Torment Read online

  Mina murmured with utter honesty, “Poppy, I’m happy you came out today. I’ve missed you.”

  Poppy relaxed at her tone and tapped her fingers on the table. Her lips twitched. “You just want to start your training up again.”

  “That too.” Mina brushed her perfect blonde hair behind her ear. “But I have missed you. Even if you don’t believe me.” She shook her head. “There’s no one else I can talk to.”

  Finn waved his hand. “Did you forget about me?”

  She thumped his chest with the back of her hand. “You’re not a girl.”

  Rune grabbed my attention, pulling me closer. “We’re a crazy bunch. Sorry.”

  I corrected him. “You guys are the fucking weirdest group of people I’ve ever encountered.”

  “Too much?” His head cocked, and his golden eyes held mine.

  “More than a little,” I answered honestly. “But it’s not a deal breaker. Since I’ve dealt with killers my entire life, the kind with no conscience whatsoever, this isn’t horrible.”

  He snorted. “You just compared us to sociopaths.”

  “There is no comparison. I’d hang out with you guys. Them I wouldn’t.”

  “That’s something, I guess.”

  I pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “That’s everything.”

  Theron returned to his seat, rolling his sleeves back down. He stared at the table. “Our drinks aren’t here yet? She’s sure taking her merry time.” His attention swung to where she was chatting with one of her co-workers, next to her drink tray, it filled and just sitting there.

  Cassander muttered, “Are you going to jip her on a “stupid big tip?”” Gunmetal eyes landed on an irritated dark gaze. He snorted. “I think not.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Let us drop you off.” Rune placed his hands on my hips and pulled my body against his, staring down into my eyes. I could get lost in his golden gaze if I wasn’t careful. He dipped his head down to my level, pressing his forehead against mine, a teasing smile gracing his features. “You know you want to.”

  I chuckled quietly and ran my fingers over his shoulders. “If you’re headed back to Poppy’s place, I’m in the opposite direction.”

  He shrugged, his muscles bunching under my fingertips. “The train is fast.”

  My lips pinched in hesitation. Lunch hadn’t been bad. I halfway liked these weirdos.

  “Come on.” Rune feathered his lips over mine in a ghost’s kiss.

  I sighed, pressing my mouth against his harder. I kissed him once. “Fine.”

  His lips lingered, as he whispered, “The seats recline too. I know you like that.”

  I chuckled, grinning up at him. One good point for him: he made me laugh a lot.

  “Are you coming, asshole?” Alaric jeered from the top of the King Corporation train’s stairs, half hanging out the door. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, a goofy smile twisting his lips. “Quit making out in public. It’s unruly.”

  “He’s just jealous,” Rune whispered. “He gets all grumpy if he’s not getting any.”

  “Fuck you. I got laid this morning.”

  Rune glanced up at him in confusion. “When the hell did you have time for that?”

  He pounded on his chest with his fist, lowering his voice an octave. “I make time.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You guys are a bunch of sex addicts.”

  Golden eyes snapped back to mine, a dark seriousness entering their deep color. “Is that what you think of me? I’ve been laying it on kind of heavy, but I can back—”

  I snapped my hand over his mouth, cutting him short. My eyes crinkled in humor. “I was teasing. I don’t think that. In fact, I can appreciate a healthy sex drive.”

  His eyes heated, and he bit my hand playfully.

  Alaric waved his hand. “Okay, really. We’re done waiting. You guys can take another train if you can’t separate from each other long enough to climb the damn stairs.”

  The sexy man pressed against me, grabbed my hand from over his mouth, and pulled me along behind him up the stairs. “We’re coming. We’re coming.”

  “Hopefully, not in the wet term. That would be a little embarrassing. That’s not even a minute, man. That’s like premature and shit,” Alaric jibed. He backed into the train when Rune tried to kick him in retaliation, barely missing the blow. Alaric laughed as he sat down in a seat, the door closing behind us. He pointed over his shoulder. “We left the back two seats free. So you can smooch and stuff without making us want to hurl.”

  “That’s very considerate of you.” I smiled sweetly.

  Then I kicked him in the shin with my black boot.

  At his shocked expression, I stated innocently, “I don’t miss, even if he does.”

  Rune leaned over and grabbed his knees, laughing so hard his whole body shook.

  From the seat across the aisle, Finn muttered, “Megan, do you remember when I told you that you reminded me of someone?”

  I nodded. “I do.”

  He flicked a finger at Rune’s slumped over form, the man snorting like a pig now since he couldn’t breathe through his amusement. “It was him.”

  My grin widened. “He is hot!”

  Finn rolled his eyes. “Yes, you’re just like him.”

  I rested my hand on Rune’s muscled back and rubbed in soothing motions. “Think you can make it back to our seats?”

  He lifted a finger, sucking in oxygen, tears running down his face. Gradually, he straightened to his full height, hiccups now attacking his body while he brushed off his face. He puffed on air, grinning like a fool, and gasping. “I need to put your address in first. Go ahead and sit down.”

  I took my seat while he typed in my address to the main panel. The clean blue energy stirred, powering up, and we lifted further into the air. Rune took his seat next to me and took the liberty to press the button on my chair. I smirked as the footrest lifted and the backseat reclined.

  I mumbled, “You sure do know how to charm a girl.”

  He snorted and held up a quick hand. “Don’t make me laugh again. My stomach is still killing me.”

  I winked. “I’ll be gentle.”

  Except…his attention shot forward. He inhaled heavily, his nostrils flaring.

  Then, as one, all the men inside the train stood up and stared at one another.

  “That motherfucker,” Cassander hissed.

  “He’s taking over the damn train again,” Wolfe growled. He raced to the main panel, but it was black—void of anything. He tore into the casing around it. “I don’t know if I can stop it in time.”

  Poppy stood to her feet, a calmness about her that was frightening. “What’s happening?”

  “Gas,” Theron explained. “Mr. Valentine is filtering a sleeping agent into the air.”

  She pulled a knife from the sheath on her right leg, glancing at Wolfe. “Need a smaller knife than what you’ve got?”

  He held out a hand, and she tossed it to him. He then jammed it into the side of the panel, through the wood, cutting into the actual train. “The access wires are back here.”

  I swallowed and grabbed Rune’s hand as I pushed up from the recliner, wobbling on my feet. “How long until we’re out?” How they knew there was gas in the air, I hadn’t a clue. But, oddly, I trusted them.

  “A minute. Maximum,” Rune stated softly, kissing my forehead.

  “I should have taken a different train,” I mumbled—a bit deliriously. I grabbed at my forehead, my vision starting to blur. Rune’s face was at a bizarre angle, his lips to the right and his eyes to the left. It was a picture of him that belonged in a museum. “I think I’ll sit back down.”

  He helped me sit on my seat, his strong hands gripping my biceps. “It’ll be okay, beautiful.”

  I shook my head. “That madman chops people up for fun. It won’t be okay.”

  Suddenly, all of the men’s silver bracelets chirped in alarm. Bells ringing in the air.

  If there were a bi
rd next to my ear, I wouldn’t be surprised.

  I closed my eyes and giggled. This gas was trippy.

  Theron’s voice exploded into the air. “God’s gone. Fuck!”

  “I can’t get it. I can’t get it! My goddamn fingers are too big,” Wolfe snarled.

  With my eyes still closed, I tilted my head to the side. This was cozy.

  Thumps hit the ground, a symphony of background music as I fell into peaceful slumber.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  A banging erupted inside my head, waking me from the deepest sleep I’d ever had.

  Pound-pound. Pound-pound. In time to my heartbeat.

  The worst headache in existence resided inside my skull. I moaned in pain, but the sound was muffled. My brows pinched as my tongue caught on a piece of cloth pressed between my teeth and over my tongue. My blue eyes gradually opened to the piercing light that awaited them.

  I squinted against the sunlight, trying to make sense of…everything.

  I had my back shoved up against a thick black pole, and my arms pulled back around it with a form of restraint locking my wrists together, trapping the pole against me. Cuffs bound my feet, tugged tight with a black, long chain tying them to the pole. A piece of material had been shoved into my mouth and tied around the back of my head to hold it in place.

  The pole was stuck down into the lushest brown sand.

  I struggled to test the cuffs. And it was a struggle, my entire body weak. It was as if I had been awake for a full month and running a marathon the entire time. I could hardly shuffle my feet enough to kick up the plentiful sand.

  I groaned and managed to lift my head to evaluate the rest of my surroundings.

  It didn’t get any better.

  In a large circle, black poles were erected in the sand.

  And against each one of them was a furious captive attached to it, trying to free themselves.

  Theron. Finn. Mina. Wolfe. Alaric. Cassander.

  Rune’s pole was directly to my right but more than four body lengths away. His golden eyes were on me, grunting and growling while he jerked on the binds holding him captive. The gag in his mouth stretched his lips, but he hissed around it, “You took forever to wake up.”

  I blinked gritty, dry eyes. “What is happening?”

  “Nothing good,” he spat. More struggling, banging his body against the pole, though his head teetered with it. He repeatedly blinked through the drugs in his system. “Beautiful?”

  I think I accomplished lifting my brows in silent question.

  He understood. “You should have taken that other fucking train.”

  I nodded. Or I was pretty sure I did. “Where are we?”

  “Still in King Central Province.” His eyes looked to the concrete structure towering over and around us—half of it crumbling and broken—his head tipping to the side beyond his control. He swallowed slowly before he slurred, “An ancient coliseum. Gladiators used to fight here.”

  I slowly looked back to the center of our circle. What I had been trying to ignore.

  There was a sword.

  There was a sleeping Poppy, not attached to any structure.

  And there was a flat rock where a man sat with his hands peacefully on his lap. His eyes were closed as if he were in deep slumber sitting ramrod straight. He only wore a pair of black pajama bottoms, the rest of his considerable, muscled body bare to the eyes.

  It was Godric King.

  “Fuck,” I groaned. And tried to pull at my bonds.

  Then Poppy stirred. Her fingers twitched in the sand.

  Cassander went crazy, bashing back and forth on his pole, trying to rock it loose.

  It was no use. The pole had to be attached to something below the sand. It wasn’t moving.

  I squinted when his eyes…turned completely white. Then flashed back to normal.

  He shouted in a rage and shook his head of silver hair like an animal.

  Poppy hissed and lifted the side of her face from the sand, tiny grains falling from her skin and large clumps still sticking to her red curls. She grabbed her head with a trembling hand and barely opened her eyes, squinting at all around. Brown, bloodshot eyes widened as she evaluated the scene around her, her jaw dropping open. She garbled with heat—slurring, “What is happening?”

  Through his gag, Theron barked, “Get up now, Poppy! You need to help us.”

  She didn’t hesitate, though it took her a few tries to get to her feet. Her arms shot out to her sides, wobbling on her feet. Her petite frame teetered back and forth until she steadied herself. Then she walked forward two steps, and then jerked to a halt, stopping dead in her tracks.

  “Fuck!” Cassander snarled. He thrashed at his restraints again.

  We all stared down at her right ankle. Buried beneath the sand was a chain—attached to a solid cuff around her ankle.

  She shook off her surprise and continued moving toward Theron.

  Almost to him, her right leg stopped moving. She hopped forward on her left foot, her right leg extending far out behind her. The chain had reached its full length. Poppy grunted and stretched her arms out in front of her. The tips of her fingers barely brushed the front of Theron’s suit jacket.

  She grunted, sweat glistening on her brow as she struggled to pull forward. “It won’t work.”

  “The sword,” Theron growled. “Try cutting the chain.”

  Her nostrils flared as she hopped back to stand on two legs. “Or my ankle.”

  His head nodded, and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. Theron blinked, opening his eyes again, repeatedly blinking through his drugged haze, and growled, “Get it done.”

  Poppy teetered back to the sword, her legs giving out once beneath her. She clawed at the sand and shoved herself back to her feet. Sand sprinkled down to its home as she walked forward, determination glinting in her eyes. Her gaze caught on Godric for a heartbeat, traveling over his entire frame before she took a deep breath and passed by him to stand on top of the flat rock right next to him. She maneuvered around his body to where the sword sat behind him, centered on the rock.

  She grabbed the hilt of the sword…and then grunted.

  Poppy tugged. Growled. She bent her legs and put strength into it.

  The sword didn’t budge.

  Her muscles started to quiver. Her face turned balloon red as she gritted her teeth.

  Her small hands eventually released the handle. She rose to her full height and pressed her right hand to her forehead, staring at the stuck sword. “There has to be some way to release it.”

  Theron’s voice was muffled behind his gag, but it was clear in the quiet. “Did he leave you with any weapons?”

  Poppy hopped down from the rock, her gait steadier. Her hands flew over her body. Pockets. Boots. A sheath under her shirt. Nothing, utterly nothing. Red hair flew out to the side as her attention snapped to Godric. She swallowed heavily, her throat bobbing. Her voice was quiet. “He left one weapon.”

  She put one foot in front of the other to stand directly in front of her lover.

  Her eyes ran over his features with such tenderness.

  Poppy bit her lower lip and then she pulled her gaze away from his face and down to his lap. She bent over and grabbed his hands. I squinted, unable to see what she saw. With a heavy breath, she lifted a foreign object from his lap and backed away slowly from him. She swallowed, her face paling as she stared into her lover’s face, continuing to take steps backward, away from him.

  Gripping the object down by her side, she muttered, “He left me Godric’s gun.”

  Then her lover’s eyes opened. Peaceful and calm. “Hello, Ms. Carvene.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Poppy’s lips pinched at the sound of her lover’s voice. “Godric?”

  Cassander and Theron thrashed inside their bindings.

  The poles still didn’t move.

  Godric stood to his full intimidating height and stretched his arms over his head, arching his back. Bones popped from disu
se, but he merely smiled. It was small. And more than a little evil as he stared at her. He chuckled, like a man winning a victory, spreading his arms wide to walk in a slow circle, his gaze traveling over each of us on our poles.

  He answered, “No. Not Godric.”

  “Kill him,” Rune barked. “Do it now, Poppy.”

  I stared at the “gun” she had in her hand. I’d never seen anything like it before. She had said it was a weapon, and Theron was acting like it was one. If Godric wasn’t ‘home’ right now, and intended to harm her, then she had damn well better use that weird thing.

  Godric lifted a finger into the air. “Tsk. Tsk. One of the aberrations speaks.” His eyes snapped to Rune. “I didn’t give you permission, though.”

  “Fuck you,” Rune growled.

  Poppy’s nostrils flared, her voice a low hiss. “What do you want, Mr. Valentine?”

  My eyes flew to Godric.

  That motherfucker was inside his head?

  My limbs began to tremble, fear icing my veins and shooting to my head. My headache pounded even more fiercely, and my stomach turned. Bile rose in my throat, and I swiftly swallowed it down. If I puked, I’d drown myself in it with the gag in my mouth.

  We were all fucked.

  Godric turned his attention back to the redhead. The evil smile returned, curling his lips in nasty hatred. “We’re going to play a game. Are you ready to have some fun?”

  Her jaw clenched together. She didn’t speak, her hand trembling where she held the gun.

  “I’ll talk. I don’t mind.” Godric strolled around the flat rock where the sword lay in the middle. He pointed at it while keeping his eyes on her, his bare feet kicking up tiny grains of sand with each slow step he took. “This game is called Spin the Sword. I will be doing the spinning. And wherever the pointy end lands, I kill that individual.”

  “You. Sick. Fuck.” Poppy’s hand tightened on the gun.

  Godric shrugged his massive shoulders, snickering quietly. “You know it won’t actually kill them.” A head tilt to Cassander. “Except for that one. And possibly Theron.”