Emerge: The Captive: (Book 3)(4)

For so long, his days had been the same monotonous torture. Almost predictable. But Quinn knew from experience that sudden changes were never good. Whatever they had in store for him next, it wouldn’t be an improvement to his current situation.

“We’re done here.” Ryan lifted the branding iron from Quinn’s shoulder. “Never forget what that mark means, Quinn. You belong to Soma. Whether you want to accept that or not doesn’t matter.”

Not for the first time, Quinn thought about giving them what they wanted. Submitting would be so easy and he had such little reason to keep fighting anymore. Quinn honestly didn’t know if he had it in him to remain true to the person he wanted to be, or if he would finally succumb to the darkness he’d always known was inside him.

“Has he cracked at all?” Livia’s cold voice pulled Quinn from his thoughts.

I hate that woman. His aching hands coiled into fists beneath him. He got to his feet, determined not to let her see him wallowing on the floor like an animal. Quinn’s knees buckled the same moment he remembered the blistering burns on his feet. He settled for sitting on the floor with his back against the rough brick wall.

“Hasn’t cracked yet, but he will,” Michael assured her.

“You’ve wasted too much time already. Your methods clearly aren’t working. Clean him up and bring him to my suite. It’s my turn.”

~~~

“Get him on his feet,” Ryan said, snapping his fingers at the two goons who followed him everywhere.

Michael’s version of cleanup was hosing Quinn off and sending him on his way in the same tattered t-shirt and jeans he’d worn for weeks. The gashes on his back oozed blood and pus, crusting over and making what was left of his shirt stick to his wounds. His shoulders were on fire now that his arms were free from the cuffs. He cradled his wrists against his chest, his stomach churning at the sight of the flesh hanging loosely around the bone.

As the guards shoved him out of the cell, the blisters on his feet burst, but Quinn was determined to walk out of this place on his own.

“Pick up the pace. I don’t have all day,” Ryan said.

Quinn’s feet grew numb as he attempted to follow Ryan along the silent corridor. He made it about ten steps before he fell, his head cracking against the polished concrete floor. Ryan simply snapped his fingers and the two Soma guards jumped to pick him up. They dragged Quinn into the elevator and up to the top floor of Sterling Tower—Livia’s penthouse suite—where Quinn had spent his first night at Soma with Santi.

Santi. He’d often thought about the girl who slept on Livia’s floor, tethered to the Immortal who controlled her power. Has she held on all this time? Santi showed him the ropes that first night—what little she knew then. She was a volunteer. She came to Soma under false pretenses after an “interview” with Livia. He’d struck her as na?ve, but he quickly saw how determined she was to survive this predicament on her own terms. He was both eager to see if she was still there and dreading it, hoping she’d been a figment of his imagination and not caught up in the horrors of this place.

“Liv’s not going to go easy on you,” Ryan said as the guards left them in the vestibule outside Livia’s apartment.

Quinn sagged against the wall, smearing blood and grime on the expensive wallpaper. He’d likely pay for that once she saw the mess.

“Pain is the easiest and often most efficient route to forcing a new recruit to see that total submission is the only way. But for stubborn people like you, pain doesn’t work. She will try other means to get what she wants. And she will get it. You need to ask yourself if it’s worth the price.”

“Worth it? My free will is worth enduring anything,” Quinn said. It hurt to speak. He had distant memories of a broken jaw, but that was months ago. His face still ached—like there was permanent damage to the bones that had never healed properly. But if Ryan was right and the pain was at an end, Quinn could salvage what was left of his willpower and soldier on.

“My brother is talented in many ways. The reality of that is going to hit you hard, Quinn. She’ll use that against you.”

“Why bother with the pep talk?” Quinn glared at him.

“Not everyone here is as soulless as they may seem. Not even Livia. My brother … he enjoys his job, but I find it disgusting.” Ryan rang the doorbell and returned to the elevator.

“And your job? Do you find that disgusting too?”

“I find it bearable,” Ryan said. “Good luck, Quinn. You’re going to need it.”

The elevator doors closed, leaving Quinn alone for the first time in ages. He turned at the sound of footsteps inside the apartment. The door cracked open, revealing a green-amber eye through the slit. Santi. She’s still here. He had a sudden urge to hug her and weep on her shoulder. But as she opened the door, he saw how the years had taken their toll. Her face was gaunt with purple-black circles under her hollow eyes, like she hadn’t slept since he’d seen her last. Santi was on the edge of losing her fight.

“Come with me. You don’t have much time before she arrives.” Santi pulled him inside and closed the door behind them. She limped as she hurried to the kitchen, dragging an elegant silver chain behind her. Santi’s right foot was shackled, the magnetized metal rubbing her ankle raw, letting the poison leach into her bloodstream slowly. The angry scabs along her calf indicated she was rarely without the restraint. Her tether, anchored somewhere within the penthouse, extended and retracted with her movements. She seemed to have the run of most of the rooms, but he wondered how long she’d been cooped up in this apartment.