Hold Me Never (Holding Never) (27 page)

My muscles tighten, like springs coiled for action. I
allow my lips to twitch a smile from under my straggly, wet hair.

I know where his fist is headed. I remain in position,
crouching until the very last instant. As the air ripples, I jerk
suddenly to the side, and watch the Emperor's hand fly past my eyes
as if in slow motion. The Emperor's pale knuckles smash noisily into
the solid bed frame. His howls of pain and fury shatter that frozen
moment. His shrieks sound like sweet music to my ears, infinitely
sweeter and more uplifting than that eerie music I had been forced to
dance to.

With a roar, he flies towards me and slaps me hard. My
cheeks and eyes burn, but instead of letting my head loll to the
side, I crack my neck sharply and lift my eyes to him.

My eyes stare up at him from under my wet curtain of
hair. Slowly, deliberately, with a wide, insane smile, I turn my
head to face him.

The Emperor mops the sweat from his brow and staggers
sideways, drunk on violence.

When he moves to strike me again, a sound bubbles from
my throat. It begins low and quiet, then rises until my harsh,
crazed laughter fills the entire room.

Taken aback, the Emperor blinks at me, his raised hand
quivering in the air. “What—why are you laughing? What
is so funny? Stop it. Stop that! Right now. Shut up. I said shut
up!”

He lunges towards me, but this time when his hand comes
down, I block his blow.

“
How dare you!”

His other hand curls into a loose fist, which comes
flying towards me. My hand shoots up and catches his limp wrist. He
flails but I don't let go. I tighten my grip on his wrist, crushing
his wrist in my fist as my nails dig in.

His eyes are wide in shock and pain. “What the
hell are you doing? Ouch! Let go! Bitch! Let go! Or...or I'll...”

“
Or what? What will you do, Your Majesty?”
I ask sweetly, twisting his arm violently. “What will you do
that you haven't done before? Hmm?”

“
Ow! Ouch! Ow, bitch! You slut, you filthy
slut! Let me go! I will kill you, I will kill...”

I smile at him, making my whole face hurt. “You
have already killed me, Your Majesty.”

His knee jerks up. I let go of his wrist to grab his
leg as he aims a kick at me. Giving his leg a vicious twist, I throw
him off balance and he lands in a screaming heap on the floor.

“
You...you will be punished!” he rasps,
scrabbling away from me. “You will die for this! I will kill
you!”

He looks around wildly, then scrambles towards the wall.
Something is coiled on a hook on the wall. I stand up, hiding a
grimace. I don't know how much more my battered body can take. I
should have tried to defend myself earlier, instead of letting the
Emperor beat me senseless. But I had been senseless then. Grief and
fear made me weak. Weak and stupid.

So now I will have to be strong. Strong and stupid. I
am courting death, I know, but somehow death no longer seems so
frightening. I know that I will die, tonight. And that certainty
takes away the sting of death. Since my death is assured, it is no
longer an issue and I will not concern myself with it. My time, my
strength, my breaths are limited. They will all run out before this
night has passed. I will have to use them well, use them up, deplete
them, use every last ounce of power and will I have to fight the
Emperor. If I can kill him, so much the better. But I have to be
realistic. He will likely kill me first.

I straighten up, hearing my joints crack. Blinking the
sweat from my eyes, I watch the Emperor warily. He takes the whip
from its hanging hook on the wall and uncoils it. It is a long, thin
whip, with tiny metal barbs at the tip. Cracking it twice on the
floor, he advances towards me with a crazed gleam in his eye.

“
I told you you'll be punished,” he says
with an ugly smile. “When I am finished with you, you'll be
unrecognizable. Then you'll be fed to my snakes. I'm just
tenderizing you for them. Making you more digestible.”

I make no response at all.

“
Scared now? Not so brave now, are we?” he
sings.

The smile remains frozen on his face. I meet his small,
cruel eyes, refusing to glance down at the quivering whip in his
hand. The tensed stillness stretches between us like a rubber band,
threatening to break. Who will break first?

We stand watching each other, feeding off each other's
fear and anger, reading the challenge and scorn in the other's eyes.

The seconds tick by.

A muscle twitches in the Emperor's face.

His breathing becomes faster.

My heart is pounding too loudly in my chest, in my ears.

In this wind up to our bloody, macabre dance, we adopt
similar stances. Shoulders forward, fists clenched, feet apart, eyes
locked.

With a sudden twitch of his thin lips, the Emperor rears
back and swings the whip.

We both move at the same time.

Instantaneously, I move to dodge the blow, but the
shackle bites sharply into my ankle, gripping my leg in place. The
whip cracks into my leg, and the pain is like a gunshot, searing and
sudden.

Against my will, a cry escapes and I clutch my leg. The
terrible pain shoots up my leg, scorching my flesh and kindling a
burning rage in my gut. The barbs have dug into my calf, and gouged
deep rivulets of blood down my leg. Thick, warm blood is flowing
freely down my leg, collecting at my ankle and painting my shackle
crimson.

Taking quick, panicky breaths, I force myself to focus
on the next attack rather than on my pain. My eyes dart to the
Emperor, and I see a satisfied smile on his face. He has drawn blood
and brought me to my knees. And he is going to whip me until I am
nothing but a bloody pulp on the floor.

My eyes flit from my bleeding leg to the whip. No! I
won't give him the satisfaction of breaking me.

When the whip whistles through the air again, my eyes
coldly follow its path. My eyes squeeze shut for a heartbeat,
mentally preparing myself for the excruciating pain as I stretch out
my hands to reach for that stinging whip.

In a blur of movement, my fingers curl round the whip as
the barbs bite into my arms.

Despite the agony, I don't let go.

The whip burns my palms, but anguish and desperation
gives me power, pure will power.

The Emperor looks momentarily stunned when I catch the
whip in my fist. With a wordless cry, I channel all my strength to
my shivering arms and yank with all my might. The Emperor stumbles
forward, but he manages to clutch the handle tightly to his chest.
We become engaged in a warped tug-of-war, a contest of wills and
shredded dignity.

“
You! Let go...I...I'm warning you...” he
screeches, his veins bulging from his neck and arms.

I close both fists around the whip and pull hard as I
bellow a war cry. The Emperor digs his heels in as he skids towards
me.

“
Let go, you crazy...!”

Crazy am I? Oh, crazy is good, very good!

He holds on with both hands and with a scream and a
sudden surge of strength and madness, wrenches the whip back
violently. The whip is yanked painfully out of my fists, and I
stumble forward. In an uncharacteristic display of speed, the
Emperor seizes on his advantage and strikes. The whip cracks across
my shoulder, narrowly missing my face. I fall to my knees with an
explosion of curses.

I feel the whip across my back, the barbs tearing out
slivers of my flesh. I try to struggle up, but the relentless blows
bring me even lower on my knees. The lashes come fast and furious,
as I fall to the ground, writhing in agony.

Footsteps stomp towards me and vicious kicks land on my
head and in my side.

Whip me when I fall.

Kick me when I'm down.

“
You...are a coward!” I hiss up at the
dimming image of the Emperor above me.

I don't hear his shrieking reply.

I shield my face with my arms, leaving my back exposed.
The whip comes down on my back again and again, tearing into my skin.
I can feel the lashes crisscrossing down my back, to the end of my
spine as I try to struggle up.

Don't pass out.

Get to your feet.

I grit my teeth and wobble up. Instead of my feet, I
only manage to rise to my knees.

“
Beg! You will beg me now!” the Emperor
yells, whipping me even harder. “Beg me, you dirty slut!
Whore! Worthless, filthy, shameful...” He is panting hard,
but still he raises the whip to strike.

I try to ward off the blows, but my arms are shaking too
much.

“
Beg!” he screeches, blinking the moisture
from his eyes. “Beg me!”

Never.

His blows are becoming weaker, but so am I. I am losing
too much blood, losing strength and consciousness.

“
I will kill you, you filthy whore!”

As I raise my hand weakly to shield my face, I can't
help but wonder whose face the Emperor is really seeing as he whips
me with so much pent up rage, frustration and shame. His cries are
wretched, and his eyes wide and unseeing. As he tortures my body,
does he imagine the face and voice of another? Is it really me he is
whipping with such cruel passion, or someone else?

At last, the Emperor slumps forward, the whip dropping
from his white, shivering hands. I am lying face down in a pool of
my own blood. Still breathing, but barely.

Taking small, rattling breaths, I fight against the
riptide of darkness. I know that once I am dragged under, there will
be no coming back.

Don't close your eyes. Whatever you do.

Spluttering, I push my eyelids open and stare down the
tilting floor. Feet are weaving towards me, and a laughing voice is
speaking to me from a distance. A face leers down at me, and
something shiny waves in front of my face.

Shiny and silver. Catching the light and winking at me.
It looks...like a star, with its sharp, blinding edges. Such a
pretty thing—in such an ugly hand.

It takes me a moment to realize that that pretty,
gleaming thing is a blade.

The sharp, glinting blade of a knife.

I cry out as the Emperor crouches behind me and grabs a
fistful of my matted hair. My lethargy and lightheadedness disappear
in a flash and I scream and kick out with everything I have,
everything I have left. As he yanks my head backwards, I reach back
and try to claw him in the eye, but he slices down my arms with his
knife, forcing me to snatch my bleeding arm back and cradle it
against my stomach.

“
I'll make a nice big slit in your throat, before
letting the snakes have you. I want to see the snakes slithering in
your warm blood, writhing over your wound before they poison you and
devour you,” he whispers softly and sweetly like a lover, as he
brushes his cold lips against the shell of my ear.

My body recoils from the touch of his lips. But the
fiercer I struggle, the deeper he presses the knife into my neck. I
feel the cold steel against my flesh, followed by something warm and
wet.

The blade presses deeper. I blink hard, fighting not to
close my eyes.

If this is the end, then I might as well fight to the
bitter end. And inflict as much damage as I can before I go. I will
not go quietly. That will be too easy.

I reach up with both hands and grab the handle of the
knife. My nails dig into the Emperor's hand as we both struggle for
control of the knife. The blade shivers and starts to inch away from
my neck. We wrestle and slide in the slippery pool of my blood, as I
try to twist the knife out of the Emperor's grip.

The Emperor lets go of my hair, and rakes his free hand
viciously down the gaping wounds on my back. I arch my back at the
anguish and my fingers loosen. The Emperor jerks the knife free of
my grasp and aims the point of the blade at my heart. As the blade
plunges towards my chest, I regain enough of my wits and strength to
jack sharply to the side. The deadly blade misses my heart and
buries itself in my left shoulder.

At the exact same moment that a ragged scream erupts
from me, there is a deafening, explosive crash behind me. I am
suddenly aware of the freezing night wind against my clammy skin.
Tiny, glittering pieces of glass fall like diamonds from the sky,
littering the floor.

A shadow moves behind me. Heavy footsteps and furious
shouts.

The Emperor lets out a high-pitched scream as he is
kicked backwards. “Wha—”

I twist around, to see that the arched window behind me
has been smashed to smithereens. A figure moves towards me, and I
gasp. For a fleeting instant, I wonder if I am seeing this vision
just before my death. The dying seeing the dead.

“
Jaxon...” I gurgle with a bloody smile.

Jaxon's dark brown eyes flick to me. I catch the
terrible pain and wrath in his eyes when he sees the knife buried in
my shoulder. I smile at him, at my angel, as I close my hand over
the hilt. With a cry, I wrench the wretched blade out of my
shoulder.