Touched by Lightning Page 19

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brit heard the screams long before he reached the isolation cells located beneath El Dorado. The words were barely understandable, but there was no mistaking the pain in them, the hatred and fury in them. They barely had time to die off before the next one began, the unrelenting litany making the guards leading him through the facility twitchy. Even the other prisoners were silent, their eyes wide as they listened to those unrelenting howls.

  His heart didn’t ache, it was pulverized. Guilt and self-disgust flayed his soul because he’d hurt the one woman who held his heart. Yeah, great time to realize you were in love. When you were reaching out to incapacitate your lady love as she tried to kill your cousin. But he’d known he loved her because he’d only had two choices when Gyda lunged at Asa with murder in her eyes. Knock her out and hope they could break through to her in a more protected environment, or watch her be executed for killing one of the O.T.’s most valuable members. He’d chosen to lock her up rather than let her die for her attack because if she was alive, at least there was a chance of redemption.

  There was no redemption for him. From Joe down to the recruits, everyone looked at him with wariness and a little hint of disgust. Brit reached up to rub the back of his neck, hoping to ease a little of the tension. Fat lot of fucking good it did. His body was nothing more than a knotted mass of stress and had been ever since Gyda fell to the floor of his porch, more animal than human, body twitching from the powerful jolts of electricity he’d sent into her. Chaos had reined for several minutes as Joe teleported out only to return with restraints. The recruits had been scared to death about the near miss, requiring Murphy and Ted to soothe them. And Asa had stood calm as the eye of a hurricane as destruction swirled around him.

  Two days of filing reports, answering questions by the Internal Investigations Division of the O.T., fielding calls from his mom who wanted to know about the woman who’d nearly killed her nephew and he was almost done for. By rights, he should’ve been put under house arrest until IID finished their shit, but he had to see Gyda and Joe, to his surprise, agreed because they had to find out what had sent her over the edge. Joe hadn’t had much luck pulling it out of Gyda’s mind, which was now lost to the Beast.

  Even Leo, the man who’d put a lock on Gyda’s animalistic side, wasn’t able to break through. Estelle was devastated and blamed Brit. He hadn’t dodged her accusing looks since he was at fault. If he had paid more attention to Gyda’s mental and emotional needs instead of her physical ones, he might have been able to prevent this from happening. But he’d followed his gut and his libido, wanting her more than anything, determined to protect her from the world instead of helping her work through her problems.

  “She’s been on suicide watch since they brought her in,” Joe murmured as she walked next to him. Another howling scream sounded, sending a chill down Brit’s spine. “They wanted to medicate her, but we need to know why she attacked Asa as well as the other information you weren’t able to pry from her.” She paused. “I should’ve realized there was more to it when I touched her that day in the warehouse…but that block she has isn’t one she created. This is my fault,” she whispered.

  Brit knew that wasn’t true. If anyone was to blame it was him. Because he’d been too busy fucking her to do his job. Joe didn’t need to say the words, although he heard them loud and clear. It was no secret around the O.T. that he’d shared a bed with Gyda. The surveillance tapes had been confiscated as part of the internal nvestigation. The only good thing Brit had going for him was that he was Joe’s direct employee, a Siphon she needed to keep from losing control of her powers. Otherwise, he’d most likely be in a cell here as well.

  The guards stopped to open the twelve-inch-thick reinforced steel door leading to the super-max security section of the prison. The howling screams were louder now, scraping over his nerves like nails across a blackboard.

  Joe took the moment to touch Brit’s arm. “I know this is going to be hard for you,” she whispered, her blue eyes swimming with compassion. Throughout it all, the investigation, the interrogation by IID, Joe had been helpful and kind. She knew how deeply he cared for Gyda, how much it cost him to know she’d ended up here despite his love for her. “I’m hoping seeing you again will shake her out of it, but I have to warn you, Brit…” She shook her head and looked away. “It’s bad. This isn’t the woman, or women if you want to get technical, you love. It’s as though she’s sunk so far deep inside that feral mind there’s no talking to her.”

  He didn’t say a word, couldn’t. He only inclined his head and followed the guards as they preceded them through the opening, the massive door clanging shut behind them, sealing them into one of the strongest prisons in the world. Like most super-max security prisons, the walls, floors and ceilings were reinforced steel, thick enough to withstand an atom bomb. The minute he stepped through the door, Brit felt his powers seeping out of him, the powerful Voids who worked this sector draining them.

  It was just a precaution the O.T. took in case supes attempted to break into, or out of, the prison. It wasn’t the best place for someone with Gyda’s problems. Joe didn’t even seem happy with it, but it was the safest place they could find for her without drugging her into a near coma. The facilities were top-notch, the security air-tight and there was no breaking out. Knowing she was probably being treated as a patient instead of a prisoner should have eased his mind, but it didn’t. Nothing would.

  The guards leading them to Gyda’s cell cleared Brit and Joe through security and the familiar buzz of Brit’s powers returned as the Voids withdrew their bubble of power.

  “Healer Quigley is with her now,” one of the guards said without a flicker of emotion coloring his voice. “He’s assessing her for the need to put her on a feeding tube.”

  “Fuck,” Joe whispered and shook her head. “Take us back there.”

  Brit couldn’t have found his voice if someone was holding a gun to his head. A feeding tube. Brit couldn’t have said it any better than Joe. His stomach twisted into a knot and refused to relax as he followed the small retinue through the cold, sterile prison.

  Cold because for the most part, the prisoners here were on ice. Literally. The individual cryogenic chambers, which looked more like capsules, were stacked on top of each other from floor to ceiling. Prison-issued numbers were stamped on the ends of the chambers, letting the guards know which prisoners were where. The ones who made it to those capsules were generally never heard from again. The O.T. made very few mistakes when they put supes through the justice system. There was a whole branch of the organization devoted to uncovering the truth even from those who were known to have strong mental shields. These criminals were the ones who were deemed too dangerous to even attempt to rehabilitate.

  Once they passed those creepy, silent sentinels, the guards led them down another corridor that opened into a round room. The circular desk at the center provided seven alert guards with a perfect view of three corridors where more cells were laid out like spokes in a wheel.

  “We’ve had her in one of the observation cells since she was brought in,” the guard at the front notified Joe and Brit as he led them down the center corridor. “There’s a room with a one-way mirror so we can watch to make sure she’s not harming herself or others. Which one of you is going in?”

  Brit finally found his voice. “I am.”

  The guard nodded. “Director Daly, if you’ll step through here,” he said and opened a door that led into a small dark room with a massive window. “Mr. Harper, please wait while I inform Healer Quigley you’re here. Only one person is allowed with her at a time unless it’s feeding time.”

  He barely heard the guard, his whole attention focused on the big window, or more importantly the woman on the other side who looked as though she was a hair trigger from killing the man standing in front of her. Gyda’s hair was tangled and wild, her face pale with deep, dark shadows beneath her brilliant eyes. They’d removed her earrings and
nose ring, the lack of jewelry bringing attention to the feral snarl on her face.

  She wore a shapeless, paper-thin gown that only emphasized her delicate build. She had claw marks on her arms, as though she’d torn herself open in a fit, and the curl of her lip never let up. Asa spoke to her in a low tone, his voice a mere murmur of sound beneath her constant howling. Joe moved around the room, clicking through something but Brit couldn’t tear his gaze away from the woman he loved. The woman he’d betrayed by not helping her the way she needed.

  Brit’s throat clogged. She looked insane, her eyes gleaming with that unholy light, as though she were possessed by a demon. She bucked against her restraints, her fingers curved claws ready to lash out at someone.

  Joe appeared at his side and gripped his shoulder, offering her silent sympathy as the door to the room opened. Asa looked away from Gyda and shrugged, standing up and leaving the cell. Her wild eyes followed him, hatred bleeding from every pore of her body. Brit’s skin chilled at that sight, trying to understand why she’d formed such an instant, intense hatred of his cousin. Because of the extensive static barrier protecting her deepest memories, the doctors and therapists were working on theories alone. Without breaking into her mind, which would leave her a vegetable, there was no knowing exactly what had caused her to attack unless she told them. The shrinks theorized she feared healers, people who’d let her down when she needed them most, but Brit wasn’t sure he bought it. This hatred felt too personal, too intense, as though she knew him from somewhere.

  He’d thought that as soon as he saw her reaction to Asa, but he had no proof of anything. His cousin was a bit weird, a brilliant eccentric famed for his powers. If there had been any hint of darkness associated with him, it would’ve leaked by now, but there was nothing to suggest Asa was anything more than an ass. Yet watching Gyda now, the way her body almost went limp when the door shut behind the healer, made him wonder if there was something they’d missed.

  “Brit, Joe,” Asa said as he entered the observation room. “I was just assessing her for a feeding tube. She’s completely feral, I’m afraid. I haven’t been able to get any information out of her, or help her more than to heal the wounds she keeps giving to herself.” He shrugged again. “I don’t think we’re going to find out anything about her captivity.”

  “Pardon me if I think different,” Joe said in a cool voice. “You’re a healer, not a mind manipulator. I want Brit to talk to her. He’s the only one who’s had luck with her. If anyone can find out why she attacked you, he can.”

  Asa darted a look from Joe and Brit to the woman trying to scratch her nose. “I don’t know. Her physical state is fragile at best. She screams anytime someone goes in there with her and I’ve had to sedate her from a distance several times just so she’d relax. I believe Brit’s…intimate relationship with her will only cause greater harm than good.”

  But Joe stood her ground. “He’s going in.”

  His cousin’s hands lifted in a gesture of surrender. “Be my guest, but you won’t get anything from her. Her brain patterns are simplistic at best.” His lips lifted in a smile. “Just don’t get close enough for her to bite. I don’t think she’s cognizant enough to know when to let go.” Brit could have sworn satisfaction gleamed in his cousin’s eyes as he said, “I doubt she remembers who she is, where she came from, or anything else we need to know. Like I said, she really is more animal than human right now, a rabid animal at that.”

  * * * * *

  “They’re going to let me have you,” he whispered as he watched her like a hawk eyeing a field mouse. “I can’t wait to get my hands on you again.” He carefully, subtly rubbed the bulge at the front of his pants. “All those lovely scars.” A spot of drool formed at the corner of his mouth as his eyes glazed with lust.

  She snarled in silent fury, not giving voice to the fear raging in her heart. Tora saved it for when he approached again, which he would. He’d promised he’d be back when the guard asked him to step out. She gave her wrists another tug, ignoring the sting of her raw skin wrenching against the restraints again. They kept her restrained whenever someone came to her cell, not wanting to risk her attacking anyone else.

  Tora spared a brief moment to apologize to the young guard whose only mistake had been telling her the healer was coming to see her. She’d lost her shit and hadn’t been able to get it back because every time she quieted down, Asa showed up. Again and again, using his words to evoke memories she wished had remained buried. Then she remembered that she couldn’t trust any of them. The O.T. was harboring at least one monster, there was no telling how many more were out there, waiting to destroy another innocent.

  A growl rumbled in her chest at the thought, but she kept the noise inside. Her throat was on fire from all the screaming she’d done since waking up in this room. So many cells in so little time. This one was the worst of them all because it meant she was one step away from an icy coffin. Her heart threatened to explode from her chest at the thought of those cryogenic cages. Sure, they said the prisoners were unaware of anything once they were injected, that their higher brain functions were brought to a stop, all systems going on standby until the prisoner was brought back later. They—the experts—claimed prisoners were unaware of anything, felt nothing, dreamed nothing, but neither Tora nor Sixteen trusted that. Gyda had been strangely quiet since they saw him on the porch, locked away like a child fearing the monsters were real.

  Well, she wasn’t exactly wrong there, was she? Sixteen’s dry quip fell flat because this wasn’t funny.

  If they were locked in one of those frozen cells, Gyda would relive her torment over and over until she went stark raving mad. As opposed to only slightly mad, like she was now.

  The thought was enough to make her lips quirk as she kept her eyes on the door and worked her wrists some more. He was coming back and she needed to be able to kill him before he laid a hand on her.

  But when the door to her cell opened, it wasn’t the healer who entered, but Brit. She froze, shocked to see him. The air in her cage crackled with his power, that heady scent of ozone accompanying him into the room. For a split second, pure, unadulterated joy shot through her as Gyda woke from her self-imposed exile. Her hungry gaze devoured him, taking in the tousled dark hair, tight black t-shirt, black cargos, everything fitting him like a glove. His eyes were dark with some strong emotion, his jaw thick with what appeared to be several days of beard and he’d never looked more beautiful to her.

  Then he looked her in the eye and her memories roared back to the surface. Brit asking her to let the healer touch her, begging her to allow the other man to put his hands on her. Brit knocking her out when she went to exact revenge on one of the most key players in her torture. The memory that he was of the same blood as the healer rocking her to the core, shaking up the girl who wanted to believe in happy endings. There could be none for them. Not with his blatant betrayal.

  Her lip curled back into a snarl, a silent warning for him to keep his distance. He shuddered slightly, closing his eyes. Yeah, he wasn’t exactly rushing to kiss her now, was he? It only proved Sixteen’s insistence that he’d drop them as soon as he could. Let a girl lose her mind a little, throw her in a padded cell and suddenly he wasn’t so happy to see her.

  Fucking bastard. The snarl was pure Gyda, a surge of anger dragging her from the recesses of her mind to the forefront, pushing Tora and Sixteen to the side.

  She wouldn’t let him touch her now anyway. No, she was no longer dick blind as Sixteen claimed she’d been. She was thinking more clearly now than she ever had and could see the tension in his body. Why was he here? Did he want to see the result of his hard work? He’d pried open the door to her soul and let the bad man in. He had to be proud of himself.

  Except when his gaze dropped from hers, it wasn’t satisfaction she felt battering at her mental shields. It was shame and guilt and sadness and that warmth that called to her, tempted her to huddle close to it and wrap it around her. It was the sam
e heated emotion she felt when Leo mentioned Estelle, the glow of love, but Brit had to be one of those rare people who could trick empaths with his emotions, because if he loved her, he wouldn’t have put her here. Wouldn’t be here to try to convince her to let the healer touch her. If he loved her, he would’ve let her die or get away to keep her from being the victim again.

  “Gyda,” he rasped as he took a step closer. She snapped at him, twisting her wrists harder, desperately. He stopped and sucked in a deep breath, eyes closed. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Gyda.”

  She’d vowed never to speak to him again, but his words prompted a response that came out as an angry hiss. “You’re sorry?” Her entire body strained against the cuffs and shackles holding her to the chair, her muscles burning at the stretch, her skin screaming in protest. “Yeah, you’re sorry, you son of a bitch. You gave me to him. Gave me to him!” she finished in a shriek.

  He flinched, but stepped forward. “Don’t.” He didn’t touch her, his hands hovering over her body and she used the whole chair to leap at him, forcing him to step back again. “Don’t hurt yourself, please.”

  “You locked me up,” she accused, enjoying the way he jolted as though stabbed. It was better than basking in the power that surrounded her like a warm blanket. “You left me vulnerable to that fucker! Don’t you understand? You’ve given me to my rapist!” The words left her in a full scream, all of her pain, fear and anger at him, at the healer, at the hand life had dealt her poured into her shredded voice. She felt as though she were bleeding inside and wanted him to hurt as well.

  He paled, all the color leaching from his face as shock overwhelmed him. She could feel his horror beating at her mental shields, but it was the incredulity that caused her to continue to lash out at him, to make sure he understood how deeply he’d betrayed her.

  “You all want to know what happened? You all want so badly to understand?” she taunted at the man she’d thought cared for her. “The healer you call cousin was one of the men I was forced to submit to. He raped me over and over and healed me each time. He liked hearing me scream.” The memories threatened to wash away what remained of her sanity, her tears finally spilling down her cheeks. “They took turns, laughing at me, hurting me, healing me. I don’t even know how long it was that time. Hours? Days?” She closed her eyes. “Then— Then he sterilized me,” she finished in a harsh whisper. “He called it forced hormonal sterilization.”