The Legend of the Eight: The Wicked (Book 2)

19: Eva

NINETEEN: EVA
MARCH 27
KATE DIAMOND

"I DON'T KNOW WHERE SHE is, I swear!"

Kate fell forward and sobbed, held up solely by the leather strap across her chest, keeping her tied to the chair. Ropes held her wrists and ankles in place, cutting into her skin whenever she moved.

"Bartemius needs all of you to do the spell." sneered the Dark who had been torturing her in unspeakable ways. "So you're not going anywhere until you tell me where she is. Now. I'm going to ask you again. Where. Is. Your. Sister?"

A green light began glowing in the center of his palm as a new curse started to build when suddenly, the door flung open and the spell stopped, retreating back into his hand.

"Take her back to the cell," a man in the doorway said, a thick Scottish accent lacing his words.

"But I haven't finished with her yet," the Dark in front of Kate whined with disappointment. "Bartie said we could have fun with them!"

"Yeah? Well Jeremiah says the girl's here," said the Dark at the door. "She wandered in here with his boy a little bit ago. Looks like they were trying to break the others free." Then he chuckled. "J's holding onto 'em while Bartemius preps the transfer. Shouldn't be long now."

"Wil's here?" Kate asked weakly and then began tugging on her restraints, ignoring the sting of her skin when she did. "Let me—Let me go! Wil!" Her yell was more like a croak and wasn't nearly loud enough to reach anyone—much less her sister. "Wil get out of here! Wil!"

"Hush up!" the Dark responsible for torturing Kate said and then drew his hand across her face. She tasted blood. He turned to the other Dark and asked, "You tell Bernadette?"

The second Dark shook his head. "Jeremiah said not to."

"Take her back to the others," the first Dark said about Kate and then began walking out of the room.

"Where are you going?"

"In matters where Bernadette is involved, I don't particularly enjoy pissing her off. Get her back to the cell. I'm going to tell Bernadette that the girl is here. Might just guarantee I get to walk away alive when all of this shit is over."

KATE TRACED A FINGER OVER the blisters beginning to form on her arm from the flame that had been held there hours ago. The Dark torturing her thought fire would be a good way to get answers out of her.

Answers about Wil. Answers about the Eight. Answers that even if she knew, she wouldn't have given him.

Her fingers worked their way up to her arms to her shoulders and then when they reached her neck, she stopped. There were two very distinct puncture wounds and there was a line of dried blood trailing from them. She shuddered as she tried remembering what caused the marks.

She was back in the cell with the others who were each as broken and beaten as her. Some bled from their wounds while others ached from unspoken tortures. Kate didn't remember most of what happened to her when she was in that room but what she did remember came in bits and pieces. She was too exhausted to put them together.

She could see the chair which she was strapped to and the man with the haunting face who asked her questions. When she failed to answer them, he harmed her in one inhumane way or another. She remembered Cam being there too but that was a figment of her imagination. Some kind of hallucination brought on psychotic break. Cam was dead. The missing knot in her tattoo confirmed it.