Unhidden (The Gatekeeper Chronicles Book 1) (24 page)

I didn’t know how to feel about Benjamin’s involvement. I was grateful he had stepped in on my behalf to try to free me, but he had always told me he didn’t know anything about my history. He had been lying to me for years, even failing to mention the other day that he had known about me from the start. Had he befriended me only to monitor me for the government? Was he reporting my every move back to them? Would he really betray me like that? I had trusted him, though I guessed that had been the whole point, hadn’t it? The betrayal felt like a knife in my gut. I blinked back tears.

“Oh, don’t take it too hard,” Connor said with mock sympathy. “I have long suspected Ben was protecting you and not being forthright with the information he had promised to provide, which is why you are here today. Ben has clearly failed to draw anything useful out of you. Ten years has been more than enough time. Now I am taking over this project, and I have no intention of coddling you into submission.”

Many people would have preferred the approach Benjamin Hayes had taken—building trust through friendship. However, for some reason, I understood Connor’s approach better and felt like I knew what I was getting with him. I could trust Connor to always betray me because his loyalties lay with something greater than me. When putting me against his country, I would lose every time, and I was okay with that.

Even as my friendship with Ben had grown, I had never understood him. I couldn’t comprehend that his interests might be for my well-being. Maybe that was why I had never opened up to him. Maybe that was why I had joined the military, to be with people whose motivations and methods I could understand.

“As it happens, I don’t respond to being coddled,” I said. “I am also former military and have as much loyalty to this country as you do. I have no intention of seeing it threatened by those creatures, but I can’t tell you what I don’t know. How do you propose recovering my memories?”

“Emma, Emma, Emma,” Connor said, shaking his head. “You have already proven to me time and again that you are quite formidable. You have resisted Ben’s efforts at gaining your trust for ten years; you escaped my Black Ops soldiers … twice; you allied yourself with non-humans; and you made your way into this facility. A few pretty words from you will not be enough to make me believe them. However, you raise an excellent question. How am I to recover your memories and your abilities with them?” He paced toward me like a tiger stalking its prey. “We have already established that kindness doesn’t work.”

When he got within arm’s reach of me, I knew I was in trouble. I recognized that look in his eyes. I had seen it many times in the eyes of psychopaths around the world who claimed to be fighting for a greater cause yet were really only looking for a legal way of indulging in their fetish for causing others pain.

Connor reached out with a single finger and jabbed it directly into the bullet hole in my shoulder, digging and twisting until I let out a scream that must have been heard across the island. Tears streamed from my eyes and blood flowed freely in rivulets down my arm.

“Perhaps pain will unlock those gates in your brain,” Connor said with a little too much pleasure.

I didn’t have a snappy comeback. It was all I could do to keep breathing and try to remember my training. I had been trained not to reveal secrets under torture. In this case, keeping my mouth shut was easy because I didn’t have the answers he wanted. However, I needed to rely on that training to get me through this alive or at least until Alex came with the cavalry. I had to believe he would come for me, but that small voice in the deep recesses of my brain kept asking why Alex would save me when he knew where Sharur was and didn’t need me anymore.

C
onnor did eventually send someone up to my room to provide medical care, which consisted of IV antibiotics so I wouldn’t die of infection yet did not go so far as to remove the bullet or stitch up the wound.

Every once in a while, Connor had me unchained from the floor, only to connect my chains to hooks in the ceiling. After all, dangling me by my wrists was much more painful than allowing me to stay seated with my arms resting at my sides.

When he got particularly frustrated at my lack of cooperation, he enjoyed using me as a punching bag, but most often, he resorted to psychological techniques, helped along by water boarding, electrical shock treatments, and drugs.

In the darkened room, I had no idea how much time had gone by, though it felt like forever. I hadn’t stopped holding out hope that Alex would come for me—not because I believed in him, but because of the power hope played in keeping people alive. Hope was the strongest weapon I had right now, even if it was misplaced. While Connor was playing mind games with me, I was playing them with myself.

“Emma, you know I don’t want to do this to you,” Connor said one day while paying me an unwelcome visit. He was dressed in his usual cheap business suit, this one navy blue with pinstripes, a white shirt opened at the neck, and no tie.

It must be casual Friday
, I mused absently. I was sure his own comfort was of the utmost importance to him while engaging in a fun torture session.

“Actually, I’m guessing you’ve been looking forward to this all day,” I managed to croak through my parched throat.

The corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, which told me I had been right. He struck me as a sadistic psychopath, hired by the government to do things normal people were uncomfortable with, like work with politicians and torture young women.

At that point, the door opened and a soldier wheeled in a medical cart draped with a white cloth. He placed it in front of me and left, locking the door behind him.

Connor removed the cloth with a flourish, as if he was doing a magic trick. I wasn’t surprised to see a number of stainless steel surgical instruments lying on the cart: a scalpel, bone saw, scissors, staples, syringes. Normally, I would dismiss the theatrics as mind games 101, but given what I had seen in the basement, I had no doubt these instruments had been used many times before for procedures that might or might not have involved anesthesia.

I expected Connor to go for the scalpel first. He could use it to inflict as much or as little damage as he wanted, and if handled correctly, it could cause fairly significant pain while not being life-threatening. Instead, he went for a syringe that was as large as a fat cigar with a needle about three inches long. The clear vial was filled with a yellow liquid. He placed his fingers on the plunger and held it up to me so I could get a good look.

“Normally, I would prefer starting with the instruments first. I find they are a good way to soften up my guests, making them more … cooperative. The drugs just give them that last nudge before they pour their guts out for me, both literally and figuratively.” He actually giggled, amused by his own joke. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of time, so we’ll skip the pleasantries and go right for the injection.”

“What is it? It doesn’t look like sodium pentothal.”

“Hah. Truth serum is child’s play compared to this. No, this beauty was synthesized from the toxin of the Lindworm, one of those marvelous creatures from your home world. It causes strong hallucinations, and you’ll do anything to stop them, including telling me what I want to know.”

“But I don’t know anything. I would tell you if I did.”

“Perhaps, but I am also hoping this serum will open up your mind and let something useful out. Now, let’s get started, shall we?” He took a step closer and squeezed out a golden drop, tapping the side of the vial to ensure there were no air bubbles.

“Why? What’s the hurry?”

“Didn’t you know?” he mocked. “We scheduled a war, and I don’t want to be late to the party.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

He placed the syringe to my neck, and I struggled in vain to pull away from it. Then, with a gleeful giggle, he stabbed it into the side of my neck. Searing flames burned their way through my jugular as he depressed the plunger. I instantly clenched my teeth, trying to hold back a scream, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. It felt like the syringe would never empty and the fire pumping through my blood would never abate. After an interminable amount of time, Connor finally pulled the needle from my neck, and I slumped forward in my chair.

He leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Too bad you weren’t invited to the party.” He stood, and all I could do was watch his shoes as he paced in front of me, unable to lift my head. “It should be quite a sight, all of those creatures pouring through the rift and right into our trap. They’ll leave the way open for us to go through to their side. I wish you could tell me what it’s like there,” he said wistfully. “But I’ll find out on my own soon enough.”

“When is that?” I asked, struggling to stay focused on his words, fighting the growing disorientation.

“Only one short week from now, under the full moon. And you are going to help make it all possible.”

“How …?” I tried speaking, but my tongue was too thick, and I couldn’t get the words past it. I felt drunk. My brain was coated in fog and the room spun, but I didn’t care, and it felt good not to care anymore.

“How are you going to help me start a war?” he completed the question for me. “To be honest, I’m not even convinced that useless battle axe is anything more than a souvenir from the Renaissance Fair, but my bosses are convinced it’s the key to opening the door between our worlds. So, my dear, I need you to tell me how it works.”

I just shook my head. There was no way he would get the answers, because I didn’t have a clue myself. Would he kill me if I couldn’t give him the information, or would he need to keep me alive just in case they wanted to keep trying? I knew I should be worried or scared; however, I didn’t feel much of anything right then.

Connor placed the now empty syringe back on the tray and picked up something else I couldn’t see. He gently pushed my hair behind my ears and placed sticky pads at my temples. I was able to lift my head an inch, only enough to see that wires led from my temples to a black electrical box sitting on the cart.

“This is good for you, Emma. I know you want to uncover those memories buried in your mind as much as we do. I am just helping you to do that, but I need you to meet me halfway. Now, what can you tell me about the axe?”

“N…nothing. I swear…” It was difficult to speak, as if my brain didn’t agree with my words.

“Are you sure about that, Emma? I think you know more than you are letting on. Fighting the drug will only end up hurting you. Just tell me the truth.”

I shook my head, silently denying any knowledge. Then my own voice reached my ears. I hadn’t even realized I had spoken. “Amulet,” I croaked.

Connor’s eyes trailed down my neck to my breasts, and a wolfish smile spread across face. He reached into my shirt, his hand purposefully lingering on my bare skin, before removing the amulet from around my neck. “And what does this beauty do exactly,” he asked, inspecting the gem as I had done so many times before. It didn’t reveal its secrets to him any more than it had to me.

“I don’t know, and that’s the truth,” I responded. I may not have known the purpose of the amulet, but I was still terrified that it had fallen into the hands of the government.

He scrutinized my face carefully before nodding. “I believe you, but maybe there is something hidden in your past that will shed some light on this mystery. Let’s start easy. What is your earliest memory?”

I did try; I really did. Connor was right; I wanted to uncover those memories, even if I had no intention of revealing them to him. I was almost a willing participant in the torture, thinking it held the possibility of unlocking my brain. Even so, nothing would come. Every once in a while, I felt like I was on the verge of a breakthrough. Flashes of memories would pass across my vision, but then they would disappear as quickly as they had come.

“I remember my foster father … I stopped him from hurting Daniel once …”

“Before that, Emma. I need you to go back farther,” Connor said in frustration. I knew that tone of voice. It meant bad things were in store for me.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried even harder to remember. “I see a man … with black hair. He looks angry. He’s yelling at me. He’s going to burn me.” I flinched away from the memory and it changed. “Zane. He’s smiling. He looks happy. He’s teaching me … something. I’m having trouble understanding it. I argue with him and storm away.” The image faded, replaced by a new one. This one I wasn’t about to describe aloud.

It was Zane again, but this time, he was naked and underneath me. We were in an empty field under a red tree with nothing under us except soft grass. I was straddling him, moving slowly, reveling in every sensation: the feel of him inside of me, the look of ecstasy on his handsome face, the smell of sweat and sex mingling with the sweet scent of grass. Passion, desire, and possession flooded my body, overwhelming me. I heard myself let out a moan as my head fell back.

“What do you see?” Connor demanded, unable to tell if what I was experiencing was pleasure or pain. In actuality, it was a little of both.