Page 85 of Revenge of the Forgotten

Bridger, Vega, and Khort had spent seventeen nights here during Vega’s second life.

“You can’t leave me down here!” she belted, clutching the bars and shaking them as if they might break with her anger. She looked down at both of her hands, her bad wrist no longer limp. She calmed and wiggled it, her eyes shooting up to him. “When you grabbed my wrist back there…”

Bridger’s crooked smile pulled at his lips as he watched the recognition sink in. “You can thank me by being a good girl down here tonight. Don’t give your guard too hard of a time, and maybe I’ll see to it that your breakfast isn’t cold.”

“Fuck you, Bridger!” Vega screamed, rattling the cell bars.

“You have, actually.” He laughed like the sound of a bell ringing lightly. “See you tomorrow, Kitten.”

“You’re going to hell!”

Bridger knew Vega was picturing him burning for eternity.

“Newsflash, we’re already in hell!” His voice echoed off the empty cell walls. She was the only prisoner down here.

Vega continued to scream until Bridger was out of earshot. When he could no longer hear her cursed promises, he let out a breath.

31

The silence was deafening. Vega’s ears rang with the echoes of her gargled screams. She’d finally given up hours ago—she’d screamed until she could taste blood. Her throat felt like sandpaper had torn it to shreds piece by piece until her jugular was exposed.

Her fingertips were burned from the brand on her forearm. Vega had tried to claw the nasty mark off her body in hopes it would release her powers back to her.

It didn’t work, only leaving her more wounded.

Vega curled into a corner to try and find what little bit of warmth was hiding in the shadows. The suit she was in did help with being exposed to the elements, but not enough to stop the goosebumps from forming over the new brand on her arm.

The brand was small, covering only a quarter-size space on her forearm. Vega tried to peel the skin off, digging her nails underneath until the pain was too much to handle.

She rested her head on the hard wall, her knees pulled up to her chest. A sob made her chest heave. After hours of playing tough, Vega let the sorrow and fear take over. The floodgates opened, and tears poured from her eyes.

All of her life—this life—she’d found a way to pick up the pieces and move on, however reluctant she might have felt. How was she supposed to do that now?

Footsteps sounded through the quiet hall. Vega jumped up, readying herself to fight.

Come on, lightning! What good are you if you can be taken from me so easily? The brand on her arm seared when she tried to call on her abilities.

A hand popped through the cell bars. “Here.” A man appeared on the other side seconds after. His vacant stare was cold, annoyed.

Vega honed in on the container of water he was holding. “No.” She scowled. Vega knew better than to trust the food and water given to her down here.

The man rolled his eyes and let it fall to the ground. “Suit yourself. I’m here to babysit, not to make sure you don’t die from dehydration.” The dented canteen rolled to a stop next to her feet, the metal clanging against the stones.

The guard leaned against a beam with his back towards her, staring at the stairwell down the hall—not a single threat to worry about. Vega fizzled with anger, not just from this but from everything that happened today. Getting herself into this position, pushing to get her memories back as fast as she could, the entire interaction with Bridger—had he felt the jolt that went through them when he touched her upstairs?

She thought about the sensation that rocked her body the entire way down to the dungeon, barely giving herself time to look around as he marched her to her new personal version of hell.

Vega should have been paying more attention to how she could escape, not her captor ex-lover’s touch.

She snatched the full container from the floor, moving with an expeditious speed, and lofted it in the guard’s direction through the bars. Her aim wasn’t any good, so when it cracked him in the back of the head, Vega’s smile crowded her face. “Tell Bridger to suck my dick!” Her sister wouldn’t have been the one to send her the water, that much she knew for sure.

Her smile faltered when the guard turned around and icicles sprouted from his hands.

Vega skidded away from the bars as the man rushed towards her. An ice missile shot from his hand and pierced through Vega’s calf, sending her sailing to the ground below. She caught herself, wailing at the pain in her leg.

The cell door creaked with a warning. Vega had no time to prepare herself for a fight. His hands were frigid against her skin, the material of her suit wrapped up in his fist as he heaved her from her seated position.

“Listen here, you little bitch!” His voice was loud in Vega’s ear, his breath hot against her cheek as he spat his words. “You’re supposed to be long dead already, and that little stunt you pulled might have cost you another life with no memories.” He shook her, her head whacking against the wall behind her with a crack.

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