Page 37 of Taming Darkness

Charles grunts and stomps off, leaving me with just one of the sinister men. Unfortunately, Charles isn’t gone long. He returns wheeling a thin metal gurney, and shoves it at his companion. The other man catches it with one hand, and together, the two of them force me onto the table on my stomach. Their crushing grip pins me down, and panic claws at my throat.

My mother doesn’t get closer until they have me secure. Even if I summon every bit of power I possess, it will be almost impossible to get myself out of this situation. She grabs my bra and reaches for a pair of scissors one of the scientists hands her.

“You won’t need this anymore, Aleera,” she chides as she cuts my clothes off my body. The only thing keeping me from flashing all the men in here is my body pressed to the cold metal. “You don’t have to worry about being gentle with her, just get me the sample.”

One of the scientists steps forward, the syringe held firmly in his hand. I shudder. I can’t even jerk away. His hand reaches out, stroking my spine, fingers searching for the spot he intends to jam that monstrous needle. Finding the place, he jabs the needle into me, but oddly enough, there is no pain. In fact, it’s almost like a little clink. I can’t see what is going on, but the maniacal grin on my mother’s face has vanished.

“Her body’s defense mechanism must be kicking in,” she growls. “Try another—a heavier gauge this time.”

Another massive syringe appears. This time, the needle is much thicker than the last one. I close my eyes, preparing myself for the pain to follow. Instead, there's another clink, and this time, a curse as one of the men holding me down staggers back. I feel warm blood splatter across my back and crack an eye open to see what’s going on.

The needle sticks out of his cheek, like a long metal straw, and the man is cursing as he yanks it out, only for blood to gush from the wound.

“Fucking bitch!” he snarls at me.

Maybe my skin has become titanium? Now, that would be a nice development.

“How is this possible?” one of the scientists, who had been note-taking, asks. He chews on the end of his pen, his big bushy brows furrowed. “She has no magic and the cuffs are on, correct?”

Wrong, moron. But I’m not letting them see that I’ve got magic back. I still need to bide my time. Thank the Fates for the whole body-defense thing. The last thing I need is for her to get away with taking my spinal fluid. I bite my cheek, trying to resist the urge to demonstrate just how incorrect he truly is. It’s not yet time for me to do that.

My mother sighs, her earlier excitement wiped away. “Demonic and Seraphim, remember, Clint? She is part Seraphim. Her mate is a Demonic-Fae. When she is scared, even powerless, her body still has certain safety mechanisms. Why do I have to explain this to you? You’re supposed to be one of the top men in your field.” She rolls her eyes at him. “Greyson used to have to shock Darius regularly, even when he was powerless to drop his body’s shield.”

I wish she would keep going because I would also like to know more about these apparent safety mechanisms in my body that are new to me. That last line, though, is more than a bit worrisome.

“Charge her. You know the drill, it will weaken her body’s reaction. Once that’s finished, I want that sample, and make sure you fill the syringe completely,” my mother orders, walking off and out of the cell.

As I lie there, trembling with a mix of fear and anger, I know that I must find a way to escape this nightmare. The cold metal of the gurney presses against my skin, a reminder of the stark reality I’m now facing. I need to muster all my strength, and perhaps even some newfound powers, to turn the tables and end my mother’s cruel reign. The stakes have never been higher, and I can only hope that it will be enough to see me through this.

Chapter25

~Aleera~

Charles and two of the scientists exit with her, leaving me alone with the bleeding man, and another whom I’ve overheard is named Clint.

Moments later, one of the scientists returns, wheeling a cart, which he hands over to Clint. “I’ll tend to the other test subjects. I’ll return when you’ve got the sample.”

Mr. Bloody grins menacingly as the scientists prepare the electrodes and set up the equipment, plugging it all in. My heart hammers in my chest like a furious drumbeat. I recognize the device; I have seen it before in Darius’ memories. It had been used on him as a child. The scientist frowns and hands a bloodstained hospital gown that gapes in the front to Mr. Bloody. “She needs to be turned over; make her wear that.”

Before I can protest, I am yanked up, and the offensive garment is forced onto me, before the brick of a man slams my back against the freezing metal. He uses his weight to hold me down until he manages to tie me up with black leather restraints.

“Better?” he challenges Clint. “I’m going for a smoke; I’ll be back.” He leaves the two of us alone, and I can’t suppress the excitement threatening to spiral through me. My plan is about to take another step forward.

Clint nods. He sets about attaching headgear to me, which contains wires connected to the control pad before him, and adjusts the strap. He pauses at my icy glare, his lip twitching.

“Do you think a glare is enough to stop this? There’s no pity left in me for someone like you. My wife was murdered by that bastard Xandrious. Watching his son’s mate suffer will bring me more joy than anything this world has to offer,” he sneers, tightening the cap until the restraints dig into me.

He steps back, admiring his work and all the black wires that crisscross my body from the helmet and leads attached to me. He moves back to the small cart and flashes me a sinister grin as he twists the dial.

I smile a moment before the electricity zips up the line. For being her loyal scientists, my mother sure did hire morons. My Lycus' ability was to manipulate electricity. All the volts this little machine could produce combined wouldn’t be able to hurt me. No, all he was managing was to make me even more powerful.

He freezes, glaring at me, then at the wires. He twists the button off, then checks each wire, each lead, searching for the mysterious reason why I hadn’t reacted to his torture. Shaking his head, he returns to his seat and pushes the power button again, twisting the dial as far as he can. His eyes narrow, as if he can make me suffer through sheer strength of will.

The man looks up to check how the session is going, and I smile at him.

He gasps, trying to back away. I’m not the only one in this cell anymore—my shadow serpent slithers out of my skin and curls up in my lap, its tongue tasting the air. Slowly, it turns to regard the scientist.

Clint jumps out of his chair, scrambling to his control station, twisting and slamming any button he can reach. I feel the currents zipping through me, but instead of doing any harm, all he’s done is recharge me. My serpent rises from my lap and slithers closer to the man.

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