BLOOD AND BONE | rewritten

2

There was no way to be sure how much time had passed before Delphinium awoke, or how she gained consciousness so suddenly. All she knew was complete darkness and a cold that made her feel as if she'd never know warmth again.

She ran through the events of...how long had it been? Hours, possibly days since she'd been kidnapped from her grandmother's house. No one had checked on her since she'd been in the dark. At least, no one that Delphinium could recall.

Someone had taken a great deal of time chaining her to the metal chair that was now bringing about an ache in her lower back. Delphinium's hands were angled behind her back and bound together so tightly she failed to move a single finger, while the cuffs around each ankle were connected to the chair's legs. She sensed the room was bathed in complete darkness. Of course, she couldn't be positive, because the bag was still impeding her vision-and preventing her power from being dispelled.

Delphinium sat there without moving for so long she nearly grew bored, cursing herself intermittently for allowing herself to be captured. Ever since she returned to Laguna, she feared this day would come. Yet it did not help her stomach the fact that it actually had.

For as long as they'd been pushed on her, Delphinium despised her skill in violence. The way her go-to weaponless kill was getting a man down, digging her fingers into his eye sockets for handholds, and snapping his neck against her knee. That she knew from experience that cutting into a victim's back and beginning to expose the lungs between cut-out strips of muscle between the ribs was the most excruciating manner of torture. Still, some dark part of her relied on them, needed them to feel safe. And they had failed her when she needed them most. There was no point in having knowledge she resented if it did nothing to serve her.

She had to hide a shiver when the door suddenly swung open somewhere behind her. From the sound, it seemed thick and heavy. Like the door of a submarine, made to withstand immense pressure.

Delphinium made herself perfectly still. If they knew she was awake, they would demand things from her-answers, secrets, blood.

"Delphinium Tesla."

That was a single male voice delivering her true name, none of the monikers she'd taken as safety precautions. They knew who she really was. That led to other questions, primarily dealing with exactly how much of her misdeeds they were aware of. Perhaps that was what this was. Revenge for some wrong that had gotten lost in a sea of them. All alike. All haunting.

There was a scrape of metal on concrete. The man pulled up a chair near Delphinium, but still lingered over her. She didn't dare move a muscle.

"You speak Riengan," he told her as if she'd tried to convince him otherwise. "Though I do know how fluent you are in eastern languages." It was a hint to her past self, telling her he knew without explicitly saying it.