All Your Fault

Chapter Twenty

Minutes faded into hours, hours into days, before exhaustion threatened my sanity, hunger gnawed at my belly, and my thirst was so great that not even tears could be produced to lick from my lips.  Every shift was agony on my joints; my cuts throbbed with infection, the urge to give up loomed closer with every setting sun.  Dreams of Dorian plagued my sleep, the toothpick he rolled between his teeth, his canvas of inked skin, shaggy hair, and penetrating eyes.  I surprisingly found myself missing his quick temper and angry words; I would have given anything to have him screaming at me.

In one final attempt I yanked feebly against my bonds, groaning in pain as the cuts on my wrists open and bled, the scarlet liquid adhering the dirt to my skin, my wrist slipped and my eyes flew open towards them.  I shifted my wrist and manacle slipped off, joy pierced through me and I hastily pulled the other off; but in my quick respite of joy I had forgotten I was manacled off the ground before my shoulder connected with the concrete floor.  Floods of pain raged over me in waves, I grit my teeth and rubbed the blood on my ankles, loosening and pulling them off.  I collapsed against the pain, curling inwards in the fetal position, hugging my injured wrists to my chest; finally blacking out.

My dream was a haze, the smell of mint and something else swirled around me, a gruff voice softly whispering a Russian lullaby, his voice a deep hum.  Relaxation seeped into my tortured body, releasing the tense muscles and pounding headache. “Dorian” I whimpered, reaching towards the hum, the ghost of a hand smoothed across my forehead and into my hair. I sighed, the final echoes of pain trickling out of my body. 

I woke with a gasp, biting back a scream as my body bowed off the bed.  “Kalem! She’s awake, hurry!” I girls voice broke through. 

My eyes flew open my arms up to defend against any attack, “no stop, no more!” I cried out.

“Hush now, no one’s going to hurt you.” The girl’s voice again, I turned my head wildly searching out the voice.  A young girl, around the age of thirteen, walked towards me, a wet clothe in her hand.  Her long blond hair was plaited into a braid that hung over her shoulder, an odd-looking dress hung from her shoulders in a pale blue, speckled with blood. I had a sickening feeling it was my blood.  I looked down at myself and jerked, grabbing the sheet to cover up.

“Why am I naked?” I snapped anger replacing the fear, anger laced with panic at not remembering how I had gotten into that state.   The young girl smiled sweetly at me, smoothing down her dress.

“you had many sever injuries that needed attending, clotting of deep lacerations to your skin caused the clothes you were wearing to stick to your skin and had to be cut away for healing treatment to take place.  Three of your ribs were broken, along with four of your fingers, and two toes.  Bruises mark your body, deep purple, with internal bruising as well.  With the help of the other Fey I was able to heal most of your extensive wounds, though scars will remain, I do apologize.”  Her voice was matter of fact, doctor speak I heard my mother use many times before, but my brain tripped up at Fey.

“Fey?” I voiced my thought aloud, eyeing her warily.  She smiled once again, and curtsied, “yes my name is Renaya, and I am a healer. Kalem will be with us shortly.” She sat demurely in the wooden chair next to my bed, her hand crossed on her blood-speckled dress. I swallowed, “Kalem?” I asked yet again, oddly curious.

She nodded, “yes Kalem Lucana, Dragon Prince of this mansion.” She answered. 

I was becoming more and more confused, wishing I was curled up in bed rather than flinching as bruises were pressed. “Mansion?” I asked exasperatedly.

Again an efficient nod, I was learning that Renaya was an tedious and well organized, effective and to the point, “yes this mansion, the Vaile.” I swallowed hard.

“We call it the Vaile, an otherworldly place that plays host to demons, fairies, and other creatures such as those.”

Dorian’s gruff explanation ran rampant through my head, “I see.” I stated mutely, once again turning inward for protection, nothing could have prepared me for this. In any other circumstances, I should be screaming and running, but I feel nothing. I am void of any emotion but that of longing, longing to be back on the first night in that Chevy Camaro, driving way to fast watching the drops of water condense to form an intricate pattern that had no destination. 

The door flew open and a short wiry man strode into the small room, his height may have been short but the presence he exuded expanded throughout the room.  His hair was pale silver that fell over his shoulders, his eyes were liquid amber, the side of his face caught the dim lighting and glittered like jewels.  My mouth dropped open slightly as I realized the side of his face was covered in purple scales that glistened; I quickly snapped my mouth shut as the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement.

“I see you have finally woken up elementalist.” I stiffened, my guard instantly climbing up, my defenses on edge.   Nothing good had yet to come about me being an elementalist and I had no reason to believe that it would start now. A soft wind slapped through the air and the smell of rain filtered through the cracks in the wooden planks lining the walls.  Kalem held his hands palm out in the sign of surrender.

“Calm down Elementalist no one is here to hurt you. I give you my word, and the word of a dragon is law,” he stated sternly.  I shivered, releasing the power I had unconsciously filtered out, soaking in the fear of the realization that I had no control over what I did. That alone terrified me.

‘Dorian’

I paced the room where she had vanished from, my demon raging against the steadily fraying hold I had over my control. The scent of her fear coated the room and acrid scent of death followed, Henry Dubois.  I growled ferally, the demon closer to the surface. My body heated, my muscles tightened.  Where was she?

I threw my head back and roared in anger, grabbing a chair I threw it against the wall; the wooden splinters that pierced my skin were unfelt.  The sight of her bloody pain filled face in my dreams threatened my sanity.  I could feel her pull on me, but I could not locate her, no matter how frantically I tried. The shreds of my reach finally frayed after I had sang her the lullaby and smoothed her hair away from her face, watching in relief as the pain left her body and seeped into mine.

I could feel the torture that had been wrought upon her body and the pain made me thirsty for the blood of her attackers dripping across my skin as my claws tore there pathetic existences to pieces.  Grabbing Kasey and locking her in my lair for the rest of her life, no matter how long that might be, at least she would have been safe from what was happening to her now.

“Mmmr. P-Petrov Salisar is here to see you” a stuttering young boy peaked his shaggy head around the corner; I stared at him, my eyes unfocused anger.

“Send him in” I growled gutturally, my voice no longer holding his human edge.