I coughed up a fresh wave of blood as I faded in and out of consciousness. The metallic taste was now perpetual. Blood trickled down my arms, wrists burnt raw from the thick rope suspending me. Both of my eyes were swelling shut, my skin was split open and severely bruised in several places, and I sported a collection of broken bones.
I had no idea how long it had been since Valentine had taken me. I had been brought straight down into the cold, damp cell and hadn't seen the light of day since. I also hadn't seen Jace and Valentine only occasionally joined his followers - my main assailants, coming down with them to grant me the pleasure of his company and twice the brutality.
I had no idea why he'd taken me; he hadn't asked any questions or made me to do anything. I was simply his torture toy.
My only glimmer of hope came from flickers of the bond Alec and I shared. I could feel him, barely, but it was there. I saw flashes of what he saw, heard echoes of what he heard, and felt shivers of what he felt.
I worked out very quickly that it was only one way, and that that was because I was being held over water.
The door slammed open and I heard multiple pairs of feet, slapping against the grimy wet floor.
Before I could even muster the energy to lift my head and see who it was, a fist connected with my mouth. Then my stomach, then my cheek. As my nose was struck, my head snapped back and I groaned. Boiling water was thrown over me, scalding my already blistering skin. Screaming in agony, but too weak to move, I was forced to endure the torture.
"Ah, Samara," Valentine stepped out of the shadows and into my hazy view. "You've lasted much longer than any Shadowhunter should have."
He walked to stand right in front of me and I spat blood at him angrily. "Is that why I'm here? So you can see how long you can go at me before I die?" My throat was raw and my voice cracked.
"Come now Samara, you think so poorly of me," I mocked, "Surely you've worked it out by now?" He was met with my silence in confusion. He sighed and traced a rune on his wrist and placing his hand on my face. I flinched at first, expecting a blow but was suddenly locked in a trance.
Images of my pregnant mother flooded my mind. She was asleep as Valentine approached her. I saw a flash of thick blue liquid in a vile, drawn out by a syringe. Valentine injected the fluid deep into my mothers round stomach with a sadistic grin plastered across his young face.
I gasped as I was thrown back into the present and Valentine let go of me. "You- you experimented on me?"
"I made you stronger, faster - more lethal than any other Shadowhunter," He corrected.
"How could you? Why?" I croaked.
"To create the perfect weapon, the ideal marriage of good and evil," He told me, smirking, "A Shadowhunter with pure demon blood."
I didn't want to believe it. I took a few deep breaths, "What kind of a father experiments on his children with straight demon blood?"
"A father with perspective," He snapped. He started pacing in front of me, continuing his defence, "We both want the same thing; to save this world from demons. The Clave has grown soft protecting Downworlders with the Accords. All Downworlders, one day, will give in to their violent tendencies - it's unavoidable. Even a single drop of demon blood running in your veins, makes you a threat to humanity."
"You're wrong," I choked, "I know plenty of Downworlders who play by the rules. They control their urges."
Valentine raised an eyebrow at me. "You're thinking of Lucian Graymark, warlocks like Magnus Bane, and even Clarissa's little vampire friend Simon?" He sneered, "No matter how good they try to be, Downworlders cannot control their demonic blood forever."
