Page 63 of In Death's Hands
I can’t keep track as the man holding me struggles to drag me to the shore. The others are still alive, if the yells I hear are any indication.
One sharp shout has the man stopping in his tracks, and I stomp my feet randomly, hoping to strike anything I can. I make contact, but not enough to earn my freedom. There are hands atmy throat and I struggle to breathe and think. My head is pushed into the water and I kick for everything I’m worth.
“Liv!” I hear in the rare, priceless moment when my head jerks above the surface. But air is still not reaching my lungs. I bury my nails into skin, trying to grasp a finger to twist it and break it, but come up with nothing.
And still, there is no air.
My lungs seize. I kick and jerk around. My knee slams into something soft, and the hands around my neck loosen enough to allow a trickle of air down my throat. I keep at it, feeling the fury of a thousand abused women inside my veins.
When the vicious hands are gone, other, cooler ones grab my arms. I scream and kick still. The pain in my shoulder is its own inferno, but the thought of losing to these men is worse. And I don’t let myself stop; I won’t let myself stop until my body inevitably fails me.
“Liv!” Nathan’s voice is so much closer. It makes me falter, but there are still hands on my arms, and though they don’t hurt or move, I refuse to let my guard down. “Stop! Liv, please…” I feel warmer hands then. Hands that make the whirlwind in me stop, observe, take a breath.
“Open your eyes.”
I hadn’t realised I had finally closed them, the salt burning them beneath my lids. When I do, I see his agonised look raking over my face and body. Not in the way he did mere minutes ago, but in assessment. His eyes widen at my bleeding shoulder, but when I start shaking uncontrollably, he quickly wraps his arms around me.
But I still feel the cool hands on my arms, and glancing down, I see shadow fingers tightening ever so slightly. Oh. Ilook at the shape behind me, and I’d swear I can feel the worry emanating from the darkness where its eyes should be.
It wasitshands I felt on me after it had disposed of the man who had tried to drown me.
Drown me. Drown me.Drownme.
“I know,” Nathan murmurs, making me realise that I was saying the words out loud. My voice is ragged above the once again peaceful sound of crashing waves.
I stay in his embrace, his warm body at my front while his shadow is flush against my back. I am surrounded once more but have never felt so safe in my entire life.
I hear Atys call for Nathan from the sand and turn sharply to check if he’s hurt, but I can’t see much from this distance and with the water in my eyes. Nathan waits for my nod before moving us to the shore. His shadow brings a flag I recognise all too well to cover my body. I’m grateful as Atys walks over to me, bare-assed once again, and gently cups my face with his hands.
“You all right, flower?” He curses before I can answer. “Of course not. Stupid question, sorry.” And then hewinces. I would laugh at the all too human expression, but I’m not sure I’m capable of such a thing right now. Not when I just barely escaped Death. Again.
I wonder how many times Nathan’s boss is going to let me get away as I glance around, at the bodies littering the blood-soaked sand and the one currently on his knees, begging loudly as a stone-cold Nathan stands like the merciless god he very well might be in front of him.
“Please!” begs the man, his shattered knees bleeding slowly on the shiny marble tiles in the large reception room. It looks more like a ballroom than anything, and I gaped when Thalnus, who appeared on the beach minutes after the fight ended, Faded us all here.
His Fading felt different than Nathan’s. Nathan’s was like a breath against my neck, a caress in the dark. A taunting promise. Thalnus’ felt like this island does. Wild, fresh, ancient. Like the cool splash of water upon a weary face. A splash of water I now long for against the unending horrors of the night.
I can hear the revelry still going strong outside the shielded windows. Shielded by shadows and mist, a strange mix of Nathan’s and Thalnus’ powers. Turan had run inside the room, looking torn between scolding Nathan and Atys—who had found the time to drape a Hawaiian sarong around his hips—and thrown her arms around me.
To my surprise, her desire to hug me and check that I was all right won. I stayed stiff-backed and wide-eyed while her arms wrapped around me, careful not to unravel the flag I still wear like a wrap-around dress. She then poked at me, checking every wince before a gentle light engulfed her soft hands as shehealedme. The shredded skin at my shoulder slowly, painfully, mended itself under her light, and I understood why she was there that first time I woke up at Nathan’s. Maybe I’m over everything in my life because, despite clenching my teeth against the very realagony of flesh knitting itself back together, I only blinked at this revelation. At the blood staining my now raw-pink skin.
Nathan has only looked at me once since we were brought here, to check I was healed properly. He nodded once at Turan—who quickly explained that she’d been patrolling the area and hadn’t felt the brotherhood arrive—before turning back to the prisoner.
A chill runs down my spine as I force myself to observe the scene in front of me. I don’t know how long we’ve been here, but it’s getting harder to stand straight, even with Turan’s arm wrapped around me.
“Let’s go,” she pleads again as more of my weight settles against her.
I shake my head, just like I have every time she’s asked me to find a room and rest.
I don’t know why I’m staying, to be honest. I’m sure I’ll have nightmares about the whole thing, but I refuse to be left out. I’ve been thrown into this world, so I’ll stand tall and swallow back the bile threatening to spew out of my tight lips every time flesh tears. Every time another crack echoes in the large room.
I want to close my eyes butcan’t, and when Nathan’s shadow tightens its hold against the man’s arm, tightens so much that another crack, another cry, echoes around me, a moan finally spills out of my lips.
Nathan turns sharply to me, anger and shock swirling in his eyes. Like he’s finally realising I’m still here as Thalnus and his own shadow tear into the man to get information. “Get her out!” he growls at Turan while still looking at me.
At my side, Turan pulls on my hand again, but I resist. I know she could knock me out or carry me out on her shoulder like a potato sack if she wanted to, but from the pained look onher face, I know she won’t force me out. She’s only pleading with me to follow. I shake my head again and look at Nathan, whose face shatters before he turns back to the business at hand.
“She’s an abomination,” seethes Brother Fenrick.
