The Gift (30 page)

His heart seemed to swell inside his chest. He had to fight to keep back both gags and tears. "Let me out, Anton. Let me out!"

He couldn't relax enough to focus; he couldn't still himself to find the power even if he thought he could use it. What had Anton said? Padlock? Could he even open a padlock? Had he ever tried? He didn't think so. And where was Auggie? What had they done to him? Where were the guys? Were they looking for him? Why hadn't they found him? God, where was all the oxygen? Had they not vented the space at all?

A rush of cool air found him as Anton slid open the tiny square that allowed the driver to view the back of the van. Doren rushed for the opening, clawing at the tiny peephole. "Let me out. You have to let me out. Please, just let me out."

The smug look on Anton's face fed a flash of anger through Doren's guts that was so painful he punched the wall of the van. The echo that surrounded him was deafening and he clutched his ears, dragging breath that didn't sustain and trying to get a rein on emotion that had long since galloped out of his reach.

"Doren, Doren," Anton laughed, "don't get so upset. We're just going on a little ride is all. Short trip. No concerns. We would have loved to make you more comfortable but sometimes want must give way for need. And Doren, love, I do need you docile."

With a cold click the opening was shut, removing all light, stilling all sound. Doren scrambled to find the tiny square that could take away the darkness, scratching at the surface of the van without regard to fingernail or bone.

Relief knocked him off his feet when the peephole was slid aside again. He stared at Anton and Anton grinned back. "Oh, and Doren? Do watch out for the rats, hmm?"

While Doren choked on frustration, losing his battle to contain his fear, once again Anton slammed the divider and stole the light.

The light was harsh, a solitary bulb that swung naked above August's head—back and forth, back and forth. He blinked unfocused eyes and dragged himself up off the damp concrete. His jaw ached and his body felt like it had been through a stone-crusher. He sought out the most uncomfortable spots with his fingertips, feeling tenderly for damage until he was satisfied he could stand without collapsing. He was unsteady when he got to his feet, swaying like a palm tree in a hurricane, but he forced himself to concentrate. Get a hold, he told himself. See what we're up against.

August forced blurry eyes to assess: block walls dripped with lime and moisture, a concrete floor and ceiling that had been poured rough, unleveled and unfinished, and in front of him, a massive darkened mirror that looked completely out of place in such a coarse setup. He walked towards the mirror and leaned close, trying to fix his eyes past the glass. "Oh, yeah," he whispered. It was a two-way, for sure. It had only made sense that it would be. He gritted his teeth and banged on the glass. "Open up, you fuckers. Where's Doren?"

The surface didn't even tremble underneath his fists. "Not kidding," he tried again, banging hard enough to make his fist sore. "I will tear through this if I have to."

A light clicked on behind the mirror and with the illumination, mirror lightened to mere glass. "I think I liked the view better before," August said smartly, staring directly into the cold, dark eyes of Morana. "What have you done with everyone?"

"Oh no, August," Morana said. "It's not what we've done with everyone else. Only what we've done with you."

He rolled his eyes. "No games, Morana. I don't have time for them. Just tell me where the fuck I can find Doren."

Morana frowned and shook her head. "Look at you. Swearing like a miscreant. And here you were such a sweet boy but a few days ago." She crossed her arms in front of her. "What happened, August? Did you find out that life isn't all rainbows and roses?"

August glared back. "Well, if anyone would know the truth of that it would be you, you freaky old bitch. Where's. Doren?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Morana tutted. "Relax, boy. Doren is fine. You know that I mean him no harm. On the contrary, I want to offer him the world."

"Yeah, well, I hate to tell you, but Doren's not interested in your world."

Morana advanced on the mirror, closing the distance between the two of them. "Are you sure, August? Are you convinced of that? How much soul-searching have you done to know that's the truth?"

"I don't need to search very hard to know that," August sneered. "Doren is a good person. He doesn't want to hurt anybody."

With an arm's length between them Morana stopped and caught his eye. "Oh? Is that so? He's a good person, is he? Tell me, August, what has he done to prove that to you? He cajoled you into giving up your virginity after you denied him time and time again. He's stolen your love and never once offered it back to you. He taunts. He teases. Can you tell me that Doren doesn't hurt people's feelings or say unkind words? Will you have me believe that he only thinks about others and never puts himself first? What has he really, really done to show you that he's a good person?"

August pushed away from the glass, turning his head to break their eye contact. "He … he wrote me a song!"

Morana laughed, throwing her head back and opening her mouth wide. "A song? Well, how lovely. ‘Summer Dream,’ right? Not true love, not forever yours, no, ‘Summer Dream.’ Because that couldn't be about anyone, could it? Tell me, if it's such a great and powerful honor, such a definitive show of his truth and wholeness, his love for you, August …" Once again she caught and held his gaze, and his eyes refused to grant him the mercy of letting go, "… whom did he write the other fifteen songs for?"

"Stop!" August hissed. "I know what you're trying to do and it's not going to work. You're not going to change my mind. Even if he doesn't love me, which he does, I fucking know he does, but even if he doesn't, I still love him. And I would happily travel through hell for him if I have to."

Morana lifted an eyebrow. "Would you?" She stepped an inch closer to the glass. "Would you really, August?" Her voice softened, taking on an almost melodic tone. "Because I could make sure, you know. We could make sure that he never strayed, that he never turns you away. I could make him love you forever."

"You can't make someone love you."

"Ah, but you're wrong. You think it shouldn't be so, I know. But these men aren't like you and I, August. Not even one as powerful as Anton believes that he is. I own him. Through careful, controlled manipulation I made him love me because I made him need me. And I can do the same with you and Doren. Every Queen needs a Magistrate she can trust—one with enough power and control to be her hand when she can't reach, to be her eyes when she can't see, to be her other self when she can't be there. Together we could rule this place. We could make every man worship us and every woman serve us."

August waved her away, walking backwards. The woman was trying to get into his head. And the only way to play that game back was to volley with the same steps. "I don't want servants, Morana, I only want Doren."

"And I promise him to you," Morana said, the glee sharpening her voice. "I'll even do you one better, August." She stepped another inch closer. "I will let you destroy Anton. I know you hate him. I know he disgusts you. And with Doren's power working with mine, with your skills making both of ours unconquerable, we won't need him. I promise you, boy, I will let you force that evil man to his knees and make him beg you for mercy. However you want it, he will be yours to do as you will."

August lowered his voice to a near whisper. "I don't trust you. You're no better than him. You drugged me, you hurt me."

Closer still Morana stepped. "He wanted me to. It's always him with the iron fist and the cold heart. He is so bitter, August. But once he is gone, then you'll see the real me." She licked her lips as August forced himself to move closer. "You will see then that I would never hurt you. I know you, August. I know you are kind and good and honest. I only seek to give you your heart's desire. Of course, I also wish to get what I want at the same time. But, boy, believe me. We could be lords above all men."

Again August nudged closer, and again Morana followed his movement. "Would Doren be safe?" The closer they got, the lower August made his voice so that Morana had to strain to hear him.

"Safer than in his mother's arms."

"Would you be nice to me?"

"Oh, baby boy," she laughed huskily. "I would be so nice to you. No one has ever been so nice as I could be. There is a whole world out there that you do not know yet. The power that you could find to use, the forces we could search out together! August, you would be invincible."

"I would?"

"We would," Morana said. "You and me and Doren."

"You?" August mumbled, training his eyes on Morana's, locking their gazes, softening his expression and pleading silently for Morana to come closer, just come closer.

"Yes," she replied, voice trembling.

August leaned towards the glass. "And me?"

"Yes!" Morana all but breathed against the glass she was so close. "You and me."

August lifted his hands, spreading them, palms flat against the cold. "Show me, Morana," he murmured. "Show me how it could be."

Oh, such terrible fun, Anton chuckled to himself. What a wicked way to train a dog; what a wicked thing to enjoy it so much. Poor little fella: afraid of the dark, afraid of the teeny weeny room. He reached for his seatbelt and, just as he was about to clasp it shut, Anton released it as though he had been set on fire. "Fuck!" he gasped.

"Sir?"

"That fucking little prick!" He threw open the door and jumped out of the van. "Take him to the meeting place. But leave him in the van. I will meet you there shortly."

"Sir?" The driver looked apprehensively into the rear-view mirror. "You want me to take him alone, sir?"

"Fuck!" Anton slapped his forehead in frustration, repeating it again as if the sting went along with the expletive. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! I do not have time for this. I do not have time for your questions and your trepidations. Damn it, man, do as you're told!"

He slammed the van door and began to retrace his steps into the stadium. That sniveling, iniquitous, manipulative little prick! Hell, maybe Morana had been right. Maybe August would be perfect for the job after all. Apparently August did have the ability to slide on his belly when required, apparently being a snake came easy.

He walked faster, hurrying down the hall, while sweat started to bead on his forehead. With every step the weight of the blade in his jacket bumped against his chest. It was comforting. And comfort was a welcome follower to his travel at that moment. Oh, Morana, he mused. You stupid cow. You can't even see that he's playing you. I can see it from hundreds of feet away and you can't from a few inches? You're so blinded by your own libido that you allow that prick to lead you by your pussy, tempting and teasing you to come, come, come.

He knew she'd been getting weak. He had been right to worry about her. He'd been an idiot to let her talk him into allowing her to do this one thing. Try and replace him? To try and replace him nonetheless? What a simpleton. What a fool.

Reaching the bubbling point of frustration, Anton growled out loud and began to run down the slick basement stairs just as the thought of her reaching for the glass came to his searching mind. His eyes flew wide. No, Morana! You stupid, mournful sod, don't you dare!

He saw Morana's greed pulling her hands to the glass, wanting, needing to feel the boy, desperate to connect with him. Like that would somehow make August come willingly? He watched Morana's mind's eye focus on August's parted lips, felt her desire to push her tongue inside of it, and Anton slammed through the door of the containment room just in time to see Morana's hands touch the surface of the glass, connecting the two of them palm to palm. August turned slowly, already pulling, and smiled at Anton coldly.

"Fuck you," August mouthed as the inch thick glass shattered into thousands of pieces, drenching the three of them with shards as August reached forward and grasped Morana's wrists, magnifying his efforts with skin to skin. He drew Morana's power into a circle as long fingers of glass arced into the air, falling, spinning, and shattering on the stone around the two of them. Not a single piece pierced August's flesh. Morana was not so protected.

Still holding both Morana's hands, August picked the woman up and flung her. Her bony body hit Anton hard, the two of them tumbling, and in one quick vault August was in the room—two more steps and he was at the open doorway. He turned and stared at Anton, his eyes cold. "I will still find a way to kill you, Anton. Count on it."

Anton heard his steps echo down the hall and every racing beat of sole made the tension in Anton's head grow. Yet another game of catch-me-if-you-can. Just what he needed.

Growling in exasperation Anton stood, shaking, desperate to release some of the vile energy that coursed through his blood. Without a second thought, he lifted Morana off the ground and tossed what could only be an already broken body yet again. Demons did not wail so profoundly as what that woman could manage, Anton thought. Angry, nasty, mind-stealing demons …

"I warned you." He tried to control the shake in the words, but failed at restraining the spit from spraying off his lips. "I warned you that I would not tolerate any more mistakes. I warned you that I would not tolerate any deviance. You have thwarted me once too often and I do not abide a traitor."

She should never have underestimated him, he thought, forcing the anger to fall from his face. He was far past simple emotion. Resolve had planted and Anton fully intended to see it through. He acted quickly. If she had a moment to react, it would be long enough. In a well-learned grab and draw, Anton reached into the inner pocked of his jacket, grasped the blade and flicked the butterfly handle open. Without a single hesitation, he turned towards Morana and plunged it into her heart.

She didn't scream. Her eyes flew to his and she chuckled. Then she wheezed a laugh. "You stupid man. You stupid, foolish, self-indulgent man." She struggled to make her voice strong, volume lost to the way her breath failed. "You think you're so smart but you don't realize that you can't do this without me. You can't pull this off on your own."