Callie - An Enchantress Novel - Book 1

Chapter 11

Sam sped toward the office, his mind on reaching John before he boarded the ferry, not the speeding tickets that would arrive in the post later in the month. He screeched to a halt and sprinted inside, his movements so fast that no one would see him as anything more than a fleeting shadow. He stopped in front of Gill's desk after briefly checking she was alone.

"I took the liberty of packing an overnight bag for you just in case. It's in the flat." She handed him his ticket and the itinerary for the ferry crossing. "The ship sails in forty-five minutes; they're expecting you as a foot passenger. My source said John has already boarded."

"Gill, you are fantastic," he praised.

"Fantastic enough for that pay rise?"

"I think about it." He laughed, and made his way up to the flat to collect the overnight bag.

The door of the flat stood open a few inches. Sam crept inside expecting an intruder, however, he found nothing amiss and assumed Gill had forgotten to close it behind her. He was in such a hurry, he didn't notice the black van pulling into traffic just behind him. It followed him all the way to the ferry port.

With barely ten minutes to spare, he parked up in the long stay car park and jogged at human speed toward the terminal. When he rounded a corner, he walked straight into the prongs of a tazer. The current made his entire body spasm and jerk as every muscle contracted in total agony. Then everything went blessedly black.

He woke with a start; the sudden movement caused pain to radiate from his shoulder. He screamed involuntarily from the agony of having his hands bound and chained to a wall above his head, his feet barely touching the ground. The room was pitch black.

"Finally, it's about time you came round," said an eager voice to his left.

He swung his head in that direction, feeling the friction of the fabric covering his eyes. They had blindfolded him.

"Glad I could oblige," he croaked out through dry lips. His throat burned.

"My master wishes to know the whereabouts of the human you employ."

"There are twenty," he replied evasively.

"You know which one. Do not make this hard on yourself. You will talk in the end; they all do," said a new voice to his right this time.

"Nope."

Pain erupted in his arm - pain so intense, he lost consciousness again. A splash of icy-cold water brought him round quickly. His captors removed his blindfold and he blinked water from his eyes to look at the one on the left.

"Kill him," he commanded.

Both of them burst out laughing. The one on the left brought a wooden stake into view. He twirled it around his hand with the skill and dexterity of a majorette. After tossing it lightly in the air, he smirked, then caught it and thrust it into Sam's other arm. Sam didn't get the luxury of blacking out this time. He remained mute, however, when the stake was thrust into his stomach. They proceeded with his torture, asking the same question repeatedly. He continued to defy them.

It was always be the same two who tortured him for hours on end. They left when he passed out to allow his wounds heal overnight, returning in the morning to resume his torment. On the thirteenth day, by Sam's estimation, they left seven stakes in his body and let the wounds heal around them. They slowly pulled the stakes out so he would feel every grain and knot in the wood. He refused to speak.

When their Master heard of their failure to find even a trace of the Williams girls, they hesitantly entered his chamber, resigned to their fate at their master's ire. "We're sorry Sire, we couldn't find them. We captured someone who knows where they are. He won't talk, no matter how persuasive we are." Both bowed their heads refusing to meet his eye.

"Argh! Useless, the lot of you. Bring him through the portal to me immediately. Perhaps he wishes to bargain for his soul." He dismissed them with a flick of his hand.

Sam's guards reappeared through the door they had left through only a moment before. He steeled the last of his strength and stood tall. Callie's life depended on his silence. He had survived them staking him everywhere, their denying him blood had weakened him enough that his wounds took twice as long as normal to even partially heal over. He figured the only reason they hadn't poured holy water into his wounds was because they couldn't touch it either.

The first guard unlocked the cell door whilst the second grabbed him by his hair to trail him through. "You'll be sorry you refused to talk to us, the Master wishes to speak with you now." He laughed, a truly evil laugh that chilled Sam to the bone.

They dragged Sam through the main door and threw him to the ground at the feet of a monster. Slipper shod feet came into Sam's view. As he slowly raised his head, he saw a snake-headed man with a scaly face. The snake-man's eyes glowed with an unearthly vibrant-red hue. Sam could feel something prodding against his thought shield. The snake-man pushed harder, searching Sam's mind, the pain of the intrusion forcing agonized screams from Sam's throat. His shields crumbled and cracked allowing the demon to rip his memories apart one by one. Darkness crept in. He was too weak to fight it.

Demon laughter: the last thing Sam heard.