Hydromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 4)

“Let’s get back,” Gold Tooth said.

Pockmarks sneered. “I want to play first.”

“Later. You know what Ilano will do to you if you disobey his orders.”

Pockmarks withdrew his gun and drew it over her breasts. “Later.”

Tim flashed his fangs at the men who retreated up the stairs, laughing.

When they were gone, Tim turned to her. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll be better when I kill them,” she hissed.

“Tell me what those fuckers did to you.”

“I’m fine.” What was going on? Why was Tim chained?

“You’re not fine. You’re fucking naked and,” he clenched his jaw, “smelling of Ilano. Maya…”

“He didn’t touch me in that way. He only licked the blood away from the cut.”

“Did the others…?”

“Drenched me with cold water. Nothing else.”

“I can smell your weakness.” He exhaled a shaky breath. “I thought…” He closed his eyes. “I thought you’d be near death by now because of the virus.”

“It took longer to kick in this time.” She gave a soft laugh. “Charles is going to be pissed off that we didn’t note the second of the minute of the day.”

He caressed her with his gaze. “You’re a piece of work, finding humor here.”

“What does Ilano want with you? Why did he lock you up?”

“I don’t know, but I promise, I’ll get you out of here.” His expression turned somber. “I never intended for this to happen. If I’d known he’d take you…” His voice shook with anger. “If anything happens to you…”

She didn’t understand. Ilano would’ve told Tim of her betrayal. Didn’t Tim come here to revenge himself, to deal with her? Why was he still offering to save her? Unless Tim didn’t know.

“Why did you come?” she asked carefully.

His eyes widened. “You thought I’d just leave you here?” When she didn’t reply, the disbelief on his face turned into pain. “You don’t believe me. You never believed me when I told you we are forever.” He jerked on his chains. “I hate not being able to touch you.” His voice softened. “Given the situation you find yourself in, I can’t blame you for having little faith in me, but I’d never leave you, Maya. When I heard Ilano had taken you, I came as fast as I could. I’m so sorry, baby girl. I should’ve kept you by my side, not sent you up alone to a bedroom where any vampire could snatch you through the window. I should’ve made Cesar and Lee stay with you, should’ve increased the guards around the house. I’ve tortured myself over it for the last three and a half days. My mistake is unforgiveable, but I’ll set it right if it’s the last thing I do.”

Her soul shriveled. Oh God, he didn’t know. How could he put himself deliberately into such danger, walking unarmed into Ilano’s trap?

“Why the hell did you come alone?” she asked. “Why didn’t you bring protection, you idiot?”

“Because of what could happen to you.”

Tim risked his life for her. What was she supposed to make of that?

“I’ll find a way,” Tim said, “I swear it to you.”

“Please, don’t make promises.” Promises were meant to be broken.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. “Don’t you dare think that. Don’t you dare believe we won’t get out of here.”

Once he knew the truth, he wouldn’t be so eager to save her. She had to tell him. There were so many things he was going to hate her for, but she owed him at least that. She slid down to the floor.

He followed, moving as close to her as his chains would allow. The only part of their bodies that could touch, were their feet. She brushed her toes against his ankle, taking comfort from the contact. She didn’t know where to start. Maybe the beginning was a good place.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

She dropped her chin to her chest. After a while, she said, “His name was Darren.”

She glanced at him to measure his reaction. His brown eyes were soft. She swallowed and looked away again. She didn’t deserve the empathy she saw in his gaze.

“You asked who ruined me for other men. I loved him, and he could’ve loved me if he’d allowed himself, but our lives weren’t as simple as that.”

She took a deep breath. “Frida once said I was bad for your public image.”

“I don’t give a fuck what Frida says or about my public image.”

“No, she was right. She’s good, you know. Has a great nose for trash. You should trust her.”

“Maya—”

“My mother was a prostitute on the Cape Flats in South Africa,” she continued, not giving him time to deny her statement. “She was of Xhosa origin. The man who fathered me was a sailor from Holland.”

He listened quietly.

“I was told I got my green eyes from him. I was also told I got my sharp tongue from my mother, but I don’t know if that’s true. She died giving birth to me.”