Enlightened Hope

By V. K. Walker

Fact: Torq is a member of the Forsaken army, Briearie is an Illuminatus spy sent behind enemy lines.

Fact: It is her job to take down the Forsaken army.

Fact: It is his job to stop her.

Fact: She burns for him.

Fact: He has a nasty habit of threatening to kill her.

Fact: They stand on opposite sides of a line that neither one of them could cross.

Fact: The fate of the world is in her hands.

Fact: She doesn’t care. She still burns for him.

Problem: See last fact

• Language: English
• Publisher: V. K. Walker
• Release date: May 4, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310543470

V. K. Walker

Once upon a time – [No, no, no! Far too trite and, let's be honest, it's been done. Hit “pause”, “rewind”...] Many, many, many years ago – [Ack! That's even worse! What's with all the freakin' “many's”? It wasn't that long ago. Jeesh. Hit “stop”, “erase” (and don't ever do that again!)...] Not so very long ago (a piddling amount, in my opinion), a storyteller was born. One might even say, a fantasy weaver (oooh, I like that – kinda rolls off the tongue, dontcha think?). Hand in hand with her most trusted friend, an imaginary boy named Charlie (awww, I miss Charlie), she wove many a tale of aliens and evil clones who impersonated her elder brothers (for certainly she wasn't actually related to those wretched boys who teased and taunted her mercilessly) while growing up in Ontario, Canada. Even when Charlie faded away, she continued to live in her own fantasy world, telling her stories to her stuffed animals, and finally writing them down when she was old enough to know how. Later in life, she graduated from McMaster University, armed with degree in Psychology, with a minor in Anthropology. An avid fan of Paranormal Romances (werewolves and vampires and ghosts, oh my!), it was hardly surprising, then, that she decided to invent an entirely new species - Homo Illuminatus – to weave her fantasies around. Today, she continues to live (on the surface, at any rate – in her mind she's in another world entirely!) in Ontario, with her son (teenaged – need I say more?), an adorable (borderline evil, and most definitely psychotic) Ragdoll cat, and a sloppy (fragile and sensitive, big arsed) Dogue de Bordeau dog (who, sadly, is terrorized by the demonic cat).

Book preview

Prologue

Summer, 1936

His little legs pumping, he ran to catch up to his mother after having slowed to take a lick of the flavoured ice she’d gotten him. He was still beaming with pleasure from the cool sweetness on his tongue by the time he caught up to her. She never got him treats. Not once, in his very short life, did he even remember her doing anything nice for him. Had he been a little bit older, he might have realized that this strange behaviour might not be a good thing. But, at the age of seven, he didn’t know to be suspicious. Not yet. So, not knowing any better, he was just happy.

Turning a malevolent look in his direction when he slowed to take another delicious mouthful, his mother snarled, keep up, Torq, or I’ll take that thing away.

He hurried his pace again, barely listening to her mutterings about what a brat he was, and so on. He was so used to hearing them, the words barely registered anymore. Now, if those mutterings got louder, or if she looked at him in that way she so often did, then he’d pay attention. And get as far away from her as he could. And hide. Torq was good at hiding. He’d learned how to become small, smaller than a mouse, even smaller than a tiny bug. She couldn’t find him when he was smaller than a tiny bug, and he didn’t come out until his father came. His father wasn’t nice to him either, but at least he didn’t try to kill Torq. Nor would he let her do it.

But he let her kill everyone else. Torq knew better than to try and play with any kids his own age. Every time he did that, she killed them. Even when he snuck off and did it when she couldn’t see. She still found out, and they still died. Torq didn’t even talk to other kids anymore. Or adults. And there was no way he would dare to think of so much as looking at any puppies or kittens. It always made her laugh when she killed those.

Torq tried to slurp at his ice while he trotted beside her, making sure to keep up. This was the first time he’d ever had one, and he wanted to keep it. Wanted to enjoy every last drop. He didn’t dare ask her to slow down, despite the fact that he was now panting in his efforts to go as fast as she was. He knew better. He wouldn’t just loose his treat if he did, he’d feel pain. A lot of pain. And if he cried? Torq’s little body shuddered at what he knew would come then. No, Torq knew to keep his mouth shut, he wouldn’t even ask where they were going either. He just struggled to keep up.

Finally, when his legs were so achy he didn’t think he could go any further, his mother stopped in front of a big brown townhouse and looked up. Torq took a sip of his now melted ice. It wasn’t as good as it had been when it had been frozen, but it was still sweet. He didn’t ask her where they were, he didn’t say anything, just drank the juice and waited for her.

Come on, she hissed at him, just as he was slurping back the last drop, then made her way up the walk to the door.

Torq followed right behind. Up the walk to the door, through that door into the lobby, then up the stairs to another door. His mother smiled as she faced this door, and a shiver of fear ran up his spine. That was the same smile she’d made right before snapping the neck of a puppy he had made the mistake of playing with one day.

There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Torq, she told him, with an almost sing-songy voice, lifting her hand to knock on the door.

Torq swallowed, trying to get the lump in his throat to go away as he looked down at his shoes. His stomach hurt now, the fear of what was going to happen making it cramp. He could hear his own heartbeat pounding so fast in his ears. And his head felt weird. Bad weird. Like it always did when he had to make himself smaller than a bug, all the while praying that his father would find him before she did. He wanted to do that now. And he would have too, if he didn’t know that that would only make what was to come so much worse.

Hello? the woman who answered the door greeted, gracing Torq with a smile.

He looked away, trying to swallow that lump again as his eyes began to burn with the tears he couldn’t shed.

Hello, his mother replied in that sing-songy voice that twisted his gut.

Can I help you? The woman’s voice sounded confused.

His mother laughed. Just like she’d done with the puppy.

No.

And then he heard the woman scream. He couldn’t stop himself from looking then. The woman was now plastered to the ceiling, held there by his mother’s powers. Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, she shoved him into the apartment, slamming the door once she was also inside.

Torq, I’d like to introduce you to your father’s whore, she sneered, pulling his hair to force his head back so that he was looking at the woman who continued to scream as she flailed her arms and legs, trapped by an invisible hand against the ceiling.

The look of terror on the woman’s face, combined with the ear-splitting screams, had his stomach pitching, threatening to toss the flavoured ice back up again. Squeezing his eyes closed, Torq brought his hands up to cover his ears. His mother slapped him, hard, knocking him to the ground.

You will watch, she screamed. I want you to see what happens to whores!

Then his mother released her powers, crashing the woman to the ground with a sickening crunch. This time the scream that came from her wasn’t of fear, but of pain. Torq saw the blood and felt the ice he’d eaten start to come back up. Frantically swallowing, he forced it back down. He’d really liked it the first time he’d eaten it, but he didn’t want to have to eat it again. Which, he knew, was what would happen if he threw up. His mother would make him do it. Like she always did.

Walking over to the woman, his mother knelt down beside her, yanking her head up by the hair so that their eyes were level. You like fucking other women’s men? She was back to using the sing-songy voice again.

Sobbing hysterically, the woman tried to shake her head ‘no’, but his mother’s grip prevented her from moving it more than a little bit in either direction.

Standing, his mother hauled the woman up by the hair. He could tell she couldn’t stand on her own, one of her legs was bent in the wrong way. Only his mother’s grip kept her upright.

Oh, I think you do, she hissed. I think you like sucking his cock too. She pulled a knife, tracing it across the woman’s lower lip. Is that right? she asked. Do you like sucking his cock?

The woman stopped struggling at the contact of cold steel against her skin. The horrible noises she was making stopped too. Replaced by the quieter sounds she made in her throat as she tried to keep herself from getting cut. To Torq, these new noises were so much worse. It was all he could do sit there and watch, his arms wrapped around himself as he rocked back and forth. All he could do to not make a sound. To not cry. To not throw up. For both their sakes. His mother wouldn’t just hurt him, she would hurt the woman. So much more than she was going to anyway.

Pressing the flat of the blade against the woman’s lower lip, his mother pressed down, forcing her to open her mouth. Show us how you like to suck his cock, she sneered, making the blade go into her mouth to press down on her tongue.

Eyes wide with terror, the woman shook her head with small jerky movements.

I said show us, whore! his mother screamed, twisting the blade to slice the woman’s tongue as she viciously yanked on her hair.

The throat noises got worse as the woman closed her lips around the knife and began to make small sucking movements.

You like that don’t you? The sing-songy voice.

The woman closed her eyes tight.

Don’t you! Screeching now. Torq heard the sick sound of hair being wrenched from the scalp this time when his mother pulled.

The woman nodded, slowly, just a little bit.

That’s what I thought, his mother purred.

Flicking her powers, his mother tore the clothes from the woman’s body.

Touch yourself, she ordered.

Eyes flying open, she looked from his mother to him, then back again.

I want my son to see just what kind of whore his daddy likes to fuck, his mother sneered.

Her eyes widened even more as her gaze shot back to him. Then he saw the strangest flicker of something in them before the lids came down again, hiding them from him. For a moment, it looked as if she recognized him.

I said touch yourself! his mother screamed, jabbing the knife into the woman’s mouth.

The horrible throat noises got even worse. Then the woman placed the hand that wasn’t bleeding and twisted in the wrong direction on her stomach.

The knife went in just a little further. Is that how you touch yourself for your lover?

The hand quickly moved lower, her fingers disappearing between her legs.

Fuck yourself.

The hand began to move.

And didn’t I tell you to suck?

Her lips began to move.

His mother turned to look at him and Torq had to clench his teeth, swallowing back the burning in his throat.

Do you see what kind of filth your father likes to fuck, Torq?

He nodded, knowing that that was what she wanted him to do.

Then she yanked the knife from the woman’s mouth and plunged it into her heart. Torq slumped with relief. He had been a good boy. His mother was pleased with him. Otherwise, he knew, she would have hurt the woman more, cutting her up slowly, making her scream, before killing her. As she’d done so many other times, when he hadn’t been good.

He knew it was safe now to close his eyes and cover his ears as his mother continued to stab and slash at the woman, laughing in that scary way she did when she tore apart the bodies she’d just killed. When he opened his eyes again, the thing on the floor in front of him looked like a pile of bloody meat and bone. His stomach pitched. He had to use his ‘special thoughts’ to hold it back this time.

Mommy?

Torq’s head whipped to the side at the frightened sound that came from across the room. He wanted to scream a warning at the little girl in the rumpled white nightdress with little pink flowers on it, who was standing in the doorway.

‘Run’, he silently mouthed, but the word wouldn’t come out past the lump in his throat.

Run and hide, he silently begged. Make yourself tiny like a bug. But it was too late. His mother had already seen her. It felt like everything inside his body was being squeezed by a huge fist.

And then his mother smiled. And the fist squeezed even harder.

The high pitched scream ripped through his very soul as his mother flung the little girl across the room and pinned her to the wall. She kept on screaming, and each one felt like it was cutting up his insides.

His mother turned to smile at him again. Looks like your daddy spawned a filthy little vermin. Can’t let her grow up to be another whore, now can we?

He shook his head, his eyes silently pleading with her not to do it.

His mother took his movements to be agreement with what she’d said.

Good boy, she praised. The knife in her hand flew, embedding into the little girl’s shoulder, holding her to the wall like a butterfly stuck on a pin.

No! The word was ripped from his throat as he scrambled to get up, despite knowing what the consequences for his misbehaviour would be.

His mother slammed him back with her powers, cracking his head against the wall. Making his nose bleed.

Never help Sapien scum! she shrieked at him, pulling another blade and hurtling it into the girl’s other shoulder.

The screaming from the little girl was deafening now, hurting his ears.

Torq tried to get up again. It didn’t matter how much she was going to hurt him, he had to do something. He had to help this little girl. He didn’t know why, but something inside him wouldn’t let him just sit and watch this time. Even though he knew it would only make things worse.

The twisted smile his mother gave him then turned his blood to ice.

You want to help her? The way she asked him, her voice cruel yet sweet at the same time, made his heart pound in his throat.

Torq didn’t dare say a word. He didn’t dare to even breathe.

Turning, his mother walked slowly over to the kitchen area of the room and began opening drawers. The smile that lit up her face when she found what she was looking for brought the burning in his throat back. Reaching in, she pulled out another knife. One of those ones with teeth that he’d seen people use to cut bread. Then she walked over to the little girl. Ignoring her crying screams, she ripped open the nightie. Torq cried out again as her arm arched up to plunge the knife with all her strength, but she embedded it into the wall this time. Right between the little girl’s legs. Just below her naked girl-parts. With the teeth facing up.

So, help her, she told him, stepping back.

Then the knife began to move, sawing back and forth as it slowly cut through the plaster. Going up.

Torq ran across the room, grabbed the closest knife in the girl’s shoulder and pulled on it with all his might. Nothing happened. His mother laughed. He tried using his ‘special thoughts’, focusing all his energy on the knife as he tried to pull it out with both his hands and his powers. It wouldn’t budge. His mother laughed louder. The little girl continued to cry and scream, ripping apart his insides.

And then the screams changed. Torq didn’t think they could have gotten louder, but they did. The sound terrified him. Looking down, he saw blood on the toothy knife and the fist inside him clenched even harder. He tried to grab onto it, to stop what his mother was doing to her, but she pulled it out further that time, slicing open his hands. His mother laughed even louder. He heard the sick sound of the knife sawing into bone. The screams got even worse.

Time froze as Torq’s heart seemed to stop beating, his lungs no longer capable of pulling air into his body. In that instant he knew. He couldn’t save her. There was nothing he could do to stop what his mother was doing to her. All he could do was stop her from feeling it.

Looking up into those terrified tear filled eyes, glazed with unbearable pain, eyes that looked exactly the same as the ones he saw in the mirror every day, Torq wrapped his little hands around her throat. And squeezed.

I’m so sorry, he whispered, the tears he never allowed to fall in front of his mother now streaming down his face. I’m so sorry…

He continued to stare into those eyes until the screaming stopped. Until he heard the last thump of her heart fade away. Until her body stopped moving for the last time. Until his sister was dead.

I’m so sorry, he breathed again, still staring into those glazed, terror filled, now lifeless eyes.

His entire body spasmed, dropping him to his hands and knees as his stomach began to heave up its contents. His mother was laughing so hard she was holding her sides with it. He barely noticed. He couldn’t stop throwing up. Over and over his body wretched. Even after every last drop of the flavoured ice he’d so enjoyed was spewed on the floor of the apartment. His stomach still continued to lurch. Even after his mother left, laughing all the way out of the building. And still he continued to vomit. For what felt like hours. Until spent and drained, he collapsed face first into the mess he’d made.

He lay there for the longest time, staring sightlessly at the now open door, his head filled with too many thoughts, yet none at all. All he could hear was a strange buzzing inside his mind.

She’d left him there. Alone. Again. This was nothing new, she did it all the time. And he’d always run after her when she did. Sometimes he even caught up with her. Sometimes he had to wait, alone, terrified, until his father finally came and found him. This time…?

When Torq was finally able to stand, he got up and left the room, not looking at either of the victims his mother had left in her wake. When he got to the street, he looked back at the way they’d come when they’d first arrived. Torq turned and walked the other way.

Chapter 1

Present day

Briearie strode into the compound with long, angry strides, her whole being emitting serious ‘fuck off’ vibes. Fortunately, she didn’t have to work very hard to maintain her cover today. In the mood she was in, she fit in perfectly with the local populace. Crazy-assed psycho’s one and all. Murderers, rapists, and all round nut-jobs. The sickest of the sick. Forsaken. Shitloads of them, all gathered in one place. Like a Manson family reunion gone horribly wrong.

Oh, joy.

With her F.O. vibes still holding strong, most of the fucktards in her path had the good sense to back the hell off, giving her a wide berth as she stormed past them. A few of the not so bright ones – although there weren’t many bright ones, hell, judging by what she’d seen so far there weren’t any – had the temerity to leer at her, one of them going so far as to make sickening lip-smacking noises at her.

Idiot.

She had half a mind to kick his dumb sorry ass ‘til he cried for his mommy. Then, just for the hell of it, kick it some more. Instead, she manifested an energy barrier at his crotch, fisted it and twisted ‘til he dropped to the ground screaming like a little girl. Yup, she was definitely fitting in today. Briearie was pissed.

She was just coming back from doing recon, where she’d run into another damn brick wall. Actually, it was worse than a brick wall, she could get through a brick wall. Or over it, or under it, or even around it. What she couldn’t get through was the holy-crap-on-a-spitting-camel energy barrier that surrounded this freak-show of horrors that they had the audacity to call an army compound. Hell, comparing that thing to a brick wall was like comparing the Titanic to a kayak. Not only was the thing massive, completely surrounding the entire compound, and impenetrable – she’d never seen the like - it was also anchored. To the leader of this circus from hell. If she so much as farted in its general direction, the sick old bastard would know about it. Then she’d be screwed. More than she already was.

Following a tip, from the most insane source imaginable – seriously, they were following the advice of the Wraith? The most brutal killer on the planet? – the Taha’an had decided to send a spy to Leemington, Ontario, with the hopes that said spy would be able to infiltrate the Forsaken army that had been amassing for about a year. Briearie had volunteered to be said spy. So, with two days’ worth of slap-dash training under her belt, Briearie had broken the bond to Taha’an and followed the Wraith’s advice, making her way to Leemington, where she’d strutted around like she was off her meds, wreaking as much havoc as she dared without actually crossing that fine line into actual Forsakendom. She’d been picked up by one of the army’s scouts within 72 hours. Not bad, if she did say so herself.

Then came the tricky part. They’d transported her to the compound in the back of a van with the windows blacked out, that they’d rigged to emit some nasty, screwed-up energy field that made her external senses feel like they were breakdancing to mariachi music. So she had no idea where they had driven, or even for how long. It had felt like hours, but considering the fact that she had been in a creepy dark van, surrounded by even creepier Forsaken, hell, even 30 seconds would have felt like hours. Which meant that she now found herself in parts unknown, completely unable to get word out to her people, and no clue, whatsoever, how she was going to pass on any Intel she learned while she was here.

And, boy, did she ever have some Intel! As in, holy-nuns-on-a-circus-scooter-you-ain’t-gonna-believe-this-shit kinda Intel. Moreus was alive. Moreus, the most nefarious, psychotic, super-freak genius Forsaken to have ever walked the earth, believed to have been killed over 40 years ago, Moreus. Was. Still. Alive. And that wasn’t even the half of it. Somehow, and it was now her job to find out exactly how, he had managed to increase his powers exponentially, making him the most powerful Illuminatus on the planet, next to Taha’an, of course. He couldn’t even come close to being as powerful as Kayala, but still, he had to be at least a hundred times more powerful than the next runner up, if not more. Which was a very bad thing. Very, very, very bad. Because he was the leader of the Forsaken army, and besides Kayala, nobody could touch him. The Communes could send out every damn Hunter in North America en masse, and this new super-villain Moreus could blow them all away with merely a thought. Which, obviously, didn’t bode well for the future of mankind. Either Sapien or Illuminatus.

Yeah, ‘bad’ didn’t even begin to cover it.

Turning into the centre of the compound where most of the Forsaken ‘soldiers’ boarded in shack-like shotgun houses that reminded her of what she imagined old coal mine shanty’s of days gone by would have looked like, Briearie began to make her way towards her own personal slice of corrugated tin hell, when she came up short, suddenly stopping in her tracks.

Storming through the compound from the other direction, emitting his own F.O. vibes – although, she had to admit, his were far nastier and scarier than hers were – was Him. Okay, so she knew his name, but she couldn’t help but always think of him as Him, complete with a full blown contemptuous sneer when she thought it. The same contemptuous sneer she could feel pulling at her features at that very moment. The biggest, baddest fucktard of them all. Torq, AKA Him.

Every single Forsaken in his path scurried away like rats, making her sneer in contempt at them too. They acted like he was the Anti-Christ for shit sakes. Okay, she had to admit, that analogy wasn’t far off the mark. Moreus was about as close to Satan as you could get, which would make Torq, the son of Moreus, about as close as you could get to the Anti-Christ.

But, seriously people, he’s just a man.

A scary as you could possibly imagine man, but a man nonetheless. No dark prince from the fiery depths of hell, just flesh and bone like the rest of them.

Briearie glared at him with derision as he strode through the middle of the shanty/shack rows of houses, wishing him all manner of ill fates, which, thankfully, he couldn’t hear through her highly advanced shields, as he scattered the Forsaken minions he passed. Or could he? Forcing back the gasp of shock – okay, she admitted it, and fear…she wasn’t stupid – she managed to maintain her look of hatred as he came to a halt, slowly turning to face her square on.

Briearie had always known that there was something just not right about her. That her head was screwed on the wrong way or something, but what happened in that moment that their eyes connected shocked the shit out of even her. Locking onto those intense icy eyes of his, that were neither blue nor green, or even aqua for that matter, eyes that made her think of waters surrounding some Carribean island that someone had somehow flash-frozen, Briearie felt her entire body suddenly burst into flames of desire.

Oh, not right. Seriously, not fucking right.

What in the hell was wrong with her? She felt as though she had just been kicked in the stomach by a mule. A sick, twisted, also not right in the head, mule.

Panic rushed into her right on the heels of the oh-so-unwelcome feelings of intense lust for a man she loathed with every fibre of her being. What if he somehow sensed what she was feeling? What if he had somehow broken through her shields? What if…? Briearie stopped herself right there. Panicking would only get her screwed, and not in a good way. Tamping down on all the feelings swirling through her, she forced herself to remain stoic in her outward despisal of him, and flashed him the bird. Which, perhaps, wasn’t the brightest of ideas.

Before she could even blink, and a few seconds later she was going to seriously wish she had gotten in one more blink, a blade suddenly appeared just millimetres in front of her left eye. Damn he was fucking scary. Okay, time to reassess her earlier scorn of the other minions. They had every right to shit bricks every time they encountered this man. She hadn’t even seen him move, yet somehow he’d pulled a knife and flung it at her so freaking fast it had seemed to just materialize in front of her, as if by magic. At least she could be thankful he had amazing control, stopping it just short of embedding in her eye. An eye she didn’t dare blink or she’d no doubt lose at least half her lashes.

Unlike the rest of the snivelling Forsaken, however, Briearie was not about to cower and scurry like a rat for any man. Not even this one. Glaring past the blade, she mentally chanted I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, praying that her mantra overrode the hot and yummy feelings coursing through her. Oh, please, let him see the loathing. Please, please, please don’t let him get even a hint of what was really going on inside of her. But the longer she stared into those amazing eyes, the more she burned. Holy crap, he was burning her with his deep-freeze eyes. In a really good, but oh so wrong, kinda way. Between her thighs was on fire. Hot, wet, pulsating with need. And her nipples! What was up with that? They were throbbing in time with the pulsating between her legs. Like he was setting off some kind of hot jungle beat inside of her that only she could hear and it thrummed with aching need.

Oh, yeah, there was something seriously wrong with her. She had to wonder if she didn’t actually belong in this hell-hole of a cesspit. If having a man threaten to kill her turned her on like this? What in the hell did that make her? She had to put a stop to this. Right freaking now. Not wanting to back down and show weakness, but unable to stand the pressure anymore, Briearie took a step back, blinking with relief. Her eyes were dry and burning, grateful for the reprieve, but that wasn’t what caused those feelings of relief. Once she’d backed off, he’d nodded with satisfaction – jerk – pulled back the knife, then turned away, striding off in the direction he’d been heading before the crazy what-was-I-thinking showdown had started.

Breaking the connection.

Breaking the spell.

Oh, her body still thrummed with wanting him, but at least now her usual ‘I hate your fucking guts’ feelings were back in full force, thankfully smothering the ‘I want you pounding into me all night long’ feelings that had reared their ugly heads. And here she’d thought things were bad an hour ago.

Super-villains bent on world domination took a serious backburner to what she was feeling now. Not that she could actually pinpoint what those feelings were. Dazed and confused? Yup, there was a whole lotta that going on. Scared to death? Absolutely, put a check beside that box. Oh, and let’s not forget horny. Check, check, and double check.

Crap.

Talk about screwed. Oops, bad choice of words there!

Gathering her wits about her, she started back on the path she’d been on before she’d found her way into that nasty little shitstorm, completely ignoring all of the gape-mouthed stares of the morons around her. Until she caught a glimpse of one particular stare. Chancing a quick peek out of the corner of her eye, Briearie clamped her teeth against the flood of pure fear. Kaul was standing not twenty metres off to her right, arms crossed in front of her, eyes narrowed in evil speculation as she watched Briearie head for her quarters.

Oh shit.

This was bad. Very, very bad. Not only was she Torq’s mother. Not only was she the bonded partner of Moreus. She was also the most psychotic, twisted, evil bitch Briearie had ever had the misfortune of meeting. Torq may be scary, but this bitch was the stuff of nightmares. He’d just kill you if you pissed him off. She would make you wish you were dead. Just for the fun of it. That was the one person on earth Briearie never wanted looking in her direction. Like she was right freaking now.

Way to go, dumbass, she chastised herself as she hauled open the door to her current living space. Piss off the scariest man alive, then draw the attention of his even scarier mother. Who gets the award for most shit-for-brains bumblefuck of the year? Raising her hand – since she was now out of sight of everyone else and nobody could see her ridiculous theatrics – I do, I do! That’s right Bob, give the girl her prize! And if she was lucky, that prize would only be a stiletto to the brainstem. Unless it was the crazy bitch handing it out. Briearie shuddered at the very thought of what it would be then.

She had to figure out a way to get out of this damn place. Like, yesterday. Not only was the Intel she possessed vital to the war between the Communes and the Forsaken army, but she suspected that if she didn’t get out now, she never would. Which would seriously suck. Tomorrow she would find another excuse to go exploring. She had to find a weakness in the barrier around this place. There had to be one. There just had to. Otherwise she was fucked.

Briearie groaned as an image of Torq’s face flashed in her mind. Speaking of fucked…