Something of a short chapter, but very dramatic. Longer chapters in the works, don't worry! Sorry - I promise we are getting back to Wednesday soon!

Thanks for the amazing reviews!

Hope you enjoy!

~TLD

Part Twenty-Five: Broken

The darkness behind her closed eyes was painful, and so consciousness came and went, as dimmer switch turned up and down. Her mind and body would feel the strength to endure the agony only to be crushed again and retreat back into the unfeeling black abyss, cloaking itself in its comforting nothingness.

And so it was, during one of her short bouts of semi-consciousness that she heard him.

"My cara; cara mia," he murmured, his voice the sweetness of black silk. He heaved a deep sigh, releasing his breath softly. Even so, he couldn't completely control his emotion and his sigh was laden with a soft but heartbreaking moan.

"My love, my heart," he whispered, his voice crumbling under his emotion. "Come back, Tish. Come back to me."

The pain grew in her, pushing hard against her will, thrusting her back into the black. But she fought it, not wanting to lose Gomez's velvety voice in her ear. She tried to ignore the pain and the spinning it caused in her head.

Suddenly she felt it. Soft, warm lips on her hand. Sweet, deep kisses on the inside of her wrist.

She smiled involuntarily. New pain laced through her, causing her to gasp aloud.

And then the black curtain descended again.

Joel's eyes had adjusted to the low light of the cold, concrete cell, so that he could see her before him in stark detail. Her blond hair, her pouty red lips, and her sparkling blue eyes loomed before him. And, though she smiled at him and gazed upon his face as a lover might dote upon her beloved, he'd never been more afraid of her.

What the Hell is going on, he thought.

He controlled his breathing. His guarded eyes were riveted on her face.

"Ah, Joel," Lilith sighed. Her voice stroked his name like a caress. "My beautiful boy, you're injured," she added, her voice sad and wistful. Her beautiful face was contorted into a heartbreaking expression of sadness.

Joel raised an eyebrow sarcastically. "I thought that was the idea." His voice was scathing and ice cold.

Lilith's eyes glinted with humor, her face amused and dangerous – a cat playing with her prey. She giggled, "Ah. Well, yes," she admitted between giggles, "it was." She let the implication linger.

Joel couldn't help it. He took the bait. "What changed?"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Lilith's childish voice chided, "Not so fast, Joel! I won't let you ruin the surprise just yet. But, don't worry. You'll understand soon enough." She smiled a knowing smile and made Joel's blood run cold.

"But first," she continued, light-hearted, "we have to get you patched up." She stroked his cheek patronizingly. Joel grit his teeth to keep from wincing at the pain in his cheek and jaw.

Lilith brought her face inches from Joel's. Her body brushed against his, sending an electric shock across his bruised and broken ribs.

He dropped his head, letting his body relax in attempt to put distance between his body and Lilith's. But as her ruby lips – and the razor sharp fangs beneath them – brushed his cheek, Joel's body stiffened involuntarily, his eyes flashing fear and then defiance.

He held his breath, waiting for Lilith's fangs to pierce his throat.

Lilith smiled as she brought her lips to Joel's ear. And then she whispered, slowly and clearly, "You'll need to feed."

Joel's hardened expression dropped away, momentarily replaced by a look of sheer, unmitigated horror.

She was right, of course. Joel could feel it within him, the beast rising up, begging for blood to mend and strengthen him. Between the fight and the subsequent torture, Joel was nearly spent. He balked at the thought of being alone in a room with any human at the present moment.

The truth hit him like a battering ram – he'd never be able to control himself.

Lilith could feel his panic, and knew her words had hit home. She pulled back, reveling in the waves of panic that poured off Joel, basking in the glow of his hardened mask as it minutely slipped from his face. She smiled. His pain was glorious. She fought the urge to let her chin tip up and her eyes roll back into her head at the sheer pleasure of his panic.

"I'm going to release your bonds, Joel. And then, my pet, you will have a choice." Lilith's languid voice swirled through the pounding in Joel's veins. He struggled to keep his eyes from wheeling around the room like a caged animal.

Lilith's eyes glinted with pleasure, "Kneel at my feet, and kiss my hand," she drawled.

A disgusted hiss erupted from Joel's throat.

Lilith's gloating face hardened slightly, and when she continued, the words came out hard and fast, "and I will make sure your next meal doesn't consist of a pale, moon-faced, little –"

But whatever Lilith was going to call Wednesday was drowned out by Joel's furious growls and the clanging of his chains as his body thrashed. His eyes burned with Hellfire and his fangs glinted, razors in his mouth.

Lilith smiled back.

"Or –" she chimed, her voice full of amusement.

Joel's growls subsided, though his eyes burned in the chalky pallor of his tortured face.

"Or," Lilith repeated, and now her eyes narrowed into slits and her face burned with malice, "continue to oppose me…"

She raised an eyebrow and her expression turned mocking. "I'll leave you here, Joel. Alone. Bleeding. Unchained…"

Joel caught his breath, deathly silent, as Lilith's words echoed through the small room. They felt like daggers, slicing into him.

Lilith smiled, pleased with her captive audience.

"And when the hunger takes you, your eyes burning red with the bloodlust, you'll scream in agony, you'll beg and plead, howling for blood. And," she paused dramatically, "when you can't stand it anymore…"

Joel's eyes fell, imagining the images she painted for him. His face contorted in pain. He could see himself, feral and unhinged, pacing the small room – writhing in agony, burning for blood…

"I'll bring her in here with you, Joel."

Joel's eyes shot up, focusing on Lilith's amused face. Sheer, unmitigated horror splashed plainly across his face. His mouth opened slightly in defeat, his brow creased with pain and self-loathing.

Her grin widened, "I'll lock her in. Let you two have a little privacy," she added. "I wonder if she'd scream," she mused, seeming oblivious to Joel's shaking form as the images tortured him. She turned to him, smiling hugely, "What do you think?" she mocked, "When she saw what's become of you, when she sees the beast, hears you shriek for her blood…" she let her voice fade away.

Joel was shaking his head so fiercely, as if he could throw the words from his mind. He winced visibly, his mind revolting against the mental images she drew for him, his whole body shaking with rage and disgust.

But then, even as he writhed in agony, his body shuddered under a wave of distinct desire. He suddenly found himself remembering the smell of her blood from the knife wound. Was that only the day before? The sight of it pouring across her neck and down her shoulder. The warmth of it pulsing in the air from across the room…

NO! he shouted at himself sternly. Stop! NO!!

"No…" he said aloud, but his voice was barely more than a whimper.

Pleased, Lilith reached up and released Joel's shackled hands from the hook in the ceiling. He fell hard, landing first on his feet, but then lurching forward as his numb legs refused to hold him upright. He lay, face down, on the cold concrete floor, and, at first, Lilith thought he had no intention of moving.

But then, slowly, he pushed himself up, his face contorted in pain, low grunts of muted agony ripping through his chest, falling heavily back on his knees. Joel's head was bowed into his chest, as if the effort of lifting his chin was more than he could manage.

Lilith waited, her patience being aided by the toe-curling pleasure she experienced watching Joel's broken body and spirit bend to her will.

Joel took a deep breath. There's no reason for her to keep her word, he thought. It's not a test, or a bargain, he knew. This was simply Lilith's idea of play, of pleasure. She was just as likely to drag Wednesday in the room moments after he submitted to her as she was to strike him dead, or – least likely – keep her word.

But would you risk Wednesday's life for the sake of your pride? his thoughts argued back. He had nothing, he knew. Nothing he could threaten Lilith with, nothing he could give or withhold to bargain for Wednesday's life. And no way to save her or himself.

Only a fool would cling to his pride at a time like this, a sarcastic voice in his head sneered. Even his thoughts mocked him.

And so, as he raised his eyes to Lilith's, and reached out his bruised and bloody hand to her, he sent up a silent prayer that the thrill of victory might be enough to placate Lilith – if only for a little while.

Lilith smiled coyly as Joel's open – albeit empty – eyes held her own. His hand extended toward her without even the slightest trembling. She felt her pride surging as she laid her hand in his. Yes, she thought, he's perfect.

And as he brought his lips to her hand, his cold eyes still locked on her face, she thought, with a smile, Checkmate.