On the chest of drawers beside her bed, she found a book about birds. Even with one hand above her head, she could turn the pages and read. Books were one of those rare pleasures she never got enough of, a way to withdraw from the world and simply enjoy the images that played out in her head. She read it from cover to cover and then began it again.
In the loneliest hours of the night, she woke to find her breaths chugging out of her like steam from an engine. Visions of paper flipping through the darkness dominated her thoughts—of someone burying a folder deep underground, in a cave where tree roots slithered like snakes. Feet scuffled at the periphery of her vision. It took hours, or seemed to, before she succumbed again to sleep.
The nightmare stirred up the darker places in her soul. What had happened yesterday was an aberration. She’d never received anything greater than a grudging respect for her usefulness from a human. The way Lord Kevonis treated her unbalanced her. And the way she’d reacted to him was unfathomable, even ridiculous. She squeezed her thighs together, shivered. Though even now, when she recalled the weight of his hand on her back, she yearned to feel that way again. Yet was it all just to get her into his bed? Or was it something more cunning? Perhaps he knew what she was, and was playing with her, to see what secrets she might reveal?
That morning, while in the bathroom, she tried the lock on her cuffs anyway. It would be handy to know she could free herself as needed. Another couple of days and she’d be fit enough to run. The Brito-Gallic League—just the thought of being free for the first time in her life, even if she had to disguise her marks, was enough to make her hand shake.
The hairpin snapped in the lock. She cursed softly, then attempted to get her fingernails around the prong of broken metal. It slipped and rotated and refused to come out.
She slumped against the wall, held the heels of her hands against her eyes. Not good. June would see she’d been tampering as soon as she tried to relock the cuffs. She’d call in the guards from the hallway. What if trying to escape meant he sent her off for euthanasia? Sure, Lord Kevonis had designs on her and wanted her in his bed, but he wasn’t stupid. If she seemed a threat, she’d be eliminated.
She didn’t want to die.
Someone knocked at the main bedroom door, and muffled words were exchanged. Footsteps approached.
“Girl!” June sang out. “Whatcha doing in there? The colonel wants to see you!”
Pressure built behind her eyes. A colonel? Well now, wasn’t she lucky? Another hell-blasted military man, and what great timing. Theo had brought in someone to interrogate her after all. Let me into your world so I can decide what to do with you. She felt like blowing a raspberry. He was like all the other humans, willing to lie through his teeth.
She slid down the wall, bowed her head, and drew up her knees despite the fresh agony invoked in her thigh muscles. The tag ends of the stitches pricked the undersides of her arms. Damn them. She watched sourly as a thin line of blood trickled down the side of her thigh. Deep muscle aches she’d forgotten returned. The outer bedroom door banged open, and what sounded like a herd of guards tromped in.
“Where is she?” Dankyo. He was back.
“She’s locked in the bathroom, sir, and doesn’t seem to want to come out,” June grumbled.
“There’s no time for this. Get her out. Now. Take off the hinges if you must. Make sure she’s cuffed, and bring her downstairs.”
A few minutes later, the bathroom lock had been knocked loose, and two of Dankyo’s gray-uniformed cohorts dragged her out into the bedroom. She didn’t resist, much—just a few kicks to their shins for the satisfaction of hearing them yelp.
June stood to one side wringing her hands and making odd noises as if she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if it was her place.
“No more of that, girl, woman—whatever you are!” The taller guard kept a tight hold on Claire’s upper arm. She kept her face rigid. “June, there’s no time for whatever you were supposed to get her dressed in, but can you clean up the blood?”
June wrinkled her mouth. “Sure, I don’t know what Mister Dankyo thinks he’s doing. I can tell you now that Lord Kevonis won’t be happy. Here, let me brush her hair as well.”
“Just the leg, June. Been told to bring her straightaway.”
June grunted, and something shifted in her face, relaxing so the creases became less deep. “Let her go a bit, Harry. Can’t you see she’s scared?”
Scared? She wasn’t scared…much. Claire made sure nothing showed. Made herself hard as steel. Be nothing. Say nothing. These people were no better than any others.
Nevertheless, Harry’s grip loosened. “Here, let June clean that.”