17. Livana

Chapter 17

Livana

A small wooden box slightly bigger than the size of my hand sits opened on our little kitchen table.

Mama never brings out her jewelry, and I glance around, wondering why she left this out here. She takes very good care of her jewelry. Especially her talisman that she never takes off.

So why is this here?

I tiptoe toward it, unable to resist my curiosity as I see the beautiful colored gemstones set among gold rings or bracelets or necklaces, all tucked neatly in their perfect spots inside the box.

Maybe she left this out because my talisman is in there.

I can't resist the thought, not when I've been dreaming of finding my own since she told me the story of how she found hers.

Maybe she just wanted me to see all the beautiful things she's collected over the years.

I lean over the table, my eyes unable to settle on one piece, they're all so beautiful.

I close my eyes and tap into my power, doing my best to listen to it like Mama taught me.

I don't feel anything. Nothing that would say one of these pieces belongs to me, so I open my eyes again and just appreciate them.

I've asked to wear some of these before, but she's never let me.

Still, what could it hurt if I try one on?

I reach for one of the ruby rings ? —

Smack! My hand is batted away so hard it stings, and I cradle it to my chest as I jump back, my heart pounding at the sight of Mama standing over me.

"Ah, silly dearest," she says. "Those aren't yours. You know you shouldn't touch things that aren't yours."

"Yes, Mama," I say, doing my best to hold back the tears from the pain in my hand. It's always worse when I cry. Mama hates it. I think it's because it hurts her too much to see me cry ? —

The sharp, burning sensation in my hand intensifies, jolting me awake.

I blink a few times, my head throbbing at the base of my skull.

"Look who's finally awake," a familiar male voice says.

Reality crashes down on top of me.

Balan, the drifter leader who tried to take me before, grins as he pushes off the wall of what looks like a dilapidated hut. His other men are scattered about the room, their stares leery and smug. Some are sharpening knives, others are picking their teeth, but they all share a victorious air about them.

I suck in a sharp breath, doing my best to take stock of my surroundings. The air is sharp and crisp, tainted by the scent of wet moss and mud.

Fear streaks through me. "You idiots brought me to Tamworth?"

"Is that any way to talk to your captors?" Balan shakes his head as he stomps toward me.

I try to move away, but a thick set of heavy chains rattles, and it's only then that I realize my arms are hanging above my head, chained to a thick beam of wood. I'm on my knees, ankles behind me and shackled to the beam too.

And there's something off about the metal touching my skin. Something that makes my stomach churn, makes my vision wobble.

"Silver," I whisper, and nearly lose the contents of my stomach at the realization that they've wrapped me in the vicious substance.

One of the things that the drifter Academy excels at is making pure, undiluted silver that has only one purpose: harming monsters like me.

No wonder I feel so fucking drained.

Balan laughs, his crew joining in.

"Sorry about the chains, love," he says, looking anything but sorry. "You see, normally I wouldn't jump to such extreme measures, but after your little display the last time we met, you can understand they were necessary."

My eyes dart around the area as he prattles on, noticing the moon is high in the sky, its glow leaking through broken slats in the miserable shack.

A hut in Tamworth.

I should've killed these morons when I had the chance.

I wonder what Zev and Jagger will think when they return to our camp. I'm sure these drifters covered their tracks to make it look like I ran. And knowing Zev, that's exactly what he'll say.

Shit. I'm going to have to try to access my magic, risk bringing the collector core down on us. But my head isn't clear and most of my power is nullified by these damn chains.

"I should've killed you when I had the chance," I manage to croak out. Even speaking takes too much effort. Breathing is hard, but I keep laboring it in as my heart pounds furiously in my chest.

Balan's smile drops, and he backhands me so fast I don't even have time to blink. My cheek bursts with a sharp sting, my vision turning white for a second before clearing.

I spit some blood on the dirty floor, aiming for his boots.

"You got a smart mouth on you," he says, shaking his head as he grips my hair, forcing me to meet his gaze. "I have fun teaching things with smart mouths how to be quiet." He pulls out a small blade, dragging its sharp point through the fabric to my skin. "I normally don't damage my bounties, but you're going to be the exception. I'll just tell the Collector Zev did it."

I can't hold back a cry of pain as the knife digs into the flesh of my stomach, not enough to kill me, but just enough to hurt .

Balan's lips curl into a smile, his breathing excited as he cuts me on the other side. "Oh, come on, love," he says, slicing that blade down my left arm now, from shoulder to the topside of my wrist. "I thought succubi like you loved blade games. Isn't this getting you wet?"

Revulsion ripples over me, his desire hitting my tongue in a disgusting flavor that tells me every single thing about his intent. His eyes are lazy as he looks over me, chained up, my clothes shredding with each cut he makes.

He wets his lips, and my stomach rolls again.

I do my best to draw back, and the chains clatter around me as I slam into the wall behind me.

He laughs, glancing behind him at his buddies.

My fangs punch out painfully as the silver continues to drain me.

"Well, look at that," he says, focusing on me again. "I didn't think you'd be strong enough to show those pretties. Maybe you really do like the pain." He takes a step closer to me again. "I've never had a succubus before." He snaps his fingers, and two of his crew comes stomping over, one of them holding a vial filled with what looks like liquid silver, a sharp needle attached to the top of it.

Oh, fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

"And just so you don't get any ideas about where to put those fangs," Balan continues as the two men hold me down. "I'm going to give you something to make you real nice and quiet."

I struggle against their hold, kicking my legs and arms in an attempt to free myself. My heart skips erratically in my chest, taking off in a rhythm that has my fingers going numb.

Shit, not now.

Tears gather in my eyes, sheer frustration and adrenaline clashing together as I struggle and fight, my eyes widening as that needle moves closer to my skin.

"Stop," I scream. "No!"

They ignore me.

The drifter sticks that needle into my arm, hitting the plunger?—

I scream.

Loud and raw and terrified.

My body seizes, all of my muscles tensing as pure searing fire bursts through me.

My heart stops, then takes off again at a dangerously fast pace. I gasp for air, choking on it as I try and get a full breath. Try to think around the pain as the poisonous silver slips into my bloodstream, making me go entirely limp.

I desperately try to reach my magic, try to dig into the well of power I know is sitting there, but it's underneath so much weight of silver I can't even brush it with my mental fingers.

Fuck. Rage slices my insides, but my scream dies with the lack of control of my body. I can barely breathe as the poison takes hold.

My muscles go limp as I slump in the chains, my bound wrists holding me aloft as my head hangs forward and lulls to the side. A flash of gold on the inside of my arm catches my eye.

What the fuck is happening? Tell me where you are! I can feel you! Tell me!

It takes an enormous amount of strength to look at my captors, relief flowing through me that they're not looking at my arm.

They're arguing in a huddle right next to me.

"Doesn't fucking them make them stronger?" one of Balan's men ask.

"She's pumped full of silver and tied up in silver chains. How much stronger could she possibly get?" another one says.

I'm going to vomit.

I'm going to throw up right here.

I hope they slip in it and break their necks.

I try to write back to Six, desperate enough to tell him where I am. He won't be able to get to me quick enough, but maybe he'll find my body and burn me as a mercy.

I can't get to him. I'm not even sure how he's able to reach me with how weak I am. He must be strong?—

"Do we take turns?" another one of his men ask.

"Will she be as valuable to the Collector if we turn her in all fucked up like this?" a third asks, pointing to me.

My tongue slides over my split lips. My cheeks feel swollen, there definitely seems to be a broken rib on my right side.

"We'll tell him Zev and Jagger did it," Balan reiterates. "As long as she's breathing he won't give a shit. He'll have his Treasure heal her if he wants. He's going to throw her in a cage anyway and only take her out when he wants to play with her."

Fuck me, these are the drifters I've heard stories about. The ones who treat their bounties no better than insects waiting to be crushed.

They don't care that I'm a living, breathing being. They don't fucking care .

Tears trickle down my cheeks, angry and regretful. I shouldn't have taken Jagger and Zev's kindness for granted. Shouldn't have toyed with Zev so much. I should've gone with them to check the snares. At least then I would've ended up where I need to be.

My heart stutters, alternating between fast, erratic paces to slow, heavy thuds. "You're all idiots," I manage to force out the words, still unable to move my limbs. "I'll be dead before you can collect the gold on my bounty."

"We're not going to kill you, love," Balan says. "We're going to take turns having fun with you. Then we'll take you to Lingate?—"

"Too much... silver..." I force out the words, doing my best to keep breathing. Keep talking. If I can get them to take some of the chains off, I might have a chance to fight.

"Nice try," Balan says, shaking his head at me. "But I've taken down succubi before. It takes a lot more silver than that to kill your kind."

"Then the Banachs will get us," I say, reaching for anything I can.

"They won't hear us, because you barely have the strength to talk, let alone scream." He turns and looks at his men, jerking his head toward a ramshackle door in the corner. "Out. I get her first. Then you lot can have her."

I will my arms and legs to move, but they're unresponsive as I hang there, waiting for slaughter.

But he's not about to kill me. No, he's about to do something much worse.

His men exit immediately, and I try to fight, try to scream, but the silver has rendered me utterly fucking useless.

Tell me where you are! Tell me where you are! Gold script flashes on my arm repeatedly.

I try and fail to answer Six again.

Balan flicks the clasp on his belt, the sound filling up the hut like the sharpening of a blade. He tugs down his leathers, and more tears roll down my cheeks, my entire body quivering at what's to come.

"Oh, does the sight of me make you shiver, love?" he taunts as he stalks closer, dragging his tongue up my neck and over my ear.

"Don't," I say, my chest aching as my heart continues to race. My head is growing fuzzy, and I'm not sure how much longer I can remain conscious. I can't decide what will be worse, being awake or not for what's about to happen.

Balan grips my hips, yanking down my trousers to where they bunch around the chains on my ankles.

"Stop," I try to scream the word, but it comes out as a feeble whisper. " Stop."