Legion of the Lost (Witchfire 3)

Chapter 12 - Torture

I doubled over, clutching at my sides.  A watery slosh of bile, coffee and the remnants of last night's post-clubbing Macca's run spurted through my mouth and nose, splattering noisily on the forest floor.

It didn't taste as good the second time around.

I groaned when it was over, leaning on my knees for support as I laboured to catch my breath. It felt like I was gulping down sandpaper instead of air, but my body was desperate for oxygen, slamming it through my veins.

"Move, Nora!" Waters roared from the top of the hill.

The supernaturals were already up there with him, and Seth and Ruben were well on their way to finishing the punishing climb.

I would have responded to Waters with a middle finger if I'd known which blurry figure on the hill to aim it at. A disgusting amount of sweat had found its way into my eyes, mixing with the mascara I'd forgotten to take off last night.

"This team is only as fast as its slowest member," Waters bellowed. "You're letting everyone down."

"Good!" I shouted back, rubbing furiously at my eyes. I was the one who'd been let down; the one who'd been backed into a corner by my own mother, the one person in this world who was supposed to protect me! "This task force is bullshit!"

I obviously hadn't been conscripted for my physical strength or endurance; not when there was a vampire, two werewolves and a supposed werewolf-vampire hybrid in our ranks, who could easily give me a piggy-back ride out of danger should we need to make a hasty retreat. No, the motivation behind this task was more sinister than building endurance. It was designed to break me, so Waters could build me back up according to his liking. I bared my teeth at the thought and dug in my heels, mentally and physically.

He started trudging down the hill. "The legion won't care if you're tired," he said, as if that was supposed to be insightful or motivating. No shit they wouldn't stop — I had first-hand experience with people trying to murder and enslave me, and I'd survived just fine without running pointless laps around this backwoods estate!

"You're right," I said abruptly, spitting on the ground. "I'm done."

No harvest was worth risking my life for. If I stayed, my mother could very well secure her mantle as the Southern Dark Witch without even lifting a finger.

There was a series of meaty cracking sounds, but all I could see through the bleary mess of my mascara was a dark, ballooning mass on the hill. And then I realised that it wasn't actually growing in size, but growing closer.

I tried to run, but the wolf was upon me before I could even take a step. A vicious snarl exploded in my ears as it swatted me face-first into the mud, smacking the air from my lungs, the light from my eyes.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself pinned to the ground by the leathery pad of a massive paw, four claws splayed across my shoulder, digging in.

"Get off me," I whimpered, regretting the words almost instantly. I couldn't reclaim the air I'd sacrificed to make them.

The wolf bore down even harder. Pure terror locked my limbs; it felt like my eyes were going to pop, like my bones were going to snap under the pressure. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't —

The wolf's jaw clamped down on the back of my head, fangs indenting my cheek. Hot, foul breath wafted into my face, while something hot and sticky sept through my hair and down the side of my face, pooling in my left ear. It muffled the threatening rumble that accompanied each of the creature's powerful breaths, but I wasn't sure the trade-off was any less terrifying. I could hear my thundering heartbeat with alarming clarity, feel my skeleton straining. The pressure was too much. It was only a matter of time before something vital gave way, before my veins burst open at the seams —

My eyes rolled into the back of my head as a vision took hold. I was a child again, sitting on a thick, blood-red carpet at the base of a couch, my shoulders pinned in place by the bony knees of the man sitting behind me. His hummed as he combed through my hair with his fingers, but there was nothing loving in the way he ripped through the snarls and knots. Still, I sat still and blinked the tears away, staring at the Persian rug until the pattern burned itself into my brain. I'd never been taught how to care for my curls properly, and Mum had threatened to shave them all off if I didn't sort out the mess by the end of the day.

I took in a shuddering breath, and the scene shifted again, back to the Nightshade estate.

"Please," I whispered, hoping that Waters could understand me in his primal form. "Please..."

Bones cracked. The paw shrank and became a hand on the back of my neck. Still extraordinary in size, but I could move. I could breathe.

And then that disappeared too. I didn't try to get up yet; I knew my body was frozen from fear and would take time to thaw.

Waters summoned the others, to witness the example of which I'd been made. Something bitter surged in my gut as he preached about the cause, and I spat bile onto the ground. I wasn't a member of this task force.

I was its prisoner.

"Go again," Waters barked. "All of you, from the beginning."

We had no choice but to comply.

The City Beta broke me over and over, like a child cracking a glow stick until it leaked its glowing guts. I vomited until there was nothing in my stomach but acid, ran until my knees buckled, at which point Waters would grab the back of my shirt and hoist me up, insisting that I try again.

And then came a time when Waters offered me a helping hand instead of another direction to run in. I was tempted to refuse, but accepted on the grounds that I didn't think I could stand without it. Blades of grass and grains of dirt coalesced into a uniform blanket of gold and green as I stood — a grass moat for a glass castle. We'd found our way back to the mansion.

"Well done, everyone." Waters made sure to look each of us in the eyes, as if to convince us of the sincerity of his praise. "You all have a lot of progress to make before your fitness levels are up to scratch, but the effort you invested in this training session was satisfactory."

"Satisfactory?" I echoed. I'd pushed myself so hard that I'd almost fainted, and my efforts were only satisfactory?

Waters nodded. "The next stage of our training will commence after lunch, which will be had at the Little Red restaurant on the fourth floor. The City Alpha will be in attendance, so make good use of the bathing facilities on your way up."

"What bathing facilities?" I asked, but Waters avoided having to answer by transforming into a wolf. The hulking grey beast even had the audacity to yawn before taking its leave, showcasing sinfully black gums and fangs stained yellow by years of gnawing on carrion. My stomach churned at the long string of saliva that dripped from his maw.

For the first time since I was blackmailed into joining the task force, I respected and agreed with a decision made by someone in a position of authority. I crossed my arms and followed Jerome to the mansion without complaint, pointedly ignoring the others and any attempts they made at small talk.

Right now, washing my hair was of the utmost importance.