Emmitt had definitely made her watch the video. Vyr didn’t even try to swallow down the deep rumble of his dragon as Emmitt led the woman through the door.
Emmitt lifted the rifle and pulled the trigger. On reflex, Vyr caught the dart right before it slammed into his face. This was the part he hated with the burning passion of a thousand suns. This was the part where he tortured the best part of himself—the dragon. Keeping his face blank, he jammed the dart into his shoulder and emptied the contents. The pain was instant, the burn rocketing through every nerve ending in his body from the needle outward. Still, he sat there, staring at Emmitt like his body wasn’t ripping apart.
This was the game. They could hurt him all they wanted, but he would never fuckin’ show them a single grimace. He was dying, but he was doing it on his terms.
Fuck, he missed Torren. He’d never thought he would do this on his own. Never thought he would die in a cold room with strangers watching his every move. Never thought he would die in the dark without his best friend by his side. He even missed Nox, Nevada, and Candace. His dragon was inside of him, spewing blood, spewing fire, spewing pain and begging for one goddamn touch from any one of his crew, just to ease the hurt.
The bitter stench of the woman’s fear filled his senses and made it even harder to control the Change. Fear made him want to kill things. It made him want to burn the world and be done with everything that was bad, and painful. It made him want to give into the growing darkness inside of him.
Emmitt left the woman alone and disappeared out the door. Just for a distraction from the pain, Vyr reached with his mind for her. Soft purple aura, and in her head was something beautiful. It was a memory. It was a small child’s hand holding a bouquet of peonies. It swung back and forth. White dress. Field of dandelion flowers. Trailer park. Trailer. Stairs. Opening door. Old trailer with green carpet and holes in the walls, but he didn’t get a feeling of hurt. She was happy, this girl child. She handed the flowers to a woman, and the smile on the woman’s face lit up the room. And then Vyr was blasted backward out of the memory, out of the trailer, the door slamming shut as he hit the yard of dandelions. And then he was ripped from the woman’s mind, and here he was again, in hell, burning from the inside out, looking at the pissed-off eyes of someone who truly confused him now.
“No,” she said in a firm voice as if he was a puppy who had just pissed on the carpet.
What the fuck?
He saw her then…really studied her.
She looked different from any woman he’d ever seen. He had a light smattering of freckles on his face, a gift from his mother, but this woman had dark freckles that she hadn’t covered with make-up. She displayed them proudly. She had dark, delicately arched eyebrows, a small elf nose, and eyes as black as midnight. Her lips were full, and her straight, brunette hair had been dyed blond at the ends. She was statuesque and curvy. She had that perfect hourglass figure that had the pain in his middle easing by a fraction as he dragged his attention down her body. There was something more about her. Something more than her being a rare beauty. Something he could sense, but couldn’t put a finger on. Mysterious woman.
“What are you?” Vyr asked.
“Human,” she answered easily.
Huh.
“Can I ask a favor?” she asked.
“I don’t do interviews.”
“That’s not what I was going to ask.”
A low rumble rattled through his body. “I have nothing to offer. Look around, human. I’ve been buried alive. Can’t you see? You’re asking favors of a dead man.”
“Not a dead man. A half-dead dragon.”
Vyr clenched his fists and barely resisted the urge to throw his bed against the wall just to quell the rage inside of him. Eyes closed, he counted to three and then locked his gaze on the woman. “What?” he snarled. “What could you possibly want from me?”
“I ask that you don’t hurt me.” Her eyes grew wider and her mouth set in a grim line. I’m here to help you.
The last part was a dream, right? Her lips hadn’t moved, but the words were clear in his head. Vyr shook his head hard. He was at the beginning of The Sickening, and he’d been hearing and seeing things lately that weren’t there. Too much time under the earth. Too long away from the sky. Too long in the dark. Too long away from his mountains.
Too long from his crew.
Emmitt had definitely shown her the video of him eating that prick guard, of him devouring a monster. Good for Emmitt. She should be wary of Vyr.
“I don’t make promises I don’t know I can keep. Sorry lady.” He offered her an empty smile and tried to ignore the wave of nausea that wracked his body. Fuckin’ meds were destroying him from the dragon out.
“Riyah.”
“What?” Vyr asked.
“My name is Riyah Mercer. I’m going to be your counselor. I’m going to help you transition during this difficult time.” She’d taken on a professional business voice, but her eyes flickered to the two-way glass of one of the observation rooms behind him.
Help. Help… I’m here to help.
Chills rippled up Vyr’s arms, and he shook his head again hard. How many times had he sat here alone in the dark and fantasized about his crew coming through that wall and pulling him from this place? How many times had he wished for help? This woman, Riyah…she wasn’t his crew. She wasn’t going to save him. He was just going crazy with wanting.
Emmitt dragged in some video equipment.
“Fuck this,” Vyr snarled, tensing up. “I’ll take your goddamn meds, but I’m not letting you document the transition. Kill my dragon. That’s the goal, right? But I’m not dying on camera.”
“Settle,” Riyah murmured so low, Emmitt didn’t even react.
They both went to work, setting up a camera on a tripod. Vyr was gonna love the look on their faces when he crushed that fuckin’ camera without even touching it. Anticipation grew in his middle, and he bit back a devilish smile. He rarely used his powers in front of other people, but fuck it all now, right? He was already dead. Vyr hoped it was expensive equipment. He was gonna let them get all set up, and then he was going to ruin their plans.
Emmitt adjusted the rifle on his shoulder and stood behind the chair he’d brought in for Riyah. “I’m ready when you are.”
“This isn’t happening with you in here,” Riyah said in a firm voice.
Oh hoooo, feisty. God, it was awesome seeing Emmitt’s stupid face go blank and then turn red in anger. Vyr didn’t even hide his smile now. He wished he had popcorn.
“I’m not leaving you alone in here, Princess.”
“Call me ‘Princess’ in front of the prisoners again, I dare you.” Power was wafting from Riyah’s skin in waves, and it amped Vyr up. What the fuck was she? Human, but more. Emmitt was full-on human with piddley little human senses, and he wasn’t backing off Riyah like he should.
Burn him. Burn. Him. Do it. Riyah, Riyah, she’s on fiyah. Show me what you got, little lady.