Aeromancist (SECOND EDITION): Art of Air (7 Forbidden Arts Book 3) Page 24

  He could’ve just as well punched her in the stomach. “You’re not going to let me speak to him, are you?”

  He eyed her with sympathy, which was no doubt false. “No, angel.”

  “Vanessa promised,” she whispered.

  “Oh, he’ll know you’re fine. We’re sending him a five-minute video feed every week.”

  “The cameras?” she asked, glancing at the ceiling.

  He nodded, watching her like a shark assessing his meal. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of going to pieces in front of him. She wouldn’t let him see her pain or anguish.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, a smirk back on his face.

  She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying, but his clever eyes took everything in. He studied her as if she were an interesting science project, which to them, she was.

  His tone was smug. “Was there anything you wanted to ask me?”

  “May I have a watch?”

  He arched an eyebrow.

  “Please,” she added.

  “Of course. And?”

  He was good at reading her. She needed to remember that, and make herself less of an open book. “Can I continue with my studies? The thesis I’m working on—”

  “Has been cancelled.”

  She gasped. “What?”

  “Naturally, we cancelled the scholarship, seeing you don’t need it any longer. We’ve already informed Charles.”

  It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but the news disappointed her. Adam took in her expression with a strange glint in his eyes. The realization came with a shock. He enjoyed hurting her. He was an emotional sadist. Every time he shared a morsel of bad news, he drank in her reaction and enjoyed her pain. The bastard got off on it. The knowledge made her lift her chin.

  A smile spread across his face, his eyes lighting up with knowledge. He knew she was onto him, and he understood the bravery was all act.

  Gripping her chin between his fingers, he said, “Such a brave little girl. Vanessa was wrong about you.”

  His touch alarmed her. She pulled away, trying to look defiant instead of scared. “About what?”

  “You’re not doing this for yourself. You’re doing it for him.”

  Despite her resolution, she couldn’t help the truth from showing. For all her effort to give him nothing but an expressionless slate, her love for Lann was the one thing she couldn’t hide.

  His laugh was low. “I’ve never spent time with a pregnant woman. Everything they say about glowing and radiating beauty is true.” His gaze trailed to her belly. “I’m going to enjoy seeing you grow. Pity he won’t.”

  The knife jabbed into her heart and twisted. He did it again. He lashed her with his words, cutting her soul open, and leaving it bleeding. It was almost too much to bear. Her chest heaved as she tried to bury her feelings, but the tears in her eyes were already a dead giveaway that Adam had won another round.

  “Don’t fight giving expression to your feelings, angel, when you show them so beautifully,” he said softly, the cruel light in his eyes brighter than ever.

  She dragged in a few deep breaths to steady herself, trying desperately to swallow her tears, but one slipped free and ran down her cheek.

  “Your distress does to me what the ecstatic screams of a woman would do to another man,” he continued.

  Suddenly, she understood. Adam couldn’t hurt her physically. They wanted her baby too badly. But he could torture her emotionally, and that was exactly what he was going to do. She’d have to stop letting him get to her.

  “You deserve a reward for that beautiful performance, so I’ll bring you some books,” he said, wiping away the tear.

  She slapped his hand away. She’d rather die of boredom than take anything he offered.

  His smile was triumphant when he left.

  Chapter 18

  “It’s not what it seems,” Clelia said, but Lann wasn’t to be consoled.

  He stared at the static dots on the screen where the video feed had disconnected.

  Joss went to the other side of the library, poured Calvados from the decanter into a glass, and carried it to Lann.

  “Drink,” the commander said.

  The act conjured a painful memory of Lann handing Katherine a scotch after their erotic breath play in the den. He was more than ready to strangle her captors.

  “Clelia’s right,” Joss said, his voice stern. “They’re trying to fuck with your mind. Don’t let them.”

  He downed the alcohol in one shot and stared from the window. The video feed Vanessa had streamed had showed Katherine sitting in a kitchen, drinking tea or a warm drink with another man. He couldn’t see the man’s face, because his back was turned to the camera. He could see Katherine’s, and even if there was no audio, he could see her laughing when her hand went to her belly.

  Your baby kicked for the first time, the subtitle of the feed read. Who had she been sharing the moment with? Who was the man sitting in the chair where he was supposed to be? Who was taking his place?

  “Jealousy is not what Kat needs,” Clelia said. “She wants to be there as little as you want her to be. What’s important is that she’s healthy and doing well. So is Thomas.”

  Lann listened to all their reasonable arguments. It all made sense, but it didn’t change the way he felt. Eve was working on cracking the formula. Eventually, she would. When she did, when he held the cure in his hands, he was going hunting.

  After that first day, it was Gerda who exited from the door in the hallway every afternoon to take Kat to the medical room for an examination and to inject her with the serum. Nicolas was always there, the black book under his arm, but he seemed content to lurk in the background and watch Gerda work. He always looked at her with the pride she’d seen on his face that first day. What role did he play in the bigger scheme of things?

  Gerda never said more than what was necessary. Nicolas seemed wary of the doctor. He never spoke unless Gerda’s back was turned, and then he uttered quick, slurry expressions, such as, “Gshood. Sdon’t worrysh,” always accompanied with reassuring nods.

  Adam had kept his word and brought Kat books and a watch that also showed the date. At least he wasn’t trying to drive her mentally unstable, only to her knees with his constant emotional torture. As much as she tried not to let his jabs affect her, they were hard to ignore. Nicolas had showed small gestures of gentleness toward her. She was wondering if she could turn him into an ally, to find out what they had planned for her after the birth. She needed to work on an escape plan in case they weren’t going to set her free.

  Three weeks into her stay, Kat got her first opportunity to speak to Nicolas alone. He was staring at Kat intently, clutching the black book behind his back, as Gerda ran the usual tests. When she started to prepare the serum, she cursed.

  “Why are we out of needles?” she directed at Nicolas.

  For a second, he seemed not to register her question. He simply looked at Kat like a child considering the overwhelming wonders of an amusement park. Then he turned to Gerda and pulled one shoulder up to his ear.

  “Go get some,” Gerda said.

  Nicolas didn’t move. Maybe he was in a different world somewhere in his head.

  Gerda cursed again. “Watch her,” she said, pushing her thumb on the fingerprint scanner of the door before disappearing down the hallway.

  Kat jumped at the opportunity. “Nicolas,” she said softly.

  At first, he didn’t react. When she repeated his name, he shook his head. “No talshking.”

  She motioned at the vial with the serum. “You’re proud of this.”

  A soft light twinkled in his good eye, but he said nothing.

  “Please talk to me, Nicolas. I’m so lonely in here, all by myself.”

  When she said lonely, his eyebrow twitched. Lonely triggered something in him.

  “I’m very lonely,” she said, letting her emotion show. It wasn’t a lie, after all. “It’ll help me if you just talk t
o me a little.”

  He shook his head. “Dadjy angryish.”

  Daddy? Daddy was angry? Daddy would be angry?

  “No one needs to know,” she said.

  Nicolas glanced up at the cameras. She understood. They were always under surveillance. Gerda came back into the room with a box of syringes. She performed her task wordlessly. Nicolas wasn’t staring at Kat any longer. He was facing the corner of the room, twisting his fingers together. Had she screwed it all up? Was Nicolas even sane? And who was his daddy?

  A month had passed, and Lann had seen all sorts of feeds of Katherine eating lunch, reading a book, and even walking in a garden. What had driven him to the point of insanity was the video clip of her sleeping. By now, he’d concluded, or rather hoped, there were no cameras in her room or bathroom, because he never saw her in that domain, or God forbid, in the privacy of her bathroom undressing. If anyone witnessed that, he’d kill that man. But the clip of her sleeping had been taken with a handheld recorder. Someone had gone into her room, at night, had invaded her privacy while she’d been fast asleep, and filmed her. It had been made to remind him of how vulnerable she was, and it worked. It was a clever message not to try and go after her. It said her wellbeing depended on her captors.

  Whoever held Katherine captive, was mind-fucking him. The team was moving too slowly. Eve wasn’t near cracking the culture code.

  Kat hadn’t seen Adam in two months, but she sometimes had the strange feeling he was watching her, maybe through the cameras. She suppressed the urge to gaze up at them. Pretending they didn’t exist wasn’t easy. She missed Lann so much she cried herself to sleep every night. In her head, she wrote him long letters, telling him of her and Thomas’s slow days and progress. At least she was resting. Margaret made her eat, even if she didn’t want to, and the guards took her outside for exercise every day. It only consisted of an hour-long walk in the garden, but by the time she got back inside, she was relieved. The heat and humidity were exhausting. She had to be in some tropical place.

  It was during a walk outside that Adam appeared.

  “Not happy to see me?” he asked.

  He took her arm to continue the walk, but she pulled away. She was hoping she never had to lay eyes on him again.

  “I haven’t abandoned you, you know,” he said with a casual air. “I have visited you a couple of times.”

  “The cameras?” she asked, feeling anger despite her resolution to remain unaffected.

  “Sometimes.” He gave her a piercing look. “Sometimes I come into your room while you’re sleeping.”

  She stopped dead.

  Satisfaction at her discomfort washed over his face. “I had to. I was making a film for your husband, you see.”

  This time, the lance drove deep into her heart. She knew exactly how Lann would react. It would make him feel helpless, vulnerable.

  “You bastard,” she bit out.

  His hazel eyes filled with glee. “The only pity is that I couldn’t see his face when he watched it. He must be wondering what else is happening in your room at night.”

  As he spoke, her abdomen contracted with a dull ache. A band tightened around her waist, the pressure pulling her muscles to one point in the region of her navel. It doubled her over, not so much with pain as discomfort. It lasted for several seconds, making it impossible to walk. She dragged in long breaths that did little to relax her body. Every muscle tightened like a string.

  Adam took her arm to steady her. She tried to shake off his touch, but she didn’t have enough energy to fight both him and the contraction.

  “Here,” he said. “Lean on me.”

  Hating herself for it, she did. It was either leaning on him or falling to the ground on her knees. Perspiration beaded on her forehead. She was abstractly aware of Adam stroking her hair and making soothing sounds. By now, she couldn’t care what he was doing.

  Slowly, the tightening band gave way until it didn’t feel as if her abdomen was in a vise any longer.

  The experience was draining. Two guards came running up to them. One of the guards took her other arm, but Adam’s cold command stopped him.

  “Get your hands off her.”

  Looking baffled, the guard let her go. Lann had said that to Richardson once, and the memory filled her with longing for her husband.

  “Come on, angel,” Adam said, lifting her into his arms. “Let’s get you back inside.”

  Inside, once they were out of the guards’ view, he acted aloof. He carried her to her bedroom, deposited her on the bed, and left without a word.

  A short while later, Gerda and Nicolas appeared in her door. While Gerda did a quick check-up, Adam stood in the corner with a stoic face and his arms crossed over his chest.

  “I’m fine,” Kat protested.

  “Braxton Hicks,” Gerda said to Adam.

  Nicolas was scanning the books on the table. Adam hadn’t asked her what she wanted to read. He’d brought all her favorite classics, as well as some of the daemon verses of which she was fond. They had to have studied her for a long time to know such intimate details as her reading preferences.

  Adam straightened. “Go,” he said to Gerda. When she left with Nicolas, he approached Kat. “I’m proud of you. The footage will make a fine videoclip for your man.”

  This time, Kat cried openly. She didn’t care anymore that Adam exploited her weakness and witnessed it. She wanted Lann. She was scared and she needed him.

  Adam sat down next to her on the bed. He watched as she cried until she had no more tears left. When her eyes were dry, he got to his feet.

  “That was a beautiful performance,” he said. “So much agony.” He wiped the wet streaks from her cheeks with his thumbs. “I can’t wait for the birth.”

  From the almost breathless way he said it, she believed him. Jerking her face away, she escaped his touch. She held her breath, and only exhaled when he left the room.

  “If you carry on breaking things, I’ll forbid you to watch those fucking feeds,” Joss said.

  Lann’s commander assessed him with his silver gaze. He made an effort to calm himself, staring at the fireplace in which he’d broken another glass. The hearth was cold, empty of fire, since it was summer.

  A season had passed.

  A season without her.

  He wiped his hands over his face. “How would you react, Joss, if you were in my shoes?”

  Joss didn’t reply. Joss was a possessive bastard and they both knew it. He’d have felt the same if Clelia was in Katherine’s place. Katherine had been walking through the garden, her belly beautifully big now, when her first contraction had hit. It was that bastard who’d picked her up in his arms and carried her inside.

  “Hold onto your reason,” Joss said. “It’s only a game. They want you to go after her to have reason to kill you. For all we know, they’re setting a trap.”

  Lann lifted his face to the sky. “I can’t take it, Joss. I can’t do this.”

  Joss’s voice was commanding. “Yes, you can, and you will. There are only three more months left.”

  Kat woke with a start in the dark. There was someone in her room. She couldn’t see or hear him, but she could feel him. She shot upright in the bed, her heart thumping in her chest.

  “Shh,” a voice said urgently, frightened, as if breaking on a cry.

  A figure moved into the moonlight that spilled through the window. Nicolas. A mixture of fear and relief tightened her throat. What was he doing there? She clutched the sheet to her breasts, not taking her eyes off him as she tried to guess his motive for coming into her bedroom in the middle of the night.

  Nicolas’s lips tilted in one corner. He lifted his hand in a reassuring gesture. “Nicolasjh not hurtjs. Nicolasjh lonelyjs.”

  Her heart still beat in her throat, but she relaxed marginally. She regarded him quietly, waiting for his next move. She didn’t want to do something to frighten him or endanger herself. He moved to the table with the books. Reaching out, he touched a
spine tentatively before quickly gazing back at her.

  She understood. “It’s all right. You can touch them.”

  He removed a classic edition of Frankenstein and traced the title on the spine. “Daddyjs not givjs booksch. No booksch. Nicolasjh worksj.”

  She swung her legs off the bed. “Do you know that story?”

  “Mommyjs. Mommyjs readsh to Nicolasjh.” His good eye watered up. “Mommyjs deadjs.”

  Kat moved to his side, one small step at a time. “I’m so sorry. What was her name?”

  “Elvirajs. Elvirajs.” Nicolas started rocking himself. “Elvirajs.”

  Had she pushed him too far? She sat down in the chair and held her hand out for the book. “Would you like me to read to you?”

  Nicolas clutched the book to his chest. “Nicolasjh takesj.”

  He wanted the book. “You can have it.” She smiled. “Would you like me to read you a chapter before you take it home with you?”

  He looked at her for some time, and then his eye lit up. “Katsj readsch.” He sat down on the floor by her feet, and handed her the book.

  She switched on the lamp on the nightstand and turned to the first chapter. Her heart still beat fast as she started reading. As she turned the page, Nicolas rested his head on her knee. She continued to read for hours. By the time dawn broke, her throat was dry and she was halfway into the book.

  She shut the book and touched Nicolas’s shoulder. “It’ll be day soon.”

  He looked at the window.

  “Here.” She gave him the book. “The cameras…”

  Nicolas gave her a half-grin. “No camerash. Nicolasjh knowsh.”

  “You can come back tomorrow,” she said, “and I’ll read you some more.”

  “Nicolasjh comech backsj,” he said, scurrying to his feet.

  “Thank you for visiting,” she said, praying for forgiveness for playing Adam’s manipulation games. “I was lonely.”

  “Katsh lonelyjs.”

  “Don’t tell anyone,” she said.