Tara (6 page)

“You don’t need to worry. How far away is dawn?” Even her voice was calm and cold. When he lifted his hand blood rushed out and he wrapped one of the towels around her arm, applying pressure with both hands as crimson spread and stained the robe and towel.

“My God! You cut yourself deep –
shit
– we can’t go to a hospital. Why did you do this?!” The cold clarity Alaric had maintained was slipping. He was suddenly terrified for her. Had she really decided to kill herself after everything else? Because of him?

“We don’t need a hospital, I’ll wake you up at dawn to show you why.” Her flat blue eyes locked onto his when he looked up at her.

“Dawn? What?” He clenched his teeth against a shout of frustration. “Why aren’t you panicking? Don’t you see all of this blood?” He could hear the pleading tone in his own voice.
Definitely not compartmentalized right now
. Memories slammed him hard and he saw blood on the floor of his childhood home, blood on pale skin. Open, unseeing eyes. Memories he couldn’t handle right now.

“Because I’ll be fine, just trust me.” She mumbled and looked down at the towel, which was rapidly soaking up the blood. Fat drops were on the white tile under her, and the robe she was in was ruined. 

He grabbed her right hand and pressed it to the towel. “Put pressure on this, I’m getting my kit.” Stepping into the living room he was shocked by the blood on his hands and the damp sleeves of his gear. Grabbing the first aid kit off the duffel bag he was almost tempted to use the sedative, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It felt wrong somehow. Moving back into the bathroom he found her sitting on the toilet seat and the blush of color she’d had earlier was gone from her cheeks and lips.

Clearing her throat she smiled weakly at him. “This looks bad, but I promise I’ll be fine.”

“They told me not a bloody scratch! How do I explain this?” Yanking out iodine and gauze he pressed cotton squares over the deep cut. When he blotted some of the blood away he swabbed her with iodine and she barely winced even though he knew from experience how bad that hurt. As soon as it was mildly disinfected he pressed clean gauze pads to her cut and began wrapping her arm tightly.

Her voice was quiet when she responded, “Don’t worry. I’ll be perfect in the morning.” Looking up at her from where he’d crouched to get to her arm more easily, he was caught off guard by how odd the phrase was. Had she said perfect, while she was bleeding all over the place? With a sigh he shook it off and finished bandaging her. For good measure he lifted her foot as well and cleaned and wrapped the small cut on the bottom, but throughout it all she didn’t even flinch.

What the ever loving fuck was wrong with her?

“Come on.” Tugging her back to standing she wavered slightly and he threw a clean towel onto the blood on the floor so they wouldn’t track it back into the living room. Rinsing his hands off he stepped past her, and the girl followed compliantly. Alaric muttered to himself and pushed the couch against the radiator before nudging her to sit down. Leaning her good arm back he didn’t wait before he handcuffed it to the radiator. Her breathing instantly increased with panic as the handcuff clicked around her wrist, and she jerked it hard.

If he was a better man he’d sedate her so she’d sleep it off, so she’d sleep until he delivered her – but he couldn’t.
Weakling
. Since he wouldn’t sedate her, he couldn’t have her hurting herself, or him, in the night. So the only solution was the cuffs. This was necessary.

Fuck, what if they needed her delivered tomorrow? How was he going to explain the cut on her foot, and the deep gash on her arm? He needed to call Luca. He’d never reported in.

“Please uncuff me, I’ll do whatever you want.” She sounded desperate as she twisted her arm in the cuff. The phrase made it very clear what she was offering and he had a whole new level of understanding of what her life had been like.
Yes
, he was happy he’d killed Gianni.

“I’m not going to touch you.” He said it so she knew she was safe from him, and then he pointed at the cuffs. “And this is to keep both you and me safe. If you stay quiet, I won’t need to gag you. Just get some sleep. Goodnight.” He had to turn away from her before the look on her face made him cave and release her.

Then what would he do with her?

Grabbing the bloody knife off the floor, he walked into the bedroom and shut the French doors behind him so he could call Luca on a secure line.

Chapter Six

I’m not going to touch you.

The soldier’s words felt more like a slap than if he’d actually struck her. Of course he wouldn’t want to touch her. He’d found her in a cage, and she was nothing more than an item to be delivered to her next master. He’d made that clear.

Why did that simple phrase even hurt her?

She should be grateful he didn’t want to touch her, but she would have gladly exchanged a favor to not be cuffed to the radiator. Yanking on the metal cuff she fought the urge to start screaming or crying as memories flooded her, but being bound and gagged would be worse.

She didn’t like to be tied down, it was always worse if she was tied down.

The more she focused on the feel of the metal on her skin the more the panic was choking her and she felt the heat of tears burning at the edge of her eyes. She’d said yes to the soldier, she had agreed to whatever he’d wanted, she had behaved perfectly and done everything he asked – and she was still chained. Her lungs burned for the air she wasn’t able to draw in fast enough.

She had to get a grip. She needed to separate from this situation.

Tucking her arm underneath her she allowed the sharp pain from the cut and the steady throb of her arm to start numbing her out. Pain always triggered the reflex to simply step out of herself so she didn’t panic. If she could just get numb she could breathe evenly, because right now there was
not
enough air in the whole hotel room for her to be gasping like this.

Pressing harder onto her arm she finally felt the numbness edging in, overwhelming the panic and the memories that were fighting for headspace. Her mind started to float inside her as she stared at those closed French doors. Then she heard him speaking.

His voice came out clearly even though the doors were closed, the French doors serving as a terrible barrier. “Luca?” His voice was so smooth, but he sounded stressed.

That was probably her fault, he had reacted really badly to the cut on her arm.

“Yes, we’re secure. I have her.” He said the words with a loud exhale.

She had, admittedly, cut deeper than she meant to, but she knew if she didn’t have a large enough cut to heal he wouldn’t understand. Not when she would light up like she was standing in a spotlight at dawn. Most humans didn’t handle it well. Things had gone very badly in the past when they were surprised.

“Of course she’s sedated.”

Hmm, apparently he could lie
. That came out smooth as silk, and she was definitely
not
sedated.

“What do you mean?” He sounded nervous suddenly, and Tara tried to sit up further but her arm was fully extended to the radiator. When she felt the tug on her arm and heard the clank of the metal she had to clench her teeth against the rising panic.

“How is she
weird
?” He raised his voice a little, and the anger in his voice made her feel more trapped. She yanked hard on the cuff and felt it cut into her skin. Memories were surging, memories she fought to forget.

Don’t fight, it’ll be worse if you fight.

“Luca, tell me what’s going on. What did you get me in to? I’m at a hotel with her, do I need to move her?” His voice was under control again, but she was a little dizzy from the blood loss and rapidly growing light headed. She twisted until she could lay down on the couch with her arm stretched above her. It didn’t help.

She could hear their voices, their laughter, feel their hands
.

“Fine. Don’t answer me. Look, I need at least an hour blackout on traffic cameras in the area. I had to leave quite an impression at the location and I don’t need the Polizia di Stato tracking my car from the scene.” His voice had a growl to it.

Tara had twisted as much as she could on the couch, and the stinging pain from the cuff told her she was probably bleeding, but she knew if she looked at it she’d lose it completely.

“Tell me when they decide on the drop point, I want out of this ASAP.” His voice sounded farther away, and she winced when she heard him throw something. He didn’t come out of the room though, she could just hear him moving around, stomping angrily. The sound was growing harder to focus on, especially with the buzzing in her ears.

Black started to creep into the edge of her vision, and she felt like she was being sucked down into a pit where it was impossible to breathe. It increased her panic, but there was nothing she could do, if she screamed he was going to use the Dreamland and then there was no way to wake up from the nightmares.

But, by the gods, she didn’t want to sleep.

She didn’t have her music to keep the memories away.

Tara was kneeling on carpets that overlaid the dirt beneath them. She knew the tent she was in, had memorized every inch of the fabric that formed it. Over fourteen hundred years was nothing to memories this strong. She also knew why the bands on her wrist were lit so brightly… this master had always been angry with her. Pain was already thrumming steadily up her arms, making her shoulders ache.

“Why aren’t you ready to receive guests?” Her master’s voice snapped out behind her, and she winced. The Greek came back to her like no time had passed at all.

“What?” Tara really had no idea what he was talking about.

“I told Leonidas to prepare you for my guests.” She heard him pour the wine behind her and take a deep drink. He must have been in his cups already, because his voice slurred a little.

“What guests, kyrios?” She used the Greek term for master that he preferred, hoping to put him in a good mood.

“The droungarios you snubbed today.” He was angry already, but she really didn’t know what he was talking about. Not like it would matter. The Roman strategos demanded ultimate respect in his camp, and there was no one ranked above him outside of the capital. No one to rein him in.

“What?” She turned her head slightly, looking up at him with confusion. She had not done anything to the droungarios.

“Do you have no other vocabulary?” He slammed his wine cup down on the table and stepped in front of her. She ground her teeth together for a moment trying to stay calm as he yelled at her, but as usual – she failed.

“I have done nothing!” Tara raised her voice trying to get through to him, but the backhand he delivered that rattled her teeth and made her taste copper may not have been worth the outburst.

“Is your mind so weak as to have already forgotten that you walked past my droungarios and ignored their greetings to you? That you acted as if you were above them?” He spoke through gritted teeth, fuming as he stood above her.

“I only left your tent for water today, kyrios, I was nowhere near your droungarios.” She made eye contact with him and spoke clearly, trying to make him see she was telling the truth.

“So you call them liars?” He roared at her and her temper flared in response. The fire in her stomach at how unfair this was grew and she didn’t even try to bite her tongue.

“They are liars!” Tara screamed back, and this time when he slapped her and her head snapped to the side he didn’t stop with the strike. Grabbing her by her hair he wrenched her to her feet and slammed her head down onto the table, a white burst of pain in her cheek bringing tears to her eyes.

“You are a whore! A slave!” He hissed the word through his teeth and it only increased her rage. “You don’t have the right to speak of them like that, you will respect them.” He growled the words as he bent her over the table. Her lip was split from the slap and she tasted blood in her mouth, but her temper had spiked and she couldn’t think straight.

“I won’t accept a punishment for something I haven’t done, kyrios!” Planting her hands on the table she tried to push herself up. Using all of her strength she was able to lift herself even with her master pressing her down and the bands pulsing pain up her arms in time with his angry breaths.

“Stop, Tara!” He yelled the command down at her and the bands responded quickly, the aching pain made her ribs feel like they were breaking and it buckled her arms so she slammed back into the table. “Behave or I’ll have you whipped for my soldiers’ entertainment after your punishment is done!”

Biting back the urge to scream, she spit out the blood in her mouth as he held her down by her neck. “You don’t get to punish me for imagined offenses, kyrios.” She spoke through clenched teeth, knowing she was pressing her luck with the tone she’d said his title. His laughter made her stomach drop, and it was then that she recognized other male voices were approaching from outside the tent.

“Oh, I’m not punishing you.” He laughed and continued, “After all, you didn’t offend me, you offended my droungarios.” More laughter from her master and then the others. All the heat of the rage fled her, replaced with fear that made her shake.

Why did she always let her mouth override her mind?

“No, kyrios. I didn’t-“ She tried to push herself up again so she could explain but he grabbed the back of her neck and cracked her head against the table. The blinding pain stunned her for a moment.

One of the droungarios grabbed her arms from the other side of the table, and leaned his face close to hers. “Don’t fight, it’ll be worse if you fight.”

Her memories were nothing more than a fog of pain and rage at that point. Their hands on her, their dark words, every hole abused until they’d had their fill. The night had passed until she was the only one awake. Every part of her ached and when she felt a hand in the small of her back she didn’t have anything left to fuel her defiance or keep the whimper out of her voice, “Please. No more.”

“Shh.” A deep voice was above her and it soothed her as a large hand brushed the hair out of her face. The shadow of a figure crouched in front of her and the ropes she’d been bound with were undone. Gentle arms wrapped a tunica around her and lifted her like she weighed nothing, curling her against a broad chest as she was carried silently outside. She knew who it was though, couldn’t mistake him for anyone else in the world.

“Leonidas.” She said his name and her voice cracked, and he tucked her closer to him in his lap as he sat down in the open air.

“I’m here, Tara, and I’m so sorry.” His voice was low and rumbling like it always was - her gentle giant.

“Kyrios said you were supposed to have come to me. Who stopped you?” Tara didn’t need to look at him to know the pained expression on his face, or the way his dark curls rested on his shoulders, or how even now he might pull his lower lip into his mouth as he debated his response.

“It doesn’t matter now.” His large hand tilted her face to look at him and he ran his thumb just under her split lip. His blue eyes locked with her own, full of regret and sympathy as he traced every injury.

“Did they hurt you?” she asked. She could tell he was hurting too, and his arms hugged her a little tighter than necessary. The answer was yes, and he needed her presence as much as she needed his.

“Not as badly as you’ve been hurt, philos.” His voice was more soothing than any herb, and the way he called her his ‘beloved friend’ always warmed her to her core. At 6’ 6” he towered over every soldier in the camp, but he was never violent, even when it was well-deserved. He was cool water to her boiling inferno. Sanity to her blinding rage.

“Are you okay?” Tara laid her hand against his and he turned his hand and held hers.

“I’m better now that I’m with you.”

“It’s always better when you’re with me too. Bound together, right?” She started to smile but the pain in her split lip stopped her.

Breathing against her hair she felt him nod before he placed a soft kiss into the top of her hair. “Look at the sky, Tara, it’s going gray. Dawn will be here any minute, and the pain will go away.”

Sitting up so that she was pressed closer to him, she twisted in his lap and ignored the pain to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders in an embrace. “Eltera’s light can ease some of your pain with mine. Hold on to me.” It was never as effective as it was with her but anything would help. Some nights she wondered if Eltera purposefully let her power overflow to help Leonidas.

It was a nice thought.

“It’s dawn, philos, time to wake up.” His voice vibrated his chest, and she closed her eyes against the coming light. She didn’t want to let go.