FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY
The Brotherhood of Aelin was used to being threatened. Every one of them had been tested against the possibility of capture; attempts had come many times in the earliest days, when their power was raw and their training incomplete.
A little over two years prior, the Conqueror had allowed a brutal physical and psychological attack against their Visionary by one of his most volatile disciples, with the abduction and the sexualized violation of Connor Braydee's mind and body a devastating event that took months of recovery for him to claw his way back from. While Connor was now healed in body from it, he still struggled with lingering memories of the ordeal and occasional nightmares he would wake up from in a cold sweat or a scream of terror. Still, Connor felt strong, and more than capable of fighting back with his whole being should another threat of that nature occur.
For the rest of the band, Connor's abduction had been one of the most terrifying experiences of their young lives, and they vowed never to allow anything remotely close to happen to their Visionary again. Their preparedness was incredible…but not perfect, and that chink in their armor remained. It was only a matter of time before that was proven with horrifying clarity.
The band was preparing to head to the United States again to work on a new album, planning to spend a few months writing, recording, and relaxing with friends who would be drifting in and out of Los Angeles on their own tours.
"One of them had better not be Motley Crue!" Prime Minister Dallenger warned, her eyes shifting to Nathan, "They're a very bad influence on the five of you!"
The rest of the band chuckled knowingly, remembering some of the times where the Crue guys had talked them into some pretty amazing and stimulating debauchery that still held a warm place in their collective memory. Nathan found himself thinking on this a little too much before he felt the stinging swat of Galena's hand against his leg.
"Ow!" Nathan whined.
"Husband!" she cried out at Nathan, "Do not linger on those vile memories! You have my body to toy with at night now, Conjurer!"
"Ooh," Ricky chortled, "Our Prime Minister has the hots for the Conjurer!"
Connor laughed heartily at this and replied, "Our Prime Minister is MARRIED to our Conjurer, dude! She has the right to demand of him…and his body."
"DA! Because it is now mine," Galena told Connor matter-of-factly, "A vow is a vow!"
"Solid logic, that…" Jace said, "Indisputable."
"Da…and none of you are to forget it," Galena replied with a smile, "But stay away from The Crue! They are naughty men with insatiable lustings!"
The band all snickered at this, but Nathan rose from his chair and took his wife into his arms, kissing her deeply, which silenced any and all retort from her instantly.
Nathan and Galena had indeed wed in a magnificent royal ceremony in Aelin only four months prior, after a courtship that began almost the moment they saw each other for the first time in 1984. By mid-1985, the couple was trying to not let their desires disrupt the important work each of them was to be doing in their respective careers.
After Connor's abduction, Galena had become frightened by the possibility of losing Nathan in both body and soul to a similar fate, and made her fear known to him. Both realized there was more there than respect and warmth, something deeper, a love Nathan knew was more than his heart had ever held before. He knew she was the woman he would spend the rest of his life with.
Of course, being married to the Prime Minister of Aelin had its drawbacks at times. Husband and wife would debate Aelinian policy and national intelligence procedures with fiery standoffs and stubborn stalemates. Luckily, those incidents would soon evolve into tender words and passionate kisses once they each stepped back from the subject of conversation long enough to grasp reason. Nathan had even gone the distance in learning how to speak her language, learning Russian so solidly he could even speak it with the same finesse, as if he were native in the language. Which both annoyed and thrilled her to her passionate Russian soul.
Before the band left for America, Galena and Nathan shared a quiet moment alone at the airport in Harmonytis, Aelin. She let him hold her tightly, whispering that he would be back soon enough, and that she should be ready to discuss the future of the Dallenger family.
"We discuss this every night, husband," Galena told him softly, "With glorious passion, my love."
"There is always room for more discussion, wife," Nathan quipped, "A lot more discussion."
Suddenly, Ricky popped up next to them and said, "Don't make me ask Jace to rain a cold shower down on you two."
"Go away, Ricky," Nathan told him, still staring into Galena's eyes.
"Yes," Galena added, "Get on the plane, Sentinel."
Ricky ducked a little bit and sheepishly replied, "Yes, ma'am!"
Nathan could hear the others chuckling, and Erik admonishing Ricky for intruding on a farewell that deserved better.
"Be safe in America, husband," Galena whispered softly, "I will be waiting for you to return to me, Nathan."
Nathan kissed her tenderly, holding her body against his tightly.
"It's going to be a long few months for them," Connor said to Jace.
He had no idea how true that statement would turn out to be.
Battle Cry arrived in Los Angeles quietly enough, entering the newly renovated warehouse space John and Linda had procured for them to use as both a residence and working studio during their time in America. A huge space with everything they would ever need to make it a fantastic musical and personal haven. Each man claimed the room Linda had designed and decorated for him, built around his preferences as she knew them. It was a sanctuary, one that promised serious musical work.
Ricky, who seemed to be dealing with a bit of annoying congestion, was happy to see his room had all the things he needed and a bed cozy enough to dive into if he ended up with the cold he feared was trying to surface.
Nathan's room was more of a lab with a Hammond organ, a few synths, and a bed in it, while Linda and John made sure that there was a fully equipped weight room for Jace and Erik, the two fitness fiends. Connor was thrilled that his room had plants in it and a very nice painting of a sailboat on the ocean. The kitchen was stocked with all of the healthy things Erik and Jace wanted, and all of the horrible things Ricky and Connor insisted on, while Nathan only cared who was in charge of the cooking. It was honestly one of the coolest places they ever got to reside. The problem was…they never got the chance to really enjoy it.
Danger found them first.
The first to find himself in the grip of peril was Ricky. He was leaving a late-night jam session with a few good friends he hadn't seen in ages at a small little nightclub in Thousand Oaks, the buzz of creativity still thrumming through him, when the van pulled up. Two men, built like refrigerators, were out before the sliding door even finished opening. Ricky's first instinct was to teleport, to create a diversion, but before he could even move he was assaulted viciously and knocked to the ground. Ricky fought hard against the men, delivering his own damage to them before a sickeningly sweet, cloying smell filled his lungs. Chloroform. His world went fuzzy, then black.
He woke up with a splitting headache and a vile taste in his mouth. He was standing, that much registered before the ropes did. Ropes, thick and rough, were wrapped around his chest, his arms, and his legs, pinning him securely to a thick, wooden support beam in what looked like a damp, musty basement. A cloth gag was shoved deep in his mouth, making it hard to breathe. He tried to summon a portal, to do anything, but his thoughts were sluggish, his power a distant, unreachable echo. They were keeping him drugged. Panic, cold and sharp, began to prickle at the edges of his consciousness.
"Oh hell no…" Ricky thought in panic, "Not again!"
The rest of the band had no idea what had happened to their lead guitarist, each of them not remotely thinking they could be in danger. Because of this, the remaining members of Battle Cry were setting themselves up to be picked off one by one. The next band member to fall victim was Connor.
He felt the wrongness the moment he stepped out of the management office and walked to the car. The air was too still, the hallway too quiet. He was already turning, his mind reaching out to shove, to incapacitate, when they struck. Three of them this time. He managed to send one flying into a wall with a telekinetic blast, but the other two were on him, a storm of fists and brute force.
Connor fought like a tiger, his Persian fury and Visionary strength a tangible force. He was able to disable a man who charged at him, but his attackers were prepared, not allowing him the time to call any of his brothers. Connor lifted another man in the air and then threw him against a dumpster, but before he could gain his bearings completely, a rag soaked in the same chemical was shoved against his face, smothering him. He struggled, his mind a weapon firing wildly, but the chemicals were a fog, smothering his power, dragging him down into darkness. He couldn't even cry out through the empathic bond to Jace and Nathan before his consciousness ebbed away, leaving him totally at the mercy of the men who subdued him.
He awoke in the same basement, his head pounding. He was bound standing too, but to a heavy, rusted metal grate that covered a hole in the wall. The same kind of ropes, the same gag, the same drugged, helpless feeling. He saw Ricky, slumped against the beam, and a cold dread, far worse than any physical threat, settled in his gut. This wasn't random. This was targeted. It was happening again, and Connor felt terror close over him like a fist.
The third to be abducted was Jace. Unfortunately, his attackers knew exactly what they were dealing with, and were prepared with manpower.
Jace just wanted a cigarette. Just one. A simple little craving he wished to satisfy ended up setting him up for an easy capture.
He was standing in the alley behind the nightclub, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stuffy venue. He stood and talked with the head bartender at the kitchen exit of the pub, lighting his cigarette. He was relaxed and distracted by the conversation, which was about whiskey. After the bartender went back inside, Jace took a final drag on the finished cigarette and crushed it out.
Jace never saw them coming. One moment he was turning to grab the door handle, the next he was struggling against multiple strong hands who held him flat against the wall, and trying desperately not to succumb to the drug they were forcing into him, its cloying reek filling his lungs. One man held the drug-soaked cloth hard over Jace's nose and mouth, hissing in a low menacing growl into his ear, "Oh, no, Guardian…you have an appointment to keep!"
Jace heard this, and it echoed in his mind as the cloying medication finally took him down. He woke up bound and gagged, trussed up to a thick drainage pipe, his hands bound above his head, ropes firmly affixing his body to the pipe across his chest and legs. He was gagged, and no amount of desperate struggling would allow him any room to move. Anger flooded his senses, an annoyance that more than showed when he was able to fully regain his senses. This was happening once more, and they were stupid enough to have become complacent and open the door to it all happening again.
He saw Connor and Ricky, both bound and drugged, and his blood ran cold. This was an attack on the Brotherhood itself.
He was the Guardian, the leader, and he was utterly, terrifyingly helpless.
Nathan sensed something was off. He knew the rest of the band was off enjoying time with other friends, while he and Erik stayed at the warehouse and worked on music, but he could not dismiss the nagging feeling that something was wrong. It was a feeling strong enough to make him stop what he was writing and stand up, going to a window and searching the view outside for anything that seemed out of place. His mind whispered out to Jace and Connor, receiving no response, which in itself was disturbing to him. He didn't know why, but he had to go outside, if for nothing else than to remove the interference of the warehouse and its thick walls.
It happened in the parking lot of the warehouse. He felt the ambush before he saw it, the hostile intent a sharp spike in his senses. He was ready. He slammed his foot on the ground, and a wall of broken concrete, earth, and thorny vegetation coalesced, blocking him from the oncoming van.
Nathan's hands moved smoothly, picking up other items to be hurled when the right moment arrived. The van screeched to a halt, with men spilling out of it in a great number. He thrust his hands out, and a torrent of water, summoned from a nearby pipe, slammed into two of his attackers, sending men sprawling.
The Conjurer was a whirlwind of fury, a one-man army of elemental force. But he was so focused on the frontal assault that he didn't see one attacker until it was too late. He received a blow to the back of his head that sent stars exploding in his vision.
Nathan fell to his knees, dazed, and then he felt the suffocating pressure and horrible smell of chloroform. The last thing he saw before the darkness took him was the van's side door sliding open.
Erik was oblivious to the terror happening to his brothers until an hour later, when he heard Linda's panicked voice desperately calling his name in the warehouse.
"Erik!!" She screamed tearfully, "Erik! Oh, please be here!"
Erik quickly ran from the room he was in and looked down at her from the loft area, asking, "Linda?! What's wrong?"
"Oh, thank God!!" Linda cried, "Are you okay?"
Confused, Erik replied, "Yeah…Linda, what's going on?"
"Your brothers," Linda told him with a terrified tremble, "They've been taken. We received a ransom note…so did Galena. Erik, it's bad!"
Erik tore down the stairs to get to her, his voice still, yet icily serious, "When? When did this happen?"
"We don't really know," Linda told him, "But the ransom demands something Aelin cannot offer. I am so scared, Erik. I can't think of it…I can't imagine…"
Erik hugged Linda, letting her dissolve into frightened sobs against his chest. He soothed her to the best of his ability, while trying to center his own thoughts on any way to get to his brothers and rescue them somehow. He knew it was more than he could accomplish alone.
Hours later, Linda and Erik were on the phone with Aelinian Intelligence, piecing together what was known about the abductions. Galena had been informed, and Sidney had flown back to Aelin to be with her, as her composure was weakening the longer the minutes ticked by.
This was the final straw in Prime Minister Dallenger's mind.
Galena felt a sudden, chilling void in the bond she shared with her husband. She was in the grand library of the Prime Minister's residence when the message came through, a secure, encrypted comm from an Aelinian Intelligence operative embedded in America.
"Prime Minister Dallenger," the message read. "We have a Code Black. Four members of The Brotherhood have been abducted. The Conjurer was taken. We have a ransom demand. It is a demand that must not be granted for the safety of the people of this nation."
Galena's blood turned to ice. She read the rest of the message, her heart sinking with every word. It wasn't just money. It was a demand to dismantle the Veil of Aelin, to expose their hidden nation to the world, to even the odds for their ancient enemy, Aldus the Conqueror. It was a demand Aelin would never be able to meet.
The safety of millions was at stake. The message ended with a chilling promise: "If the demands are not met, the Brotherhood will be severely punished."
Galena was ready to declare war against the United States of America on the sole grounds that this abduction was occurring on American soil. It took Samantha, Indira, Rebekah, and Sidney an hour to calm her down, with Sidney staunchly reminding her that America was an ally to Aelin, and that any rash emotional reaction would only endanger the Brotherhood further.
"Galena," Rebekah soothed, "You cannot fall apart now. You must keep your heart strong, and your mind stronger. I am scared for them, too. I do not even know if my Erik has been taken, but I will not fold even if he has."
"I know Jace is in trouble," Samantha added, "I can feel it. But he would benefit more from me being collected and calm. That is what Nathan needs you to be right now, Galena."
Indira went to Galena and without speaking a word, she hugged her tightly. Galena emitted a few heavy sobs accepting the comfort from her friend. She knew Indira was just as frightened for Connor as she was for all of them. She still carried memories of the first time Connor had been subjected to such horrors and the thought of him enduring it all over again tore at her more than she allowed herself to show. When she stepped back from Galena, she finally spoke, her voice strong, but laced with her own fear.
"Nathan needs you to be strong. He needs his Prime Minister right now. That is who you are, ma'am…and who you must be for their sake."
Galena nodded. She surveyed everyone in the room, then squared her shoulders. She called out to her assistant, Yara.
"Yara, podgotov' moy portal v Belyy dom. Mne nuzhno pogovorit' s prezidentom Reyganom."
Yara curtsied in response and quickly left the room.
Looking at Sidney, Galena nodded and said, "You are right…I cannot declare war. But I can appeal to President Reagan's heart. He loves his own family completely. He will understand."
Erik knew they were coming for him. He wasn't psychic, but he could still feel the wrongness of what they wanted to have happen. He felt the predatory intent.
He could fight or stay hidden somewhere. But that was not in his plans. His brothers were in trouble, and after the last time one of them had been abducted, he was not willing to sit sequestered while it all unfolded without him. His duty, his very being, was to protect his Brothers. So, he'd let those goons take him. He'd simply walk into the trap, like a lamb to the slaughter, hoping to get inside, to find a weakness, to be the warrior they needed. He knew it was likely not the wisest idea he'd ever had, but he'd rather be a captive with them than sit like a big nervous lug awaiting word on if they were all still in one piece.
Erik slipped out of the warehouse, even though he was under the careful watch of both John and Linda, as well as a significant showing of the Aelinian Military Force. He moved with a stealth he'd picked up from watching Ricky over the years, taking care not to alert anyone of his movements.
Aelinian Military guards were trained to be the best in both tactical and special ops, but they were supposed to be even better at detecting covert movement. Erik, being the top General of the Aelinian Military Forces, especially as the Warrior of The Brotherhood of Aelin, knew that if they missed his escape from the warehouse, someone would answer for it once he returned from whatever this ordeal was to hold for him.
There would be training…oh yes…there would indeed be training.
Erik moved slowly, evading detection, and slipped out of the safe confines of the warehouse. He shook his head incredulously at the ease in which he had left the building. He now moved deliberately, being sure to see and be seen. He knew it was only a matter of time before he'd be faced with those who'd taken his brothers. He was right.
It occurred quickly enough, and Erik was almost pleased to finally be confronted by them.
"Finally…" he quipped, "Took you bastards long enough."
Dozens of men swarmed him, their sheer weight and numbers almost overwhelming him despite his incredible strength. It was easy enough for Erik to throw all of them off of him with one huge movement of his upper body. He sent men flying into walls and skidding painfully across the ground. What he didn't count on was the sheer numbers they employed to finish the capture.
Before Erik knew it, more than fifty men piled onto him, all deploying every last bit of strength they could muster, and this time it was more than the Warrior could defend against. With the full weight of these men holding him down, Erik was pinned to the ground, with only one of his arms sticking out from under the masculine pile of bodies. That arm was the recipient of a stinging shot that soon robbed Erik of consciousness.
He woke up in the basement, bound and gagged like the others. When his mind began to clear up, the drug-induced fog dissipating enough to return his vision, he saw Jace and Connor also awake and looking at him with concern and fear in their eyes. Both Nathan and Ricky were unconscious, but very much alive much to his relief. With the gags in their mouths, there could be no conversation, but just the terror in the eyes of his Guardian and Visionary was enough to turn Erik's blood cold. Dread settled heavy over him at the grim realization that they were all likely in far more trouble than he had imagined.
It was hours later before they heard any movement from above them in the house. Nathan had awakened, alarmed to see Erik had joined them in their confinement. He took one look at Erik and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wooden support beam he was secured to.
Ricky was hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness. Erik could see something was badly wrong with the guitarist, a paleness to his skin that spoke of genuine illness, his hair soaked with sweat, while he shivered visibly. His brothers watched Ricky with concern as well. It was all too clear that he was afflicted with an illness not related to their abduction. Erik recalled Ricky struggling with what he'd called "allergies" after they'd arrived in Los Angeles. He'd complained about "having a small hurricane stuck in his sinuses."
Battle Cry meets their Abductors
Suddenly, the door to the basement area slammed open, startling all of them, including Ricky who was so delirious he had been murmuring things through the gag feverishly. They heard footsteps descending, and once their visitors reached the bottom of the stairs, they were surprised at who they saw. A woman and three men stood at the base of the stairs, surveying the Brotherhood with fascination.
The woman who had descended the basement stairs was not what they expected. She was beautiful, in a cold, predatory way, dressed in a silk robe that did little to hide her perfect figure. One of the men with her, later revealed to be her husband, was a sleazy, sweating man, who seemed more than excited at the possibilities for lecherous fun and games, his eyes gleaming with a sick light.
"Well, well," she purred, her voice like poisoned honey. "The mighty Brotherhood of Aelin. All imprisoned especially for me. How exciting!"
She moved to Connor first, her hand trailing down his chest.
"I've heard about you, Visionary," she cooed, "I heard you enjoy being touched in just the right ways. I'm no sorceress, but I'm sure I can find a way to make you scream."
Connor's eyes narrowed at her, his pure hatred bleeding into his emerald eyes. She reached out to touch his face and he flinched away from her, breathing heavily.
"I have been craving you," she whispered. "I wonder what you're thinking right now."
Connor's eyes blazed with defiance. He tried to project a wave of pure, psychic revulsion at her, but the drugs were a thick blanket, smothering his power. He could only watch in horror as she started to unbutton his pants.
"No," he grunted through the gag, thrashing against his bonds.
The woman laughed.
"No?" she asked, turning to her husband. "He said no, Harv."
"Can't have that," the husband leered.
The woman nodded to her henchmen, and then toward Ricky. The men quickly moved to untie Ricky, who was barely conscious, and dragged him upstairs. As they took Ricky away, both Connor and Jace fought hard against their restraints, trying desperately to free themselves. The woman just laughed at their efforts.
"It's exciting to see you struggle," she purred, moving to Jace. She studied him with sensual consideration, "You are magnificent, Guardian. Strong, handsome, powerful…but under my control you are little more than a man who can be broken."
She placed a lecherous hand against Jace's groin and caressed him. Jace emitted an outraged roar through the gag, trying to buck away from her touch. This angered the woman, who tightly gripped Jace's chin in her hand and spat, "If I say you will be mine to torture or exploit, Your Majesty…it will happen. Whatever I want, Harvey makes sure I get."
She let go of Jace and turned her attention to the newest arrival to the captives, moving across the room to Erik.
"So, you are the Warrior…" She drawled, touching his chest curiously, expressing a small, involuntary gasp at the definition of his muscles, "You are quite something to behold. It took 52 men to finally bring you to me. I am very impressed!"
Erik regarded her coldly, his eyes registering nothing more than rigid defiance. She then turned to Nathan, who looked at her with detestation.
"Conjurer," she said, "You will be very useful to me, though not as a toy. Still, I won't rule you out…you are also quite hot, and I like intelligent men. I have another purpose for you, Nathan. Don't fret…it's purely logistical."
She returned to stand in front of Connor, regarding him with a cruel smile, "You and I will discuss the finer points of seduction later, Visionary. But, as you refused me, I will just have to have a discussion with your Sentinel. He doesn't seem to be feeling at all well…and after your denial of my wishes, I doubt he will feel any better when I am finished with him."
Connor struggled against his bonds again, screaming through the gag at her in fury. She suddenly wheeled around and backhanded him across the face, hissing as she grasped his throat tightly in her hand, "I hold the power in my control, Visionary! YOU are only a means to a more lucrative future! And if I want you…I will have you! And yes…I WILL have you eventually."
She released Connor's throat, and finished with, "Your Sentinel will return…that is if he survives."
She wheeled around, calling her husband and two henchmen to follow her back upstairs. Again, they were alone, but without Ricky they were beyond frightened. Minutes went by and soon they began to hear screams from inside the house. Terrifying screams of agony and horror that became diminished after a few minutes and then finally ceased. Not long after, they could hear sobbing, coughing, and a weak voice that seemed to be pleading. They couldn't hear what was said, but it was too clear to all of them…Ricky was being hurt. Connor's head dropped to his chest, his face now stained with tears he could not help but shed. They could hear voices speaking upstairs, one asking if "he's worth a game or two." Then they heard a woman's voice say, "He's too sick for any games. Pity…he's really fine when he's not on death's door."
A half hour later, the two henchmen kicked open the basement door and dragged Ricky back down, shirtless and a mess of wounds and bruises. They had tortured him, beaten him, and terrorized him. His back was a raw, bloody mess of crisscrossed angry welts from a leather whip. They tied him back to the support beam again and slumped against it with a low, pained moan escaping his lips through the gag. When he woke up a few minutes later, the pain hit him with searing force and he let out a raw, agonizing scream through the gag.
Connor's defiance instantly died at this, replaced by a cold, helpless rage. He looked at Ricky, then at the woman, who had followed Ricky down the stairs, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"He was such a good boy," she purred, turning back to Connor, "Are you going to be a good boy for me now, Visionary?"
"No!" Jace's voice, muffled by the gag but filled with a desperate authority, cut through the air. He looked from Connor to Nathan, his eyes pleading. He knew what they could do to Nathan, and he couldn't allow it to happen.
He shook his head, a look of grim acceptance on his face. He would do it. He would pay the price to protect Connor from a fate the singer had already survived once in his lifetime already.
Harvey Marks nodded, his eyes gleaming with malice. He crossed to where Jace was bound to the drainage pipe and studied him with disturbing intensity.
"The Guardian of Aelin," Harvey said, his voice oily and satisfied. "The High King himself. This is quite the prize, Lillian."
"Indeed it is," Lillian replied. She approached Jace, running a finger along his jawline. Jace jerked his head away, amber-gold eyes burning with fury.
"Such fire," she murmured. "I wonder how long that will last."
She nodded to Harvey, and together they began to untie Jace from the pipe. His hands were still bound together tightly, the gag still firmly in place, but they were freeing him from the fixed position.
"Bring him upstairs," Lillian commanded. "I want to... get to know the King of Aelin much better."
Nathan, Connor, Erik, and Ricky all reacted at once: muffled shouts through their gags, violent struggling against their bonds. Connor's emerald eyes were wide with terror and rage. Nathan was fighting so hard against the ropes that blood began to seep through where they bit into his wrists. Erik's massive frame shook with the force of his attempts to break free.
But they were helpless. Drugged, bound, gagged, unable to do anything but watch as Harvey and another man dragged Jace toward the stairs.
Jace fought them every step. Even with his hands bound and his balance compromised by the drugs still in his system, he twisted, kicked, tried to drop his full weight to make himself harder to move. But there were too many of them, and they were prepared for resistance.
The last thing his brothers saw before Jace disappeared up the stairs was the look in his eyes: not fear, but fury. Absolute rage.
The basement door slammed shut.
Upstairs, they threw Jace into what looked like a bedroom. His hands were still bound at the wrists, the gag still in place. Harvey and another man, a massive, silent enforcer, held him upright while Lillian circled him like a predator examining prey.
"Remove the gag," she ordered. "I want to hear him."
The enforcer yanked the cloth from Jace's mouth. He gasped, working his jaw, amber-gold eyes blazing with hatred.
Lillian stepped close, running a finger down his chest. Jace jerked away from her touch.
"Such defiance," she purred. "We're going to have so much fun together, Your Majesty. But first..." She gestured to his clothes. "How about you just strip for me?"
Jace stared at her, hot defiance written all over his features.
"How about no?" he replied, his voice a deep, angered growl.
"Excuse me?"
"No..." Jace told her plainly, his voice becoming icy as he hissed at her, "You want me stripped; you do it yourself. I’m not doing anything for you."
Lillian's eyes narrowed. She nodded to Harvey and the goon she hired named Darrell, "Make him comply."
They moved toward him. Jace, even with his hands bound, launched himself at the nearest one, the enforcer. His shoulder caught the man in the chest, sending him stumbling back. Jace spun, using his momentum to kick at Harvey, connecting with his knee.
"Hold him down!" Harvey shouted, rage coloring his voice.
The enforcer recovered, grabbing Jace from behind. Jace twisted, trying to break free, his entire body a weapon. He got his foot behind the enforcer's ankle and pulled, sending them both crashing to the floor.
In the basement below:
The crash made all of them jump. Then more sounds: impacts, furniture toppling, bodies slamming into walls.
Jace was fighting. Hard.
"Hold him down!" Harvey's voice from above, sharp and commanding.
More crashing. Something breaking. Jace grunting with effort.
Then they heard it, Jace's voice, clear and defiant: "Get the fuck off me!"
Another impact. Heavier. Multiple bodies.
"Pin his arms... get his..."
More struggling. It went on for what felt like hours but was probably only a minute or two. The sounds of a fight, brutal, desperate.
Then, suddenly, Jace's voice again: "NO!"
A terrible, heavy thud. Like a body being slammed into the floor.
Then... quiet.
Not peaceful quiet. Knowing quiet. Terrible quiet.
In the basement, Connor had stopped struggling. His emerald eyes were wide, fixed on the ceiling, tears streaming down his face. He knew what that quiet meant. He remembered.
Nathan was making sounds through his gag: desperate, anguished, almost animal. His whole body shook with the effort of trying to break free.
Erik's jaw was clenched so hard they could hear his teeth grinding. Blood ran freely from his wrists where he'd torn skin against the ropes.
Ricky, fever-dulled but aware, had tears running down his face into the gag.
The quiet stretched on.
Then... other sounds. Rhythmic. Undeniable. Muffled cries of horror and rage. Cries of ecstasy and lustful groans. Sounds of release both loud and muffled told the horrible story of what they all knew was happening to Jace.
Connor broke. He was sobbing now, his body convulsing, trying to cry out through the gag. Not again, not again, not Jace, not...
Nathan's eyes squeezed shut, unable to bear it. His brother. His king. His friend. Helpless to stop it.
Erik's rage was incandescent. Every muscle in his massive body strained against the bonds. He would kill them if he could. He would kill them all.
The sounds continued for several minutes that felt like an eternity.
Then they stopped.
Voice spoke above them
Lillian's, sharp with satisfaction: "...knew he'd be difficult..."
Harvey: "...still breathing...let him rest. Next round’s coming..."
An hour passed with no noise from above, a silence more frightening than anything they’d heard. Connor’s sobs slowed at last; he sagged against his bonds, head bowed, eyes staring dully at the floor. Nathan couldn’t stop looking at the ceiling. The only sounds he could catch were the creak of furniture and an occasional defiant groan. Jace was still up there, still restrained, still theirs... and they had promised the next round would come.
And it did not last long after this. They heard Lillian and Harvey talking, taunting Jace, who they could hear responding through his gag.
“Take the gag off again,” they heard Lillian say, “Leave it off... for now.”
Almost as if he were instantly responding to her, they heard Jace spit out angrily, “Bitch! Damn you both!”
Suddenly, they heard a scuffle that included the moving of furniture, Jace’s furious cries and horrified, painful pleas for them to stop, and both Lillian and Harvey’s sickening moans and cries of sexual release.
More sudden movement, and a barked command that told Jace what to do to Lillian, how hard to do it, and to use all his anger on her because she was the reason they were all here. What followed was the loudest evidence they had of the complete horror Jace was being forced to do. Lillian’s screams of pleasure were coupled with her urging Jace on, finally crying out in release as Jace cried out his own.
Connor looked up at the ceiling now, his eyes filled with horror, tears again spilling down. He knew what it felt like to be forced into release. To be made into a possession good for nothing other than sexual gratification. Now Jace knew this same horror, and Connor knew it was the same horror that awaited him, too.
After a few minutes, Harvey’s voice could be heard, and his words were sickening.
“Thank you for the games, Guardian,” they heard Harvey tell Jace, “You’re as good as we’d hoped, Your Majesty.”
Lillian voice spoke again with, "Real good...but too defiant. Give him something to think about. Twenty lashes."
More terrible quiet.
Quiet, and then a struggle, sounds of Jace's voice crying out angrily, and then painful cries accompanied with a sharp snap. Twenty of them. Ricky began to sob now. He knew what Jace was enduring. He knew what it felt like. The last snap brought a weaker cry, and then they heard Lillian say, "Well done, Harv...I think he's learned his lesson now."
Harvey's voice said, "Just leave him there. After that, he's not going anywhere."
Silence again. A stillness all of them were beginning to hate now. And then, from above, so faint they almost missed it...
Sobbing. Broken, anguished sobbing. Jace's voice, stripped of all the defiance, all the rage, just... broken. It was the worst sound any of them had ever heard. Even worse was when they clearly heard Jace's voice tearfully praying to God to help them all, and to help him endure what he must to save his brothers.
Tears were falling freely now for them all. Connor felt like his heart was being torn from his chest. Erik's fury gave way to something deeper…grief. Profound, helpless grief. He bowed his head and quietly prayed as tears spilled down his face. Ricky continued to sob quietly in despair. The fact that one of his best friends had just endured everything he’d heard from upstairs, the man he knew to be the gentlest and kindest man he’d ever known, was a pain he felt almost as stingingly as his own abuse at Lillian and Harvey’s hands.
Eventually, Jace's crying stopped. The horrible silence returned.
Then, finally, movement overhead. Footsteps.
Lillian's voice, cold: "Take him back down. We're done with him for now."
"He can barely move..."
"I don't care. Get him out of my sight."
More dragging sounds. The basement door opened.
Harvey and another man appeared, half-carrying, half-dragging Jace between them. The Guardian was barely conscious, his head hanging forward, his body limp. His shirt had been removed, and his back was a mess of welts and bleeding lacerations. His face was bruised and his nose bloodied. He almost looked as if he'd been in a bar fight.
They didn't bother tying him back to the pipe properly. They just secured him with his hands behind his back, binding his legs together, and securing his body to the pipe with even more rope. Jace sat limply on the floor, his breathing shallow and ragged. Blood dripped steadily from his back onto the basement floor. The thugs shoved a gag back into Jace's mouth, tying it tightly behind his head. With only a grunt of satisfaction at their work, the two clomped back upstairs and slammed the door behind them. Jace emitted a soft cry of pain that carried more than just the physical.
His brothers stared in horror. This was the Guardian of Aelin, the High King, the strongest among them, reduced to this broken, bleeding thing bound and gagged on the floor to a metal pipe.
But then, slowly, Jace raised his head. His eyes opened slightly, and he found Nathan's gaze across the basement. He managed a nod. Just enough to say I am alive and I am not broken.
Nathan felt tears streaming down his face. Pride and grief and fury all mixed together.
Connor, watching through his own tears, heard the faintest whisper.
Still here. Still fighting. I will never stop.
Erik's jaw was set in a grim line. Jace had just endured hell rather than submit. The Warrior would remember that. He would honor it. He would make these bastards pay dearly for it if he could.
Even Ricky, wracked with feverish chills, understood what had just happened. His Sentinel's eyes, usually so full of mischief and light, were dark with rage and hatred for their tormentors. He watched Jace until he could no longer keep his eyes open, his body weak and freezing.
Jace lay there for perhaps an hour, drifting in and out of consciousness, occasionally moaning in pain. Lillian and Harvey allowed all of them to rest overnight, planning to start over again with Jace in the morning.
However, Jace awakened with more energy and feeling stronger than anticipated, and medication had not been adequately administered to dull his Guardian power completely. When two men came to untie him and drag him back upstairs for round two of the attempt to break the Guardian, Jace fought back immediately. They’d untied him from the pipe and removed the gag from his mouth...and Jace attacked, knocking one man out and dazing the other just long enough for Jace to make a dash for the stairs. He needed to get to help, to someone who could get them out. Somehow. While the thought was logical at the time, Jace had less than a few seconds before he was tackled at the top of the stairs by the other man, with the two of them tumbling down to the basement floor.
The brothers were all crying out muffled encouragement to Jace as he fought, watching as Jace's amulet blazed to life and his power surged upward. One of the thugs yelled desperately to someone upstairs, "The Guardian is powering up! He's fighting!"
Seconds later, Harvey came flying down the stairs with a syringe in his hand, needle bared and ready to inject.
The Brothers were all screaming through their gags now, horrified as Harvey jumped on top of Jace and plunged the needle hard into Jace's thigh. Jace cried out in pain and anger, throwing all three men off of him and staggering against the wall, leaning hard against it, then sliding down to the floor in a crumpled heap, unable to move. All Jace could do was sit there and breathe in painful, labored breaths before he completely lost consciousness. He was again tied to the metal pipe, this time with a lot more rope and a couple of chains.
It was clear that even with the dulling medications, the Guardian was still quite capable of causing damage to anyone who attempted to touch him again. All attempts to do so resulted in a fierce fight, plenty of spitting, and a generous amount of Jace telling Lillian, Harvey, and their goons not to touch him and to go fuck themselves.
One thing Jace did all too well, and to his own detriment once or twice, was headbutt a thug or two. He managed to nail Harvey with a very strong one that split his own brow open as a result. The thug they called Darrell received another one that made its point as he untied Jace’s arms from above his head. As far as Jace was concerned, Harvey and his thugs were targets. Treated with as much vitriol and malice as he could manage.
Lillian had grown tired of Jace's open defiance. While he never enacted violence against her, his hatred for her was like acid dripping from his pores, and it was evident that any attempt to bring him back upstairs would become a lesson in futility. He would do nothing she would demand of him, and seemed too willing to take punishment rather than allow her to touch even one hair on his head.
“Go ahead...” He’d rasped out to her, “Hurt me. Kill me. It still gets you nothing, you whore.”
That got him the only thing Lillian could deliver since nothing else was working. She back handed him hard, then looked at the one brother Jace was afraid she would remember she wanted.
"I want the Visionary," she purred to her husband, Harvey, before glancing at Jace with a sadistic smile, "I want the one the King of Aelin doesn’t want me to have. I want to see how long it will take to make the Visionary scream. I heard he’s a strong one, though. A lot of...endurance."
Jace struggled against his bindings again and yelled, “Leave him alone! You bitch!”
“You hear that, Visionary?” Lillian cooed, stepping close enough to Connor to lick his gagged lips with her tongue, which received a growl and flinch in response, “Be defiant, it makes the game so much more delightful, Mr. Braydee. So much more fun!”
“Why are you doing this to us?!” Jace questioned angrily, “I don’t think you’re doing this for The Conqueror, are you?”
Lillian laughed and walked back to Jace, placing her hand over his crotch and enjoying his profane demand for her to stop.
“The Conqueror is not a part of this, Your Majesty,” she told him, “He just provides the cash to do it. He has no idea what’s going on... this is all MY plan. And Harv’s... he loves the games...as you know too well, Guardian.”
Harvey chuckled and confirmed this with, “Oh yes, he knows, my dear.”
Harvey tried to touch Jace’s chest, but received a face full of well-directed spit from the Guardian. Unfortunately, it also got Jace a punch in the face and the gag shoved back into his mouth.
“Bring the Visionary...” Lillian commanded, “The party starts soon.”
Connor knew what was coming. He had seen what they did to Ricky. He had seen what they had inflicted on Jace. He looked at each of his brothers carefully. Jace, Erik, Nathan, and Ricky, his best friends. The only brothers he had. And he made his choice.
When Lillian and her cronies untied him, he didn't fight. He let them untie him from the grate, his eyes hollow with resignation. He was taken upstairs, and for the next several hours, he was forced to endure one horrific humiliation after another.
Connor Braydee endured a nightmare worse than the one Sorienne had inflicted upon him. This time, Lillian and Harvey Marks were responsible. He became the main course in a depraved orgy for them and several of their lecherous friends. He was a captive, being used, physically abused, degraded, and forced to be a part of sexual acts he would never have consented to even in his younger years. He was treated almost like a sacrifice, as if he were being given up to whatever pornographic god they were praying to. They chained him to a wall, allowing anyone in the party who wanted to assault him in any way they chose to.
Connor was kept naked, bound, and gagged, his psychic powers smothered by drugs, his mind imprisoned within them. He became more of a robot, resigned to whatever fantasy they had, promising to harm his bandmates if he resisted, and causing physical pain to him even when he complied. They could hear him cry out in pain occasionally, after the crack of a whip, and other times, they heard moans of pleasure, groans of ecstasy, and amid them was a muffled cry of release, and muffled sobs.
They also heard the voices of these lecherous maggots talking to Connor, some telling him they’d always wanted to see if the things they’d read about him in the magazines and groupie journals were really true. One of them even told Connor, “Sorienne was right about you, Visionary...you’re just so wonderfully responsive!”
They heard it from the basement, said loud and on purpose, meant to drive fresh fear and shame into an already broken man.
When he was finally brought back downstairs, he was clothed only in his pants; he was bleeding, with welts, cuts, and bruises all over his back and arms, his spirit clearly broken. They tied him back to the grate, and he cried out in pain from his injuries. His bruised face and busted lip clearly showed what happened when he showed any defiance. They put the gag back in his mouth and tied it tightly. After this, they left the basement and closed the door, locking it.
Connor didn't show any obvious emotion at first, but before long the quiet, broken sounds escaping from him were unmistakable. He kept his head bowed, blood and tears dripping to the floor as he shook and quietly sobbed. Jace, Erik, and Nathan watched him helplessly. Another crushing abuse of his body and soul, and they all feared this one might finally break him.