Burnt Devotion (Imdalind, #5)(11)

While whatever Joclyn had done in her attempt to end my life had given me a slight grip on reality, on sanity, I could already feel it slipping away. Precious sanity was retreating back into wherever Edmund had taken it to. The voice inside of me grew louder as the burn of my throat and my lungs turned into an ache from the air that was finally finding its way back into me after the last few minutes of denial.

The minutes that Joclyn had tried to kill me.

I wished she had. I wished she had worked faster. I wished she had sucked the life out of me before they’d had a chance to stop her, before they had restarted my heart and plunged me back into the hell I had been trapped in for months. I didn’t want to deal with the torture that was inside as well as out, the pain that was only made worse as she stripped away the last thing that I had held on to—the last memory I knew was mine.

That Joclyn loved me.

And I loved her.

You don’t know love.

Now, I couldn’t be sure of anything anymore.

Who I was. What I was.

I had lost the only thing I had.

Now there was nothing.

You are nothing.

Nothing but the voice.

Killed you. She tried to kill you.

Except for that. I could be sure of that.

The words filled my mind, words I would normally fight and rebut as I tried to keep hold on who I was, but not anymore. Not this time. I had expected the familiar surge of ownership, of need and raw desire to rise up in me at the mention of her name in my mind.

But there was nothing there.

Nothing but anger, hatred, and a reckless need to find her, to hurt her, to kill her. My memory of what had happened dug into me like a cruel nightmare.

Kill her now.

Kill her.

The words screamed inside of me as she screamed without, everything blending with the unfamiliar voices that chattered around me.

Everything mashed together, and above it all, there were hands on me, hands carrying me, hands comforting me. At least, that was what I thought it was. I couldn’t be sure anymore.

The idea of comfort was too foreign.

Don’t let them touch you.

You need to get back to her.

I know. He took her.

You need to find her.

Find her.

Find him.

Kill her.

Kill.

Kill them both.

Kill…

I tried to fight on instinct, although whether it was from the hands or in a mad attempt to escape the voice, I wasn’t sure. Either way, no matter how hard I screamed and writhed, my body didn’t respond. I was only trapped inside my own mind.

It was the worst possible place to be.

Edmund’s voice drowned out my sanity. Despite knowing deep down what was going on, despite what little grip on reality I had thanks to the distance of my father from me, I still couldn’t pull past the screams. I still couldn’t drown out the ridicule my father had implanted inside of me.

Find her.

I was still a prisoner.

“Her, too?”

Why didn’t you kill her?

“Yes, I suppose keeping them away from each other is going to be harder than we thought.” The voices broke through the screaming that filled my mind. Sain’s familiar cadence almost felt like home to me, something I had never felt before in my life. It was something familiar, something comforting, anyway. If only it was enough to stop the madness that had taken hold.

To stop his voice from filling my mind.

You had the perfect opportunity to kill her!

“I don’t like this.” A new voice followed Sain’s. I tried to focus on it, to let it drown out the madness and allow the fragile pieces of sanity I had left to take hold. It wasn’t enough.

Kill her!

“You think I do? We’re surrounded by an army with two children inside who are trying to kill each other and two adults debilitated…”

Go back and kill her!

“Edmund has thought through his plan far too well.”

Now! Kill her now!

“You sure you didn’t have anything to do with this, Sain?”

Kill!

“Even if I did, do you think I would have been able to stop it? You rescued me from that place all those years ago, you even helped in controlling me. You know I have no say in the matter.”

Kill.

“I know. It’s just…”

Kill!

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Kill!” the word burst out of me before I had even reached a fully conscious state. Every command I had sent to my body over the last few minutes broke through the barrier at once, and I flailed.

The men called out in alarm as I slipped from their hold and fell onto the hard stone of the floor like a hundred ton weight. A ripple of pain shook through me, and I screamed in agony, the sound more in frustration than pain, as tiny droplets of blood sprayed over the stone below, making the taste of blood in my mouth grow.

Kill her. Kill her.

She tried to kill you.

Find her.

Find her!

I’ll find her.

Kill.

“Kill her!” the words ripped out of my chest as I moved to crawl away, to find her in any way I could. My movements were stiff and fragmented while I tried to fight through the pain in my joints.

I hadn’t moved more than a few feet before their hands were on me again, and my eyes snapped open to the grey stone that lined all of the hallways of this retched place. It was tinted red from my own blood that still flowed through the gash in my head, drenching my hair and drying in rivers down my face. I looked at the red, at the window, at their hands, at a table that stood old and forgotten a few feet from us.