Page 38 of Taming Darkness

“This isn’t happening.” Clint rubs the sweat pouring off him onto his shoulder. “You are powerless; I saw that myself. The serum must be making me hallucinate again.” I’m uncertain if he’s trying to convince himself or me. “Yes, that’s it,” he nods and reaches for another device on the cart. He returns to my side and hooks up his latest toy.

My serpent hisses, and grows until it’s standing just as tall as he is. Through the mist of the creature, I get to enjoy Clint turning around to grab something else off his cart, only to come face to face with my little pet when he turns back.

Clint screams and jerks backward, hitting the glass panel of the cell next door.

The girl that lives there watches my snake with a wicked smile on her face. There’s no doubt she knows it’s me, but she’s clearly enjoying watching the scientist freak out as he tries to grasp what he’s experiencing. My neighbor is another Harmony-Fae, and I give her a wink. Instead of returning it, she glances in the direction of the hall. I look over there too, but I don’t sense anything, and there are no auras coming near us.

It’s the perfect chance to unleash more power. My veins wriggle under my skin, and the entire floor is covered in my precious shadow snakes. Clint’s eyes go impossibly wide, and he shrieks, running for the closed cage door, only to nearly knock himself out with it before he notices the door isn’t open. He yanks it open, slamming and locking it on me before running down the hall like his life depends on it. My neighbor bursts out laughing, a bit of life returning to her dead eyes.

I grin at her, giving her a slight nod as we listen to the melody of his screams for help. I let the shadows drop, and she glances back in the direction he ran before turning to me and mouthing a warning.

“They are coming.”

I nod and play dead on the gurney, dropping my head to the side, giving my best half-dead impression from all the so-called torture I’ve just received. I even go so far as to let drool drip from my mouth.

My mother throws the cage door open and stomps her way over to me. She grabs a fistful of my hair and jerks my head back, studying me.

“She looks subdued enough to me!” she snarls to the shivering Clint.

I roll my eyes to the back of my head and let my body twitch. I am going to enjoy Clint’s howls of torture.

Chapter26

~Aleera~

“No, you don’t understand, Ma’am. She still has powers. There were snakes, and they-”

“Stop being foolish! You are hallucinating from lack of sleep, Clint.” She presses her fingers against her temple. “Why did I even bother leaving you in charge? You really can’t do anything right around here.”

“No, I-I swear,” Clint pleads.

My mother releases me, and I drop my head to the side, trying to suppress a smile at his petrified tone. It’s like sweet music to my ears, and I hope my neighbor enjoys it as well.

“Get the spinal fluid from her and drop it off with Samson. If you can manage that without any more mishaps, I want you to go home and get some sleep, Clint. You have been awake for far too long, and it is making you unhinged. I need those who can do their job, not men I have to babysit. If I have to have this kind of discussion with you again, I will see you torn apart and fed to our captives. Do I make myself clear?” she snaps, and before letting him answer, she stomps out of the cell, slamming the door shut behind her for good measure.

Clint whimpers after she leaves, his head jerking from side to side as he searches for my pets. Hands shaking as he grabs the syringe again, he creeps his way over to me and timidly presses my shoulder.

I feign unconsciousness, offering only a twitch in response. The confident, smirking man from before is long gone. He nudges me over until I flop onto my stomach, and I let out a groan. He pokes me with one finger before sighing in relief.

“Clint, she’s right. You do need to get some rest. Clearly, there are no snakes in here; she’s powerless. I must have been nodding off during her session,” he says to himself in the third person. He shakes his head and readies his needle again, while his fingers trace down my spine, finding the spot he’s going to stab me.

It takes everything in me to force my body to relax and let him take the sample. Every bit of my focus is to not let my body resist or jerk as the needle slips into me. I grit my teeth, thankful his attention is diverted while my eyes water.

The process takes far longer than it should, and the pain is intense, but finally, it’s over. The man leaves, still muttering to himself about my snakes.

He leaves me on the cold metal gurney before walking off and closing my cage. I flop back over, ignoring the pain as I stare up at the ceiling. How am I going to rescue my fellow Harmony-Fae? I’m not about to leave them behind; I won’t be able to live with myself if I survive and they don’t. After all, isn’t it my mother who has thrown them in here?

Besides, I have no idea what she has done to these poor people over all these years. Just thinking about that, or what she plans to do to them in the future, makes my stomach clench and swirl.

There are easily hundreds—no, if I’m being honest with myself, probably thousands—of lives locked away in these little cages. My mates will find me, but with the increased danger, all of this could put the Harmony-Fae in greater danger than they already face. Especially if hell breaks loose before I can release them, leaving the Harmony-Fae trapped inside the cells. How will I pull this off without losing any of them in the process?

The bubble of my thoughts pops as I hear heavy footsteps approaching my cell, and I look up. Porter is standing in front of my cell, Lycus' despicable excuse for a father. Has he come here to watch my misery and gloat about his success? Or just stare at me like I was some imprisoned bird?

I had witnessed his atrocities through Lycus' memories, and all of them had scarred me. He could hardly call himself a father, yet I must admit he was better than Lycus' biological father, Lysander. But for a child to have to witness what happened to his mother, then be punished for it afterward, I could never forgive Porter for that. He still disgusts me. Porter may have saved Lycus from Lysander once, but that was for his own gain. He was losing an income source.

All of my assumptions are swiftly proven to be correct from the first line that leaves his mouth.

“So, you’re the little bitch that bastard Lycus fought so hard to find and protect, huh?” He turns his head to the side and spits on the ground.

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