Page 64 of Fighting for Mallory

“It serves me just fine.”

“You will be obedient, Mallory Hayes. Remove your clothes.”

Mallory’s lips curved into a tiny smile. “Make me.”

Quick, like a serpent’s tongue, Dr. Samir’s fist connected with Mallory’s jaw in a vicious right hook. Caught off guard, she lost her balance and fell heavily onto her infected back. She let out a yelp before she scrambled to her feet and lunged at her adversary.

Unbeknownst to Bentley, Mallory had been taking martial arts lessons from Marcus Finnigan at the LA SWAT Command Center. Knowing how closely she worked with law enforcement, Bentley wouldn’t question her visits there.

Though hunger weakened her, Mallory threw a series of right and left hooks at Dr. Samir’s face and upper body. The woman staggered, and Mallory pressed her advantage. She landed well-aimed kicks to Dr. Samir’s knees and swept her legs from under her. Once she was on the ground, Mallory kicked her in the ribs and bolted toward the tunnel that led back to the surface.

Dr. Samir shouted something in Egyptian, and the handmaidens rushed toward Mallory. They caught her, and though she fought like a tigress, one punch landed directly on her injured back and robbed her of her breath and her stamina. She fell to the ground and lay there, panting.

“Lift her to her feet,” Dr. Samir ordered. She no longer appeared regal but disheveled, and blood trickled from a split lip.

Mallory met Dr. Samir’s blazing eyes without flinching.

“Now, undress.”

“I will not.”

Dr. Samir slapped her so hard that her head snapped back. “Your courage is admirable but wasted. Accept your fate.”

“Accept yours,” Mallory spat. “At the moment I meet mine, yours will be sealed. I’ll be watching from above when Luca puts a bullet through your evil heart.”

“He is not coming for you, Mallory Hayes. He has abandoned you, and soon hope will abandon you, too.”

Mallory refused to rise to the bait.

“You have nothing to say? Then remove your clothes so you may be purified.”

She stood steadfast. “You’ll have to rip them from me.”

Dr. Samir emitted an exasperated sigh. “You are making this more difficult than it has to be.”

“If you think I’m going to go gently into that good night, you’re sadly mistaken. I won’t make this easy for you. As you face your imminent death, I want you to remember how I raged against mine.”

“Very well.”

Dr. Samir nodded at the handmaidens who stripped Mallory of her clothes. She bore this humiliation by imagining Luca shooting each of these women between their dark, fathomless eyes.

A handmaiden prodded her toward the wooden tub. She climbed in and sank into the lukewarm water up to her neck. It aggravated the wound on her back, and she gritted her teeth. Another handmaiden offered her a sponge and a bottle of lily-scented soap. As she bathed, the handmaidens chanted a litany in Egyptian, following Dr. Samir’s lead. Mallory tuned them out and focused on the methodical movements of rubbing her skin with the sponge.

Two handmaidens broke away from the circle and continued to chant as they washed and rinsed Mallory’s hair caked with dirt and dried blood. When they completed their task, Dr. Samir ordered her to rise from the tub. A pair of handmaidens vigorously dried her body and stepped aside for others who massaged a sickeningly sweet-scented oil into her skin. Next, they draped her body with a white flowing gown and secured it around her waist with a braided gold rope. The handmaidens parted to allow Dr. Samir to slide gold, snake-shaped ornaments onto her upper arms. Outwardly, Mallory remained calm and docile, but inside she seethed with rage. It gathered in intensity like a volcano on the verge of exploding. She sent her rage zinging on an invisible wire straight to Luca.

Avenge me. If you don’t make it to me in time, avenge me.

After they dressed and adorned her, a handmaiden guided her toward a stone bench, and she perched on it. Gold sandals were strapped onto her feet. “Quite unnecessary,” she remarked. The sound of her voice interrupted the low thrum of their chanting.

“You must be made presentable for Osiris.”

“Fuck Osiris.”

A horrified gasp rose from the sensitive handmaidens. Dr. Samir frowned with displeasure. “Please refrain from using such foul language in Osiris’ presence.”

Mallory stared up at Osiris’ statue. “Fuck you, Osiris. I will see you razed to the ground and cast into the fire.”

Her blasphemy earned her a vicious slap across the face. “You worship a false god who is impotent.”

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