Touched by Lightning Page 7

  There were definitely three personalities in there, all fighting for dominance and all distinctly different in powers. There was the shy, feral girl with empathic abilities, the one they’d managed to capture who had weak mental shields. Then there was the coolly dangerous woman who had shields so strong they’d nearly knocked Joe into next week when she tried to break through them. And finally there was that bestial personality that was all raw strength and animal instincts. But covering all of them was some sort of barrier, like a static boundary keeping them from being fully read. It was the weirdest shit she’d ever seen.

  Brit said nothing, although his jaw bunched as he swept past her with the woman in his arms. In doing so, the top of the woman’s head touched Joe’s arm, connecting them for one split second. But it was a second that seemed to last a lifetime because unable to help herself, Joe reached out to the woman’s unguarded mind. There was still a high wall of security around her, the mental shield weaker now and easily overcome. At first all she saw was the more recent thoughts the woman had of Joe, Brit, the Order of Themis. Then she slipped deeper and found herself in hell.

  Chapter Five

  Sixteen’s stomach growled and the Beast wanted to rattle the bars of the cage, but she knew better than to let it out. The last time she’d tried to call attention to herself in the big house she was kept in, the master had beaten her within an inch of her life. Then he’d brought in one of his friends, a friend he’d allowed to use her even as he healed her body, only to have herself beaten again and healed and used again. She didn’t remember how long that time had lasted, only that she knew better than to try to get the other people in the house to help her.

  Her keen ears picked up the familiar sound of Master’s firm tread on the hallway and she waited with a combination of fear, dread and anticipation. Her stomach growled again as though to comfort her for wanting to see him again. As much as she hated him, wished he would just die and leave her in peace, he was her only means of survival at the moment. Every muscle in her body seemed to tense the closer Master’s footsteps sounded. Her gaze was riveted on the fancy door handle. Her lungs seized when it turned and then he was in the room with her again as though he’d never left.

  Except she couldn’t see the master’s face.

  Sixteen blinked and frowned, concentrating harder on that strange blur of skin and pale hair, but couldn’t make his features form into the face she’d come to hate. It was as though something blocked her from identifying him. All she could see was the fine clothing, the big belt buckle emblazoned with a stylized W. And even as she stared at that piece of brass it came closer and closer until it was all she could see before her face.

  “You look hungry, Sixteen,” Master said in a voice that came out distorted and warped. It wasn’t the way he usually sounded, almost as though he were disguising his voice or something. But then she quickly forgot about his voice, his face and everything else as his hands began to work at his belt buckle and then the fly of his pants. “Let’s see if I can find something to appease your appetite.”

  Gyda sat up with a gasp, her mind scrambling for reality, for the here and now, not the past. She reached out for her box and promptly rapped her knuckles into a solid concrete wall. Puzzled, she rubbed her eyes to clear them. She couldn’t believe she’d slept so hard. Normally when she was in a hotel room, she woke up periodically because of the sounds in the rooms next to hers or just a bone-deep fear that she’d wake up back in that cage.

  But this time when she pulled away her hands, she still couldn’t believe her eyes. She wasn’t in her hotel room. The small, concrete chamber wasn’t any better than the shithole room she’d taken during her stay in Kansas City, but she knew exactly what it was. A cell. A cage. Gyda sprang off the cot she’d been lying on and flew to the door with the small rectangle cut at eye-level. Peering out, she couldn’t tell a goddamn thing about where she was.

  The walls started to close in on her, panic igniting like a nuclear bomb. She clutched the bars on the window of the solid door, pressing her face to them in a bid to get air in her lungs. Fresh air, not the air of the cell she was in. It didn’t taste any better than the oxygen in her cage, so she let go and plastered herself to the door, her frantic gaze skipping over everything in the room. Which wasn’t much at all. Bed. Toilet. Sink. That was it. But it was better than what she’d had when she was with the master. Still, civilized amenities or not, she had to get the fuck out of here.

  Tora pulled and tugged at her consciousness, determined to take over and claw their way out of the cage. Gyda almost allowed her at it, but even as she thought it, her ears picked up the sound of footsteps headed her way over the frantic pounding of her heart. For a moment, she flashed back to one of the many nights of her captivity. Was it Master? Had he found her again and locked her in this cell until he could relocate a cage for her? Her palms grew damp and she scrambled for something, anything to calm the rising tide of terror.

  No, it wasn’t possible. The last faces she remembered seeing were Britton and the Director of the O.T., Josephina. They were the Order of Themis. They couldn’t go around handing girls over to sick bastards for shits and giggles. Someone would’ve stopped them before now. Right? She’d always been in awe of the O.T., always looked to them as heroes for weak supes like herself. Until the day she ended up with Master and stayed with him for so long.

  They don’t take girls no one wants, remember? You were expendable, an orphan your own fucking mom didn’t want. Why should anyone care about you and what happens to you? If they had, they would’ve found you earlier.

  The voice held the faint hopelessness of Sixteen. Holy shit, I’m freaking out. Gyda wrapped her arms around herself, her heart threatening to jump right out of her chest and her skin crawling with memories of how easily the master had broken her down, how easily she’d fallen prey to him and the stupid, blind hope she’d clung to that someone, anyone, would save her.

  Glancing around the cell, she could tell there was nothing for her to use to calm her shit. A quick pat at her body told her they’d taken all her blades. Then she glanced at the cot. It’d squeaked when she climbed out of it. She ran to the piece-of-shit bed and fell to her knees next to it, yanking away the mattress with a desperation born of a major panic attack. As she’d suspected, metal wire made up the supports of the cot. She almost wept when she saw the sharp barbs on the ends, but the ever-encroaching footsteps wouldn’t let her break down now. She had to be level when they got here. When the master got here and started his sick games again. She had to be able to deal with it and kill the fucker. There was no way in hell she’d ever let him take her back to that place again.

  Without giving it further thought, she aimed her forearm at the sharp barbs of wire holding the springs in place. Pain blossomed and blood flowed, releasing some of the panic threatening to tear her apart. Another slash and she could think a little better, although the pleasure of the pain called out to her to do it again and again and again until she was lost to it. Only knowing the master would like nothing better than to see her as a bloodied, pathetic mess kept her from giving in.

  Well, that and the zap of electricity that made the room glow blue seconds before she was blown away from the cot’s frame. Everything seemed to slow down as she went airborne. Gyda swore she could see every porous inch of the concrete walls, the slight cracks in the ceiling and the faces of the people crowding the doorway. She didn’t recognize any of them, hadn’t even felt them approach. If she would’ve had time to feel disappointed, she would have, which made no sense. She didn’t want that liar Britton to come anywhere near her. Not after he betrayed her. But what had she expected? And now as a result of his lying, she was going to go through a lot of pain. It was there in the grim countenances of the people staring at her. They weren’t going to be gentle with her, not that anyone ever had been.

  Time seemed to speed up as Gyda became resigned to her fate. Tora wanted to break free of the chains that held her down, but her Beast
was strangely sluggish. Probably from the attack of the night before. Whatever the reason, her feral personality was of no help now. And neither was the smart-ass Sixteen. Her other selves were strangely silent, leaving her to fight on her own. Again.

  She braced herself to hit the concrete wall opposite of the cot, but made contact with something hard, yet not nearly as unforgiving. Heat and electricity branded her back, clearing her mind quicker than the sharp wire had, but bringing with it a different kind of sweet pain. Ozone and musk filled her nose, a masculine scent that caused butterflies to flutter in her stomach. It also brought that unwelcome warmth between her legs. Without turning her head, Gyda knew she was held by Britton, the man who’d promised he wouldn’t hurt her and then let her be taken unawares.

  Fury exploded in a way she’d never experienced for herself. Tora was the angry one, the part of her personality that gave in to her instincts and wants regardless of the repercussions. But Tora wasn’t the one Britton had kissed. And Sixteen wasn’t the one who’d stupidly let her guard down because a man talked to her with a soft voice and melting eyes. That had been Gyda and the result had been pain, waking up in another cage and a return of memories she’d long thought buried. So similar to what had happened to her all those years ago. But this time she wasn’t some kid who’d make it easy for someone to turn her into a victim. This time she was a full-grown woman who had the blood of her tormenters on her hands.

  Britton would learn not to promise things he couldn’t deliver on.

  Back away from her.

  Brit wasn’t sure if the words were spoken out loud or in his mind, but he recognized the voice as belonging to the big empath who’d joined them for this trip to the cells beneath The Office. He’d met Leo several times over the years he’d served as Joe’s Siphon. The empath was part of the Second Sector Alpha Tactical Unit along with his Void wife, but in all the time they’d worked together, Brit had never heard the same level of warning in the man’s voice as he heard now. It was a direct order to retreat.

  Unfortunately he couldn’t follow it. Not with Gyda cushioned against him. Seeing her sawing at her arms with the sharp spokes of the cot’s wire springs left him with the urge to protect, to battle the demons riding her shoulder even as his own reared their heads.

  His mind flashed to a long-ago afternoon. Bloodied floors and sheets, pale body with great gaping slashes on the wrists. Dwayne barely conscious when Brit got there, the knowledge that he couldn’t save his friend eating at him, and watching his friend take his last breath even as the sirens wailed in the distance. Too late. He’d been too late to save the man who’d been like a brother to him, his O.T. signup buddy. They’d roomed together, went through training together and Brit had failed him, failed to see the demons tormenting Dwayne.

  To see this woman dealing with the same monsters roused his protective instincts to an all-time high. The fury with which she’d sawed at her skin with that dull spring made his heart tighten as though a fist was clenched around it. Especially since he knew she had every right to her anger. The information he and Joe had uncovered about her after getting her prints had led them down a very rocky road of pain and suffering and hopelessness. Joe had picked up something from Gyda, something that had caused his boss’ skin to blanch and her eyes to dilate with horror. Seeing that only made the urge to hold Gyda close and provide a buffer between her and the rest of the world stronger than ever.

  But Leo seemed to think differently, because the empath moved up and touched his shoulder. “You need to let her go before she hurts—”

  Gyda suddenly exploded in a fury of moves that showed she’d learned how to fight dirty. Unfortunately for Brit, he was the recipient of her skill and it hurt like a motherfucker. In very short order, she set about attacking his solar plexus, instep, nose and groin like a pro, leaving him hunched over, hoping he’d be able to have children one day. But damn, even thinking about making kids left him gagging. He didn’t know where Gyda went or what she did after she laid into him and at this moment, he didn’t give a shit.

  Slowly though, the sick pain in his balls eased and he was able to lift his head to survey the damage. Leo had Gyda held tight in his arms, his sharp gaze drilling holes into hers. They seemed frozen together while everyone around them groaned and tried to get to their feet again. It mollified Brit only a little to see three of the other trainers in pain after wrangling with her, but any satisfaction fell by the wayside when he saw the way Leo and Gyda stood, oblivious to the rest of the world.

  He straightened, ignoring the lingering pain in his groin and took a step forward to separate them. It didn’t do him any good to see them so engrossed with each other. Logically he knew Leo would never step out on his wife, especially not in front of a room of witnesses he worked with, but logic had nothing to do with the primal surge rushing through Brit’s veins. His power recharged, coming back stronger than ever and he put his hands out with the intention of tearing them apart while leaving Leo with some nasty burns.

  Except something happened between them, something that had Gyda’s eyes closing and her body going limp as the fight went out of her. Startled and a little scared at her sudden collapse, Brit jumped forward to catch her, but Leo already had his girl in his arms and was carrying her out of the room.

  “I’m bringing her to Estelle and Joe,” Leo said as he stalked down the hall with ease as though he weren’t carrying another person. “She’s going to need them to get through the questioning.”

  Brit’s hands curled into fists, but he didn’t say a word, all his focus on the fragile features of the woman curled in Leo’s arms. The shit he’d read, the reports Leo and Estelle had written about the fateful night they rescued her, the psychiatrist’s reports, the doctors’ reports, all of it pointed to a woman who’d walked through the fires of hell. While he would’ve been pissed at any other woman for going for his family jewels, with Gyda, there was no anger. Only sorrow that she’d had to live through that. And they didn’t even know all of what happened. As much as the empaths and healers and doctors had worked to get Gyda to open up to them, she’d refused.

  “What just happened?” Murphy asked from beside Brit, throwing a squinty-eyed glance at Leo’s back. “Much as the girl freaks me out with that whole silence shit, she’s just scared. Did he fuck with her mind? Cause I ain’t gonna lie; I don’t like all that woo-woo shit those empaths do.”

  “Woo-woo shit?” Troy came back with a slap to the bigger man’s shoulder. “I see those sensitivity classes Joe makes you go to have really paid off.” He jostled his way so the three men strode abreast of each other, trailing behind Leo like schoolboys following the headmaster. “I don’t know what he did to her,” he finally admitted. “I’m just a Reaper who was brought in just in case she went ape shit worse than she did. And did anyone else notice how quick she got her powers back? Clay’s still out like a light after reaping from her last time.”

  “She’s tough as nails,” Murphy muttered with approval. “Got me before I could pull up my armor.”

  Troy nodded with an impressed grin. “She nailed Brit so hard I’m positive she kicked his balls into last week. How’re the boys, Brit?”

  He didn’t answer, although he liked knowing his girl could take care of herself. She just didn’t have to take care of herself anymore. Not with him around. And yeah, he was totally aware he was calling her his girl in his mind. So the fuck what? He’d known from the minute he saw her at Mendoza’s that she was his. She just didn’t know that yet, but as soon as things calmed down, as soon as Joe was sure they could erase some of the bad things Gyda had done over the years and brought her into the O.T. fold, he’d make sure she knew. She’d probably kick his ass for it, or try, but it would be worth it.

  A mid-level medic met them before they got on the elevators, pressing one hand to Gyda’s shoulder and closing the slow seeping wounds on her arms. Brit frowned at the man, not liking all these guys touching her in front of him, but he said nothing. He didn’t
want her in pain, didn’t want her to suffer any longer.

  His resolve lasted through the long walk from the basement of The Office to Joe’s private suite elevator, through the mini rendition of I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That) to Joe’s suite of offices. It almost faltered when the doors opened to reveal the stunning brunette he knew to be Estelle Jendrix, Leo’s wife, and the tears dripping down her face as she looked at Gyda as though she’d set her eyes on a long-lost sister. The care and compassion the Void showed his girl as she smoothed her hand over Gyda’s forehead eased the tightness in his chest a little. Others cared for her, which would help her transition to the light side.

  The light side, really? Are we in Star Wars and no one told me? Does this mean I need to get a gold-lame bikini? ’Cause I could rock that.

  Brit’s gaze slid to Joe, who smiled at him as though she hadn’t betrayed both him and Gyda. He was still pissed at her for bringing Murphy and Clay into the equation. She’d made him look as though he didn’t keep his promises. That hurt, betrayed look in Gyda’s eyes seconds before she collapsed told him everything he needed to know about her reaction when she saw him again. And she hadn’t disappointed. Too bad Joe hadn’t been there to get her metaphorical kick in the balls.

  Now that’s just not nice, Brit. I did what I had to for the Order of Themis. She kept her voice light but there was no mistaking the steel beneath the velvet. I have a duty to protect the entire Order of Themis and the norms that live within its boundaries. That means no goddamn vigilante bullshit.