Saven Defiance (The Saven Series Book 4) (7 page)

“You gross me out,” he says, entering Logan’s cell. It’s the same guard who attended to Evana earlier. Yanking Logan up by the shoulders, he snatches him away from the bar, tossing him roughly onto the floor. “She killed your father, yet you look at her like she’s the only thing that matters in the universe. You’re a sick fuck.” He kicks Logan hard in the stomach, repeatedly, and I scream. Logan doesn’t utter a word as he curls into a ball and hugs his knees to his chest. His eyes are clamped shut. If he wasn’t already so weak, I’m sure he would fight back, but he can’t summon the energy to even try.

A ball of fury ignites the fire inside me, and I hop up, bursting with unspent power. My wrists seem to swell, and the deflective cuffs feel even tighter, as if my skin is straining against them. “Stop it! Stop hurting him! And I didn’t kill King Adjani. Dante did.”

“Liar!” the guard shrieks, pointing his finger in my direction. “Dirty, filthy liar. King Dante said you’d try to manipulate us, but you can save your breath. It won’t work. Besides”—he flashes an evil grin—“we have something infinitely more exciting to focus on.”

The tinny sound of my cell door opening sends a flurry of panic whipping through me. The other guard stalks toward me, followed by the asshat who has just vacated Logan’s cell. Backing away from them, I suppress my mounting fear.

“Stay away from her,” Logan growls, hauling himself to the mesh wall. He shakes the steel bars. Ignoring his outburst, the guards prowl toward me. I continue to retreat until my spine slams against the hard wall at my back.

There is nowhere to run.

My eyes flit to the open doorway, and I quickly calculate my chances of fighting my way out of this.

“Don’t even think about it,” asshat number one says, waving a long black hose-like object in front of me. “I’d hate to mess up that pretty face.” The look on his face conveys the opposite sentiment.

The other asshat lunges at me, seizing my arm painfully.

“Don’t touch her.” Logan barks out a menacing warning, but it lacks substance. Given our predicament, they know it’s an empty threat.

Until we get out of here.

Then all bets are off.

“Shut your face or I’ll shut it for you.” The guard’s focus doesn’t stray as he continues to eyeball me warily.

“How dare you speak to your crown prince in such a disrespectful manner,” I protest.

The guard harrumphs. “He stopped being my crown prince the moment he hooked up with you.”

There’s no reasoning with them, so I give up even trying.

The guard swings me around in front of him, flexing his muscular arm tight across my upper arms so I’m restrained in a vice-like grip. The other guard flicks a button on the hose, and it surges to life. A thin red line shoots out of the opening at the top, and I instantly flinch. Bile rises in my throat. He edges closer, a wicked grin spread across his mouth. Logan is yelling obscenities and a variety of different threats, but they don’t even acknowledge him. My instinct is to fight my way out of this, but I’m terrified of the laser beam. I’ve seen what the Tor did to Thalassic City, and what the Saven and Amararetti did to my fellow humans on Earth, with something similar.

One false move and I could be turned to dust.

I have more self-preservation than that.

So, I hold still as he lowers the beam to my wrists. “This might hurt a little.” The two guards share devilish grins, and the torrent of threats and cusses flowing from Logan’s mouth accelerate in flavor and volume.
Who knew he had such colorful vocabulary?
It’s a side of him I’ve rarely seen.

I brace myself for the impact, but nothing could prepare me for the searing hot pain that whips up and down my arm as the beam touches the center of the silver band on my left wrist. Attempting to exercise some control—because I know how much it will upset Logan to see me in pain—I squeeze my eyelids shut as water starts leaking, involuntarily, out of my eyes. Humming to myself, I visualize a happy place, a happy time, and try to ignore the throbbing pain.

The pain intensifies as the guard switches from one cuff band to the other in quick succession. Blistering heat boils the blood in my veins, and painful sparks zip up and down my arms. My incendio gift reacts powerfully to the threat, adding more fuel to the fire. I literally feel like I’m burning up from the inside out. Doused in agony, my tenuous control is starting to slip.

I open my eyes as the guard increases the power, and a thicker strip streams from the hose directly onto the center of the silver cuff band.

A deafening, horror-filled scream emits from my throat as flames of fire dance over the steel bands at my wrist and start licking the skin on my arms.

I can’t halt my natural reaction. A steady shrill scream lets loose as I buck in my captor’s arms, desperate to escape the scorching sensation burning my flesh.

The pain is indescribable.

A dry, acrid odor mixes with the smell of charred flesh as my entire body vibrates in agony. Nausea overwhelms me, and I puke all over the guard holding the hose. Pouncing forward, with a ferocious look, he slaps me hard across the face. My head spins back as I start to drift into unconsciousness.

Logan’s frantic screaming is the last thing I hear before I pass out.

The instant I reopen my eyes, an involuntary moan slips out of my mouth. My arms cry out in silent torment as the worst pain imaginable threatens to resurrect the dark blanket of unconsciousness.

I would actually welcome it if it means I don’t have to feel.

Tiny whimpers leak through my lips as I blink my eyes fully open. Logan is pressed tight against the steel bar. Worry lines furrow his brow and crinkle his eyes as he watches me with blatant concern.

I want to reassure him, but that would be an outright lie, and I’ve promised him honesty going forward. I address him from my horizontal position on the floor. “What happened?” My voice cracks, and his frown expands.

“They couldn’t get the bands off, so they stopped eventually,” Evana says in a gentle tone from behind me. I wonder what the hell they are constructed of if even a laser beam can’t cut through them. And where did Griselda find something like this?

“As soon as I get the chance, I’m going to turn the laza on them and see how they like it. I’m going to rip them apart. Slowly. Limb by limb. They will experience the worst death I can inflict. And that’s a promise.”
A muscle pops in Logan’s taut jaw as he silently vents on my behalf.

“I’m down with that plan, as long as I get to inflict the torture too.”
My attempt at humor dies an immediate death.

“You’ll go nowhere near those putrada. They are mine.”

I don’t argue any further. I’m too weak, in too much pain. Gritting my teeth, I attempt to sit up. The second my hands touch the floor, a sweltering pain rips through my limbs, and I scream from the top of my lungs. Tears cascade from my eyes like a leaky faucet. My chest heaves painfully as I sob.

Logan climbs to his feet and shoots a volley of alien words at the two guards in the corridor. They barely bat an eyelid. Cursing, he screams a bit more and then storms back to the side of the cell. He crouches down on bended knee. “Try not to move, if you can. The skin is badly burned on both arms to your elbows.”

I crank out a shrill laugh that’s part humor and part grief. “That’s all? Stars, it feels like my whole body is one giant mass of scorched flesh,” I admit truthfully. “I don’t think ‘not moving’ will be an issue. I can’t even flex my hand without excruciating pain.” As if I need to demonstrate that statement, I bend my fingers and piercing darts of pain attack me. My vision blurs as pain invades every part of me.

Logan paces the cell in agitation. At least I seem to have distracted him from his own injuries.
“Does Dante know about your gift?”

“Not that I’m aware of. I told him it was a tracking device. At the time, I thought it was smart to deflect his interest. Right now, I’m not feeling very smart.”

“I wonder what he’s up to.”
He scrubs a hand over his prickly jaw.
“Dante is completely unhinged, and it’s only a matter of time before he goes postal. He wants us to pay, publicly, for our supposed crimes, but he didn’t elaborate beyond that. I hope the others hurry up.”

Hope is beginning to dwindle, and it’s difficult to stay positive in my current condition. I can’t move a millimeter without extreme pain, and I’ll be more of a hindrance than a help when the time comes to escape. “
Dante is completely delusional and hell-bent on world domination. He’s crazy.
” Recalling our most recent encounter, I shudder at the thought of what he has planned for us.

“
Evana says his last interaction with my father had him completely incensed. She said she’s never seen him in such a rage. He went on a rampage through the palace, destroying everything in sight, indiscriminately killing anyone who tried to stop him, anyone who tried to help. Whatever Dad told him before he died pushed him over the edge.”

Just then, an outer door opens, and the march of numerous footsteps gets closer and closer. Logan and I swap wary expressions. I can’t see much from my prostrate position on the floor, but the creaking of simultaneous door openings sends my heart rate into coronary-inducing territory.

“This isn’t good, Sadie.”
Logan hops up as several pairs of booted feet surround him on all sides.

“Get. Up.” A voice resonates above me.

“I can’t.” A searing pain spreads across my stomach as the guard kicks me swiftly in the gut. Logan yells at him in his native language.

I don’t know whether
I
and
pain
exist on separate planes anymore. We are one and the same. I can’t feel my body anymore, only agonizing pain that I fear will define me forever. Hands lift me under the arms, and I’m wrenched off my feet. My guttural screams echo around the cavernous space. Once I start, I can’t stop.

“Stars, can’t you shut her up?” someone asks.

I’d actually welcome it. A fist in the face. I’d love to black out so I can’t feel anything anymore.

Someone lifts my legs and hoists me over their shoulder. I scream my head off as my arms press against his upper torso. The pain is too awful for words. Another guard unpins my arms and carelessly tosses them so they dangle down the guard’s back. Bits of flaky skin flutter to the ground. My screams ramp up a notch. It’s a mix of pain and revulsion as I catch a glimpse of my injured arms for the first time. Bubbling blisters mark an uneven path along my raised red and black flaky skin. I look like something from a horror movie.

Shuffling in the corridor momentarily distracts me. I lift my chin and watch as Logan wrestles with some of the guards, potent rage contorting his features. Still too weak and clearly outnumbered, he quickly succumbs. They take turns landing blows on his head and torso. Fire simmers in my veins, and I wish I had a way to release it, a way to halt the horrific beating Logan is being subjected to. He lashes out with his fists, and they continue torturing him.

“Stop fighting, please.”
I silently plead.

He doesn’t even have the ability to respond. Blood glides off his injured face onto the floor.

“Logan!” Evana cries out as he slumps to the ground in a crumpled heap. “Don’t ever forget how much I love you. Never stop fighting.” Tears course down her cheeks as she clutches the metal bars. I don’t even know if he heard her. Her anguished eyes lock on mine, devoid of all hope.

“We will come back for you,” I mouth.

Logan and I are removed from the dungeons in an incapacitated state. Logan is out cold, and I’m worried about him. Two soldiers prop him up by the arms—one on either side of him—as they drag him down successive corridors, up a multitude of steps, and out into, what I presume is, the main palace foyer. Logan’s booted feet scrape the ground as they trail behind his unconscious form.

The noise of hundreds, maybe thousands, of voices, grows louder and louder the farther we walk through the palace. The guard carrying me slows down every few steps, his breathing becoming more shallow and erratic. Gradually, the others overtake us until we’re hanging at the rear.

Good. Maybe, he’ll drop dead from the effort.

A few minutes later, we emerge into a large courtyard. The white stone floor is rimmed by a multitude of differing shrubs, flowers, and plants, on all sides. It’s actually rather pretty. A floral aroma swirls around me, and the cool, early evening air is like a balm to my damaged skin. The noise of a large crowd is undeniable out here. Given how I’m thrust over the soldier’s shoulder, I’m at a significant disadvantage, as I can’t tell what’s ahead. I don’t know what we are moving toward, only that it seems to be the actual manifestation of Dante’s threat.

My bones ache with the jarring movement of the guard’s laborious walk, but my arms don’t hurt as much anymore. Either I’m numb to it or I’ve grown accustomed to the pain.

We walk for what seems like ages but is probably no more than ten or fifteen minutes. He comes to a standstill, tilting forward and pulling me down off his shoulders. Tiny darts of pain flutter up my arms, but it’s manageable. I look down at my arms and blink a few times. I could’ve sworn they looked worse, more damaged, back in the cell. Although, that might’ve been the lighting.