"I wonder if there will be more as time goes on."
"More what?"
"Exactly. I don't know what, but this just proves I'm not done changing."
"How do you feel?"
"Ready to go rip the arms off Arkdone and beat Bjorn with them."
"Well, okay then," Farrow's brows raised, "Let's get this tire changed so we can get going with that well-thought-out plan."
Chapter 58 Holes in the Heart.
Meg had pulled the neck of her grimy T-shirt down enough to stare at her chest. There, left of center was a cut puncture wound into her skin. The skin was puckered red around the spot, like an infection was starting, though Meg knew she would be fine in a few hours with her incredible immune system. That is, if you're still alive in a few hours. She grimaced at her beloved coyote still lying unconscious across the room.
She had been racking her brain trying to figure how to keep Maze from running toward her when he awoke. He would obey her order to stay, but only for so long. Meg shivered and tightened her grip around her knees. There was a damp chill in the cell's air and she hadn't had anything to eat or drink since breakfast the morning she was taken. Though there was no window, she estimated by the way she felt that it had already been at least thirty hours since she was taken.
She had only used the corner furthest from Maze once to urinate. As humiliating as it was, she made herself pretend she was camping, only instead of a shovel to dig the hole, she used the butt of the gun she was able to grab with her feet to keep her chest even farther away from Maze. She figured there was a video camera watching her, but at that point, she didn't care. If that sick SOB wanted to watch, there was nothing she could do to stop him.
The thought of Arkdone and his "offer" made Meg want to throw-up. Just as she was thinking for the thousandth time about trying to reach out with her empath gift, she stopped herself. Arkdone seemed in tune with her gift and may send a blast of pain right to her head as he did earlier. She was so distraught about Arkdone's viciousness, she wondered if she could negotiate something for the release of the others.
Just as she was contemplating the possibilities, she heard a clicking from the door above. Arkdone looked to fly as he leaped into the room. "It's time for you to come with me, dear."
Without asking, he just grabbed Meg's weakened body. Blood still stained her shirt from the last time she crossed him, but that's not what stilled her immediate need to maim the monster who dared touch her. What stopped her from fighting the monster like a ferocious cat was the thought of getting too close to Maze, who had just gained enough strength to open his eyes and whimper.
His hot breath washed her face with its bile and sulfuric stench. "I have great plans for you my lovely little trophy." He turned and jumped easily across the ten-foot expanse of the room and up to the ledge. Meg looked back as she flew in the arms of the devil to see her Maze lift his head, watching her leave him again. Hot, salty tears stung her exhausted eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Not now. Not in the arms of this monster. I will never cry for you, she seethed inside.
"The others have already assembled, but I saved the best for last," he squeezed her affectionately before placing her on her feet. "You, my dear need a moment to freshen up. I've prepared a bath for you myself. Come, I'll show you."
Still carrying her in his arms, he walked leisurely through his sick industrial-looking castle home. Meg was too weak to fight now, something about being touched all over by the pure evil that was Arkdone drained her. She even felt too exhausted to stop her body from moving against Arkdone's, however rigid she wanted to be. His right arm wrapped around her back, his hand holding her under her right arm. His left hand hooked under her knees. She definitely weighed less than her usual one-hundred-twenty-pounds as she and the others usually had to eat a lot of quality food-their powerful bodies demanding more than a human to function properly.
She'd had no food or drink in far too long. Arkdone was speaking and Meg knew she should be paying attention, but her mind, foggy with exhaustion and fear was having a hard time focusing.
"...My personal quarters. Fresh towels and clothes, including undergarments, are waiting for you on the sink. I would be glad to stay and help you." Arkdone feigned an innocent expression, as though he had nothing but the purest of intentions. Meg knew better. She could feel it oozing off him with every beat of that merciless heart.
She shook her head, as he sat her on the edge of the tub and knelt before her, watching her recoil from his large, hot hands on the thighs. "N-no, thank you. I can manage."
Arkdone's shoulders shrugged as if to say, "your loss."
"Please, don't dawdle. Your family is waiting for you and I doubt they're very comfortable in their current situations. I'll be just outside the door, so call if you need me," he smiled, showing perfectly straight, whitened teeth that seemed to morph into razor-sharp fangs. Meg blinked hard trying to clear the disorientation. When she looked back up, Arkdone was stepping out of the large master bathroom and closing the door behind him. "Notice there is no lock on this door." He looked back over his shoulder. "Soon you will see how pointless your efforts have been to keep your secrets from me." He nodded knowingly and closed the door behind him.
Meg leaned forward and slid off the edge of the elaborate bathtub already full and steaming up the room. She crawled as fast as she could to the sink and yanked the under-cabinet open. It was empty. She used the granite countertop to pull herself up. Though her legs shook uncontrollably, she braced herself by leaning over the sink to search the cabinets there. They were empty, too. How does someone live in a place and have nothing in the bathroom cabinets? She was desperate to find a razor blade or a pair of tweezers...anything to use as a weapon. Instead, she got cabinets full of nothing and a glimpse of herself in the steamy mirror.
She looked like a ghost.
"Tick-tock, Meg! Tick-tock!" Arkdone called through the door.
Flinching at the sound of his voice, Meg slipped her hand to the button of her jeans and with shaking fingers, unbuttoned herself. She yanked the zipper down and used that one hand to pull the denim over her slim, muscular hips. Half naked, she crawled back to the tub, unclasped her bra and yanked her grime and blood-caked T-shirt over her head. As quickly as her shaky legs would allow, she climbed into the bathtub and cursed herself for moaning aloud at the joy of feeling the water wrap her deeply in its warmth. She slipped under the water, to muffle her small sounds of pleasure at the feel. She leaned up and used her delicate hands to smooth the excess water from her face.
That's when the door opened.
"Did you call?"
Meg instantly drew her knees up to her chest, a feeble attempt at covering herself from his wicked, crawling eyes. She saw the black orbs gleam hungrily and, for the first time Meg could remember, she felt terrified as a young woman and not a metahuman.
Arkdone was walking toward her slowly, pushing up the sleeves of his thin cashmere black sweater. His black jeans hugged him perfectly over his beautiful physique, but Meg knew better. He was a monster inside.
She was visibly shaking curled up fetal position at the furthest corner of the oval bathtub.
"Here, this will be a nice addition," he said with a drawl as he flicked a switch. First there was a loud rumble then jets burst into life around the tub, causing some helpful bubbles to disguise Meg's naked body.
With terrifying speed he was on her. Instead of attacking, he reached beside her head for the bottle of pink shampoo. "Strawberries," he said smiling mischievously. "I've heard you like strawberries and stargazer lilies."
Meg watched with confusion and fear as he squeezed a large amount of the shampoo into his hands. He reached for her and she flinched. "I want to help you, Meg," seduction dripped off his tongue. Something about his voice had Meg holding her breath, unmoving. He took her stillness as permission and knelt beside the tub, reached out and smoothed the deliciously scented shampoo down the length of her hair. He started at the tips, carefully massaging the cleanser into the locks, which were long enough when wet to reach the small of her back.
His touch was gentle, but searing. Every time his fingers grazed her flesh, she felt marked by his touch. Part of her hated him for the violation of her privacy, but his graceful, careful movements fascinated a small part of her. She caught herself taking only small breaths and forced a slow deep one, for fear she would pass out right there in the water from lack of oxygen.
As though he'd washed a woman's long hair before, he knew exactly how to collect the sudsy ends and curl them on top of her head to work an even greater lather once all the hair was gathered on top.
Wet, sudsy ringlets escaped his efforts, framing Meg's wide-eyed innocence beautifully. The small girl mesmerized Arkdone.
So much power and potential in such a small body, he thought as he gently massaged her scalp.
I could crush her skull right here in my hands. But the thought of hurting her made him crazy with anger. Now it was Arkdone's turn to breathe deeply.
What is she doing to me? He thought suspiciously. After all these years alone, with my work as my mistress, what is this vixen doing to make me soften toward her? He cringed angrily.
Abruptly he stood, suds still dripping off his hands. "Finish quickly. You have five minutes before I come back and this time I won't be influenced to be kind to you. Do you understand?" He turned and stormed out of the room that suddenly felt entirely too small to him.
Arkdone's face was the picture of rage, but Meg had no idea what he was talking about. She hadn't done anything to influence him.
Heck, she thought, I don't even have enough energy to influence myself to brush my teeth, and that's saying a lot. She grimaced as she leaned back into the water to rinse the shampoo Senator Arkdone had put there.
Deciding her exhaustion must be playing tricks on her mind because the alternate just didn't make sense, she focused on finishing her bath. She didn't forget to use conditioner because if she didn't the tight curls would turn into one massive knot. The soap felt amazing on her grimy skin, but she hurried.
She felt a small burst of energy after the bath, where she made sure to drink as much as her stomach would hold directly from the faucet. The toweling off took seconds before she reached for the pile of clothing Arkdone left for her. It was a little scary how perfectly everything fit her...including the undergarments. Five minutes passed too quickly.
She opened the door to the bathroom slowly, looking around quickly for something, anything she could use as a weapon. It looked to be living room, she realized now. The traditional furniture dripped with money and sophistication. Each sofa had dark pigmented leather and plush cushions arranged beautifully on each. An expensive chocolate-colored cashmere throw was tossed casually across the matching chaise lounge. Books were piled beside it, across the end table and spilled onto the floor casually.
Nothing small and easy to grab, damn it, she thought.
"Good. Exactly five minutes. Please have a seat," Arkdone said as he slowly walked a wheelchair to her side.
Meg's pride screamed some profanities, but all she said was, "I can walk."
"You seem much refreshed, but I insist." Arkdone narrowed his eyes, challenging her to defy him.
Knowing full well she wasn't refreshed enough to take on the monster smiling before her, she moved to sit in the chair. Her towel-dried hair pressed cold and wet against her back as she leaned into the chair. Arkdone moved with the speed of a viper to wrap a strap around her chest and secured it tightly behind the chair.
"What are you doing?" Meg screamed. "Let me go!"
"Of course not, my dear. I have plans and they revolve around you."
With her arms and chest trapped, Meg moved to kick, and squirming to slip out of the chair, but Arkdone anticipated this. Still standing behind her, he cupped his right hand and slapped her ear hard. A deafening echo burst through her head and instantly her equilibrium was shattered. She clenched her eyes shut against the reverb in her skull and the rocking of the room.
She didn't really feel the thick Velcro straps being positioned around her ankles and wrists. By the time Arkdone had completely secured Meg to the wheelchair, she was wondering if she would have to rethink the whole I'm not going to cry in front of this monster thing.
"There now," Arkdone was saying. "All set for a quick ride to the lab. I'm sure your family will be glad to see you."
Meg knew she needed to pay attention to where he was taking her, but her head was still reeling horribly from the powerful ear slap.
"Don't think I can't imagine your thoughts, Meg Winter. You'll see exactly what you're up against in just a moment." Arkdone smiled to himself at his cruelty.
He pushed open thick, American Oak doors and rolled Meg into a room. The ringing in her ear was still pronounced, but she was ignoring the pain now that she could see her family. Straight ahead was Creed. The look on his face was relief at seeing Meg but fury at being bound by iron shackles on his ankles and wrists. The iron was incredibly thick, heavy and cemented directly into the cinder block wall behind him. He moved to stand, but the chains kept him caged low to the ground, nearly looking hog-tied to the Texan in Meg.
Ten feet to his right was Cole. After he glanced up to see who they'd brought in this time, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back to the concrete floor murmuring something about this being the worst nightmare ever. Cole was strapped into a wheelchair very much like Meg's. He also looked drugged by the hazy look in his eyes.
Ten feet to his right was her sweet littlest brother, Evan. The look on his face was one of anger mixed with terror. The terror in his eyes stilled Meg more than anything that had been done to her so far. Her sweet, logical brother was terrified. We must be in some seriously deep shit if Evan left his stoicism and ventured into emotions.
Looking back to Creed's left, Meg saw the newest member of their group, Dr. Sloan Mor. She looked crazed, her gunmetal gray eyes darting around the room franticly, her lips taking on a bluish hue. She looked every bit the thirteen-year-old girl she was.
Arkdone began wheeling Meg to a spot to the left of Sloan where there stood a large machine. Connected to it was a helmet-looking device with colorful wires spilling from the back of it.
A shuffling sound came beside Evan and for the first time, Meg laid eyes on the immoral Dr. Bjorn.
Meg felt the urgent need to send her family soothing emotions. This was terrifying for all of them. Without thinking of the consequences, Meg opened her heart and let her eyes scan the room as she began the out poor of love and strength. Her eyes locked with Creed's. His strikingly beautiful blue eyes captured her and fed her a surge of strength. He was sending her one thought continually, I love you. I love you. I love you. In return she was sending...
"Enough!" Arkdone bellowed across the room. He sent a blast of pain as he did back in the cell that seared Meg's empath connection and yanked her emotions hard enough to make her nose start gushing blood again.
"Why do you force me to hurt you, Meg?" Arkdone actually looked to Meg with pain in his eyes. He reached toward the table and grabbed a gauze pack. He shook his head sadly as he used his teeth to rip open the packaging. He stepped closer to Meg and knelt beside her body, still strapped hopelessly to the chair. With a delicate touch, he used the gauze to catch the blood oozing dark down her lips and chin, soaking into the white T-shirt he'd just found for her.
"Don't touch her," screamed Creed and Evan at the same time.
"Oh, I've already touched her," Arkdone smiled wickedly. "I just finished helping her bathe. Isn't that right, Meg?"
Though her head was still pounding, she caught the horrified look on both Evan's and Creed's faces. Cole looked up to see what all the yelling was about, then let his head fall back into place.
Meg felt like a cheap whore at what Arkdone insinuated to her brother and her boyfriend. Her face burned red with humiliation. Having suffered through his attentions was appalling enough, but it was another dimension of horror to have the men in her life, who respected and loved her, know just how violated she had been.
"Well, now that we're nearly all present and accounted for, I'll dispense with the monologue and just get right to the rules of the game."
He spun in the center of the room to be sure he had everyone's attention. His hands clasped behind his back as he paced.
Chapter 59 Little Sparrow.
"All I know is that they landed somewhere in Louisville, Kentucky."
"There could be a lot of small airports that could accommodate him."
"Not as many as you might think."
"How so?"
"Well, it has to land a Falcon20, so the runway has to be long enough. And they would want to have flown without authorities asking questions about their passengers or cargo, so it would have to be a private airfield." As he spoke, Alik was using his smart phone to search the area.
"Okay, from what I can tell, it's going to be one of three places on the outskirts of Louisville. The good news is I'll know it when I see it."
"What's the bad news?"
"These three airports aren't exactly close to one another. Any guesses?" Alik held the map out to Farrow to glance at as she kept glancing back at the road.
She sighed deeply, a worry line creasing her brow. "What if we just took the one closest to us? Maybe we'll get lucky?"
"Sounds as good a plan as any," Alik nodded. "Maybe we'll luck out."
"I thought you said there was no such thing as luck, only blessings?"
"Touche."
Minutes later, they were pulling up into the first private airport. Farrow parked right outside what looked like the main hanger where the building sported a sign reading, "Bluegrass Air Streams."
"Wait," Alik said, his eyes glowing indigo. "I think...yeah, pull the SUV around the back of this hanger."
"What if the cops are called?"
"Trust me."
"Okay," Farrow said with a worried sigh. She backed out of the spot she just parked in and pulled around the back, following Alik's instructions.
"Stop here," he said, eyes still glowing blue.
Alik was deep in retro-cogging when there came a loud rapping at the driver's side window.