Prince in the Tower: Royal Scales, #4

By Stephan Morse

Jay's memories come rushing back with a vengeance. He's not simply recalling what happened, but reliving it, secrets and all. To make matters worse, Jay's at Atlas Island, Western Sector's prison for race crimes, and it has the potential to be a one way trip. Atlas Island is the last chance at redemption for those too violent to be allowed in a civilized society.

Old debts, past allegiances, and new friends all have a part to play as Jay and his companions work to survive. Like Jay, Atlas Island houses its own secrets, and they may turn out to be bigger and more dangerous than Jay could ever imagine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephan Morse
• Release date: Nov 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386860938

Stephan Morse

Stephan Morse was born the year 1983 in San Diego. The next fifteen years were spent slowly escaping California and surviving a public education system. Thus far he's made it to the Seattle (WA) region with little desire to go further. When not trying to shove words together into sentences Stephan spends time reading, catching up on sleep, and otherwise living a mundane life.

Book preview

1

Runt

Ahead of me was a mouth framed by black feathers and slobber, glinting with giant teeth larger than my body. Its immense cheeks pulled in a snarl.

Go away! the mouth roared. A blast of air pushed me back. Or I’ll gobble you up!

Try it! I shouted, and ran screaming at the monster.

The monster roared. It rushed forward then vanished into a puff of feathers. I slowed, finding nothing to slam against.

Feathers continued to spin as they fluttered, giving way to a new scene. In the middle of what had been a giant monster’s face was a large crow. It shook and hopped to the side.

I raised an eyebrow while huffing.

One day you’ll break free, the raven said in a familiar and foreign voice. It cawed, scratched the ground, and hopped.

This was a voice I knew, but couldn’t quite place. It felt like a memory but at the same time, I was living the moment.

My charms cannot hold back the hurricane of your mind forever, the raven said. Female, then it hit me where I’d seen that shade of black before. It was Muni, but she’d never looked like an outright bird.

I could almost remember her changing shape, like a wolf might, but the recollection slipped away. The bird’s face blurred but I could make out feathers intermingled with strands of jet black hair. A pale set of features appeared, with nervous eyes.

My head banged against something solid.

When the trinket wears off— The phrase stuttered and repeated. Feathers abruptly lifted then flew in all directions, blocking portions of my sight. Her body was buried under the swirl of feathers.

My head banged against the material from before. Other noises teased the edge of my senses. A third bang shattered the memory of Muni’s warnings. Strange sensations flooded in, nothing like the ones I’d been feeling a moment ago.

My eyes unwillingly opened. I hadn’t realized they were closed. An indistinguishable sensation jostled me repeatedly. Words were being said in a frantic whispering I couldn't make out. My thoughts ran askew from the sane.

I felt beyond exhausted. The tank was empty and fumes ran out miles ago. Parents of triplets exist for years at this level. Lawyers working extensive cases suffer through. Students working two jobs and a full course load deem it worthwhile. This was the price for my actions.

Every race had a price for their abilities that put them beyond the pale of normal humans. That was the balance imposed in the eons gone by. I'd never thought to ask why we had downsides, or who had imposed them.

Was it God, perhaps?

Come on! a male shouted.

We must escape. We can’t be caught here. You know where they’ll send us! a second man who sounded exactly the same responded from a different direction.

Atlas is a death trap, the first replied.

My senses tried to get a feel for the world and kept falling apart. Their terse words bounced around, hitting different objects. Voices mashed against unfamiliar materials. My eyes were open, seeing images, but I had no idea how to quantify the actions about me. Bright lights flickered behind us which hurt my eyes.

Why couldn't I have an easier price? Wolves had strength, reactions, and regenerated quicker than a human. They could communicate with their pack members. In exchange they had feral instincts to control coupled with an overriding need for hierarchy and leadership. Their biggest weakness was a fatal allergy to silver. No worse than peanuts in today's society.

Father's waiting! Do you need help, runt? one of the duplicate voices yelled.

No! a strained sounding younger person answered. The word originated next to my head. I couldn’t piece together the sensation of being jostled with their locations.

Someone carried me. That’s why we jostled around. I struggled to lift any limb and gain some control. The world spun, my eyes rolled and started to close again. Grogginess plagued me. I'd be dead asleep right now if given a choice.

Vampires had it much better. They were able to taste the air and see in complete darkness. Each one could be nearly serpentine in their grace with an alien allure that drew humans to their presence. Agelessness, speed, and the ability to ignore mental limitations on strength were all attractive. Their price was simple in its rules; a high chance of dying upon conversion and the constant thirst for fresh blood.

Over here! It's clear! the farthest twin said. That made three people, at least, around me. The youngest carried me. The twins spoke with sharp cracks of noise. Their words echoed and demanded attention.

In the background hounds bayed. Not wolves, but real live dogs. They were on the hunt. Their howls and yips got stuck in a loop of thought which played over and over until one of the twins shouted, Dogs!

Go! the younger male carrying me responded.

Don't order us, runt! one of the twins yelled. My eyes could barely see the edge of a large set of teeth jutting upward but nothing else about the face stood out.

I am still your brother, afford me some respect!

He’s right. We must run while we can! the twin said.

Their words garbled and mushed together. They were clear, but my mind told me how they sounded was a lie. My mind was muddled but they reminded me of Roy, the bouncer at Bottom Pit.

I will escape or face punishment with honor! the young one carrying me insisted.

Even the hurdles elves handled seemed downright cheery in comparison. Facing a nearly crippling addiction might be doable. Surviving their strange customs with each other, the constant games of leadership and successions, or house politics that stretched out over centuries could be done. It'd be worth it for their grace, the communion with nature, an extended lifespan, or potentially casting illusions.

Around me, tree branches bent and snapped. The sound of shouts, dogs, and gunfire continuously crawled through the terrain. Above, a large metal object subdued the laws of gravity with force. Air crashed in waves as blades spun.

Instead of something sane, something normal, I was stuck with different burdens. My gifts were tracking, strength, and speed. The latest trick was turning into a giant fire breathing creature and grumbling at lowly peasants. The price was falling asleep at the worst possible time. What else was there? How many things about my very nature were tied to the race I belonged to? Then the question hit me; hadn't my father taught me better?

The surroundings slowly made more sense. My world was sideways, almost inverted because I was hanging over another person's shoulders. My eyes rolled shut as waves of sleepiness tried to drag me back to the blissful silence my body desperately needed. Someone ahead ran a path through the trees. They looked like a rhino charging past brush when we should be led by a panther.

One leg hurt still from being shot by Daniel. Muscles along my side and chest bounced against huge shoulders. Bruises ached along with fresh scrapes from the trees. Near misses of gunfire left nasty trails of red on a flopping forearm. There were wounds in too many places to keep track of.

I attempted to view the face of the man carrying me. It was impossible to make out completely. His body was large and barrel chested with a tattoo wrapped around the far shoulder.

Runt. I fumbled the word.

The figure ignored me, chose an escape route, and bounded off again. Behind us the sound of pursuit increased. Overhead something shining intense lights down through the trees kept our position obvious.

Leave me, I managed to speak.

That tattoo meant he was one of Roy's boys. He had three sons, tiny creatures growing rapidly, only that was then and this was now. They were no longer small boys on the verge of being giants. My mind drifted, thinking of the trees during one moment, then smashing together random bits of the past.

Julianne's face was almost a blur now. A year later and I could barely remember it. Her footsteps were always light. The curve of her brow had been a solid line of thin and plucked hair that formed whenever she got confused. She had brown eyes that turned amber from the side.

Brother! one of the two ahead shouted.

You go! Tell Father! the man carrying me responded.

We will, the other twin said. I sleepily called up the other name for him, One of Two, my other mind had called him. Or Two of Two. Hell, I was losing focus again and struggled to control my thoughts into a coherent line. Instead, my mind got stuck trying to remember how to count past three without using my fingers.

We have you surrounded! Cease and surrender! an artificially loud voice said. I wondered if God sounded as demanding as the person floating above us inside the creation of metal.

Black spots appeared. The image burned through like wallpaper burning away to reveal an old layer. Feathers wove into the empty spaces. When my eyes closed an image of Kahina appeared in the blank spots, a snippet of time before we parted. We were happier then. I stared at nearly ruby eyes. Julianne smiled and looked at us from the side. Both were half drunk and someone had just told a terrible joke. Only Julianne was dead now.

The memory shattered, leaving behind the oppressive battering air of our helicopter pursuit. Whoever carried me sounded ragged. His breath came in short gasps. He had an extra two hundred and fifty pounds slung over his shoulder, getting this far was a miracle.

This was a terrible idea. My attempted rescuer sounded upset at himself. His head constantly whipped side to side. Our path took a sudden turn to the side, breaking away from the other two we'd been running behind.

Other moments passed through in flashes. Most of them made perfect sense until I paid attention. Nothing clicked right.

Halt! the man from above yelled.

I felt guns being grasped and adjusting to point in our direction. Their distinctive sound caused our frantic escape to cease.

The person carrying me backed up, then tried to put up his hands into the air. He dropped me to the ground without the slightest kindness for my situation. I slowly rolled to my back, not because I'd wanted to, exhaustion and gravity were winning.

I finally saw a clear face to the person who had been carrying me. It was Roy’s youngest child. His name hit me, along with half a dozen other flashes of the past that had been buried. There were too many forgotten aspects of my life that were working to the surface at once.

Leo, I labeled him.

Other moments flooded by as my eyes tried to focus. Things surfacing were both pointless and vital to the man I was. Bits of the past that defined my actions, giving me reason for what was happening.

Turn around! Someone's voice pelted the area again, amplified to an unreasonable level.

Leo turned slowly, looking down at me, his face a mess of dirt and grime. There were leaves in his clothes and hair along with piles of mud on his boots.

My eyes rolled back as two grown figures tried to tackle Leo to the ground. I almost managed a smirk as I watched the runt resist them. A third figure joined in and their combined weight forced the tiny hulk down. His face planted unkindly next to mine. I tried to watch him. Tried to give him some iota of respect for his defiance and attempted rescue.

But retaining consciousness proved too much. The world went black, as it too often did.

2

To Kill a Monster

Gravity pulled my body in one solid direction, revealing that I was on my back. The darkness won out and my mind stayed unfocused. Still, I saw the past. Images spun by containing facets of life that had been obscured by Muni's trinket.

Muni was someone I barely understood. She was old. Older than any elf or vampire I’d ever met. The woman modified peoples’ memories like other people could mold clay. Mine had been locked away under layers of misdirection coupled with misleading truths, until I pulled off the bracelet.

My mind latched onto a solid chunk of time, one that taunted me. Kahina and I had a rough relationship. It felt like forever ago since we'd met in Julianne's house during a messed up intervention. Each of us presented our side of the story but we'd both been wrong and right. I could almost see all of it but needed to keep piecing the memory together.

It was like a puzzle. Jumbled bits joined to form an incomplete picture that steadily filled in. Then the final pieces clicked and the present faded. Instead, I relived a historical moment of my life.

Kahina and I stood in the basement of my small home. Her being down there stood against all the prior memories of my mind. The recollection came with a shaky gut and arms moving like lumps of lead. This had been a rough point in our history and no longer did Muni’s trinket obscure it.

You can't do this, Jay! Kahina plead. We'd been fighting and even partially turned she cried bloody tears which made her face a frightful mess. She tried to cover up the weakness with her ice queen expression.

I busied myself getting ready for a long trip. I wanted to do what was best for all involved. Doing so caused her to cry again because of me, especially in the weeks preceding this memory. Tears were too common at that stage of our relationship.

I have to. You're in danger, I responded while packing a bag. Clothes were being shoved into the duffle and the contents of my basement home checked repeatedly for items worth taking.

I'll survive! We'll survive this! You can't just leave, not now. Kahina's words followed me as I whirled around the room. We were in my bedroom. We'd been down here because it was the most secure place I knew, and yet wasn’t safe enough.

They'll kill you, I said.

I'm not some weak damsel!

Look! I grabbed my cheap phone off the dresser and held it up. On it was a picture someone had texted me. It'd been taken while she was comatose, during the day. Next to her head was a knife and cross as a clear threat. Kahina had been defenseless.

Kahina knocked away the phone in disgust. She said, You're just giving in! Doing what they want!

And what other options are there? I turned suddenly and crossed the few steps to her. My gaze stared down into eyes that held a hint of red fire; burning embers in a dim room. They were everything because they were hers.

I'll use my connections, hire people, and get better security. I'll need them anyway to survive the change. She tried to reason with me by repeating the same argument we’d been having.

While she made her plans, I made mine. I had already steeled myself to separate the two of us. Kahina and I would part until the danger had cleared. Once they won the shadow war, I’d be free to resurface.

That’s not enough. That's you. I gestured to the fallen phone while trying to keep my voice stable. No protection. A knife away from death. Because of me! Because of what I am! I can’t make you give up your life and everything your father left you. I don’t want you to give it up and run away with me either.

I did. I still did. My chest ached and breathing hurt.

I would, she said.

You can’t. If we stay like this the world will burn, I responded. That’s what happens. That’s what happens every time someone like me cares enough. We die upon the blade of a knife, or burn ourselves out in a rage. Either way, everyone dies.

You’re foolish. This isn’t the dark ages.

Kahina stupidly ignored the substantial threat on her life. I remembered wondering, ‘why would she bother for me?’ My vices were many; I drank too much, fought everything that moved, gambled, and got angry easy. Even the past versions of Jay had been rather unsavory. Kahina Rhodes deserved better. But at the same time letting her go felt impossible, she was mine.

In my memory I groaned and stepped away to start packing again. Shirts were switched out, more durable ones put in. I had been so certain our separation would be final, and the only sane choice left to me.

You expect me to just forget you?

I'd held a pair of pants and slowly set them down with a sigh. As the memory played on part of my modern brain screamed ‘Don’t do it. Just stay.’ Only because leaving had been useless in the long run. Five years had passed since this memory of Kahina and me in the basement.

In times’ wake sat broken relationships, confetti memories, self-doubt, and all for nothing. Now that I was probably captured and locked away somewhere, the results were worse than nothing. The past kept me from worrying about current events for another moment or two.

No. I picked up the pants again and rubbed my fingers along the fabric. Each grain and ripple tingled along my senses from both sides but the motion barely soothed me.

I wasn’t stupid enough to believe Kahina would move on or forget me. Yet, I needed her to, and hoped we might both let each other go. In the end, that would save us from this dangerous relationship. That way the world would keep going.

Think about this, what it means for both of us! Our friends! she pleaded again while stepping closer.

It means you'll get to live, I whispered. Those words hadn't been intended for her to hear.

There was a pause in her responses. I could hear sniffling, then a giant unsavory snort that made pigs sound polite. It had almost made me smile. She made those same sounds when we went out to plays, especially the tragedies. She loved tragedies.

Maybe she always knew how we’d end.

How can you place so much faith in that feather brained thing? she finally asked. Kahina and Muni met months before this memory, and neither had been impressed with the other. The women in my life rarely got along. Julianne and Kahina were the exception, not the norm.

She has a name.

It's stupid. This is all so stupid! You're an idiot!

I didn't have to see her to know that her arms were crossed and face upturned. Kahina argued with the wall. She'd be more successful there anyway.

The trinket Muni has will help you forget and help me forget. It will help everyone who ever knew me forget who I am. They won’t know to look for me, and won’t go after you just to push me. We can buy time, I said.

I didn't mention Muni would be removing a chunk of people's memories. Not everything —taking too much would leave a person witless. I'd be remembered in some form, and I would be able to recall portions of my life. It would be enough to keep me going, even if all that was left was half a man.

And you believe Daniel will just solve your problems while you're out playing clueless vagabond? She snorted again. I doubt it.

It's the best option.

I almost lost the thread of my past then and there. That belief of mine which somehow linked her safety to my presence had been stupid.

Still, at the time I could recall the certainty that our separation was her best chance. I would go away, she and everyone else would forget to an extent, and Western Sector could do their damnedest to hold off the end of times. Daniel had plans, he was an endless maze of plots, contingencies and alternate routes five layers deep.

If I was out of the way the Order would go back to business as normal, instead of trying to flush me out by targeting those dear to me. If this went right the Order would forget I'd ever been near Kahina, Julianne, or Roy and our family. They’d all forget, until we were ready or we couldn’t stall anymore.

What if someone else sweeps me off my feet? She sniffed while talking. I tried not to cringe as my mind silently prayed she would find someone.

Someone better, with fewer flaws, and who could keep her safe.

Well? Kahina demanded.

There were no good answers.

This is because— She started to ask a question but my head shook rapidly.

No, it's not. We've been over this. I shoved another bit of clothing into my bag while searching for more necessities.

You keep saying that, but I know it bothered you. That's the real reason you're leaving.

Yet again I stopped packing, and stood there thinking of what to say. I'd never been a man blessed with a serpent’s tongue, no honeyed words flowed forth even if I tried. How could anyone expect me to be reassuring? No wonder Kahina worried about my reactions.

We both knew what might happen, I said.

But...

Actions were louder than words. I quickly walked over and wrapped my arms around her, pressing us together. Her body stiffened and struggled to break free. She stopped after a few seconds but stayed tense.

I was in the wrong. I spoke slowly and carefully.

But I took your blood. She kept her voice steady.

I wanted you to have it, remember? My instincts had kicked in and things turned violent afterward. Intent should have been enough, I refuse to blame you for defending yourself.

We'd tried to follow an old ritual her kind practiced for a pairing between human and vampire. Even being a partial, like she was at the time, our bond would have created a link. It should have been a magnetic pull that would help draw people together. If I were human it'd also smooth the transition for shifting to full vampire.

I wasn't human. I knew it, she knew it, and that was the crux of our problem. Drinking even a little bit of my blood had roused me to anger. Then I became violent while Kahina reacted in defense and desire by aiming for more blood yet trying to fend off my rampage.

Walls had holes punched into plaster. Cops had been called and only Julianne's interference kept things remotely civil. It helped that normal police wouldn't touch a vampire case unless forced.

Julianne drove an upset Kahina home. My girlfriend had slept in her own apartment while I passed out on my bed in the basement, tossing and turning the entire time. It took a week for us to start talking again.

There was no safe word that would have helped for what we'd done. No perfect preparation, or taking it slower. We'd started as basic as possible and things had gone downhill.

You know that's not the reason, I said again.

But I nearly killed you. She was being silly. It would take a lot more than some blood sport to kill me. I survived gunshots, stabbings, arms breaking, and being thrown off buildings.

And I you.

But I forgave you. She sounded tired.

And I you, I repeated again.

You're afraid to stay. Her words grew quieter. Somehow we managed to fall onto the bed. Her hand trailed a familiar path up my chest.

Fear wasn't easy to admit. I am.

They might really kill me? she asked.

And worse.

I still don't understand what that means.

Back then I hadn't explained the real problem to her. Maybe if I had laid out everything in plain words and figured out a plan that involved her, history would have been different. There was no way to make reality sound sane. How could I explain that my death, in the right circumstances, might unravel the world? Or worse, bathing in a vat of my blood could transform a human into a creature of madness and power.

No one understood what another Merlin might do and the Purge made sharing the truth publicly impossible. Another human baptized in the blood of a monster like myself could steal the elemental gives and the power of command. Kingdoms had been razed to the ground as one man, the most legendary Merlin, tried to take over the entire Emerald Sector and waged war on Rome itself.

The man had been insane and led humans along a second genocide. His manifesto babbled on about wiping out wolves, vampires, and elves. Daniel showed me the records once citing that Merlin's entire family had been wiped out by wolves gone rogue. The legendary figure’s hatred ran deep. The sector agent and I had talked about it, comparing Hunter histories with the things I knew.

And I knew things he didn't. Not because of personal experience. No, I understood the dangers because my father's voice had told me so. His advice whispered in the far reaches of my mind. There were rules to live by, and warnings from the things he'd learned in a lifetime. We had an entire family line of lessons passed down from father to offspring, generational knowledge that had been embedded into my mind during gestation.

I'd never actually met the voice’s owner. His guidance was often deceptive in its simplicity, repetitive, almost always in threes. There, in the past where I held Kahina in a memory, his words repeated.

Beware those with skins of envy.

Beware those who den in fear.

Beware those who breathe out hate.

The Order of Merlin did all those, even if they covered it up with other names. Preaching all non-humans should have been removed during The Purge was one example. They were also willing to kill for their goals and, based on my slowly recovering memories, wanted to recreate a Merlin in this modern era.

I had to become scarce. Daniel Crumfield, a Western Sector agent I'd known for most of my life, was of the same mind in this. The sooner I became invisible the safer everyone was. Making Kahina and everyone else forget would only add another layer of protection. They needed protection and I wouldn’t be in a place to provide it.

My mind was addled and memories distorted. Too many bits were coming back to me in the wrong order. I focused on the memory of leaving Kahina the first time.

Will you come back? Kahina asked in the relaying memory.

I nodded and responded, If I can.

When? she asked.

I don't know.

The lull was a fragile thing. I could almost feel it—struggling to hold onto hope coupled with a fear of loss. They were warring emotions that ruled our lives.

I don't like this, she said. In that moment Kahina showed her first tone of depressive resignation. I didn't want to spend our last moments arguing. Maybe she didn't either.

When I return, you'll be a big shot vampire. You won't need a thug like me.

She snorted at my statement but it sounded snotty. Please. I can’t replace you.

You’ll have a house full of servants. Plus some old vampire trying to control you. And your father will be happy to see me move on.

I won't make it through the transition.

You will, I said and attempted a smile. You've got my blood in you. Even a little will make the difference. It’s how it all started, you may be the purest vampire to exist in millennia. I knew, because my father knew, and his father, and his father back at least six generations.

But I won't have you, Kahina said.

I'll come back. It’s impossible for me to stay away forever.

I hope so. She nestled closer but wasn’t looking for anything beyond the reassuring comfort of being near. That was fine, I was too mentally drained for sex anyway. It wasn't like she was alone in being upset.

After this memory, the next day, we wouldn’t be together in the same way. What we were would become a distorted version of the truth once Muni blocked parts of my memory.

I'll wait for you, Jay, she said so quietly I almost doubted my own ears. But we were in my home and everything here I felt as if it were my own arms or legs. Each stir of air like it passed through my lungs. Tying me to her had been unavoidable.

I tried not to dwell on doubt and worry. Back then there was hope the new version of Jay Fields wouldn't foul things up too badly. My only memories would be skewed versions of the past. Muni was ordered to focus on magnifying bad events which would keep me too upset to return.

Thoughts about my unseen father floated through. He had other lessons regarding the claim I laid over Kahina and others. Just by knowing people I felt the connections slowly come together. Close friends, things, places, even the patchwork family I'd built around myself.

His words always passed through with a slow yet demanding rumble. Whenever I pictured the words in English they almost always sounded straight from the Emerald Isles, a proper gentleman, but so very worn out.

Still, his words were unbroken, unceasing, almost a mantra.

What you claim defines you.

What you claim relies on you.

What you claim wounds you.

Those words were formal dressing for a singular idea. What I claimed, was me, in a sense, with all the dangers that represented. It would wound me to leave her, so much that the only way to make it possible was to have my memories altered.

I sat there with Kahina under one arm, staring at the ceiling of my cluttered bedroom, and searched through my father's words for any wisdom that could be gleaned; anything that would give my chosen path a hope of success.

I came up blank.

The next day Muni had gutted parts of my memories and smeared over other blocks. There were many items that were too dangerous to leave in one piece. My nature couldn't be buried completely without a mental crippling.

I nearly killed the raven headed woman. Roy's family had held me back, struggling, gasping, and finally sobbing. My blood and memories were vital possessions that sent me into a fit like any theft.

After the mental blender I woke on a bus headed east.

Julianne had agreed to keep my apartment. Theoretically I'd travel and find work, which I had. My memory would be shoveled around to think I needed to send cash home to pay for the space. Doing so would signal to Daniel and others that I was alive. Chances were I'd barely find enough to survive, so the rent would probably come out of my other finances.

Hell, I remembered now. I had more money than anyone rightfully needed. Bottom Pit paid out a share of its profits to all members of the family and plenty of cash was stored away from fighting.

My mind drifted in and out. That bit with Kahina and the past had been the clearest memory to resurface. A dozen others sat in jumbles sorting themselves chronologically before playing. Muni's mechanisms couldn’t be undone so easily.

I managed to remember Daniel's stupid code word, for all the good that knowledge did. The man was probably off in deep cover with the Order of Merlin. Last I'd heard, from one of his other Sector agent pals, Daniel was one of the faithful and had escaped the compound before the feds showed up.

Hell. I shoved all the images from my past away and surfaced. Both eyes fluttered letting in natural light. The world felt heavy and uncomfortable. Skin on my arms puckered in spots, things lodged under flesh that stung when I tried to twitch an arm. Both thighs were tied down.

My eyes were open but the sensation of using them felt alien and disjointed. A pale green color covered everything. Beeps pulsed through the air. I tried to swivel my head to the side but failed. My neck was braced. I attempted to lift an arm and found it equally restricted. A rattle of handcuffs was distinctive enough to set alarm bells off in my mind.

I tilted my wrist, then twisted fingers around a chain linking me to the bed. For a third time I tried to curse but my throat didn’t work. Those were definitely handcuffs.

If that was the case, someone should be in as soon as they noticed their prisoner was conscious. Escaping might be possible. I tugged at the arm again, now that I knew what was holding me down.

My hand refused to form a proper grip and my muscles were lethargic. Nothing functioned in a desired manner. I clenched my eyes, trying to stop the world from spinning. My mind tried to focus on ownership to pull a bit of strength for escape. Nothing came forth. No surge of energy and none of the primal thoughts which sounded like a rock born caveman.

There had been a name for that voice. What had my father called it? Memories swam over me, blocking thoughts of escape. Words rumbled with pieces of history and people I'd fought in flashes. Roy, Tal, his family, we’d had endless hours of brutal sparring in the early morning in an effort to perfect their dances. I enjoyed the battle as much as they did.

Daniel had fed me leads and