He cut a thin line from the top of her breasts, continued between them, slicing open the front clasp of her bra, down to her navel.
She refused to scream but it hurt like hell. This was different, this was something new. It hadn’t happened this way before. Why weren’t they ripping her out of the VR?
The cut was deep enough to leave a scar. A warm trail of blood followed the path of the knife. The pain was excruciating.
“Scream for me, sweetheart.” He pulled his arm back.
Mia looked away and waited for him to plunge the cold metal into her abdomen. Would she die quickly? She hoped so.
She’d been strong enough to handle this world. To share her mind with criminals. In the end, it was her own memories of death and darkness that would kill her.
She waited. The plunge didn’t come. The weight pressing on her chest disappeared. Mia opened her eyes. She blinked, taking time to adjust. Eddie dangled a few feet off the ground. Dylan had his large hand around the man’s throat. In the other, Dylan held the knife. His rage manifested itself as strength. In reality, he’d never be able to lift a man off the ground.
He threw Eddie against the wall with such speed and ferocity, Mia winced. Power emanated from him. His muscles rippled with anger.
Dylan spoke. His voice calm, deep, menacing to the core. His attention firmly fixed on Eddie. “How about you scream for me?”
Chapter Four
Mia remained motionless on the wet alley floor, her breathing shallow. Her pulse thundered around her body. She shivered slightly, partly from the cold, partly from fear. Her torso and breasts were exposed to the damp night air. Blood congealed in a pool at her navel. She was thankful Dylan had returned.
She shifted, winced as the pain lanced through her. She would have another scar, another stain of evil on her soul. The body experienced trauma and shock the same way in both worlds—getting cut here meant getting cut in the real world.
Eddie lay unconscious, no longer posing any threat. Dylan turned his attention to her.
He drank in her appearance. She felt no shame or embarrassment as he perused her body. She wouldn’t hide herself from him. She was enthralled by his physical responses—the nerve twitching in his jaw, moisture lingering on his lips as he licked them.
When he growled, it was loud enough for her to hear. Loud enough for her to regain her senses. Feeling foolish, she pulled her shredded blouse around her. The cut hurt like hell.
“Take a good look?” she barked. She shuffled away, scooted against the opposite wall. When she rested her head back, intense pain caused her to yelp. She’d gotten a head injury too. Fantastic.
Dylan shrugged. “I didn’t see you hurrying to cover yourself, Doc.”
He was so in control. No hint of the violence he had unleashed. Eddie stirred behind them. Mia flinched. How could she explain this construct?
“Poor Dr. Simon.” He walked back, kicked Eddie and revealed her claw marks on his arms. “Looks like you put up a fight.”
“Fuck you.” She wiped her mouth. It came away red.
When did her mouth start to bleed? Surely her vitals were going crazy. Why weren’t her colleagues pulling her out?
Dylan laughed, loud and hard. The sound reverberated around the alley. Eddie rolled over, moaning as Dylan turned his attention back to Mia.
“What’s the matter? Truth hurt?” He tilted his head to the side. “Obviously this asshole is someone from your past. How did it feel when you were tearing at his flesh, wounding him, inflicting pain? Did it satisfy you? Did it excite you to get revenge?” He stalked toward her.
“I felt hate. Intense hate. A primal urge to cause him enormous pain. I didn’t want to be a victim the second time around.” The cut on her abdomen throbbed.
Dylan lifted her carefully by the elbows until she stood. He rested her against the wall, steadying her. His intense stare made her uncomfortable but she wouldn’t look away.
She inhaled as he ran the pad of his thumb over her lips, wiping away the blood.
“Hate. Rage. Passion. All these emotions are what make you like me. The darkness you seek is a mixture of emotions—pain, hate, fear, passion. It’s not some mythical creature inside our bodies. We aren’t possessed by a demon. The darkness is the primitive side of your personality that you keep locked away.” He pushed a stay strand of hair behind her ear. “Even passion, true passion, not petty fumbling or a quick fuck, comes from the darker side of your soul.”
Blood thundered in her ears. Her heart pounded. Tentatively, she reached up and fingered his crow’s feet. He didn’t stop her. She traced the bone, the tender creases of his lids. When she smiled, he frowned.
“What?”
“The devil in the dark they all fear is nothing more than a fallen angel with a hole in his soul.” She moved lower, tracing the velvet pillow of his lips with her thumb. “Holes can be repaired.”
He gripped her wrists, jerking her away. “I lost my soul a long time ago.”
A sense of weakness hit her. Her knees buckled.
Then Dylan was kissing her. His lips grazed hers. Her eyelids fluttered shut. When she opened to his caress and his tongue met hers, a surge of energy bolted through her.
His essence poured into her body. She knew him completely. More completely than she knew herself. She tilted her head to the side. She needed to take more of him, to taste more. His taste was liquid fire in her blood.
Dylan pulled away, leaving her gasping and hot. She moaned, opened her eyes to meet his.
What she saw there—recognition, confusion—made her press her fingertips to her swollen lips. “You felt it too?”
Instead of answering, he kissed her again. Harsher. Deeper. More passionately. He fisted her hair as his tongue dueled with hers.
Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours, for one lone soul another lonely soul…
The poem sprang into her mind as she kissed Dylan, the words resounding in her head. Strange that such a poem should appear now, when she felt so consumed, when fire lit her blood. When she could feel his heart beat against hers, when she could feel his thoughts in her mind.
She opened her eyes and screamed.
* * * * *
Dr. Enrico Ramierez stood over Mia’s unconscious form. He smoothed back her hair. He’d tried to stop her from going into the VR with Dylan but she’d been so confident. He remembered the haughty look as he’d pleaded with her not to go.
He touched her shoulder, gaining her attention. She looked up at him from her seated position on the gurney. “Mia, did…was what he said true? About being a slave?”
Her pout faltered slightly before the mask slid back into place. “Does it matter?”
“Yes! Of course it matters. It’s horrific.”
“It’s the past.”
Paralyzed by fear and shock, he said, “You can’t go.” He wouldn’t let her experience any more trauma in her life.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t stop me.”
“Please. He knows too much about you. It could be dangerous,” he pleaded with her.
“I’m going. If you won’t put me under, I’ll find someone who will. Trust me, Enrico.”
“Be careful.”
If she got injured in the VR, it would translate into the real world. And he’d sent her into the virtual world.
Then her vitals starting spiking. Wounds appeared on her body. They couldn’t stop the bleeding. This had never happened before. He couldn’t pull her out. He’d tried the override code. Dylan must have found a way to block the failsafe.
Something had gone horribly wrong.
She needed blood. She was a rare type. Very rare. They’d needed an exact type and cross-match, otherwise it could kill her.
A technician raced into the med bay. His breathing labored, he held up a piece of paper with numbers on it. “Perfect match, sir.”
He heaved a sigh of relief. Dylan Benjamin was a perfect match. What were the odds of that? “Thank you, Walker. Prepare the transfusion. Insert an IV into Benjamin and get it started. Quickly, people!”
Her heart was slowing. He was losing her. His friend. His colleague. The fearless woman who challenged the planets’ worst prisons to delve into the minds of criminals. He admired her immensely, even loved her in some corner of his soul.
Leaning down, he brushed her cheek with his lips. “Wherever you are, Mia, whatever plane you’ve been drawn into, I pray it’s more pleasant than here. Hang on.”
Blood flowed into her body. They had a chance to save Mia. He hoped it was enough.
All they could do was wait.
* * * * *
She screamed. Long and hard. She wasn’t in an alley with Dylan. It wasn’t even dark.
Bright lights. White ceiling.
She was lying down. The distinct smell of disinfectant assaulted her senses. She lifted her arm and saw an IV attached to her vein. Why was she receiving a transfusion?
Memories flooded back. Entering the VR, chasing Dylan, playing mind games, the alley, the kiss…
She looked to her left and focused on the person on the next gurney. The lithe, powerful form. The muscular torso. The dimpled chin and blond hair.
Dylan.
Her mind called to him.
As if he’d heard her, he turned his head. He blinked and focused on her. Understanding passed between them.
Something had happened while they’d been in the VR. They had been irrevocably linked—emotionally and physically. She felt his blood flowing through her veins. She could feel his passion, his power, his anger.
When he smiled at her, she realized he felt it too. He could hear her in his mind. His dark side craved hers. Craved
her
. The psychologist and the thief. Mia and Dylan. Yin and yang. Linked by blood.
She licked her dry, cracked lips and returned his grin. “Hello, Dylan.”
* * * * *
Mia shivered. She rubbed her upper arms and surveyed her surroundings.
A semi-lit abandoned warehouse. A ring of chairs were placed around a small raised platform. Chains hung from the roof.
Panic ignited. She couldn’t breathe. She’d been here before.
She swallowed her fear and repeated her mantra. “It’s just dream. Just another dream.”
“But they feel so real, don’t they?” Dylan stepped behind her. His heat seeped into her and her heart began to pound for an entirely different reason.
“Yes, they feel real. I don’t know why we share the same dreams.”
He stroked a fingertip down the back of her neck. “Because we share the same blood. Yin and yang now. Same part of the whole.”
She moved away despite her body screaming for him to take her, tie her, fuck her. Her nipples peaked. Hardened, sensitive pebbles that strained against her cotton bra, begging to be touched.
“This is your dream. What part of your past?” he asked.
“Are you sure you want to know?” She smoothed her brow, massaged the pulse points of her temples.
This had been the lowest point of her life. The darkest episode. She didn’t understand what had made her bring them here.
“Is it something to do with your mom? Is it something you saw?”
Mia snorted. “If only. The only good thing while growing up was that Mother stuck to the straight stuff. No kink, no violence, no permanent marks. Sure, some of her clients knocked her around but she never got involved in anything like this.” She circled the platform, jangled the chains. She looked at Dylan over her shoulder. “This happened much later.”
A tic beat wildly in his jaw. “Show me.”
The dream changed, melded into something else. They stood on the periphery as men filled the seats. These men were different from the ones in Hades. They wore expensive suits and were well groomed.
Bile rose in Mia’s throat as a man dragged a naked, blindfolded woman to the platform. He shackled her wrists and pulled the chain, snapping her body taut as she stood on tiptoes.
“Mia, what’s going on?” Dylan’s touch withdrew her from the scene.
“It’s me. That woman. It’s me.”
Men approached the platform, stroked her naked form as she twisted and turned.
It was surreal, like an out-of-body experience.
“They can’t hurt you now.”
“I know. I still feel raw though. Scared. This was the first time I did group stuff. After this, they hired me out for these parties and I was the main attraction.”
They plumped her breasts, plucked her nipples. One of them caressed her pussy lips and she jerked against her bonds, pushing her body closer to the man who’d touched her.
“Eventually I grew to enjoy it.” Shame colored her cheeks. She’d never admitted that to anyone. Never voiced her desires. She turned away from the grunts and moans to look at Dylan. “That’s fucked up, isn’t it?”
“No.” He stroked her cheek. “No, it’s not. Psychological conditioning usually happens as a result of sexual abuse.”
“I know. Believe me, I’ve read the textbooks. I know it wasn’t my fault.” It didn’t stop the shame from stealing her breath.
“Why did you show me this, Mia? What made you bring me to this place?”
Mia shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Heat flushed her skin at his harsh tone.
“Is this something you want?”
“No.” She didn’t want this, didn’t want to be chained and fondled by strangers.
“Is it something you need?”
“Yes.” She whispered the word, hoping he wouldn’t hear. Her gaze downcast, she focused on the floor.
How could she look at him? How could she explain the need to be shackled? Back then she didn’t have a choice, didn’t have the power to choose her response. Now she was in control. She could choose what brought her pleasure and she wanted to be chained. By him.
“Look at me.”
She did as he commanded.
“Never be ashamed of what you need. Have you tried this with anyone since your past?”
“No. I never trusted anyone enough.”
“Good, otherwise I’d have to kill them.”
She didn’t think he was joking.
He banded an arm around her waist and dragged her body flush against his. Excitement sparked her nerve endings. He pressed his mouth to her ear. “I can give you what you need. I’m
going
to give you what you need.”
* * * * *
Mia bolted upright in the darkness. She sucked air into her lungs, tried to calm her racing heart. Another damn dream. Just another night she woke aroused and aching.