Page 95 of Chain Me
I stirred, fighting to remember how to control my limbs. All senses felt cut off from my brain as if locked behind a wall with no key. In vain, I tried to flex my hands. Blink. Anything.
“You were poisoned,” the speaker continued as my thoughts spun, still hunting for a name. “With something known as Ergot—best to get that out of the way. It’s a rare compound known to inspire all sorts of nasty things in those who ingest too much of it. Paranoia. Hallucinations. Psychosis. It builds up in the blood, you see. Slowly, over time. Months. Years. Though, judging from your recent state, you’ve managed to receive a full dose in mere weeks. An impressive feat, I must say. Admittedly, I should have guessed from your rather thrilling reaction to my little lie that your mental state may have been exceedingly delicate.” He sighed in admiration.
An image formed in my brain of a handsome, angular face. Hair the color of blood. Shifting eyes.
“No bother! I’m not the only one who overlooked your symptoms. Helos may be an arrogant bastard, but I know he tested the blood he gave to you. You’re just lucky he caught on before you finished severing your hand.Thatmight have made things a tad unpleasant.”
I finally managed to open my eyes. Blurred and unfocused, it took them several seconds to clearly interpret the figure before me. But that mocking grin required no introduction.Dmitri.
“Where…” My throat ached as I tried to speak. “Where is Dublin?”
“Off getting more bandages in case you reopen your wounds, I suspect,” Dmitri replied. He almost resembled a different person without his playful sneer. “You scared the hell out of him. Dare I say, that’s quite the feat, given the man’s rather fearsome reputation.” He didn’t even chuckle. Hell, as his eyes took on a wistful gleam, he almost appeared…impressed? “And yes, this is a lot of information at once—I apologize—but this is the fifth iteration of this damn speech I’ve delivered and I pray, for both our sakes, that you aren’t faking your sanity this time.”
Faking?I eyed the room beyond him, increasingly uneasy. It wasn’t mine. And the rich, golden décor didn’t resemble something Dublin would own, either. It boasted of more exotic tastes, far beyond typical elegance. Above me, a vaulted ceiling sported a gruesome fresco—a horde of angels slaughtering an opposing army.
I swallowed hard, tearing my eyes from the chaotic scene. “Where am I?”
“Hell,” Dmitri replied. Sitting on a gilded chair near the bed, he snatched a book from a nearby table. With a casual flick of his wrist, he flipped through the pages. “I never thought I’d ever see a day when Dublin would willingly return to the enclave, to be honest.” He eyed me with a thoughtful frown before turning yet another page. “Then again, I never thought I wouldjoinhim in said enclave. You, my dear, have provided quite the adventure.”
Enclave?I tried to sit up, but my arms resisted any movement. Literally—not for lack of trying. The harder I strained my wrists, the more I felt the weight of resistance. Something encircled each one, rendering them immobile.
“Manacles,” Dmitri admitted. “Or at least silken ones. Your Dublin refused to let me use the metal pair after you tried slipping out of them.”
I couldn’t remember anything he’d mentioned. Panic bubbled out of me on a single word. “W-Why?”
“To keep you from killing yourself, of course.” Sighing, he set his book aside and propped his chin on his fist, sitting forward. “Ergot is a powerful poison. It lingers in the blood and renders the mind susceptible to all manner of disturbing hallucinations. For instance, when you had no luck cutting your hand off, you tried clawing out your throat. As you can imagine, it made for quite the mess. You’re lucky that I happened to arrive in time,” he added smugly. “There is only one antidote for Ergot, and I happen to be among the few in the world skilled enough to make it. Which reminds me…” He tutted with his tongue and stood, smoothing his hands along his suit, a brilliant indigo. On the same small table as the book rested a teacup, which he lifted by the handle and lowered to my lips. “It’s time for your next dose, my darling. Do drink up.”
I clenched my jaw shut.
He sighed heavily. “Come now, Eleanor. I really don’t want to force-feed you your medicine.” His eyes flashed a menacing green. “Again.”
His words were too much to process all at once as a million realizations washed over me.Tried to kill yourself. Ergot. Blade. Poison. Dublin. Gone. Gone.
When he lowered the cup to my mouth again, I squirmed helplessly, resisting my binds. “Get away from me—”
“It’s all right.”
That voice… I turned toward it, my heart aching—but when I finally spotted Dublin advancing toward me, he looked…
Haggard.
Hollow circles swallowed his eyes, though he didn’t require sleep. The unusual color enhanced the planes of his face in gaunt relief. For a horrifying second, he looked every bit his age. Centuries of pain and exhaustion clinging to a human form. Then his eyes met mine and his entire expression softened.
He became my Devil again, wary and distant.
“Drink it,” he said, nodding to Dmitri. “It’s all right.”
A part of me wanted to rail against the commands. It wanted to shriek and scream and demand answers.
Why was my skull on fire? Why was I shivering even beneath mounds of blankets? Why did my throat taste like dirt?
And why, oh why, was my arm throbbing like hell?
My throat provided another dose of agonizing pain. The skin burned with every breath as if rubbed raw. Or, if Dmitri was to be believed,clawedat by a madwoman with brittle nails.
“Eleanor,” Dublin rasped. “Drink.”
For the moment, I chose the safety of his baritone over questioning. As Dmitri returned the rim of the cup to my lips, I obediently pried them apart. The liquid within smelled pungent, as if tinged with a million different spices. With the first sip, I realized where the gritty taste in my mouth had come from.
