Page 13 of Dark Shadow of Guilt

She woke.

Her breathing steadied. She appeared calm, pinning him with a glare as she sat with her back against the wall, her bound legs out straight in front of her. Despite her controlled expression, he sensed her mind floundering in chaos, screaming with fear. Yet she refused to show it.Interesting. Earlier she had proved a strong subject, fighting his invasion. He would ramp up his efforts.

“Hello, Madeline. Are you happy to see me again?”

Her lips squeezed tight. Her eyes narrowed.

He grabbed the back of his chair and dragged it across the floor, the scritch of metal on concrete echoing through the cavernous warehouse. Sitting near her, he leaned forward and slapped a hand on her head, curling his fingers so she could not escape his grasp.

Once she stopped whipping from side to side, he began.

To Praevus, the mind housed a beautiful, intricate series of underground burrows that turned left, right, up, and down, a maze of interconnected pathways. He always started at the outermost point before working his way inside. The closer he traveled to the center, the greater his control over the being.

Most often he slipped into the first tunnel with ease, the shaft to the mind open, allowing access. Later he might come across a collapsed area—that was how he thought of it—where he had to dig through rubble. If he ran into a wall of debris, he recognized it as damage. Then he backtracked until he could plow forward again.

Madeline required more effort. He realized this from his earlier attempt to breach the exterior of her will. When he could not find an unobstructed shaft, he had left, too exhausted and puzzled to continue. Now he resumed the task with a re-invigorated determination.

He still saw no doorway that led deeper into her mind. Continuing to explore the outer surface, he sought a way inside.

Ah. There it is.

A gigantic metal door. Sturdy. He pulled on the handle. When it didn’t budge, he leveraged a phantom foot on the frame and tugged.

No success.

Praevus paused in his failed pursuit so he could study Madeline. She drew her lips into a grim slash. Her facial muscles tensed with the pain of a headache caused by his intrusion. He rose from his chair, stretched his arms overhead, and bent left and then right. Altering a mind and setting triggers was a physical task as well as a mental one. He laced his fingers together and curved them until he heard cracking sounds.

Better.

Back inside her brain again, he sought a way to disrupt her battle against him. At the imaginary doorway, he turned around, pretending to ignore his task. As he suspected, Madeline, weary from the struggle, relaxed. When she did, he barreled through with a sneak attack.

Success.

He made it into the first tunnel, deception being a marvelous tool.

Praevus, Mind Rat extraordinaire, halted, examining his location and what surrounded him. Hers was unlike any mind he had breached before. Most, even those of Immortals, were open, more easily accessed. But in Madeline’s brain, a burrow in front of him had collapsed, requiring him to dig. Metaphorically, dirt, pebbles, and larger rocks filled it.

He clawed through. When he hit a clear patch, he caught his breath and scurried ahead.

Damn. Another collapse.

Praevus dug his way forward.

After hours, sweat dripped into his eyes, his arms quivered from tension, and his own head ached from the labor. Praevus released his hold on the human. To preserve his strength, he would require more than a couple of days for this mission.

He could use brute force, but that would leave Madeline a drooling, useless blob of flesh. Using stealth and finesse, he would be more pleased with the result. She would become a thrall to his desires, his errand girl, his slavish lover, his waitress, his housekeeper, his cook, his admirer, his greatest fan.

Using his skills on the Scourges in Angor was unrewarding. Their brains did not exercise his superior Mind Rat talents. But now, he was free to do what he wished to this human.

When he retreated from her mind, her eyelashes flickered, indicating she was equally tired.

Rising from his chair, Praevus stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders several times. He cracked his knuckles. Shaking out his hands, he planted his ass back in the torn leather seat. He cradled a palm on her head again to hold her in place and because touch was necessary with someone of her will.

“Once more, my dear.” He smiled though she did not see him. Still, she fought him, her eyes clamped tight.Valiant. Eventually he would win.

To distract her while he invaded, he shared incidents from his life, his eons in Vast, his unfair capture, and his many punishments since his arrival in Angor. Once his words lulled her, he drew a deep breath, traveling to the last point of his intrusion.

Determined, he once again faced collapsed rubble. Larger metaphorical boulders blocked his path. With effort, he heaved them aside until he cleared the way.

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