Your black little heart will be begging for my return."

So she was to suffer nonstop agony whenever he left her. She had to admit, it was twistedly clever. His return would be her salvation.

"Why are you still here?" he demanded, his voice sharp.

Rising, she walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She was caught, trapped with him, or within a certain distance of him.

All energy seeped out of her. After so much adrenalin and angst, she had no energy left. Placing her head on the table, she consciousness drifted away. Maybe he'd been resting for the same reason—the exhaustion after their battle.

But she had no answers, other than knowing escape wasn't possible with this charm on her. And apparently, she couldn't hurt him. No doubt a world of pain would hit her if she tried. Although throughout them knowing each other, the pain they'd inflicted on each other had never been physical—until today. And it seemed their physical dealing were only just starting.

Nausea flared in her gut, but she was too exhausted to actually throw up.

A/N For those of you looking for a read, I have just launched a pirate romance called Rawston. I'm pretty proud of it. Check it out on Amazon.