Breaker (Ondine Quartet Book 4) (31 page)

At the end of those sessions, those hands dragged me to a corner to use the restroom and eat and drink.

I’d refused.

But when the thirst grew too much, when hunger pangs knifed my body, I unhesitatingly dropped to the filthy ground and greedily drank and ate whatever those hands put before me.

That was the second lesson deprivation taught me.

Survival was a kingly beast, a voracious animal that would devour whatever was necessary in order to exist. It owed no allegiance to morals, ethics, or any other code.

Pride and self-dignity bowed before it.

I needed strength to escape.

To keep the words from absorbing into my skin.

To keep the others alive.

Nothing else mattered.

Only survival and water.

Always the water.

It leaked from a rusted pipe running along the ceiling.

Once a day, the patch of sunlight illuminated the flawless process.

Water beaded, gathering beneath the metal pipe until it formed a beautiful drop, oval and full.

Once it hit a certain weight, gravity pulled. It gently traveled through the air and landed on the shallow puddle gracing the floor.

Drip
.

Again and again.

But the puddle never grew.
 

Just as the pipe above fed it with water drops, a tiny fissure in the floor removed it. The ground slanted, allowing water to steadily drip into the break once it reached a certain size.
 

Somehow, in this forsaken bunker of metal machinery, nature had achieved a perfect equilibrium.
 

Water dripped and drained in a flawless rhythm, maintaining a shallow pool about two inches deep.

Drip.

Drip.

Its flow steady, unstoppable.

Even when darkness came.

Even when the words and food stopped.
 

Those rough hands now came solely to smear us with our daily reminder that Ian was still alive.

Nothing else.

The sun continued its passage, marking the days.

First.

Second.
 

On the third day, I could no longer stop the broken plea escaping my parched lips.

“Please.”

No response.

He finished marking the others and left.

Light arrived again and all I could do was stare at the puddle, listen to the dripping water as thirst clawed at my throat.
 

Right there.
 

Drip.

It was right there.

Drip.

Dark swallowed the light.

I stared.
 

Sight no longer mattered because my mind could still see the water.

That was the third lesson deprivation taught me.

Staying inside yourself was the hardest thing of all.

Who we were had nothing to do with our physical self.
 

The more our bodies grew irrelevant, the more pain and hunger and need tore it apart, the more my mind and self detached.

The danger lay in never finding my way back.

Drip.

I blinked.

How many drops had fallen? I’d lost count.
 

The first edges of sunlight once again filtered through the grate.

The water lightened and my reflection appeared, an image distorted with each ripple across the surface.

I was dirtier, thinner. My eyes glinted with something that reminded me of the monsters we sought to catch.
 

But I still looked the same.

No matter how much I resisted and provoked, the Aquidae did not injure me.

It was part of Bastien’s process.

No wounds on the outside.
 

My wounds were meant to be invisible.

My mind drifted, wondered how many drops it’d take to slake the thirst.

What one perfect bead would feel like against my tongue, rolling around my arid mouth.

“Kendra?” Julian’s voice was hoarse. Weaker.

I pulled myself back. “Here.”

The water’s heartbeat continued to punctuate the silence.

Drip.

“Cam?”

Drip.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah. Here.”

Drip
.

Drip
.

***

I jerked.
 

A sound had startled me out of the haze.

An Aquidae coalesced from the darkness and stood in the triangular patch of light before me. Sunlight illuminated his cold profile, the inhuman glint in his eye.

Sawyer. Bastien had called him that when we arrived.

For the first time since we’d been locked up here, he stood beside him.

“Looking a bit tired, Kendra,” Bastien said coolly.

My parched lips still moved. “I try.”

Sawyer shoved something against my lips. A bottle.

I greedily drank, my gaze locked on Bastien. He motioned and Sawyer yanked the bottle away.

Water raced through me and I felt parts of my body awaken. The fog in my brain cleared.

A second Aquidae appeared, carrying water to Julian and Cam. The sounds as they gulped it down reassured me.
 

“Do you wish to ask me about Mr. MacAllister?”

“Why should I trust anything you say?”

“I have never lied to you, Kendra.” He spread his arms. “I will always tell you the truth which is more than I can say for those you surround yourself with.”

“My friends don’t lie.”

“Are you sure about that?” He strolled left, disappearing into the shadows near Cam. “Lies are what we tell ourselves in order to survive.”

“I know my friends.”

“Well, you’ll soon have an opportunity to find out how well you know your friend, Mr. MacAllister.” Bastien’s voice floated through the darkness. “He is alive, of course.”

Alive didn’t mean fine and the bastard knew it.

“But what about Cam Martin?”
 

“Get the fuck away from me.” Cam’s reedy voice drifted toward me.

He was on the edge, lacking the energy to fight him off.
 

“Cam, listen to me,” I called out calmly.

“It is interesting how you have such faith in your friends,” Bastien began. “How elementals rely on such flimsy ideals to determine loyalty.”
 

“Martin,” Julian spoke up. He sounded exhausted, but focused. “Don’t let him in —“

A thump, followed by a grunt of pain. Sawyer was in charge of taking care of him.

“Cam.” I had to keep him here. “Tune him out.”

“This demillir is a perfect example of what I don’t understand about you and your priorities, Kendra,” Bastien continued. “Why would the
sondaleur
befriend such a person? He’s completely unremarkable. A coward. A failure in every sense of the word.”
 

“Don’t listen to him.”

“You’ve never quite been good enough, have you?” His insidious voice crept through the darkness. “Just like your father. He was a chevalier too, but had quite a few problems, including a partner who was killed by a mistake he made. That mistake still torments him, doesn’t it? If he hadn’t screwed up and run like a coward, his partner would still be alive.”

Oh, Cam.

“He had to leave the corps early. Reports said it was for medical reasons, but the truth was he couldn’t handle it. Isn’t that right?”

“Shut up,” Cam said.

But it was softer. Less conviction, more fear and…shame.

“Once he left, your mother almost died from the humiliation. She withdrew from the world, while your father withdrew into his liquor cabinet.”

“No —“

“Isn’t that why you wanted to become a chevalier? To prove every Martin wasn’t a coward? That you could be better than him?”

Cam didn’t reply. The silence was terrible.

“But it didn’t matter because your parents had already forgotten about you. You’ve been invisible to them for a long time. They didn’t care enough to show up to the Elite ceremony. Didn’t care that you’re one of the youngest ever inducted chevaliers.”
 

Come on, Cam.

But the only voice that continued was Bastien’s.

“You tried to take care of them. Your poor mother had retreated into a deluded realm where nothing was wrong. A father so haunted by his own shortcomings he could barely be called a man. But you couldn’t do it. After all, you were only a child.”

“No—“

“If only things hadn’t changed. If only they’d stayed the way it was before your father messed everything up. If only things wouldn’t continue to change. Then you could be a happy family. You’d still be in control. You’d understand how your world works.”
 

Bastien lowered his voice as if sharing an intimate secret. “But then this ondine arrives. Kendra bests you, bests your entire class of recruits.”

My chest hurt. “Cam…”

“How frustrating it must be that an ondine - someone who was Rogue - could beat you! If only people would simply stay the way they’re supposed to.” Bastien gave a mock sigh. “I understand, Cam. I really do. Redavi should stay out of the lives of chevaliers. Ondines shouldn’t be fighting. Demillirs shouldn’t have magic. It’s all so abnormal.”

A sharp inhale from Julian.

“And nixes shouldn’t be friends with elementals. Someone like Mr. MacAllister shouldn’t be allowed near you and your group. Near Chloe. You don’t know where you belong if others don’t have the courtesy of staying where they should.”
 

“Stop.” Cam’s voice was too weak.

“Why, just look at Chloe Moreaux. Beautiful, lovely Chloe. You couldn’t protect her father. And now she’s fighting, too. The chevalier corps is changing because of Kendra. The sweet ondine you wanted to protect since childhood has now joined your group. A recruit, possibly soon a chevalier, too.”

“Leave her alone—“

“She’s strong. The fear is terrible, isn’t it? Because you know the stronger she gets the more she’ll realizes how weak you are. How average.”

A breath hitched on a sob.

“And so you hold her close, hoping she won’t change. Because if the rules keep shifting, how will you know what to do? How to be so you won’t screw up? If things change, everyone will eventually see the truth. You’ll be just as invisible to Chloe as you are to your parents.”
 

Oh God. “Cam, that’s not true —“

“Make one mistake and you’ll end up as miserable as your old man.”

“Don’t let him in—“

“You want to fix this. Prove to Chloe, prove to yourself, that you’re not a failure. So you came, even though you are worthless to the
sondaleur
.”

“He’s wrong —“

“She doesn’t need you. Nobody needs you. They know you are no one, just another demillir who like his father will fail over and over again —”

“Shut up!” Cam roared, a sound of fury and helpless rage.

The darkness fell silent.

Drip.

Drip.

And then a chuckle, thick and malevolent.

“You sick fuck,” Julian muttered.

The sound of fist against flesh cracked through the air.

“Stop!” I lunged and the chain snapped me back.

“Ah, yes. The Redavi chevalier.”

Bastien briefly reappeared, his profile illuminated by the light, then melted into the darkness on Julian’s side of the room.

“An even deeper enigma. A demillir with a Virtue, the magic to hide himself. That’s what you’ve done your entire life.”

“Well, I would’ve but I’ve been a bit busy —“

Another punch.

Bastien tsked. “You’ve never known when to stop, Julian. The lines you shouldn’t cross. I blame that on your mother, of course. She completely neglected you and you’ve failed to learn the concept of boundaries. I can’t really blame her, though. Who would want a freak of a son? She’s been ashamed of you her entire life.”

Julian gave a wet cough then spat. “Good thing I don’t give a shit.”

Bastien chuckled. “You’re so good at hiding how alone you are. A second-rate chevalier, a demillir of no worth. You’ve never fit anywhere. Not among the Redavi or among the chevaliers. The other recruits must’ve hated you so much - a spoiled rich LeVeq thinking he can belong in their world.”

Julian laughed, but this time I caught the edge in it. “Again, you’re saying it as if I care.”

“Oh, but you do.” Bastien’s tone softened. “Because I know how much you care about Kendra. You were willing to give me her beloved Warrior Prince. You knew she was the only one who could see you. Who could understand.”

“Stop,” I murmured.

“But she didn’t, did she? She was yet another disappointment. Or maybe it was the other way around? Maybe you were once again unable to live up to what someone wanted.” A pause. “Yes, I believe that’s what it was.”

This time, there was only silence.

“You’re afraid Kendra’s going to leave you here, aren’t you?” Bastien’s sympathetic voice made my stomach churn. “That she used you just as she’s used you in the past. To train and help her, then later in New York when you went after my Lieutenant. Good enough to fight alongside her and be a resource when she needs to get around the rules. But nothing more than that.”

“Julian, you know that’s not true —“

“Of course it is. According to Mr. MacAllister, Chevalier LeVeq remains at Haverleau unwillingly, forced to be Head Chevalier under your orders. Even now, you coerce him, keep him by your side to serve your own agenda.”

I didn’t know what hurt worse. That Ian, like everyone else, believed I used Julian for my own purposes or that he’d been tortured to the point where he’d told Bastien.

“What do you think Chevalier LeVeq? Do you have anything to add?”

A few excruciating long seconds of silence.

“Yeah.” Julian exhaled. “Fuck you.”

“A shame. Sawyer?”

This time it didn’t stop.

The hits continued, one after another, the pummels a relentless rhythm against his bones, his body.
 

“Stop!” My voice cracked. “Stop it!”

A sudden silence.

“Do you wish to stop hurting him?”

“Yes.”
 

“Because you care about him.”

I didn’t reply. If I did, he’d use it as a weapon against me. I couldn’t give him that power.