Ravage

  “I don’t believe that,” I whispered into Grandmama’s shoulder, “monsters are just looking for love, too. I know it deep down inside.…”

  “Kotyonok, why are you crying?” Valentin’s voice pulled me from my memory. I blinked when his face was blurred. A thumb wiped at my cheeks, and it was then I realized I was crying. I wiped at my eyes with my hands, only to see Valentin staring down. My memory came slamming back when I looked up at this Russian monster—his scar, his tattoos, his metal collar—my stomach dropped.

  What had happened to him to make him this way? Like the monster of Tbilisi, had he too been hurt and never loved?

  “Where have you come from?” I found myself asking, my quest for understanding trumping self-preservation.

  Valentin’s eyes narrowed, and he froze as my hand lifted to run along the metal collar. My eyes focused on the seam at the side of collar, the small lock that kept the collar in place.

  “Hell,” Valentin whispered almost inaudibly, “held by the Wraiths of evil.”

  My lungs constricted at the pain threaded in his voice, his words too cryptic for me to understand. Placing my hand on his face, I tilted his head until his gaze fell upon me. Swallowing, I said, “I am surprised I have not seen you before.” Lines marred Valentin’s forehead and his face showed nothing but confusion. Pulling his head down closer to mine, I finished, “I am surprised I have not seen you before, since I too have been a resident of hell for quite some time.”

  Valentin’s face lost its tension, and my heart swelled when he whispered, “Zoya.” He pressed the sweetest kisses to my mouth. My name on his lips sounded like heaven. It sounded utterly divine.

  Valentin shifted over my body, his thick thighs parting my legs. My heart pounded like a chorus of drums at the determined look on his face.

  A sweeping heat enveloped my body, as I suspected what was coming next. Just as Valentin inched his mouth toward mine, a hissing sound echoed through the silent room.

  In seconds, the veins in Valentin’s neck corded so tightly I feared they would break. His body froze, eerily still. Then I saw the collar contracting around his neck.

  “No,” Valentin cried. He launched himself from my body. Icicles of fear spiked in my veins as he jumped to his feet, his large hands gripping the sides of his neck tightly. Another hiss sounded from the collar, the sound now sinister to my ears. Valentin’s fingers fought at the collar, but his fingertips failed.

  I watched from against the wall, huddled at the top of the bed as Valentin’s neck bulged at the tightness of the metal choking his neck. My body trembled. Then with a loud roar, Valentin’s head snapped back and his muscled body corded, veins and muscles strained to their limit.

  His body shook. I swallowed when his length hardened and slapped against his torso. His hands balled into fists; then with a quick pained exhale he lowered his head.

  Dread infused my body when those dilated almost-black eyes set on me. I curled up in fear on the bed.

  The drugs had set in. The torturer had returned. No matter how hard Valentin tried to pretend he was not a vicious killer, this version of him, the man with black eyes, was the demon that kidnapped me.

  And it was that collar. It was something in that collar that forced him to be this, this … thing.

  Then he approached. He loomed before me and cracked the knuckles on his hand. “No,” I begged when he came closer. He stopped. My heart raced at the possibility that I’d gotten through to him.

  Shuffling farther forward, I said, “Valentin? Valentin? Can you hear me?” His head tilted to the side. A vain thread of hope took root in my chest.

  Then he looked up. When I followed what he was looking at, all blood drained from my body. The pulley. The pulley fixed to the ceiling above the bed.

  Suddenly he lurched forward, slamming me onto the bed, knocking the air from my lungs. In seconds, the pulley from above began to lower. The he was at my side, rope in his hands.

  My body shook, my lip quivered, but this man didn’t care. He reached forward and gripped the ankle of my leg. His breathing was heavy, sweat coating his skin. Whatever the collar was injecting into his body caused his skin to bump and grow damp.

  Pulling me to a sitting position, he spread my knees apart with his hand. Grabbing both wrists, he pulled my arms behind my back. I screamed out in pain at the unnatural position, but he ignored my cries. He wrapped the rope around my chest, just above my breasts. Next, with the rope around my chest, he tied my wrists and attached them to the pulley. He yanked on my arms, to check it was in place. I bit on my tongue to stop a cry leaving my mouth.

  I couldn’t move. I was stuck.

  This monster next wrapped rope around my thighs, tying it around the two posts on either side of the bed. Next came my ankles. He pushed them together, securing them to a post on the wall.

  I tried to move, but I could barely even flinch.

  He walked before me and, kneeling on the bed, harshly gripped my cheeks with his hand. Whipping my head to face him, he barked, “Who is Zaal Kostava to you?”

  Staring in his dead eyes, I steeled myself. This wasn’t Valentin anymore. This thing could not be bargained with. Could not be beat. I knew from recent experience that this version of Valentin hung around for an hour, two at most.

  I would have to endure his wrath.

  Taking a deep inhale, I closed my eyes and said, “I know no one by that name.”

  As I sensed his body moving closer to mine, I felt fingers palming my breasts. I prayed that the hour or two would go quickly. I prayed that Valentin would fight whatever control he was under.

  My teeth gritted as I fought for breath. His hands roamed everywhere. His touch was rough and unpleasant.

  There was no pleasure in this touch; pleasure wasn’t his intention.

  A strangled moan came from my mouth and another tore from my chest as his nose ran along the side of my neck. Then the monster knelt before me. I choked on a sob when his teeth dragged over my skin, down over my chest to my breasts. At my loud cry, he looked up. Reaching out his hand, he pushed the hair back from my face. When I pulled away, his grip fisted my hair, wrenching my head back. His face closed in, hovering an inch from my face. He demanded, “Who is Zaal Kostava?”

  I didn’t speak and he let my head drop.

  “Who is Zaal Kostava?” the monster asked again. I closed my eyes, refusing to speak at all. Then I felt him standing in front of me. “Open your eyes!” he ordered harshly. I did as he asked. I caught sight of his hard body before me, his manhood mere inches from my face. I lost all fight.

  The monster began palming his length, bringing himself closer to me with each stroke. When it was in line with my mouth, I fluttered my eyes to look up and almost sobbed at the determined expression on his face. His dilated eyes glittered in the dim light and he reached out to grip the back of my head.

  “Please, Valentin,” I said loudly, trying to break through whatever had him in its control. “Fight it. Don’t do this to me. Don’t hurt me. You don’t want to hurt me anymore.”

  His hand on his manhood stopped, and his head dropped to the side watching me. His darkened eyes studied me curiously. My heart beat faster. “Valentin?” I tried again. “Fight it. For me … Zoya.”

  The monster’s entire body suddenly stilled and I thought I caught a flash of recognition in his stare. But he took a step forward, gripping my hair in his hands. Tears fell down my cheeks and I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see his face as he took my mouth against my will.

  Then, on an abrupt deafening roar, the monster threw my head back back, his hands falling away.

  Opening my eyes, I shook my head, trying to clear the water from my eyes, when I saw him stumbling back. My heart beat furiously as I watched him gripping his head. Pained groans and growls emanated from his lips; then his hands moved to his collar.

  Hope soared within me as his fingers dipped below the slackening metal and he began to pull. The monster’s face reddened until his ent
ire body shook at his attempt to free himself from his collar. But no sooner had he attempted to rip off the collar than he gripped his head again, the pain obvious as he hit the side of his skull with a balled fist.

  He fell to the floor, and I waited expectantly to discover what he would do next. I prayed that when he eventually lifted his head I’d see bright blue eyes. But I wasn’t so fortunate. When the monster did raise his head, his pupils were still full and bleeding into the crystal blue irises. With fisted hands he pushed himself from the floor and approached.

  I swallowed at the expression of pure hate on his face and cried out when his hand slipped and slammed on the rope above me. His hand then dropped to my stomach and made its way to between my legs.

  “No,” I whispered.

  The monster’s fingers ran along the top of my pubic hair and he hissed, “Name.”

  It was strange, because even terrified, I noticed the difference between Valentin’s voice and the monster’s. The monster’s was colder, no feeling in its timbre. In contrast, in Valentin’s his subtle notes would change, the tone expressing his change in mood, his feelings, his regret.

  No sooner had those thoughts entered my mind than the monster pushed his fingers closer to my folds. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying whatever he would do next would be over quick. Then suddenly the monster’s hand stopped before he broached me. My eyes snapped open. I fought for breath as I panted through the fear. My attention was solely fixed on the monster, once again gripping his head, falling to the floor.

  His body jerked. Pained groans wrenched from his throat. Sweat poured from his body. Just like before, his hands lifted to the collar around his neck. His hands pulled and pulled at the metal ring caging his neck, until every muscle in his arms shook with the effort.

  He panted and panted, until his head lifted. Staring through me were crystal blue eyes. My heart pounded in relief, and managing to find my voice, I rasped, “Valentin.”

  Valentin shook his head. Then his unfocused eyes fixed on mine. I saw him drink me in. I saw his face contort on seeing me tied up. I winced when I imagined how I looked, strung up this way.

  A sudden gut-wrenching roar came from Valentin’s mouth and he jumped to his feet. He released his grip on the collar and walked to the chest at the side of the room. I held my breath, praying that the monster hadn’t regained control. When Valentin stood back up, he held a knife in his hand. My stomach fell as he approached, but when I saw his eyes were still crystal blue my heart jumped in relief.

  Valentin winced with every step he took toward me. I could see blood forming beneath the metal collar. Fear took hold of me when I realized skin underneath was torn.

  “Valentin,” I whispered when he was just feet away. Valentin’s jaw tensed, and lifting his arm high, he sliced at the rope above me. I cried out as the rope holding me captive jerked my body, the pain blanching my skin. But Valentin kept hacking at the rope; he hacked until, with a final strike, he cut through the rope and I fell to the bed. Finding strength through a desperate need to be free from my restraints, I unraveled the rope from my chest and arms and bit my lips at the pain of blood refilling my muscles.

  Seeing the knife abandoned on the bed, I reached forward and, with shaky arms, cut through the rope at my ankles. As soon as the rope snapped in two, I kicked it off my legs.

  Bending over the side of the bed, I vomited on the floor. Feeling light-headed from the fear I had felt, I rolled onto my side. When I looked up it was to see Valentin, back leaning against the nearby wall. His blue eyes were haunted and his arms shaking as he looked upon me.

  Zoya, he mouthed, shame shining in his now-clear eyes. I tried to speak, I wanted to, but his massive body began to shake. I watched as his lips thinned and his hands lifted to his collar. It was strange, but as Valentin began pulling at the metal collar, trying his best to rip it apart, his eyes were focused on my breasts. Not understanding what he was staring at, I managed to look down, only to see my skin covered in red teeth marks.

  A frustrated groan came from Valentin. He pulled at his collar, legs weakening with every attempt. Spatters of blood began spilling from under the restricting metal. As the collar pulled off his skin, inch by painful inch, I could see needles inserted into it.

  Seeing Valentin fall to his knees, the metal collar half hanging from his neck, I forced myself to move to the edge of the bed. I needed him to stop. His face was bright red with the effort to remove the collar, and capillaries were bursting in the whites of his eyes, red replacing the bright white.

  I had opened my mouth to shout for him to stop when, with a final broken bellow, the metal collar fell to the floor with a thud. I stared at the metal collar on the floor, the inner band of the device the most horrific thing I had ever seen. Tens of needles were standing, equally spaced around the edges. Beside them were small plastic pellets filled with liquid. Half were empty, but half were still full.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when it hit me that Valentin had removed the collar When I glanced up, Valentin was slumped against the wall, his hands holding the skin around his neck. His face had paled, but what had me pushing my bruised body from the bed was the blood pouring down his chest.

  Frantic in my movements, I staggered to where Valentin slumped. As I fell to my knees by his side, his dull eyes found mine. He moved his mouth to speak, but I shook my head.

  “No,” I whispered, “Don’t try to speak.”

  Reaching up, I pulled at his hand, and when it dropped free I swallowed hard. The needle holes around his neck were bleeding badly. A thick red scar appeared soldered on to his skin from where the metal collar had been. I knew that he must have been wearing that collar for years, Lord knows how long. Valentin opened his mouth to speak.

  “No,” I pushed firmly.

  Closing his eyes in obvious exasperation, he lifted his weak hand and pointed to a place in the wall. At first I couldn’t see what he was seeing. On closer inspection I glimpsed the outline of a door. Getting to my feet, I slowly made my way to the door and pressed on the shape. The door clicked open. Inside was a small bathroom. I nodded my head when I realized it was the bathroom he’d let me use since I’d been here. He’d always blindfolded me before I used the toilet, to add to the torture. So I didn’t know where I could go to relieve myself unless he took me there.

  My eyes had scanned the shower, the toilet, the basin, when they landed on a small closet door at the end of the room. I walked toward it, flinching as I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror. When I opened the door towels were piled high. Bottles of hydrogen peroxide were there, along with other medications I didn’t recognize.

  I grabbed some towels and peroxide and hurried as fast as I could out of the bathroom. As soon as I entered the chamber, I found Valentin’s eyes already watching me, his broad and bulking chest awash with blood.

  Getting on the floor, I immediately took a towel and pressed the soft fabric around his neck, trying to soak up as much of the blood as I possibly could. Valentin didn’t even flinch; instead he stared down at my breasts, his nostrils flared and his lips thinned.

  “I am fine,” I said.

  His eyes met mine. Nothing was said. I wasn’t convinced he could speak now anyway.

  Removing the towel, I took the bottle of peroxide and pressed my hand to his cheek. When he looked to me, I said, “This will sting, but we need to close up the holes around your neck. We need to stop the blood.” Valentin’s lifeless eyes never moved, even when I poured the peroxide over his cut and all around his neck.

  I winced, knowing how it must have felt. I re-covered the holes with a clean towel. I moved closer, my heart as bruised as my body, to take in the broken expression on his face.

  Valentin tracked me the entire way, but I could see his eyes closing. Dread and fear filled my aching bones. Touching his face, I said, “It’s gone, Valentin. You removed the collar from around your neck.”

  The black stubble on his face stood in stark contrast to the paling sallow ski
n beneath. My heart surged when his lips twitched, then pulled into a ghost of a smile. A strange feeling washed over my soul as I saw that smile on his savagely scarred and brutal face, but it quickly faded when Valentin’s eyes closed and his body grew frighteningly still.

  12

  VALENTIN

  “Where are they taking us?”

  I gripped Inessa tighter as the truck we had been thrown into started to move, taking us away from the orphanage that had been our home for the past two years.

  “I don’t know, dorogaya moya.”

  I blinked, trying to see something in the darkness of the truck, but I couldn’t make anything out. I could hear the cries of the other children the Night Wraiths had chosen, whom she had chosen. I could hear their sniffles and fast breathing.

  I closed my eyes, pulling my little sister toward me¸ stroking through her hair. I rocked her back and forth, sighing when her little body stopped shaking and she slumped against my chest.

  I worked on keeping still; I worked on breathing in slow and steady breaths. But the truth was, I was terrified. The woman who dressed all in black had ordered the Wraiths to bring us out to the truck. When the door opened, the back of the truck was filled with small cages.

  The blood drained from my face. I looked over to Inessa, who was being held by a Wraith. As he went to throw my sister in the back, she started screaming for me, holding out her hands.

  As I rammed my elbow into the Wraith that held me his hand released my neck, and I climbed in the van after my sister. The Wraith turned when he saw me running and held out his gun. It didn’t stop me. I kept going, seeing the Wraith remove the safety, when a cracking sound hit the wall of the van and the woman commanded, “Stop!” The Wraith holding my sister froze at the woman’s command. Heels clicked on the floor behind me, and something ran over my neck and into my long messy black hair.

  “Interesting reaction, don’t you think?” the woman said to the guard holding my sister.

  I suddenly saw what had been running through my hair when the woman hit out a whip toward the guard’s still-raised gun. The gun fell to the floor. Inessa cried out and tucked her head in the Wraith’s shoulder. My hands balled at my sides and my teeth gritted together as I saw my sister looking so small in that bastard’s arms.