Tara (28 page)

Louis set the clear vial down and grabbed the one that looked like a silver storm in a bottle. “This is called Torment, and from what I understand it activates the pain centers in the brain and ramps them up, but unlike with a
real
injury it doesn’t let the brain shut down. No loss of consciousness. She’ll be perfectly aware of all of it, and with every subsequent dose it will get worse.”

Alaric kept his mouth shut, focusing on Tara on the screen. Henrik still had his arms around her, and he was whispering
something
against her ear, his hands taking advantage of her position, but she wasn’t reacting at all anymore. A moment later Henrik kissed her shoulder. “I’ll be right back, pretty girl. Don’t go anywhere.”

Louis sighed as Henrik left the room on the screen. “You should have just picked one.”

When the door opened to his left Alaric tensed, and then Henrik strode in with a wide grin. “Hey pal, weren’t you supposed to make this more difficult for me? Weren’t you supposed to kill me when I came for her, win in this little hitman versus hitman?”

“Leave her alone.”

He laughed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. “That’s not how this is going to go, asshole. You know… Luca always sent you on the easy jobs. His
golden boy
. His sensitive, damaged, foster kid.” Henrik stepped forward and yanked Alaric’s head back by his hair, making his scalp burn as he met his eyes with the kind of seething hatred that must have been brewing for years. “You privileged little prick, do you know how many times Luca sent me in to finish the jobs you didn’t have the stomach for?”

“That’s a lie,” Alaric growled.

“No.
I’m
not the one lying to you. That’s always been Luca.” Henrik released him and shoved his head back. “He’d always have you go and take out the men, and then have me take care of everyone else – or did you really think that all those contracts just happened to be for single, childless men? Did you really think no one ever wanted anyone else hurt?”

Louis raised a hand. “He’s not lying, Alaric. I’ve been sent in after you as well.”

“That’s right, but no one is cleaning up after you anymore.” Henrik reared back and hit him, hard, and his ears rang with it, but he stifled his shout of pain, reducing it to a series of grumbled curses even as he felt his cheek swelling. “I think you’ve finally crossed the line though, trying to renege on this contract. Luca said
you
have to choose how she suffers, and you have to watch. Guess you’re not the golden boy anymore, are you?”

“I won’t hurt her.”

Henrik hit him again, this time in the ribs. Once, twice, three times, and the sharp pain in his side made it difficult to draw a breath as he shouted, his adrenaline flooding him. “You’ll have to fucking kill me, Henrik! I’m not hurting her, and I’m not giving her to you, or Luca, or anyone!”

This time Henrik leaned forward and landed a punch in his stomach, all of the air leaving him in a rush, which made his ribs scream.
Bastard probably cracked one or more.
“That’s fine,” he sounded calm, happy, “because in five seconds I’m choosing for you, and we’ll just
tell
Luca that you picked.”

“No.”

“Five, four, three…” Henrik picked up the Oblivion and grinned.

“Damn you, Henrik!”

“Two…”

“TORMENT!” Alaric shouted, ignoring the pain. “I pick the Torment!”

Henrik slammed the vial back onto the table and then brought his fist into the other side of Alaric’s face, likely evening out the bruises. The groan was covered up by the man’s shouts, “You selfish bastard, you won’t even share her with me when she’s going to her new owner after this?” With a quick movement he had the silver vial and the syringe in his hands, and he walked towards the door. “When she’s screaming, Alaric, I want you to remember she would have been
very
happy with the Oblivion.”

The door slammed behind him as he left, and Alaric felt futile tears burning at the edge of his eyes as his useless rage filled every cell of his body. He wrenched his wrists against the cuffs, kicking the table in front of him hard enough to make the television bounce. Louis placed a hand on top of it, and shook his head. “That was a very selfish choice, Alaric. Oblivion would have been kinder.”

“Not to her,” he growled. His face and his ribs ached, the series of hits that Henrik had delivered had been brutal, but it was nothing. Nothing compared to what he’d just done to Tara.

‘
Eltera
,’ he prayed silently, his fists clenching, ‘
Do something. Anything. Help her, take her out of here, leave me behind – I don’t care – just help her. If you’re really out there, if all of this shit hasn’t just been some elaborate magic trick, save her. Save the daughter you created.
’

The door hit the wall as it was thrown open, and she flinched. The man was back. She tried her best to withdraw again, and she was able to maintain a stoic expression when he slammed it shut. He immediately moved behind her again, his fist tangling in her hair to yank her head back. “Time for your punishment, bitch, and just so you know? I had very different plans for you.”

Tara was confused for a moment until he held a syringe up in front of her, filled with silver clouds.
Torment
. She jerked at the chains, wrapping her hands around them, trying uselessly to avoid what was next. “No, no, please, I’ll do anything. I’ll do whatever -”

“Too late.” The sharp pinch of the syringe made her wince, and she felt the cool spread of the liquid as he pressed the plunger down. “First dose,” he said out loud, and she knew it wasn’t for her. It was for whoever was on the other side of the camera in the ceiling, which she desperately hoped did not include Alaric, because this was going to be bad.

At first there was nothing, and then it hit. Torment was like having her bones broken and filled with boiling water, it was like being gutted and covered in salt. She knew she was screaming, on some level she could hear her voice tearing as it echoed off the concrete walls while her entire body torqued to try and avoid the pain. With effort she slammed her teeth back together, tremors taking up residence in her muscles with the effort it took not to scream.

“How’s that feel? Does it hurt? You stupid bitch. Alaric is already onto his next job, you know…” The asshole was walking around her slowly, his voice a low drone that somehow made it through the ringing pain in her ears. “He told us to just clean up after him,
as usual
. You’re not the first girl he’s done this with. When he’s done, he just leaves. Leaves us to clean up his mess.”

“Shut. Up.” She hissed between her teeth, but the man slapped her again and she gasped as the fresh pain seemed to make the Torment spike in her system.

It couldn’t keep hurting this bad. It couldn’t.

“You don’t want to hear the truth, pretty girl? Does it make you feel like the whore you are to know he just left you for us?”

“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU!” Tara screamed, using the flash of rage as an opportunity to try and distract herself from the waves of pain that were cracking her skin and splitting her joints apart. She shook her head hard, her hands gripping the chain above her. “I don’t. I don’t believe any of it. I love him, you miserable, fucking asshole, and I
know
he’d never leave me. I know he’d fight to the death for me, so do whatever you want. You won’t change my mind no matter what you say, no matter what you do.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes,” she said it as steadily as she could with her entire body shivering.

“Fine then.” He fumbled in his pocket until he pulled out the vial of Torment, and she watched as he refilled the syringe.

No, please, Eltera, by all the gods, no.

The man grabbed her chin and forced her head back, baring her neck. This time the pinch of the syringe wasn’t even a blip on her radar, but with her next agonized breath the pain inconceivably grew. It was impossible not to scream now, and she felt her throat straining with the force of it.

“Second dose.”

Those words filtered in and she wished she could think straight, wished she could coalesce enough thoughts together to pray to Eltera for forgiveness, for release – for death – but it was impossible.

There was only pain, and dawn was so very, very far away.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Make it stop,” Alaric bent his head forward, tearing his eyes from the screen again, but her weak screams kept coming from the television. Every time he thought it was over, every time he thought her body would finally give out, a new one would rip from her and tear into his heart.

“Wouldn’t know how to even if I could.” Louis took a drink from the bottle that he and Henrik had been passing back and forth since he’d returned to the room.

“You should have chosen the Oblivion. At least then the noises she’d be making wouldn’t be giving me a fucking headache.” Henrik grabbed the bottle and took a swig.

“What dose was that?” Louis asked.

“Four.”

“You’re both going to hell, and the second I’m free I’m going to kill you both. Slowly.” Alaric could almost feel the knife in his palm, could imagine the way it would slice through their skin, and he
would
make them suffer. He’d make sure they felt at least a fraction of what Tara was going through.

“Shut up. There’s enough noise in this fucking room without you whining.” Henrik huffed and then stood up, dragging a cell phone from his pocket as he handed the bottle back to Louis. “Hello? Yeah. Yeah, that’s her, let me step outside.”

“Who the fuck is that? Is that Luca?” Alaric shouted, twisting in the chair as Henrik completely ignored him and left the room, but the pain in his ribs made him hiss and face front again.

“You’re not helping the situation,” Louis muttered.

“How can you just sit there?!” He shouted, ignoring the ache. “Look at her! She’s a person! She’s not a
thing
, she feels pain, she -”

“Are you really trying to argue morality with me, Alaric? Knowing what we do?” A quiet laugh rolled from him before he took another drink from the bottle. “
Everyone
is a person, including all the people you’ve killed. They all had family, and friends, and you didn’t seem to have a fucking issue with it before her.”

Alaric turned away from him, hating the way that Louis had cut straight to the core of the problem. Would he have felt this for anyone else? Would he have stopped? He shook his head, not caring about who he had been before he had met her. “People change.”

“Didn’t you
just
threaten to kill me?”

“I didn’t threaten, that was a promise.” He turned and met Louis’ eyes. “The ones I killed before may not have earned it. Maybe they were innocent, maybe they just pissed off the wrong person – but you? You’ve earned it, and so has Henrik.”

“And Luca?”

His jaw tightened at the mention of that name, his stomach twisting into knots as Tara’s quiet screams picked up again.
Damn you, Luca
.

“What? No threat for daddy dearest?” Louis took another drink, coughing a little as he set the bottle back on the floor. “Man, he did such a number on you. He’s fed you his bullshit for so many years that you believe it. Totally brainwashed. You do realize he runs Infinity, right? Every death has his rubber stamp on it. That girl? His stamp. Using the Torment? All him. Nothing happens without Luca’s approval.”

“What about you? You’ve bought the same bullshit,” Alaric growled.

“I knew what I was getting into.”

Just as Louis spoke the door opened and Alaric turned to see Luca walking in, followed by three other men in sharp suits, and then Henrik who leaned against the frame.

Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear.

Tears burned the edges of Alaric’s eyes as he stared at Luca. There was gray at his temples now, but he still had the dark hair, the close-cropped beard, and the warm brown eyes that he’d known so well as he had grown up. It was somehow the same man who had saved him at the lowest point in his life, but now he was the single reason that the woman he loved was in pain. “Luca…”

“Alaric.”

“What is wrong with the girl?” The man next to him gestured at the screen where Tara hung limply, her voice breaking as she screamed weakly once more.

“She’ll be fine in the morning, Mr. Petrovski. We just had to handle a little behavior issue. Will you follow Henrik to the other room? We’ll bring her to you as soon as everything is settled.” Luca’s voice was smooth as silk, and the other man nodded and left with the two he’d brought with him. When Luca turned around his eyes were hard. “You chose the Torment, then?”

“Fuck you.”

“I want you to look at her on the screen, go on, look.” He pointed, but Alaric had seen plenty and he kept his glare locked on the man he had once thought of like a father. With a sigh Luca snapped his fingers. “Louis, help him out.”

A choking sob rose out of the television just as Louis stepped up and wrenched Alaric’s head around, one fist in his hair and the other gripping his chin. He clenched his eyes tight, gritting his teeth as he refused to watch her suffering for Luca’s amusement.

“Really, Alaric? This is just childish. Open your eyes.”

“No.” He forced the word out through clenched teeth, and there was nothing but blissful silence for a moment.

Wait, silence? No sniffling, or quiet crying, or broken screams?

“What the fuck?” Luca’s surprised voice caused Alaric’s eyes to snap open. On the small television screen Tara was crumpled in a pile on the floor, the chain half across her back, but she was down. She was down, but was she still alive?

Dolcezza, I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry. I love you, Tara, I love you.

For a moment Tara was disoriented, the absence of the mind-numbing pain was making her head spin, but as she opened her eyes she realized she was
not
where she should be. The concrete walls were gone, or at least she thought they were, everything was dark. An old, ancient kind of dark. No electric lights, not even moonlight to create outlines, but there was something under her.

She was sitting, on something wooden, and the soft lapping of water hit her ears just as she realized that some of her disorientation came from the rocking of the small boat.

Where in the hell was she?

Leaning over the side she could hear water, but couldn’t see it, and just as she reached her hand down a flash of light and a growl of thunder made her jerk back. At the other end of the boat, wreathed in golden light that faded to a pale green at the edges, was Eltera.

Tara froze, disbelief stunning her into a speechless state that had her mouth hanging open in shock.

“Hello, Tara.” Eltera’s voice was as beautiful as she remembered, unchanged over two thousand years of absence, just like her face. Still impossibly perfect, her light making the dense fog around them glow, while the golden manacles around her wrists shone with their own light.

“Eltera?”

“Yes, my daughter. I am here, although I tried to be with you sooner… I was unable.” A soft frown passed over the goddess’ face, and Tara reached towards her, realizing her own bands were showing. Eltera met her and their hands clasped.

“It’s you…” Her voice broke then, tears rushing down her cheeks, and she didn’t hold back the sobs as Eltera gripped her hand tighter, warmth and golden light spreading through her until she felt peace push back the years of guilt and shame. “Whe- where are we?” She sniffled and looked around, her eyes unable to breach the thick haze around them.

“Ah, this place has so many names.” The chill in the air seemed to sink into Tara’s bones, and she couldn’t tell if they were moving, or if it was the fog that swirled past them, visible in the light, before fading into the black again. “Its name is unimportant though, what
is
important is why you are here.”

“Am I -”

“Dead?” Eltera shook her head, soft brown waves rolling off her shoulders. “No, my daughter. You are not dead, but there is a gift I have for you here.”

As if her words had summoned it, a shore became visible, rocky and unwelcoming as the boat slid against it and stopped. “A gift? Here?”

“Yes, here. We must wait.” Eltera released her hand and sat back, staring off into the darkness as if she were expecting something to appear there, and so Tara stayed silent. Her goddess was there, she
had
come for her, and the warmth of her hand was still a humming tingle on her palm. It was unbelievable.

Had she heard her prayers? Had she heard her through the haze of the Torment?

Just as Tara was going to ask her, there was a bright light and the smell of summer wafted out of the fog. Warm earth, and damp salt air. She flinched against it as the light grew stronger, and then it settled into the buttery glow of sunshine – and Tara opened her eyes. An incredibly handsome, very pale, and ridiculously tall man was standing beside the boat on the rocky shore. He wore a himation in the way of the Greeks, but the dark fabric was incredibly fine and seemed to shimmer like starlight.

“Aspádzomai, Eltera.”
Welcome, Eltera.
The words buzzed inside Tara’s head, crackling until they formed words that resembled the Greek she had known long ago.

“Thank you, Hades.” Eltera answered in the same language, but Tara’s heart stopped.

“Hades?” She choked, standing up in the wobbling boat as panic slipped under the warm peace Eltera had left behind. “I
am
dead. They killed me?”

“No, you are not. I would know.” Hades smiled at her, a chilling look even though his face was impossibly beautiful.

“Then, why am I here? Eltera, please, tell me?” Tara turned back to her goddess who stood gracefully, smiling.

“I already told you, I have a gift for you.”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” Hades turned and gestured into the light that seemed to pour from a place further in from the shore, and the light shifted until she thought she could see rolling fields dotted with dark trees, covered by a sky as blue as ones in dreams. Tara’s eyes watered as she tried to focus on it, and she blinked, but when her eyes opened again there was a shadow framed by light – and it was moving closer. “Remember, young one, you must stay in the boat or -”

His words meant nothing as Leonidas took shape in front of her on the shore, dark curls, bronzed skin, and then he smiled at her. Tara threw herself out of the boat, her feet scraping across the rough stone until she found herself in his arms. A gasp tore out of her as she met the warm, hard flesh of his chest.

Real. Please let this be real.

“Did she just -? Eltera!” Hades snapped behind them, but Leonidas already has his arms around her, his soft voice speaking against her hair.

“It’s you, Tara, it’s really you. All these years…” The sweet sound of his voice sent her into a fresh round of sobs, her arms clinging to him harder.

“My daughters can be a little difficult to control.” There was laughter in Eltera’s comment, and Hades sighed deeply. “She is not mortal, your realm will not hurt her.”

“Only because she is being
allowed
to stand here,” Hades grumbled, but neither of the gods sought to tear them apart.

“Leonidas, I’m so sorry, I’m so very sorry.” Her tears were soaking the tunic he wore, and his hand landed on the back of her head to hold her to him.

“There is no need, no need at all for that. I have prayed for this, prayed that you were well. The worst part of my death has been knowing that you still suffered, that I did not free you before -” He leaned her back from him, his blue eyes meeting hers with a stunning clarity. “You must know that I have never blamed you, not for a single moment.”

“But -”

“No, not for a single moment,
philos
.” His old term for her made her heart break and heal in the same moment. He didn’t blame her, he didn’t hate her for her mistakes, for getting him killed. Swallowing her next sob, she kissed him and his lips were warm against hers. Softer than she remembered, but the quiet sound that escaped him was all Leonidas.
Her gentle giant.

It was like being wrapped in light, filled with sunshine, and then her skin felt hot and the heat focused to a single point on her arm until she pulled back from Leonidas to stare at it. Above the band on her right arm was a glowing, golden handprint, and its twin lay on Leonidas’ left arm. She was confused until he pulled her against him and she followed his gaze, her heartbeat accelerating.