Tara (27 page)

A shout tore Tara from sleep and she heard struggles in the darkness, a grunt as someone landed a hit, and her eyes focused enough to see figures moving in the dim light from the window. Someone grabbed for her and she kicked them back. “Alaric!” She shouted, and then they charged her, slamming her back onto the bed.

Twisting she tried to see him, but she couldn’t. “You bitch, hold still,” a low voice growled and she slammed her knee into the man’s side as he tried to hold her down.

“ALARIC!” Tara yelled louder, knocking the man’s hands away as he reached for her again, bringing her elbow back into the side of his head.

“Shit!”

“Would you get her under control?” Another man’s voice came from behind her and suddenly another set of hands was grabbing at her, dragging her back down.

“I can’t wait to really get my hands on you.” The man on top of her sounded gleefully sinister as he grabbed her chin, shoving her face to the side. An instant later a sharp prick in her neck told her they’d stuck her with a needle, and she tried to fight harder, but the cool liquid spread and her head went fuzzy, her muscles refusing to respond.

“Alaric…” Tara whimpered, as the suffocating black washed over her.

Too much
.

They’d given her too much.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Alaric woke up with a snap, a terrible headache pounding at his temples as he jerked back. For a moment he couldn’t tell where he was, but as he tried to reach for his head he realized he was tied-up –
no
– cuffed. To a chair.

“Morning, Alaric.” The voice was close to his right side, and he pulled away from it as much as he could, his bleary eyes straining to focus until he recognized the man beside him.

Louis.

One of his so-called coworkers at Infinity Consulting.

With a growl he jerked harder at the cuffs, but Louis just tsk’d and leaned back against a table as he laid a packet of broken smelling salts down beside him. “Now, now, don’t struggle. You know you’re not going anywhere.”

“Where’s Tara? Where the
fuck
are we, Louis?” Alaric growled out the words, his voice straining against the last remnants of whatever they had drugged him with as he took in the small concrete room he was in. He hoped he’d hurt the asshole when they’d come for them, he remembered hitting one of them.

“This?” Louis gestured around them. “It’s an old municipal police station, but the city hasn’t used it for years. Cutbacks from what I understand.”

“Where the fuck is Tara, Louis?” He shouted, scraping his wrists raw as he yanked against the unforgiving metal once more. “Let me up! Uncuff me right now and take me to her!”

“
That
I can’t do.” Louis rubbed his hands together and then folded them in his lap. “From what I understand Luca gave you several chances to turn the girl over, more than he
should
have given you - in my opinion - but now that time has passed.”

“Don’t you fucking touch her!”

“We’re a little too late for that as well.” Louis shifted and dragged a small television across the table, pressing a button on the front to turn it on. It flashed bright for a moment, and then settled into a grainy image of Tara, hanging by her wrists from a set of cuffs in the middle of a room. Worse,
Henrik
was leaning against the wall just behind her. Alaric’s stomach twisted, but before he could speak, Louis did. “You’ve got one chance to make this easier on her. Agree to turn her over, to let it go, and we won’t hurt her as much. I wish I could tell you we wouldn’t hurt her at all, but…” He pulled air in through his teeth, tilting his head. “Luca said we
do
have to hurt her a little. To teach you a lesson.”

“Fuck you!” Alaric tried to twist, testing the possibility of escaping, but the chair was solid. The back was made of metal rungs, and his arms were woven through them.

“You shouldn’t have even got involved with her. You should have just sedated her day one, like Luca
told
you to, and then turned her over. It would have been clean, easy, and you could have moved on with your life.” Louis shrugged. “She barely struggled when we gave her the dose.”

“I will
never
give her to you.” Alaric spoke through clenched teeth, and Louis sighed heavily. Then he reared back and punched him hard in the jaw. The copper tang of blood met his tongue as the pain spread, but Alaric just spit it onto the floor and turned to face him again.

“Luca told us you’d probably say something like that.” Louis laughed a little, shaking his head as he hopped onto the table. “You’ve never really understood who’s in charge, Alaric. You’ve been sheltered, protected by Luca’s feelings for you. His precious orphan Oliver. Now you’re going to finally learn what it’s like for the rest of us – there are
always
consequences.”

“Louis, you
know
me. You know I wouldn’t do something like this unless it was important. Don’t do this.”

“It’s out of my hands. I’m just doing my job. Now, watch, I made sure you were awake for the show, and it should start any minute.” Louis patted the top of the television, and Alaric’s eyes focused on the limp figure of Tara. He was relieved that she was still dressed, but he wished he’d taken the time to get her different clothes. The skirt was already high on her thighs, the dark top lifting to expose several inches of her stomach as she hung, helpless, from the cuffs. Even in black and white the screen revealed too much, and he wanted to scream at her to wake up. To warn her that Henrik was in the room with her, but he wasn’t even sure where the video feed was coming from.

“Let me talk to Luca –”

Louis hit him again, and Alaric gritted his teeth as he growled against the pain. “Shut up and watch. Luca doesn’t want to talk to you unless you’re turning the girl over.”

It could have been a matter of minutes, or an hour, but eventually he started to see the glow on her skin. The same glow he’d seen the first morning he’d been with her in the hotel, and then the video feed went to static, the sound hissing and crackling. A moment later it settled again, but now Henrik was standing in front of her, blocking his view of Tara. The asshole glanced back towards the camera, tilting his head.

“He said no,” Louis spoke into a small microphone attached to his collar, and on the screen Henrik smiled. Then he turned and punched Tara in the stomach.

“STOP!” Alaric shouted, but Louis just shrugged and pointed at the television.

“Watch, Alaric, this is all because of you.”

Tara coughed, wincing as her toes sought purchase on the floor, and then she craned her head up to look at the restraints. Panic flashed across her expression for a brief moment before she got control again. He could see it happen as she slowly pulled away from the situation, her face smoothing and her muscles relaxing. Detaching, just like she’d been when he found her.

“Hello, Tara.” Henrik spoke, and she didn’t even lift her head to look at him. “Your new master is excited to finally have you with him, even with the slight delay in delivery. He’s on his way to pick up his pretty new present.”

She didn’t even twitch. Her fingers were relaxed on the other side of the cuffs, her body barely swaying as she kept her balance.

“Unfortunately for you, you didn’t exactly behave since we got you out of Gianni’s, did you?” Henrik stepped closer to her, partially blocking her from view again, but it was clear from the lack of movement that she wasn’t even reacting. “More specifically, you proved to be quite a distraction for Alaric… luckily he saw the light and turned you over.”

Alaric screamed then, pulling on his cuffs as he cursed Louis, but the man just slammed his hand down on the television. “Watch!”

“How do you think we got you? Who do you think told us where you were?”

“Liar.” Tara finally spoke, her soft voice like a knife in Alaric’s side, but Henrik just laughed.

“I’m not lying. Why do you think he’d protect you? Because you slept with him?” The asshole laughed a little harder. “You actually think you’re special? What… did he play his wounded warrior act with you? Did he tell you that bullshit story about his mom?”

“Dammit, Louis! You fucking bast-” Alaric was cut off when Louis stepped behind him and covered his mouth, jerking his head back hard, holding him still so he kept facing the screen.

“Shut up and watch.”

On the little television Tara wasn’t moving, but Henrik paced in front of her. A few steps one way, a few the other. “Tell me, how long did it take before you were in his bed? A week? Less?” She flinched, and Henrik laughed again. “Well, well, pretty girl, don’t you live up to your reputation...”

Tara’s eyes clenched tight, her chin dropping to her chest again, and Alaric tried to jerk out of Louis’ grip, but he just tightened it.

Henrik’s taunting voice picked up on the audio again, “Did you know your new master told us that Gianni Formato described you as
accommodating
when he was interviewing people to sell you to? I believe his exact words were that you
never told him no
.” Henrik stepped next to her, cupping her chin to force her head up. “I didn’t quite believe him until now.”

Alaric tried to struggle again, attempting to bring his head back into Louis’ face to hurt him, but the man avoided it, bracing his arm against the back of Alaric’s neck to hold him still. “Don’t make this worse. I’m the only one keeping Henrik under any kind of control, so don’t piss me off or she’ll suffer for it.”

As she tried to turn away from his touch, Henrik grabbed her face hard, angling her head back so she had to look at him. “Hey… hey now, don’t cry. You’re just doing what you were made for, right? Spreading your legs for whoever wants it?” Tara twisted, pulling her face out of his grip, but Henrik reared his hand back and slapped her hard. The sharp cry that escaped her made Alaric’s stomach sink.

“Dammit, Lou-” Louis covered his mouth again, holding him tight as he yanked at the cuffs, no longer caring about the damage he did to his wrists. He just wanted to get to Henrik so he could tear him apart, limb from limb.

There wasn’t a beat before Henrik had his hands on her again, grabbing her hair so he could lean close. “You should play nice with me, pretty girl. You’ll enjoy yourself that way. I’m better than Alaric. Trust me.”

“You’re nothing like Alaric,” Tara spat and then she grabbed onto the chain above her and kicked him hard, knocking him back into the wall. Alaric cheered against Louis’ palm, but the man didn’t budge.

Unfortunately, Henrik recovered fast and moved behind her. He stopped her attempt to kick him again, and then landed a set of hard hits to her ribs. When he finally stopped a groaning cry slipped from between her teeth, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. He was looking right into the camera when he spoke again against Tara’s ear. “That was not smart, you little bitch. Believe whatever you want, but Alaric
did
hand you over to us when our boss said he’d kill him if he didn’t.  How else would we have you here? All trussed up and vulnerable.” Henrik ran his hands slowly over her curves, cupping a breast, pressing a hand between her thighs – but Tara kept her mouth shut tight, staring straight ahead. “You can’t blame him for saving his own life. I’m sure you’re a great lay, especially with all your
experience
, but no whore is worth dying over.”

Tara jerked against the cuffs, clearly trying to pull away from him, but he yanked her back against him by her hips, leaning around so he could look at her.

“Don’t want to talk anymore? That’s fine.” He stroked a hand down her cheek. “At least you’re pretty when you cry.”

The soft sound of her breath catching tore out Alaric’s heart, and he hated himself, hated Luca, hated every choice he’d ever made in life – because it had led to this. Had led to the woman he loved being tortured to try and punish
him
.

“Want to try and hit me again? No? Well, then I guess we’ll just get on with it.” Henrik’s hands slid up to her breasts, and Alaric wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. “Your new master isn’t too happy with what you’ve been up to, especially when he spent
all that money
to get you out of the Formato house. So he said we could teach you a few lessons.”

“Do whatever you want,” Tara mumbled, but her voice was empty. It was the mindless, soft, obedient tone he’d first heard from her – and he hated it.

“Oh, I do like the way you say that.”

Louis released him then, wiping his hand off on his pants as he stepped around him, and Alaric roared. “Let her go, dammit! Tell him not to touch her. TELL HIM!” Alaric groaned in frustration, panic and rage filling him up, and he wondered briefly if he called out for Kiernan or Neala if they’d show up here.

Could they do that? Could they hear him?

What if he prayed to Eltera again? Would she save Tara this time when she’d allowed so many terrible things to happen to her?

“Louis, you bloody bastard, do whatever you want to me, I’m the one who broke Luca’s rules, not her! She’s innocent in this!”

“This
is
what we’re doing to you, Alaric. This is your punishment.” He shook his head slowly.  “You shouldn’t have tried to renege on the contract. You should have just done what you were told.”

“This isn’t her fault!”

“No, it’s yours.” Louis walked away and opened a small case against the wall, rummaging inside it before he returned and set a large vial full of clear liquid on the table, followed by another smaller one filled with a silvery liquid, and finally a syringe.

The strange conversation he’d had with Tara in his car rushed back, and he was sure he was about to be sick.

Dreamland is a sedative. Blue and always injected.

Oblivion is a clear liquid. Tasteless. Makes it hard to say no.

Torment looks like silver clouds, injected, and is pure pain.

“Don’t do this, Louis,” Alaric pleaded. Whatever they did to him would be fine, perfectly fine, as long as they didn’t use those things on her.

“I’m not doing anything, Alaric. You are. Now choose.” Louis pointed at the vials. “Based on your reaction I think you have an idea of what these are, but let’s be very clear. This one –” He lifted the clear liquid. “ – is Oblivion, and it’s going to be the kinder of the two, because at least she won’t care what’s happening to her. Although, I have a feeling
you
will care. A lot. Henrik wants you to choose this one for obvious reasons.”