Damnable Grace
Page 8

“I miss you too, Sapphira. So much. So much that at times I cannot breathe.”
“I wish to come back to you,” she pleaded, and held on to me tighter.
“It is not safe,” I said, crying. “Where I am is not safe for you.”
“I know,” she relented, but she did not move from my embrace. She wanted to stay with me, I could feel it in my soul. My heart soared. I wanted her to stay too.
I opened my eyes, smiling, happier than I ever dreamed I could be, but then the forest began to fade. The trees began to disappear into blackness, the sun dipping behind a too-near horizon. I tried to grip on to Sapphira tighter, but I began to lose the feel of her in my arms. Her body shimmered before me, turning into vapor. I blinked, to try and see her just once more, to kiss her cheek and tell her I loved her. But then I was falling, falling until I hit something hard, so hard it robbed me of my breath. I cried out, arms outstretched, trying to climb back into the forest, but the darkness began to lighten, then cleared to show me the inside of a small room.
I was back in my bed, chained, with my arms stretched high in the air. “No,” I whispered, devastation ripping through me. “No!” I cried again, curling on my side to try and bring back the light.
I wanted to go back into the light.
I needed more potion to help me return.
Then I heard him breathe.
Tears fell like waves down my cheeks as my euphoric high came crashing down into utter despair. Meister’s hand reached out and smoothed away the wetness from my cheeks. “Liebchen . . .” he murmured. When I looked to him—because I knew that I must—he had removed his shirt to reveal the huge black tattoo emblazoned in the center of his chest. The symbol that he had replicated on many other parts of his pale skin, the symbol that hung on large red, white and black flags around the room.
“You dreamed of her again?” he said softly, bringing his face closer to mine. The potion was fading, and I felt a deep hollowness in my stomach, in my heart. I opened my mouth to beg him for more. I wanted more of the potion. But before I could, Meister’s eyes clouded with darkness. “Answer me!” he ordered.
The hand that only a few seconds ago had been so gentle on my cheeks suddenly became cruel as he gripped my jaw and glared at me with menace in his eyes.
“Yes,” I said, pushing the words through my constricted throat. “I dreamed of her.”
He relaxed his grip. “Funny how the heroin makes you talk in your dreams, as if you are seeing everything in real life.” His head tilted to the side. “The way you cry for her. Want her in your arms.” Then he dealt his final insult. “But you didn’t fight for her, did you? You lost her, and now she’s gone forever.” He tapped my head. “Only in here does she need you. Because you failed her.” He tutted his disapproval. “You were a terrible, terrible protector. A horrible sister.”
His grip tightened again on my jaw, so tight that I cried out, terrified my bones would shatter under his great strength. He bared his teeth and hissed, “And Grace was there again too? The pretty little one you hid from me.” His nose slid against mine, seductively, affectionately, until his mouth touched my ear. “She would have made me a fuck-ton of money, but you let her go. You took her from me.” He released me and I gasped in relief.
His hand threaded through my hair. “But I got to keep you.” He smiled, a cruel and wicked smile. “And I won’t be letting you go. I love you. You know that, don’t you? My little red-haired whore.”
He reached for my wrist when I did not answer, so I quickly said, “Yes. I . . . I love you too, Meister.”
Meister pulled back his arm and nodded approvingly. “And because of that, you’ve earned yourself a shower.” Meister unchained me and helped me from my bed. I glanced down at my naked body as I unsteadily got to my feet. I could see my hipbones. I could see my ribs.
When I had gained my balance, Meister led me to the shower room. I wanted to cry with every step, it hurt so much. I had not been showered in days. My limbs were unused to movement. But more than that, with every step I took, I saw my dream of Sapphira drifting farther and farther away from me. And I heard the echo of Meister’s voice . . . you failed . . . you were a terrible, terrible protector . . . a horrible sister . . .
Because it was true.
I had failed her.
Everything had been for nothing.
My life had been for nothing.
Nothing . . .
. . . all I had left in the world.
*****
I let the water fall over my head. My palms were flat to the wall as the steady stream washed away the blood and grime of the last few days. My wrist ached from the harshness of the metallic handcuff, and my new needle marks throbbed as the hot water pounded the holes in my flesh.
I inhaled the billowing steam, praying it would clear my head. But it was no use. My ever-busy mind never rested. It was never at peace. The only times I had any kind of reprieve were when Meister’s potion would puncture my vein and enter my blood.
“Get out,” Meister ordered from beside me. He never left me alone unless I was chained to the bed. Whenever I was freed from my shackles, I was with him. And he watched me. Studied me . . . craved me.
I saw it in his eyes.
It had been that way since Judah gave me to him at New Zion, a sacred gift. The female Judah knew would please Meister beyond measure. And it had worked. I had seduced him, made him crave my touch.
Only now, it was worse. He could not give me up.
I was the air to his lungs and the very beat to his heart.
I was his ultimate obsession.
Meister walked to a nearby set of drawers as I tried to dry myself. When I heard the drawer open, the first morsel of hope I had felt in days blossomed in my chest.
When Meister turned around, holding a white dress in his hands, I had to stop myself from sobbing in happiness. He only ever dressed me when he took me outside. I almost dropped to my knees in yearning at just the thought of feeling the warm sun kiss my face and the fresh air inflate my heavy lungs.
Meister approached me, his nostrils flaring as he drank in my naked body. He took the towel from me, knocking it to the floor. I bowed my head as he stopped before me. I managed to keep completely still, perfectly obedient, as his finger landed on my breast and circled the skin around my nipple.
I let him. I would always let him. I knew the consequences of any act of defiance. It had taken me a full week to recover from my punishment when the devil’s men had invaded New Zion. Meister had found me hiding, but without Grace. I had let him down.