lightning witch 02 - lightning legacy (3 page)

There was a knock at the door.

“If you’re not Publisher’s Clearing House, you can go fuck yourself.” Okay, I know I wasn’t being very nice. I’d run out of fucks to give.

I heard Mark’s low grumble of distaste.
Ah yes, I guess he got the short straw today.
I heard the sixty-seven locks click open and the chains fall away. I might have tried to leave this cell a few times, hence the Shawshank-style confinement.

“If you could be nice just once, Delaney, that would be great.”

Mark’s dull, monotone voice oozed over my skin. The guy really gave me the willies. He had his back to me as he pushed into the room, pulling a cart with what I knew would be my lunch.

“Oh, well, Mark, then I wouldn’t have near as much fun!” I quipped back at him. “Did your master let you off your leash? Were you a good boy? Did you kneel at his feet and suck his…”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” he snarled, whirling to face me. His plump, craggy face was red. Though he was short and slightly round, he was not altogether displeasing.

Mark was Mitch’s third in the pack. He nearly tripped over Mitch’s heels, he clung so tight to his master. That was basically all I knew about him. I smiled at the expression on his face. He was so mad. His little beady eyes were pinched and his mouth was just a small white line that slashed across his face. He was slightly limping. Clearly, he had been hurt yesterday at the pack meeting. Oh, the meeting I couldn’t go to. But there was something more with him. He wasn’t his cocky self. I needed to find out what had happened to knock this man down a peg.

I eyed him as he placed the plates on the edge of the bed. His eyes met mine and held there. Looking at him in the eyes he would see as a challenge, but damn it, he dropped his eyes in submission. I had to clamp down on the urge to go for his neck. I don’t think he even realized the significance of what just happened. My eyes widened, then narrowed.

“Just what happened at the meeting, Mark?” He stiffened at the mention of it.

“I was challenged for third.”

Oh shit.
I didn’t think he would really answer me, he never answered me. None of the wolves did. They were told that they should avoid talking to me and if they ever touched me Mitch would rip them apart. Or at least that’s what I assumed because of their treatment of me. Then again, I’d only come into contact with about ten of them.

“Oh Mark, what happened? Where you hurt?” I tried my best to keep calm and not push him away. I wanted information and if I had to play nice to get it, I would.

“Dillon,” he spat the name as though it were a curse. Then his face twisted into an expression that made me think the name left a bad taste on his tongue. “He challenged me and won. And Mitch did nothing but stand there and watch.”

This was how a pack worked. Mark was really close to Mitch yet he had allowed the challenge to take place.
Dissension in the ranks?

My mouth hung open with shock. Dillon was further down in the pack. He was a tall man, but not ripped. He was toned, more of a runner’s body than that of someone who sculpted his body though. Moreover, he was what I believe to be the definition of a sociopath. He had meal duty once. After he shoved me against a wall, Mitch never let him near me. Mitch and Dillon were very similar, but Dillon hurts creatures just to see them in pain. Had Mitch not been close by, I'm not sure what would have happened.

I shivered at the memory.

I glanced up to see Mark studying me. He clearly had his ass beaten and, damn it, I was not feeling sorry for the creepy bastard. I just wasn’t. Ugh.

I smiled softly at him and said, "He's an asshole, Mark."

Damn it, I was feeling sorry for the greasy, beady-eyed creature.

He eyed me warily. I sighed.

"Look I don't like any of you. Your dick of an alpha killed me and has the man I love locked up somewhere. And not one of you will help me. But, beyond that, Dillon…" I trailed off as I heard something just outside of the room. It passed, but I lowered my tone marginally. “Mark, Dillon is sick in the head. Like he skeeves me out. I'm sorry you lost, but I think you're lucky to still be breathing."

God, why was I being nice to him?

“You’re not always a cunt, are you?” he replied, walking to the door.

"Why Mark, I think that’s the nicest thing you have ever said to me," I said to the closing door.

Mitch’s pack was huge. There were more than thirty members. None of whom were female. I was the only one. Not that I would be here for long, I hoped. I’d only met about ten of the pack members. Mitch would only let the top members of the pack near me because he couldn’t trust the rest of them. I think the reality was that I would be able to overpower them. There was a small part of me that thought the rest of the pack really didn’t know what he was doing to me. I often wondered if they would object to it.

I opened the covered dishes and found a tuna fish wrap and chips. Hey, it was food, right? My mind slid back to what Mark told me about Dillon. I didn't know why this conversation seemed like it could be a way out, but it was possible I could use Mark. I mean if I were actually nice to him, maybe he would leave the door unlocked or give me tidbits of information.

I began to formulate a plan. Ugh, that wouldn't work. If I did get away, Mitch would just come after me. There would be nothing to stop him and he has proven killing people was not above him. I’d only tried to kill Mitch once. The same night I tried to escape.

I couldn't kill him. There seemed to be this invisible force stopping me. That's when he informed me that a wolf couldn’t kill its maker. Along with my night-long punishment, my hopes of getting out on my own were utterly dashed.

I ate my lunch, trying desperately to think of a way to get away. This wasn't the first time I tried to come up with a plan. However, I felt like this was the last chance I would get. Over the months, I tried to connect with the mysterious man in my dreams, but since my turning, he had been missing in action. I guessed I would be on my own with this one. I got up and began to pace the short length of my confined little room. Maybe walking would get my brain going.

Thirty minutes later, nothing. All I could think about was Mark and how pissed he had looked. Okay, so if I did somehow get him to turn on Mitch and help me get out, where would I go? Well, I would have to find Reid. Then what?
Ugh! This is impossible!

I moved the plates off the mattress and placed them by the door. I went to sit on the bed. Cupping my hands, I did the only thing I could: I pulled my lightning from my core. In my cupped hands, there sat a tennis ball-sized ball of lightning. It snapped and popped with arcs of electricity in between my palms. This would be enough to nearly kill a human. But, it merely tickled me. With a good deal of concentration, I pulled the lightning back within me and focused on the storm of power inside of me.

I’d done this a lot over the last months. Since my turning, there had been a great disturbance in the force. Okay yes, I know, a quote from
Star Wars
, but that's how it felt. I felt like the power I held when I was a witch was only a fraction compared to the well of power that was in me now. This amount of power had proven to be difficult to tame. As if one really could tame lightning. I repeated this practice for hours. I barely noticed when Mark returned for the dishes and to drop off my dinner.

He eyed me with caution when he saw what I was doing.

I sighed and said while pulling my power to one hand, tossing the ball of lightning in the air and catching it, “You know, Mark, I really am a nice person. I have been forced into a situation I can do nothing about. And the man I love is gone. Being kept somewhere.” I stopped tossing the ball of lightning and pulled it back into me, feeling it settle deep within my core. I walked over to him and he tensed as though he just knew I would lay his ass out.

“How would you feel, Mark? How would you feel if Mitch had done this to your female?”

I took the plates from him and set them on the edge of the bed and turned to face him. He stood there thinking. And that shocked the hell out of me. He genuinely was thinking about my words.

He met my eyes and just before he looked away he said in a low tone, “I would fight at every turn.”

He turned and walked out. I stood there gaping for the second time today. I now had one week until the new moon when I would be at my weakest, but so would all the other wolves. That would be the best time for me to try anything to get out of here. I had a good feeling about this, this time. Mark was my ticket out of here. Now, I just had to figure out how to make him play ball. I was sick of feeling sorry for myself. I wanted out of this miserable situation. So, I had to get myself out. Then I needed to find Reid. I was not the damsel in this story and I would never be. Time to pull up the big girl panties and save my own ass.

THE DEPRESSION I
feel is so overwhelming, I think it may swallow me whole.

My heart hurt.

Maybe it’s not even a heart anymore, maybe it’s just a huge gaping hole with nothing there.

I’d never been a man who expressed emotion or feelings in an outward manner, but these emotions and pure self-loathing were crippling. I closed my eyes and all I could see was her. Her blood-spattered white dress. Her mangled neck. She’d said, "I love you." And I tried to rage and roar to save her. In the end, all I accomplished was not being able to tell her I loved her back.

Had I done this? Had I set all of these events in motion? Had I not protected her? In the last four months, I’d asked myself these questions over and over again. I always went back and forth on the answers. My mind had started playing tricks on me. I had no idea how long I’d been locked in this cage, but it had started to affect how I saw things. Was she even real? Had she ever touched me? Kissed me? My thoughts and memories began to blur together in some kind of marriage. I often saw her. I saw her silhouette and like always when I saw her, she was out of my reach. And the moment I did find her, her form became insubstantial for it was always non-corporeal.

Seeing her die, then seeing her form and never being able to touch her was maddening. I was losing control of my thoughts and I knew it. God, the dreams. I would wake up from the dreams crazed and murderous. The guards feared me, as they should. That didn’t stop them from taunting me though. I tried to get information from them for four months and had achieved not one bit of it. They wouldn't even tell me if she rose or not.

I’d not seen Mitch since the night he killed Delaney. Even thinking her name and his name in the same thought made me wretch what little bile I had left in my stomach. So, when I caught his scent, it shocked me so hard that the fragile grip I held on the beast that lived inside of me almost slipped. I could smell him, but not her. Then I heard footsteps. Slow, sure footfalls. Then the whistling began. I knew the tune.
Save the Last Dance for Me
by the Drifters. I snarled, partly because I couldn’t help it, but mainly because the song was rather apropos.

The whistling grew louder and more insistent. I began growling so deep in my chest that I could feel the vibrations against my skin. Then I saw him. The bomb detonated at the sight of his smug smile. I charged the silver bars. I did little to them, as I expected. He flinched. The motion was imperceptible, but it was there. I smiled.

“Tisk-tisk-tisk, is that any way to greet me? Gosh, the high and mighty Reid Jamison, how you have fallen."

“What do you want, you glorified piece of shit?” My voice was raw from my constant yelling. I would use every bit of energy I had to not show an ounce of weakness in front of this male.

"Aww, you wound me," he said, clutching the place on his chest where his heart should have been.

“What do you want?” I could hear the resignation in my own voice and it disgusted me.

He smiled with all teeth and said, “My guards tell me you're becoming irate and asking after Delaney. I thought I would bring you a little information.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.
Why would he give me anything? But, I did wonder why he kept me this long and why he had yet to kill me.
Despite my misgivings about anything this man would tell me, my heartbeat kicked into high gear at her name.

“Let’s see … What should I tell you?” He tapped his finger against his lips in mock thought. Then, seeming to have an idea, he pointed that finger up to the sky and said, “Oh, I know! Did you know that when she comes, her whole body vibrates with an electrical current? Every. Inch. Of. Her.”

My vision went completely red and I charged the bars. Because every word he spoke was true, but there was a lie in it. He may know that about her, but I couldn't believe he'd had her. Never. Not like that. Unless he forced her. I had to hold on to that thought or I would grow mad. Then, I saw something white poking out of his suit sleeve. I froze, recognizing it. It looked to be a bandage. I smiled up at him. Then I started laughing in a way that only madmen did. His eyes narrowed this time.