The Soothing Scent Of Earth (Elemental Awakening, Book 2) Page 2

  Again and again he struck, making my head whip from side to side as he put every ounce of his physical strength into beating me. I counted thirteen strikes before I lost consciousness. Thirteen screams, which became cries, and then finally whimpers.

  I'd succeeded in something today. Something I had not managed to do for three months.

  I broke a Hederin induced hallucination.

  And I broke my Gi interrogator’s composure.

  I woke back on my hard bed, a cool cloth wiping carefully against the skin on my neck. Without windows I couldn't tell what time it was, how long I had been out. From the ache in my body, not just my face, my tormentor had progressed on from cheek slaps, to full body punches. I sucked in a shallow breath and realised I probably had broken ribs as well as a bruised jaw now.

  I whimpered as the cloth was dragged across sensitive flesh, then wrung out in a bowl of water to my side. I hadn't yet opened my eyes. I don't think it was intentional. My lids felt a little too puffy to be normal right now.

  "Sorry," my carer whispered. "He made a mess of your face."

  A sliver of light appeared along the bottom of my vision; the gap my swollen eyelids allowed me to see through. The Gi doctor sat on a chair beside my bed, gently tending to my sorry state.

  "I pissed him off," I mumbled, perhaps incoherently.

  "You shouldn't do that," he replied neutrally, but didn't stop cleaning up the blood with tender strokes of the cloth.

  "How long was I out?" I asked, a little more light seeping through my half closed lids. I could make out the broad chest of the doctor now, not quite his face. But I knew him. He'd tended to my injuries in the past.

  "It's late afternoon," he surprised me by saying. "I've only just now been called in and you were still unconscious when I arrived. I'm uncertain when Davos left you, but he wasn't seen in the hallways until one hour ago."

  It was the most the doctor had ever spoken. Usually his answers were oblique and short. He hadn't even called my interrogator by name before, and as the doctor and my tormentor were the only two Gi I ever saw, my conversations had been limited. Until now.

  I'm not sure why he was in a talkative mood, but despite the pain of my injuries I decided it was an opportunity I couldn't pass up.

  "Will he back?" The most important question.

  The doctor grunted. It was an unamused sound he'd never made before. "Oh, he'll be back, little one. He's feeding his Stoicheio so when he returns he can really let you have it. What were you thinking?"

  Another surprise. The doctor had never asked me a question before.

  "I couldn't watch him die again," I admitted, not in the slightest ashamed to own up to that fact. Davos knew already. The doctor probably knew as well. I wasn't admitting to anything that wasn't already common knowledge.

  "You have to promise me not to strike back," the doctor whispered, moving the bloodied water bowl away to the sink in the corner to wash it out.

  I turned my head with effort and watched his back for a moment. My eyelids allowed further vision as time past. The strange healing abilities of an Athanatos. I could already feel my ribs reforming and the bruise on my jaw getting smaller. But those unusual abilities were not what was making me feel unsettled.

  The doctor was acting a little too differently today than I would have liked.

  He returned to my bedside, all the while I watched him closely, and unscrewed the lid of a smelly ointment. Dipping in two fingers he pulled out a dollop of the foul stuff and proceeded to lather it on my face and jaw. I kept my lips sealed, even though I wanted to breathe through my mouth, not my nose. But fear of tasting the vile medicine kept them firmly shut.

  Once he was satisfied with the state of my face, he moved on to my ribs. Lifting my thin cotton shirt to expose my naked chest. He didn't bat an eyelash at the mess Davos had made or the glimpse he was getting of my breasts.

  He finished his task, lowered my shirt and then finally met my eyes. Green danced hypnotically across their normally blue depths.

  "How much more can you take?" he asked quietly.

  I stared at him for a long moment wondering what the best answer would be. Wondering why he would ask the question in the first place. I had no answer to either dilemma. As with everything else, I was out of my league.

  "I don't know," I whispered, finding it hard to lie to the man, despite knowing he was one of them and shouldn't be trusted. He'd cared for me, shown mercy where Davos had given me none. I didn't trust him, but I hadn't categorised him as yet, either.

  He sighed and ran a hand though his long brown hair, resting his palm at the nape of his neck.

  "It's too soon," he mumbled, not making any sense. "We're not ready."

  "What's not ready?" I asked, voice quiet in the hopes he'd not be startled by my query.

  But I needn’t have worried, because he didn't have time to answer, even if he'd intended to. The door banged open and Davos stormed in. Green flooding the darker space before him, stealing all natural light and banishing any momentary relief from rest I'd just had.

  "Is she fit for another round?" he demanded, coming to stand over the doctor's shoulder and glare at my supine form.

  The doctor met my eyes, a message there that I couldn't determine. Then he stood from his chair and turned to face Davos.

  "Too bad if she isn't," he snarled, making Davos chuckle wickedly.

  "You wanna stay and watch?" the Gi interrogator asked. "I plan on being inventive this time."

  My stomach lurched as my heart picked up speed. Davos had received too much enjoyment in my pain, to the point that I think he craved it, desired it. A sick kind of fear took root in my belly and spread through my numbed limbs.

  "I wouldn't want to get in your way, Davos," the doctor murmured, taking a step toward the door, his shoulders rigid.

  "Too bad," Davos said, effectively dismissing the retreating doctor. "All the more for me to relish."

  "At least let me have a short break before I have to return to heal her again," the doctor said at the door, his eyes on Davos, I think he no longer could look at me. Guilt? Or just a survival mechanism, knowing what was in store for me and switching off his emotional reaction to my plight. "I have an appointment in Manaus this evening."

  Oh freaking hell. The doctor wouldn't even be here if Davos got out of hand. A sense of foreboding and sudden all-encompassing clarity swamped me. I was truly, truly alone.

  Had the doctor just been another ploy to give me a slither of hope and then smash it? Make me open a little to his tender care and softly murmured words, and then cut me off completely from that line of support. Reinforcing my desolation.

  Davos laughed, it slithered along my spine and left sickening pinpricks all over my skin. A small amount of sweat had broken out across my upper lip, threatening to spread at an alarming speed.

  "Enjoy yourself, Doctor," he murmured. "Perhaps by this evening we both will have satisfied an itch."

  Bile coated my tongue, as the door clicked shut behind the physician.

  My eyes met the feral green of Davos' and an ugly smirk graced his lips.

  "Are you ready, Princess?" he mocked, emphasising the title the Gi had never acknowledged, even though it appeared they had that day in Auckland. I was not their long lost princess, and they'd known it.

  What they hadn't known was what I actually was.

  I had an awful feeling that despite what perverse and evil things Davos had in store for me this afternoon, I'd never be able to give them the answer they sought.

  I sucked in ragged breath after ragged breath, as he stepped closer and closer to my bed. Just before he reached out a large hand to grasp me, I screamed.

  It was the only weapon I had.

  And it was never going to be enough.

  Chapter 2

  In My Dark, Dank Cell

  "It's just you and me," Davos murmured in my ear, as he clasped a metal bracket around my wrist. "Cosy, eh?" he whispered, letting his sickeningly hot breath
wash over my still healing cheek.

  He bent and fastened two more chains to my ankles, the metal already digging into my flesh. I was strung up and defenceless. My arms pulled taut above my head, my back to a cold concrete wall, and my feet braced slightly wider than shoulder length apart. He adjusted the tension until there was absolutely no give at all. I couldn't even rattle the chains they were so tight.

  I settled for a glare at my torturer, the only defiance I could spare.

  He stepped back and held my gaze, a twist of his lips at one side letting me see his amusement at my ridiculous show of strength.

  "With the good doctor gone, there's no one in this building to hear your screams," Davos pointed out, enjoying the reaction that must have shown on my face. "I don't have to consider word of our fun reaching the Rigas," he added, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied me.

  His green tinged eyes coasted over my exposed frame. He hadn't stripped me, but the shirt I wore was so threadbare he'd see every outline, every dip and curve of my breasts. And the trousers, although still clinging doggedly to my hips, had been ripped early on in my captivity, until now they were more shorts than long pants. He made sure I could see his hunger with each bile inducing caress of his gaze. I was no longer certain if it was hunger for my pain or something else, though.

  And that made the bile surge up my throat.

  "Before we get started, I have obligations I must meet," he said, in a tone that suggested he'd rather bypass this part and head straight for the fun. "What are you?" he asked, the question that was repeated daily, several times a day, during my sessions with this man.

  "I've already told you," I replied, swallowing down the acrid taste on my tongue and almost gagging. "I don't know."

  "Not good enough," he shot back. "The Basilissa wants the truth."

  The Basilissa was the Queen of the Gi. And I was sure these interrogations were carried out on her orders and not, in fact, the King's.

  "I can't tell you what I don't know," I supplied, a truth I had repeated since the start.

  "No?" Davos queried with an arched brow. "Then maybe I can force it out of you. Perhaps it is buried deep inside and you just require the right stimulant to extract the knowledge."

  He smirked. It made me physically sick.

  "I can be very stimulating," he pointed out with a sneer.

  Vomit pooled in my mouth. I was tempted to spit it at him, but the consequences would be too painful, even if the disgust he'd surely show would offer a minute measure of satisfaction. I gagged as the acid burned my throat on the way back down.

  Davos frowned. Then took a step closer, dismissing my unusual behaviour.

  "Last chance," he whispered, just as his big frame stopped within half a foot of mine. "What are you? You are not one of us. You are not one of the Pyrkagia you love so much. Then, what. The. Fuck. Are. You?"

  My mind scrambled to come up with an answer, any answer, it didn't have to be the truth, just something to stop what would happen next. To throw him off the scent and give me a chance to prepare for my painful death.

  But nothing could prepare me, I was sure. And no miraculous answer sprang to mind to rescue me from my dire situation.

  The only thing I could think to say was, "What do you believe me to be?"

  "An imposter!" he shouted, spittle coating my face, as a fisted punch to my stomach accompanied the cry.

  Air burst from my lungs and I couldn't suck it back in again. I curved, as much as my body allowed in its current chained state, in on myself, trying to protect my burning muscles. The vomit I'd swallowed earlier churned and clawed at my insides. I ached, but without air in my lungs I couldn't even scream through the pain. Just a grunt and tears streaming down my cheeks was the only outlet I had at my disposal.

  "Can you breathe yet?" Davos asked conversationally. "Suck it in, Princess. This isn't even the end of round one."

  Another punch to my stomach, which surprisingly, although still hurting like a bitch, didn't make my lungs scream for air anymore than they already were. I grunted, coughed, and watched horrified as blood splattered the front of Davos' shirt. That punch had done some serious damage.

  My vision blurred, blackened, and by the time the world stopped dimming and the room again formed in front of my eyes, Davos had removed his top completely. And stood bare chested in front of me, arms crossed, angry glare on his face.

  "That wasn't nice," he pointed out. "Do I get my blood on you?" he asked, bizarrely expecting an answer from me. "Well? Do I?"

  "You don't bleed," I forced out between still gritted teeth. "Your heart is made of stone."

  "That's it, Princess. Show me what made you so delicious, a Pyrkagia Prince forsook tradition and bedded what he thought was a Gi."

  Theo. Pain, that outshone the agony still burning in my midsection, speared through my chest. In a knee-jerk reaction I reached for my Stoicheio, to soothe the ache or lash out at the cause of it, I don't know. But all that met me was empty space. A void so deep and dark it was fathomless.

  Frustration flushed my body, made me stretch against the binds at my wrists and feet, and then scream in the face of my tormentor. Ear-splitting, heart-wrenching, from-the-deepest-part-of-my-soul type of scream.

  My throat, already so hoarse from the bile and vomit earlier, was raw by the time I was through. I hung limply by the cuffs above and panted for much needed air, while tears rained down on the floor between my feet.

  "Are you quite finished?" Davos asked, unimpressed with my little display.

  I spat at him, wishing my saliva was still mixed with my blood. His hand rose slowly to wipe the spittle off his face and he growled, low and threateningly.

  "That will cost you," he promised, reaching into his trouser pocket and pulling a device free.

  He flicked his wrist and the small thin object doubled in size, then trebled, until it was long and whip-like. Which he then propelled through the air making a swishing sound vibrate around the room.

  "I think you need a little softening before we get down to business," he announced, ominously. "Make sure you know your place."

  He cracked the whip against the wall within inches of my right cheek, making me jerk and suck in a surprised breath of air. He laughed at my reaction, then did the same movement again on the other side. This time closer. I could feel the displacement of air as the whip passed within millimetres of my flesh.

  "Imagine what this will feel like against your skin," he whispered, running the device through his fingers lovingly. "Imagine the marks it will leave. Some, unfortunately, may be permanent."

  He waited for me to see the falsity of that statement. Athanatos could heal from an injury such as that. When he saw the question on my face he leaned forward, a hairbreadth away from my lips.

  And whispered, "I'll infuse my Stoicheio into the tip, just as it enters your flesh. Channel essence to coat it in toxin. But I won't do it each time. You'll never know if the sting you feel leaves a permanent scar or not. You'll ask yourself, as the excruciating pain spreads out along nerve endings through your entire body, will I remember this when a lover strokes his hand down my spine?"

  "Fuck you," I ground out. "You wouldn't know the touch of a willing lover, so try a different line, Gi. One I might just believe."

  It was useless to be defiant, but even now, faced with the reality of a beating that could leave permanent marks, I couldn't go quietly into the night. Even without my Stoicheio to encourage and boost me, I still felt a demand from deep inside, telling me to never give up. To never give in.

  It was futile, but I clung to those words, that whispered through my mind. I clung to them even knowing they were a fantasy.

  His free hand wrapped around my throat and he pressed hard, making me gurgle and struggle for air. His lips crushed against my cheek, followed quickly by his tongue licking the salty taste of tears from my skin.

  "I taste your fear, Princess. I smell your defeat. I can feel the thundering of your blood through you
r veins. I hear your pants for the last of your breaths. And I'll watch the light leave your eyes in the end."

  He squeezed one more time, an unbelievably painful tightening around my throat, and then released me. I coughed and spluttered and attempted to draw in much needed air, unable to reach the bruises he'd formed on my neck and soothe them.

  "One last time," he gritted out between a set jaw. "What are you?"

  I shook my head, but my throat hurt too much to even answer. He knew what I'd say, I didn't need to cause myself more injury by voicing it.

  Davos spat on the ground at my feet and then reached down and undid my ankle cuffs. He made quick work of those and with a snarled, "Don't try anything stupid, Princess. I'm just craving a chance to fuck you up more than necessary, right now," he undid the wrist cuffs and turned me around to face the wall.

  If I'd thought I felt exposed when facing him and the room, it had nothing on the sensation of having him at my back. He ground my cheek into the concrete, re-bruising the recently healed flesh, and then re-established my binds, top and bottom. He then stood back and did nothing.

  My face was turned sideways, so I could only see a partial glimpse of him watching me, watching his handiwork. Enjoying the moment before he stepped things up and let that whip fly. Several long drawn out seconds passed, no sound to indicate how much he was getting off on this, just the pressure of waiting, of knowing, what would come next.

  Three months of captivity and it comes down to this.

  I knew the moment the Gi Rigas had ordered Anaisthetikos back in Auckland, that things were not going to go as Theo and I had planned. In the space of seconds my world, already turned upside down, was simply blown apart. Although I didn't see him die until Davos started using Hederin on me, I watched Theo battle with the vine at his neck. I watched the blood drain from his handsome face and coat his collar. And I watched the love he felt for me blaze from his golden eyes as the terror of his plight took over.