The King and the Courtesan (33 page)

Something grabbed my ankle. I kicked, but all I hit was the underside of the table. As I was dragged backward, an arm closed around my waist, pinning me to a body that stank of sweat. I attempted to kick and punch and bite as best I could, but my attacks seemed to ricochet off him. When I finally got a look, I saw my kidnapper was Zarek.

I wasn’t shocked by this development at all.

The world around me went dark as Zarek sealed both himself and me into a windowless room. Using the sleeves of his discarded jacket, he tied my hands behind my back. Even as I attempted to kick him in the face, he threw me over his shoulder, a seemingly effortless task, and dashed out of the room. Since I was faced opposite him, I saw a few of his soldiers follow us, guns pointed toward the room we’d just escaped. When the door jolted, more shots rang out, keeping Ezekiel and his men inside. I wriggled, but with my hands tied and my ankles secured in Zarek’s sweaty grip, my terrified squirming didn’t do jack-squat.

We went down the twisted staircase and ended up at a back door that Zarek kicked open. I was thrown rather unceremoniously into a gray sedan waiting for us there. Zarek followed behind me. He spat an order at the driver, and the car roared off into the night. I aimed a few sidekicks at Zarek, but he cuffed me so hard across the head that my vision swam, and I collapsed against the door.

As I fought through the fog clouding my mind, I noticed headlights flickering behind us. Straining my neck to see, I peeked through the window to the car trailing us; I recognized it. It was my bodyguard; he’d been waiting outside for us.

Noticing my interest, Zarek grabbed a handful of my hair and slammed my head against the window. It was a test to see what would crack first—my skull or the glass. Neither splintered, but the impact rattled my brain into complacency. Somehow I knew I had to keep fighting, but it was hard to organize my thoughts, let alone get control of my body.

Zarek grabbed both of my ankles and dragged me toward him until my legs circled his waist. When he let go of one to undo the fly of his pants, I found enough coordination and energy to lift a leg and kick him under his chin. He hit me once more, and my recovery time was not nearly so quick. When he flipped me onto my stomach, all I could do was spit out the blood in my mouth and try to keep myself from vomiting.

The car took a sharp turn, and both of us smashed into the car door. Zarek snapped at the driver, who replied apologetically. We were really flying now, and I could only hope we’d run into a tree. Zarek would probably end up with his head through the windshield.

He sat on the backs of my thighs now, making my legs practically useless. The blood running freely from my nose and mouth collected on the seat, and the constant movement of the car rubbed my face in it.

His huge hands pawed at my dress, yanking it past my waist. I wriggled and attempted to cry out, but it wasn’t enough. Zarek’s grip tore through the straps of my underwear, and I was left bare-bottomed.

His hand fell on my butt, but that’s as far as he got before a car rammed into the back of us. Then a gun went off, followed by a loud
bang
that sounded much like a tire blowing. The car swerved and smashed Zarek against the window, dazing him for a moment. When his body slumped, I scrambled up onto my knees only to be thrown to the other side of the car when it jerked again.

Zarek let out an animalistic growl and grabbed me by the hair, dragging me toward him, but by then the car had stopped and the driver was reaching for his gun. He said something to Zarek before stepping out of the car. He was instantly mowed down by gunfire, specks of blood flying through the air as his body jerked and twisted. Finally, he crumpled to the ground.

My eyes leapt to the car behind us. It was Ezekiel’s man, my bodyguard, cradling a semi-automatic rifle. Tears filled my eyes, partially in terror and partially in relief.

Zarek grabbed the pistol on the seat, but I kicked it with my foot, sending it flying to the floor. He hit me again, but I didn’t even care. By the time he wrestled me down and had both hands around my throat, my bodyguard—I didn’t even know his name—threw open the back door and jammed his gun into the back of Zarek’s head.

Ezekiel’s man barked orders in Sehitian, and Zarek slowly crawled out of the car. He was kicked to the muddy road, forced to lie on his stomach. I did my best to yank my dress back down. Blood had already soaked through the bodice.

“Melissa, can you find something to tie him up with?” my bodyguard asked, voice hard. I tried to look around, but my vision swayed again, and I stumbled backward against the car. I scrambled to retain a memory of how I’d gotten here, but it began to slip away like smoke.

“Melissa,” he barked.

“I’m tied up,” I whimpered, trying to wiggle my arms but unable. “I don’t think I can stand…”

I looked around, finally noticing where we were. It looked like some slum of Kafattan. Even though one man was shot dead and another was taken captive, no one came outside. I saw a face in a barred window here or there, children perhaps. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to live in a place where such gruesome scenes were common. Metro could be dangerous, but never were there public executions in the street.

Like a breeze, my thoughts blew away from me, leaving me confused and disoriented again. I wanted to sit down, but I was worried what might happen if I did. I wanted the ability to run in case the tides turned.

Another car squealed around the corner and braked hard behind us. I considered running, but then I saw Ezekiel, Osric, and Bruce slide out, illuminated by the car’s headlights. Osric bled from the shoulder, but there was a makeshift bandage soaking up most of the leakage. Bruce and Ezekiel appeared unscathed.

I knew Ezekiel provided all his cars with tracking devices should any of them go missing, so I didn’t wonder how they’d found us so quickly. Ezekiel stalked calmly and confidently toward the scene, looking unruffled as always. His hair was out of place and there were some bloodstains on his white suit, but that was the only difference in his appearance.

Ezekiel came to me first, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to dab at the blood dribbling down my face.

“Are you all right?” he asked, peering at me carefully.

“I don’t feel so good,” I whispered, wishing I could rest my head on his shoulder and go to sleep.

Ezekiel cradled my head in his hand for a moment, and I winced. After glancing over at a trembling Zarek, he turned back to me. “You did well, Melissa.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Osric.” Ezekiel pulled away sharply, and Osric stepped forward, taking my arm. He didn’t pull me toward the car. Rather, he just stood next to me.

“Bruce.” Ezekiel crooked a finger at his bodyguard, who came forward. “See that pipe on the side of the road there?”

Ezekiel pointed at some muddy, rusty pipe that lay abandoned near the side of the road, jutting out of the ground at an awkward angle.

“Yes, sir.”

“Grab it for me.”

Bruce did as he was told. The pipe put up some resistance, but Bruce’s strength eventually managed to pull it from the ground. It hadn’t looked so large at a distance, but it was about two inches in diameter, filled with muck and covered in flaking rust. One side was tapered to a point, kind of like a hollow pencil.

Ezekiel took the pipe from Bruce and stepped up to Zarek, whose anger now bled into fear. Ezekiel stood with his feet planted directly in front of Zarek, who craned his head back to look at him.

Ezekiel dropped the pipe in front of Zarek and some mud splattered up across his face. Zarek spit out some sort of expletive, I was sure, but Ezekiel replied calmly. Then Zarek turned desperate. He began to cry and shake his head. Ezekiel leaned down until they were almost at eye level, taking Zarek’s chin so they could meet each other’s gaze. Ezekiel almost seemed affectionate, the way he tilted his head and whispered to Zarek. Tears ran down Zarek’s face. When Ezekiel stood, Zarek began to beg, crying out in a way that hardly suited his enormous and intimidating frame.

“What’s—Osric? What’s going on?”

Osric didn’t answer. His gaze was unflinching, his lips drawn into a thin line.

Bruce came forward and Ezekiel handed him the pipe. Instead of beating Zarek with it, which was what I expected, Bruce simply pulled out a knife and bent over Zarek. He took the tip of his knife and cut through Zarek’s belt. Yanking down his trousers, Bruce put a foot under Zarek’s butt and lifted it.

“He’s not—” My voice died. I looked to Osric for confirmation, but he still wouldn’t look at me.

Bruce cut off Zarek’s underwear, leaving only his bottom to glare pale white in the headlights. Zarek began to scream and writhe, but my bodyguard pinned him to the ground and kept him still. Ezekiel stood with his hands behind his back. From this angle, the headlights kept his back lit, but from Zarek’s point of view, Ezekiel was a figure bathed in shadow, surrounded by an ethereal glow.

“Get in the car, Melissa,” Osric murmured, finally looking at me. “You don’t want to see this.”

I foolishly watched for the next few seconds, even as my gut clenched and bile rose in my throat. I looked long enough to see Bruce aim the pipe, to watch the tapered end sink deep between the cheeks of Zarek’s rear end.

I watched long enough to hear Zarek’s screams.

I turned and vomited.

We left Jahral the next day.

I was driven back to the city house with my bodyguard, and I slept alone in a small, feminine room with bars across the windows. When I woke, Osric offered to drive me back to the country estate. He said the plane was on its way over, and after I gathered all my things, we’d head out to the landing strip to board. After we landed, I could get proper medical treatment for my concussion. My split lip was already healing on its own. I was so glad to be going home soon. I missed Sumertha so much. I even missed Metro, with its overgrown lawns and extensive litter. I knew how lucky I was to have the option to leave—so many people here did not.

Osric and I didn’t talk much. I curled up in the corner of the truck and stared out into the thick wilderness, still trying to fight the terrible memories haunting me. I probably shouldn’t have felt bad for Zarek, after the terrible things he did and the terrible things he
might
have done if not for my bodyguard’s vigilance. I was relieved that Ezekiel’s men saved me. I just couldn’t get Zarek’s screams out of my head.

“Melissa?” Osric asked after a good hour of driving.

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

“Why do you care?” I grumbled.

Osric sighed and didn’t reply.

I looked over at him. I was sure Osric had some sort of soul, shriveled and rotten as it was. I wondered if he really did care, or if it was all just an act. I was afraid Osric wanted to talk about last night, which I certainly didn’t want to discuss, so I attempted to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“You have any siblings or anything?” I asked, hugging my knees to my chest. I didn’t know why I felt the need to ask—maybe knowing if he had a family could make him more human to me.

“Yeah. A younger brother.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s still in high school.” Osric fumbled around his pockets until he found a pack of cigarettes. He drew one out with his lips. “He’s the smart one in the family,” he mumbled around it.

“Huh.”

“I hope he goes and does something with his life. He’s been doing okay. He’s taking care of Mom and everything. It would be great if he went to college. He’s got the brains for it.”

“But?”

Osric shrugged. “It’s like everyone in Metro. When you’re young, you don’t see the point to education and bettering yourself. You just want drugs and women and money to pay the rent for the next month. And Kiril is probably gonna fall for that bullshit. It’s his problem if he does. Doesn’t mean I don’t have hope for him.”

I just nodded and stared out the windshield. The story was so common that it stopped being tragic.

* * *

I didn’t see Ezekiel again until I was on the plane. I was resting in a chair with my head rolled onto my shoulder when he boarded. With a soft moan, I stood, even though my head still wasn’t feeling up to the task. I knew Ezekiel didn’t personally kill Zarek in such a horrific way, but he did order it and hadn’t looked away.

“Good afternoon, Melissa,” he greeted, his voice smooth and nonchalant, a far leap from my own emotional state. There was nothing in his eyes, no regret or anger, simply that calm blue that remained no matter what. Those were the eyes I looked into when we had sex, and those were the eyes that murdered without flinching.

“Good morning,” I whispered, somehow keeping my voice from shaking.

Bruce and Garrett ascended into the plane behind him, neither of them looking ruffled, either. After wrestling the hatch closed, they disappeared into a room farther back in the plane, leaving Ezekiel and me alone again.

Ezekiel stepped forward to grab a glass of champagne. He motioned for me to sit as he did. I was glad it wasn’t on his lap this time.

He surveyed me as he sipped, and eventually, I looked at him. We stared at each other for a good five seconds before he spoke.

“I know last night upset you,” he murmured, setting down his glass.

I looked away and bit my lip.

“I shouldn’t have done such with you there. I apologize for that.”

“Why? Why not just shoot him in the head or something?” I whispered.

“And spare him the humiliation he put you through?” Ezekiel shook his head. “I believe in equal retribution, Melissa. Do you think you are the first woman he’s kidnapped and attempted to violate? Of course not. And some of these women did not have the luxury of having men around to save them.” His eyes dug into mine until I felt the gaze in my gut. “It is a shame I had to kill him so quickly. I would have preferred to interrogate him for information beforehand. But I do hate to postpone punishment when it’s due.” He leaned forward. “Men need to learn, Melissa. They need to learn that if they so much as
touch
what is mine, they will suffer the consequences. Spare no pity for Zarek. He got exactly what he deserved, and no more. Jahral will be a better place without him.”