“Where am I?”
“You are at my home. It used to be an insane asylum, but I find that it has all the creature comforts I need, including plenty of space for guests.” He waved a perfectly manicured hand at her.
“How did I get here?”
“I brought you, of course.”
“Where is my family?”
“Oh, isn’t that an excellent question?”
“Where are they?” Meg demanded, starting to shake the fogginess she felt moments before.
“Some of them are here in my home. The rest, I would only be venturing a guess. Allow me to introduce myself before we begin.”
“Begin what?” Meg took a moment to glance down at what she was wearing and if she had anything that could be used as a weapon.
“The games, of course.”
“Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want, but I demand you let me and my family go.”
Donovan Arkdone grinned.
Then he chuckled.
Then he tossed his head back and let out a full-on, bellowing laugh.
“My dear girl, you are fun, aren’t you? No wonder my colleague carried such a torch for you!”
Meg was tired of this loon’s ranting. Now that she was coming out of the fuzziness of whatever it was he used to drug her, she was getting sick of his Mad-Hatter speak. She ran up to him and spun ready to plant a hard kick at his laughing throat.
His laughter stopped as he grabbed Meg’s ankle and held it before pulling it high above his head, holding Meg upside down with one scalding hand. Meg could feel the searing pain on the skin where he touched her.
“I’ll have none of that, metahuman.” Arkdone snarled and tossed her aside like a rancid rag doll. Her body hit the brick wall at least five feet above the ground and landed with a sickening smack onto the concrete floor.
Meg gasped trying to take a breath after having had the wind knocked out of her.
“What are you?”
“What do you think I am?” The lips on Donovan Arkdone face pulled back into a cruel grin, paused, then continued to pull further back until his face was disproportionately wide.
“I think you’re a nightmare,” Meg breathed feeling the room tilt beneath her battered body.
“You have no idea how accurate you are,” the face taunted.
Meg’s world teetered but she wasn’t done fighting. She took a slow, calming breath in and fixed herself until she was sitting upright, back against the same wall that probably sported her blood as her arms and legs were bruised and scratched up. Tentatively, she reached up to feel her back, searching for the wings she felt there moments ago.
There was nothing.
Oh shit.
“The wings you’re searching for can be yours again, and forever. All you have to do is give yourself to me.”
“What?”
“I can heal your wounds and give you wings with the wave of my hand, but you have to give something to me in return,” Arkdone asserted, his face shifting back into its previous, normal size.
Meg knew she needed to stall to give herself a moment to catch her breath because she was about to try something that would take a lot of energy.
“What do you want in return?”
“You…I want you to willingly follow me. If you do, you’ll live in luxury, have slaves to do your bidding, wear the finest clothing and visit the spa as often as you’d like. All you have to do is say, ‘I chose to give myself to Arkdone.’ Simple enough?”
“You don’t want my company,” Meg pushed her influence as hard as she could. “You find me boring and undeserving of your attention. You have decided you may as well release me and my family.”
With the last sentence, Meg pushed her level of concentration to the most intense point she’d ever felt channeled by abject fear at the illogically strong creature that had her trapped.
Meg felt his vile sulfuric stench trying to dive into her mind. Instantly, her head burst into pain and her nose gushed blood.
“Well, now isn’t that a neat little parlor trick you’ve learned, metahuman?” the monster called Arkdone cooed. “I knew you were an empath, but Kenneth had kept this aspect of your gift a secret from me. His obsession with you is truly understandable…I’m starting to develop a tongue sore for you myself.”
Meg was holding her head with one hand and pinching the bridge of her nose with the other. She was in so much physical pain the echoing vibrations of the monster’s voice rubbed like sandpaper against her throbbing, raw brain.
All she wanted was to reach out to Creed for his strength, but she was in so much pain, she was completely debilitated. She had to focus on her next breath and count the metronome thrum in her head.