JUMP (The Senses) (19 page)

“Don’t call me that,” she said. She was five foot three and had a small frame, but she considered herself strong. She worked out four days a week and walked everywhere. Shit, she was in great shape. She was not a piece of china.

He opened his eyes, head rolling to the side so he could look at her. “You are little compared to me. And
. . . delicate.”

Delicate? Why
, of all the . . . she hadn’t been called that since her father had died. Even though she was this rebellious smartass kid who spoke her mind, her father refused to admit his daughter was anything but his delicate rose. Her mouth had managed to get her into all kinds of trouble in school. “Hey, Balen, when I escape, I’ll get the police to come get you. Just don’t think I’m going to leave you here.”

“You won’t escape, little one.” He sighed. “Perhaps others will find us, but without their help, we won’t ever escape this place.”

“God, you’re negative.” She shook her head. She was beginning to feel better just talking to this guy. At least, her stomach had settled. Normality. That was all she needed, some sort of normality. “Can’t you have some hope? I mean, people get out of bad situations all the time. All we need is one mistake and—”

“Damn it
, woman, you don’t understand. They aren’t normal.” He pounded his fist against the floor, and the metal echoed.

Danielle fought the desperate need to yell at him. To get him to shut
up with the negativity and have hope for escape, but in a rare instance she bit her tongue. The guy was in pain and didn’t need her harping at him. Who knows how long he’d been here suffering, his hope flushed down the toilet.

Footsteps. She scrambled to her feet and gripped the bars as she peered down. It was that man, the one who bit her neck. He st
rode across the stone floor as if he were floating. Calm, confident and tall, with long black hair that reached past his shoulders. He gave a single nod to the man at the cranking device and then his head tilted up and their eyes met. Red. His fuckin’ eyes were red. God, what the hell kind of drugs was he on? She lost her footing as her cage began to lower.

Fear pounded through her, stomach tossing.

Balen jerked. “Do as I say, little one. Do not fight. Understand? Don’t fight him. He likes the fight. He enjoys seeing it. It only makes it worse.”

Danielle ignored him as the cage lowered inch by inch.

“Damn it, Danielle, don’t try to escape.” Balen raised his voice.

“I have to try,” Danielle said. He might be unable to
walk, but she sure as hell could and she’d fight to her death if need be. No way in hell were these crazies getting her without a fight.

The cage jerked to a halt as it settled on the floor. She kept her eyes riveted to the guy who looked like the one making all the calls. He stood with his hands behind his back
in a casual stance beside the metal table. She shivered at the sight of his red eyes gleaming with the firelight. Shit, he looked strong.

Her eyes darted to the man who unlocked the padlock on the cage and the door swung open. The smell of black licorice came
barreling into her as if someone punched her in the stomach. He reached out to grab her arm.

“Keep your filthy hands off me,” she said.

His eyes narrowed and he shot forward with a flash, gripping her forearm and dragging her out of the cage. Screw this. She reacted, kicking him in the shin, then swung her arm and plowed her fist into his chest.

His fingers tightened and she winced a
s his nails dug into her flesh. “Let me go, damn it.”

She was like a feather against his strength. He had no reaction as he pulled her towards the
table. Her fear escalated. Shit, this wasn’t working out as planned. She renewed her effort as he shoved her against the steel table. She cried out as her thighs rammed up against the hard surface. She placed both palms on the table and then kicked out both legs. He grunted as her legs hit him in the stomach, but he didn’t let go.

Suddenly,
she felt something cold wrap around her left wrist from behind, and a chuckle emerged from the guy who had bitten her neck.

“It’s useless to fight, Danielle. If I desired
, I could have you at my mercy with my voice alone.” He shrugged. “However, I like to see you struggle. It’s rather amusing.”

Her ankle was grabbed and a shackle was placed around it. “Let me go, you son of a bitch,” Danielle shouted.

“A fighter. Ah, so sweet. It will be a pleasure to tame you.”

She managed to punch the lackey in the face as he attempted to get a manacle on her other wrist. He refused to relent and soon she found herself spread
-eagled, lying on the table, her breathing haggard and her anger seething. She continued to fight the unrelenting bonds, oblivious to the cuts surfacing on her wrists and ankles.

“I am Ryszard,” the neck-biter said. “And you . . . are magnificent when you fight like that.” He lowered his hand to her neck and she jerked her head to the side, trying to avoid his touch. He had long
, sharp fingernails and white skin, almost translucent.

He gripped her neck, holding her still. She felt her breath being halted and she struggled anew. Her limbs fought against the bonds, body flailing. He loosened his grip and she sucked air into her lungs.

His brows rose. “Breath is life, my sweet Danielle. I can take it away in a second.”

She spat at him, ju
st missing his cheek. His hand came down, slapping her across the face. She gritted her teeth, refusing to allow him any satisfaction at her pain. Then he smiled and the terror came barreling forth like a bullet slamming into her chest. Fangs. The devil had fangs.

She screamed
, her struggles wild, mind and body gripped with madness. Blood trickled down her wrists and ankles, metal slicing into her skin. She saw him lick his lips, his grin widening. Oh god, this guy had more than a few screws loose. Balen’s words haunted her mind.
Don’t fight.
God, how could she do that when all she wanted to do was get free?

“Don’t do this,” Danielle said. She knew what he was going to do. Knew his intent with those fangs. “God, no.”

His eyes cold and direct, he said, “But I must. You are too tempting to resist.”

She screamed.

“Danielle. Danielle wake up.”

Someone was shaking her shoulders.

She opened her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks like a violent rain on a windowpane. She shivered uncontrollably, her mind reeling with the images that haunted her mind. She looked at Anstice and saw the concern in her expression. She had her hand on her forehead, gentle and kind, smoothing her hair back from her brow, which was soaked in sweat.

A shadow stood over in the corner of the room, arms crossed
, leaning up against the wall. “Balen?” she whispered and then his face turned at her voice and she saw Keir. Her heart dropped and she turned her head away from Anstice.

He had been there. Balen had been trapped in a
cage, just as she was, tortured beyond belief by that man . . . Ryszard. Oh God, the memory she had been seeking for two years was returning and now she wished it hadn’t. The agony he had suffered was unimaginable. How could he have recovered from something like that? His leg. His leg had been mangled, yet he didn’t even have a limp.

“How are you feeling?” Anstice
asked, her voice soft and gentle as she sat on the edge of the bed.

How
do you think I’m feeling,
Danielle wanted to blurt out, but refrained because being rude wouldn’t solve anything. Her brain was trying to decipher memories that were fucked up, and she had a migraine that felt like an explosion of her brain was imminent. But the pain in her stomach appeared to be gone.

“How long have I slept?” Danielle asked.

“Nine hours,” Anstice replied. “How’s your stomach?”

“Fine. A few Advil and I’ll be tic
kety-boo.” Except that Balen was still was gone, and no drug was going to ease that pain.

Why
, when she needed someone the most, weren’t they with her? Balen had disappeared. Anstice had lied to her. Her mother died and with her—her father, not physically but emotionally. Well, until years later, then physically.

“I think you should
stay with us,” Anstice said, smoothing her hand over Danielle’s forehead.

She noticed Anstice glance at Keir and he gave a diminutive shake of his head. They were still hiding shit from her
, damn it. So much for friendship.

Anstice sighed. “Keir thinks we should take you to the hospital. They’ll do some tests and—”

Like hell she was going to the hospital. “Balen.” Danielle sat up in bed. “He was with me. Tortured by a guy named Ryszard.”

Anstice jerked away as if
she’d been burned. “Oh God,” she whispered.

Danielle
glared at her friend’s stunned expression.

“I’m going to carry you to the car,” Keir said approaching the bed.

Danielle sunk her nails into the duvet. “No. I don’t need a hospital. I need him. Balen.”

Anstice and Keir glanced at one another with confusion. “Why do you think that, Danielle?” Anstice asked.

“It’s the pain. He’s the cause or was the cause. Fuck, I don’t know. I just know I need him here.”

“No
, sweetie,” Anstice said. “Balen’s in Spain. Let us help you, okay? Keir will lift—”

The sudden realization shot through her. “You know him? You know Balen? The man in my paintings?” It all made sense. Anstice hating the paintings. Never wanting to talk about the
“episode.” Balen finding her at Anstice’s, then telling her they had to leave. They were protecting one another.

Anstice drew back from the bed as Keir approached.

His expression was menacing, but she refused to back down. “Violet and now Balen? How do you know him?” Danielle asked between clenched teeth. “Anstice, I swear if you don’t tell me, our friendship is history.”

Silence. Tension emanated from all of them
, and it was obvious that whatever she was going to say would have an impact.

“Balen’s my brother,” Anstice blurted out. Keir swore and shook his head. Anstice ignored him and continued. “I couldn’t tell you. I . . .
and I . . . shit, Danielle I thought I’d never see him again. I swear I wanted to tell you but Waleron—”

“Your blasted brother? You let me wallow in hell for two
goddamn years, looking at my paintings, and he’s your fuckin’ brother.” Danielle shot Anstice a murderous look, making her flinch. “Get out. Do you hear me, Anstice? Take your bloody husband and leave. I don’t know who the hell you are anymore.”

Anstice closed her eyes, staggering backwards
, and Keir wrapped his arm around her waist. Danielle felt so betrayed that the pain in her head was nothing compared to the treachery. Her
brother?
No wonder Anstice always turned away from the paintings. Why she had urged her to forget him. He was her brother. Why the hell hadn’t she said anything? Where had he been all these years? They’d known each other since grade school and she had no knowledge of Anstice having a brother. Why keep it a secret?

She wanted answers yet she was so furious that she couldn’t even speak to Anstice at the moment. Her friend could say nothing that could ever repair the damage that was done. Yeah, her get-angry-get-over-it, so not happening this time.

Keir’s voice was low and quiet as he stood towering over the bed. “You speak in anger and pain. This I will forgive for hurting my wife with your words. But remember this—she did it to protect you. She warned you to forget him.”

Danielle was undaunted by Keir’s dangerous
mien. Right now, she wanted him to explode into a rage and end her existence, although even with all his fierce words and expressions, she knew Keir wouldn’t harm any woman.

“Your brother
—” she emphasized “your” as she glowered at her friend, “—he was there. He was tortured beyond anyone’s imagination. Did you know that, Anstice? Your brother was held captive by the same bastard. Do you know what was done to him? Do you know that he never once screamed out in agony, even though a sledgehammer was being smashed into his leg over and over again?”

Anstice went ghastly pale. Her hand to her mouth, tears in her eyes.

Yeah, well, I hope you’re horrified
. “Why is he in Spain? Why did he leave?”

Anstice looked to Keir and he answered. “He must remain there for a time . . . for work. It was decided—”

Danielle’s eyes narrowed and her hands curled into the comforter. “You’re responsible for him leaving? You work with him?”

Keir tensed. “Understand that Balen broke laws that night
, and for that he had to leave.”

“What the hell
kind of work do you do? You fire someone, not make them leave the goddamn country,” Danielle shouted. “He wanted to stay. He didn’t want to leave. You have no clue what he suffered that night. You condemned him after he was tortured? How could you?”