Taken

Chapter 9 (Part 1)

"What price?" I croaked out, the question barely sounding as a whisper before another ragged cough cut me off.

I clutched at the loose shirt she had provided me, my nails curling in the soft fabric and scratching my chest hard enough to leave red marks through it as a burn formed at its center. I was barely able to draw in another breath as it grew into a searing pain, eliciting more choked coughs that had my shoulders curling and jerking with each one. As they hacked their way out of my throat, the pain between my breasts grew, making me claw at myself in hopes of digging out whatever I had swallowed that had become stuck part way down my esophagus.

In my panic and pain, I didn't notice Hilda draw closer until her whispered words sounded in my ear. "One that will benefit us both, as long as you keep your lips sealed."

She pulled back, placing a silencing finger against her lips as Silas's voice cut across the kitchen.

"You okay?" he asked, making his way over to the island to set down a wooden cutting board with fileted fish that he held. Artemis flew in after him before the door could slam shut, landing on a chair on the opposite side of the table. It was a surprise it didn't topple over under her weight as Silas turned his furrowed eyes toward me as he reached for a towel that was resting over his shoulder to wipe his hands.

"It seems a glass of water is enough to kill your stray with the way she drinks," Hilda remarked with a shake of her head. It hid the look of warning she sent my way from her son.

"Ma, be nice."

She scoffed. "That's rich coming from you. You weren't very nice to Sheria when I brought her over last week. Or Helena the week before. Why should I be nice to your guest?"

"Because I'm not trying to whore you out to my guest."

"Silas!" Hilda gasped in outrage as Artemis made a clicking sound that sounded suspiciously like laughter. "I am your mother. All I want is the best for you. For you to settle down and make a home of your own."

Silas dropped the towel on the counter. "If you recall, I built this home," he retorted, crossing his arms to accentuate the muscles in his forearms that his rolled-up sleeves revealed.

"And with the way things are going, it seems you plan to die in it all alone."

"Sounds like you're trying to get rid of me so you can die alone in it."

"Boy," she said, dragging the word out in warning. "At least my guests don't come with the risk of a death sentence," she glared, as she smoothed down her skirt.

That had his jaw ticking.

"If not this, they would have found another reason to sentence me to it, ruining the happy little family you keep picturing me with. At least this might make it somewhat valid."

His strained words had Hilda deflating, her anger leaving her in a tired sigh. "I won't let that happen, Silas."

"There's only so much you can do, Ma."

"More than you know, son." Her voice held a hard resolve.

Turning with a pinched frown on her lips, her eyes shot toward me in determination before she made her way out of the kitchen, leaving the tension she had created behind.

It softened as Silas realized an exhausted sigh.

"Sorry about that. She's not usually so... hostile." Silas said, his lips pulling down into a frown as he started after his mother.

I cleared my throat, the burn having peaked during their argument before beginning to die down. "I'm guessing it's not every day you bring back an unwanted guest." One that they could be sentenced to death for harboring.