FALL (The Senses) (36 page)

Waleron met his eyes and Delara
was uncertain if Waleron refused to answer or if he was in too much pain to
open his mouth without doing exactly as Tarek wanted.

Tarek must have heard her stifled
sobs. He turned, a slow smile lighting his face as he noticed she was awake.
“At last.” He stalked over to her, the leather strap dragging behind him,
dripping a trail of Waleron’s blood. Delara fought against her bounds, eyes
widening with fear. She knew what Tarek was capable of. Had lived with it. But
once she learned to follow his rules, it had been rare he ever raised a hand to
her. Then he found Waleron’s note.

This was far worse. The gleam in
his almond-colored eyes scintillated a joviality that mixed with madness. His
lids were opened too wide and his grin too phony. The once aristocratic face
that held a genuine smile had been displaced by a demented leer. She noticed
the twitch in his muscles, a mild tic that was barely discernible.

The sweet iron smell of blood
permeated the air as did the sweat that both men exuded, one from excruciating
pain, the other from his crazed state of mind filled with what was obvious
pleasure.

Tarek grabbed her by the back of
the head and yanked to the side. She heard Waleron’s speechless objection, his
chains rattling as he fought against them. She bit down hard on the gag to
avoid wincing and giving Tarek the satisfaction of seeing the pain he caused
her. What she imagined doing was spitting in his wretched face and then taking
her knife and sinking it up between his ribs. But those thoughts quickly
dissipated.  “You see what arrived today, love. Waleron all wrapped up in
chains. Had to pay a pretty penny for him. A Taldeburu at my disposal and the
woman who loves him.” He yanked the gag from her mouth and tossed it to the
ground. “He destroyed us. Him. And he will pay for it.”

Delara lowered her gaze.
“Waleron,
I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.”
A sharp pain tore through her the moment she
used her telepathy.

“Don’t, baby. Please. I’m
begging you.”

Tarek grabbed her hair and jerked
her head back. “I wish I could see their faces when I send Waleron’s body back
to them.” He laughed, the subtle lines around his dimples deepening.

Delara jerked her head to the
side and the rope cut into her throat. She glared at Tarek and spat in his
face. He calmly wiped her saliva from his cheek then slapped her hard. The
sting in her cheek felt like a burning fire, but she bit the inside of her
mouth and kept from displaying her reaction.

“And you? They will never find
you. There are no Senses in Brazil, no one to contact. Zurina picked a perfect
location. No way off the island, no escape.”

“They will come, Delara.
Already, they know Zurina is involved.”

Delara still felt the effects of
the tranquilizer, but she fought against her chains, her mind screaming with
hatred. Tarek raised his arm and the leather-studded strap came down across her
chest.

The blistering pain made her back
arch and her body jerked with revolt. She held in her scream, not wanting to
give Tarek the satisfaction of seeing her cry out. She’d die before letting him
win.

“Delara!” Waleron’s chains
rattled as he fought against them, but his efforts were slow. His body had been
ravaged, torn and ripped apart. He was barely conscious. “I can’t…damn it. The
drugs, my Scar can’t...”

Tarek laughed then
strode over to Waleron. He raised the whip and it snapped in the
air then landed so hard into Waleron that his body swung back and forth on the
chains. She felt the instant Waleron fell unconscious. Limp. Head hung between
his shoulders. His hands no longer curled around the chains.

Delara sobbed. Choking on the
cries that refused to stop. Tarek growled something incomprehensible. He waved
his hand at a lever on the far wall and the chains Waleron was attached to in
the ceiling dropped. He crashed to the floor.

Waleron didn’t move.

“Don’t worry, he’s still
breathing. I need him to make you behave. At least for a little while. Let the
Senses worry about their powerful, strong Taldeburu Waleron.” Tarek strode over
and grabbed her by the chin. “Guess he will be making the ultimate sacrifice
this time. Himself.” Tarek lowered his head and took her lips, forcing her
mouth open. She bit down hard on his tongue and he cried out, then bit her
upper lip. “Bitch.”

She waited for the backlash, but
instead he went back to Waleron. He smiled as he raised the leather strap.
“Punishment, Delara.” The strap came down on Waleron’s still form. His body
didn’t react. The blood splattered the floor and walls as Tarek lashed him
several more times. Delara’s sobs lost to the sound of the snap of the whip.
When Tarek stopped, his voice was quiet and calm. “I have the strange feeling
we’re going to get along just fine this time.” He raised his hand to another
lever on the far wall and her neck rope loosened and chains released.

Her arms fell to her sides, pins
and needles instantly coming alive as blood rushed back into her limbs.

“Don’t let him die, my love.”
Tarek whistled as he walked out.

Delara fell the moment she took a
step. It didn’t stop her as she scrambled on her hands and knees towards
Waleron. She placed his head in her lap, cradling and caressing him. Tears
continued to fall down her pale skin and land on his chest.

“Waleron.” She stroked his face
with the tips of her fingers then lowered her head and kissed his lips.
“Waleron please.”

He groaned, his hand rising off
the floor an inch then falling limp again.

“Open your eyes. Look at me.” She
reached down and grabbed his hand, holding it to her heart. His breathing was
too shallow. “Breathe, Waleron please. Don’t leave me again.”

“How long…has it been?”

“I don’t know. It’s the drugs. I
can’t judge time.” He tried to sit up but she stayed him with her hand. “Don’t.
Save your strength.”

“What strength?” He searched her
face with hazy eyes filled with pain. She knew it must be agony for him just
laying here and yet she could do nothing to help him. He grunted as he shifted.
“Listen to me, baby. You get the chance, you get out of here. Understand?”

“No. Don’t ask that of me.” The
thought of leaving him, of knowing what Tarek would do to him if she left. “I
can’t.”

“I’m not asking. You will do it.”
His hand slid across the cold cement floor and touched her thigh and squeezed.
“Promise me.”

She swallowed the bile in her
throat, shaking her head back and forth.

“Delara. You must.” He closed his
eyes as if the effort of speaking was too much.

She inhaled a quivering breath.
“If I can convince him to let you go maybe—”

“I won’t leave you here.”
Waleron’s eyes flew open and she witnessed something different. It was
softness. Warmth she hadn’t seen in a really long time. “Ever. Okay?” She ran
her hand over his shaved head, the bristles so familiar and yet...it had been a
long time since she’d caressed him like this. It took him being beaten to near
death, for her to be able to hold him like this.

Delara wiped the tears off her
face with the back of her hand. The image of Waleron’s body being thrashed, the
pain on his face. God, she’d do anything to save him from that again. He’d
suffered enough. God, hadn’t he suffered enough?

He raised his arm and stroked her
cheek with his thumb. She noticed him grimace from the movement. He rubbed back
and forth over her skin then caressed her lower lip. She kissed his hand before
taking it in hers and bringing it to her chest.

She felt defeated. Broken. Most
of all ashamed of being unable to stop the despair from eating away at her
insides like an insect. She was cracking. Hopelessness clung to her like
leaches.

“Baby, we are only hopeless when
we are not together.” Waleron closed his eyes and blacked out.

Chapter
17

She had no idea how long they
slept on the cement floor before she jolted awake to the lever creaking and
moving upwards, then the door opening. Delara quickly checked Waleron, and
calmed when she saw his steady breaths. She scrambled to her feet as Tarek
strode in the door, his cocky grin eyeing her chest. Waleron’s blood had seeped
into her shirt and her breasts were accentuated with blotches of red.

Waleron groaned and his muscles
recoiled at his movement. She’d seen his back. Knew it was ravaged. The wounds
were so horrific that Delara felt queasy just thinking about it, and in her
lifetime she’d witnessed some grisly wounds. The torture. The suffering. It was
all because of her. This was her fault. Tarek was demented and obsessed with
her and she’d brought Waleron into it.

Tarek swung the gold rope in his
hand, it was the same one as before, and Delara guessed he’d acquired it from
Zurina. Zurina was the only person who had enough connections to get something
like this. She must have been planning, building her repertoire for Tarek,
hovering like a snake in the grass until Tarek was released and then she could
make her move.

God, why? Why after all these
years would Zurina want her to suffer? Did she hate her that much?

“My oath, Delara. She swore to
my mother she’d keep me from ever swaying from what I was born to do.”

Zurina had mentioned that in the
Realm, but—

Tarek cracked the rope and it
made a loud snap in the air. Delara sidestepped to the right, making certain
she was blocking Waleron.

“Protecting him? Sweet. But that
won’t last long.”

Delara glared as he strode
towards her. He stopped; his fingers were wrapped tightly around the rope ready
to wield it at any second. She tested her telekinesis, but the drug Tarek had given
them was still lingering in her system. She suspected he knew that.

Tarek’s hand reached out and
Delara tensed. His cold fingers caressed her cheek then curled around the base
of her skull, pulling her hair to bring her so close that their chests met. She
kept her eyes focused on him. Everything in her body told her to run.
Self-preservation screamed as the memories flooded. But her need to protect
Waleron was stronger.

“Twenty years I lay in Rest
dreaming about you. The nightmare of finding his letter repeated in my dreams
over and over again. The beating. The agony of what I’d done.” His fingers
tightened around her strands of hair. “I don’t want to hurt you, Delara.” He
pushed up against her. “All I want to do is love you. But you won’t let me.”
Bullshit. Love didn’t come with fear. “But we’ll be together now.” He yanked on
her hair and she bit the inside of her lip to stop the cry of pain.

“Delara. Now. Break his hold.”

Waleron. They knew one another’s
movements like a dance. She slammed her elbow up into Tarek’s face. At the same
time Waleron leapt up and tackled him. The gilded rope whipped into the air as
Tarek reacted. She ducked as it flung towards her.

Delara ran to the door. Her feet were
heavy from the medicine; everything was in slow motion. She reached the lever
and pushed up. It wouldn’t budge. She glanced over her shoulder. Tarek had
gained the advantage. Waleron was on his back.

“I can’t get it…”
She pushed, pulled, yanked on the lever. It wouldn’t budge.

The rope snapped and rang in the
air. Delara screamed out a warning. Waleron shifted to the right, but a second
too late. It wrapped around his throat and Tarek yanked. Both men were on their
feet now. Waleron’s hands latched onto the gold rope. Delara smelled his flesh
burning, an acrid taste in her throat as it melted. No. She ran towards them,
jumping on Tarek’s back. It threw him off balance and Waleron managed to get his
hands between the rope and his throat.

An elbow punched into her side
and Delara fell backwards several feet. Waleron rolled. He met her eyes and
nodded. She ran two steps, slid on the floor and used the momentum to kick
Tarek in the back of the legs. He stumbled forward towards Waleron and the rope
loosened enough for Waleron to inhale. She punched Tarek in the side of the
head then kneed him in the groin. He went down like a lead weight, eyes tearing
and his face a mask of agony.

“Waleron.” Delara helped him lift
the rope off his neck and his skin peeled away with it. The burns looked deep,
like they were third-degree, and had just missed his Scar.

They ran for the door.

Waleron pushed up on the lever.
She put her hands over top of his and they tried together.

Nothing.

Waleron was bleeding profusely;
the wounds on his back had reopened and were now dripping down his skin and
landing on the cement floor. She heard a shuffling of feet and turned to see
Tarek swinging the rope over his head like a lasso. She ran for him again.

“Delara, no!” Waleron shouted.

She ignored him as she charged
Tarek. She was slower than usual, but managed to jump for the rope the same
time Tarek threw it at Waleron. The gold-covered cord ripped at her hands as
she stopped the momentum.