Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)

When Rachel tried to remove my jeans again, I let her. Angry or not, I wasn’t going to be responsible for what Fletcher would do to her if she didn’t complete her assigned task.

She actually blushed when she took off my panties, but the color didn’t last long before she stood up, scissors in hand.

“Go on,” I said. “I’ve been through this song and dance before.”

Because my arms were bound, she had to cut away my T-shirt and bra. I trained my gaze on the door, expecting Fletcher to peer in at any moment with his beady little eyes. To my relief, I didn’t sense his energy close by.

“You’re a Mage,” I said to Rachel. “Are you really his, or did he just take you?”

She briefly looked at me, the answer in her eyes.

“I should have known he’d find a replacement. I bet you want to stab me with those scissors.”

She held up the handmade dress and put my head through the hole. There were no sleeves, just laces on the side that held it together. It was similar to the one he made me wear in the early days, before he trusted me enough to lengthen the chain. He eventually got sick of cleaning up my mess and gave me a bucket, but half the fun was not using it. I found pleasure rebelling in the most creative ways, always searching for buttons to push. Eventually he stopped giving me food and water, and that was when I learned how long I could survive without sustenance. Unfortunately, with Rachel around to do all the cleaning, I’d have to come up with new ideas.

While she tied the laces, I slammed my eyes shut.

This can’t be real, I thought, tears brimming near my lashes.

“You should just do whatever he wants,” Rachel whispered. “He told me about you—about how you fought your own Creator. You’re not supposed to do that. The Mageri executes anyone who kills their Creator. And a Learner has no rights.”

I tilted my head to the side, wondering if she was really that na?ve. “The Mageri is the least of your concerns. Creators aren’t supposed to take you right off the street. Did you know that? Creators are supposed to go to the Mageri for approval when they make a Learner. At the very least, they have to present you to the local Council and have them measure your gifts.”

She began lacing up the other side. “They’re supposed to, but Creators aren’t punished if they don’t. They’re the only ones who can make another Mage, so the Mageri turns a blind eye whenever it suits them. Fletcher says they’re corrupt.”

Creating fear and distrust of the Mageri was one of Fletcher’s control tactics. I smiled mirthlessly. “Of course he did. I bet you’re convinced that he’s the only one who can protect you. I’ve been in your shoes, Rachel.”

She backed away, her lips set in a mulish line. “He said you’d try to sway me, but you’re only going to make it harder on yourself. Fletcher’s immortal, and you’re chained to a wall. He can do whatever he wants to you for all eternity. Have you thought about that?”

I shifted my stance and looked up at where the chain connected to the wall. Forever was a long time. Now that I’d seen the big bad world, I had a feeling Fletcher wasn’t going to be granting me privileges at the normal pace. A woman like Rachel wasn’t hard to break, and she’d probably never held a weapon in her life. Maybe he’d picked a girl from the suburbs whose only real excitement was going to yoga class three times a week. One thing was for sure—Fletcher would never trust me enough to unlock these chains. Not for years. If I yielded to him, I could retain my strength and come up with an escape plan. But I knew Fletcher better than that. He wanted to see me break, and he’d never accept anything less.

I yanked on the chain and studied the manacles for a weakness. Meanwhile, the door opened and Fletcher strode in, just as happy as a lark.

“Rachel’s a bit feebleminded, but I trust her.” He swaggered forward, hands in his pockets, but stopped out of reach. “Where, oh where, has my little Learner been?”

“I’m not your Learner.”

“Is that so? My light’s in your body; I beg to differ.” He sneered as he closed the distance between us.

Fletcher’s intense eyes made my hair stand on end. It was as if he could see all my secrets—all my weaknesses. It was easy to lose sense of time and slip back into the past, but that wasn’t me anymore, so I held his cruel gaze.

“I bet you’d like to have a go at me,” he said, stroking his beard.

“Unlock the chains, and let’s see what you’ve got. I used to think you were a scary guy, but now I see the truth. You’re weak. I’ve killed men twice your size. Now I know why the Mageri won’t give you permission to make one of us legally.”

He gripped my face with one hand and squeezed my cheeks hard. “A lot you know. Who do you think hired me to make sure Breed bodies never make it past the morgue? You’d be surprised how many Vamps are staked and left for dead.” He let go of my jaw and gave me a scathing glance. “Had I not brought you home with me, you’d be in a coffin right now. Or worse—cremated. Not uncommon when it comes to a Jane Doe.”

“Why didn’t you turn me in?”

He waggled his brows. “You had all the telltale signs of a newly made Vamp. It takes a while for the blood to take hold and turn you completely. I was curious if I could still make you a Mage, my little Frankenstein.”

“Frankenstein was the doctor, you idiot.”

Fletcher backhanded me so fast that I barely had time to process it. I spat blood in his face and grinned. I’d finally found a button to push.

He scowled, not bothering to wipe it off. “Never actually thought it would work. Tried it once before. It’s a shame to see it wasted on an ungrateful bitch. I was going to lengthen the chain so you could reach the toilet, but it looks like it’s the bucket for you.”

“How about neither? Just like old times.”

He quirked a smile. “If you’d like Rachel to clean it up, then by all means, throw your feces around like an ape.” Fletcher smoothed his hand over my head and gave me an appraising look. The kind of look a man gives a prized steer he just purchased in an auction. “After all these years. I knew you’d never leave the city. When I saw the ad on the black market, I knew it was you.” He leaned in and smelled me. “I’ve learned a thing or two, and we won’t be making the same mistakes again. You’ll stay in chains for at least a year. I trusted you too soon, and I definitely don’t trust you now. Your words mean nothing to me.” His fingers fidgeted with one of the ties on my dress. “Made up your mind?”

That was when I broke eye contact and stared at the wall to the left.

He pulled the tie, touching me with his dirty finger before he pinched my side and twisted. “Give daddy a drink.”