Read Theta Waves Book 1 (Episodes 1-3) Online

Authors: Thea Atkinson

Theta Waves Book 1 (Episodes 1-3) (26 page)

BOOK: Theta Waves Book 1 (Episodes 1-3)

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"My son had a peculiar penchant for hermaphrodites."

Theda found the courage to glare at him. "You're not just a beast, you're a bigot."

"Duly noted," he said, unaffected by the accusation. "Now, as to the business at hand."

"I have nothing to say."

"You did a reading for my Henrik."

"You can't prove that."

"Proof? What makes you think I require it?"

Something in the way he said it made Theda's spine snick up straight. All of those accusations she had laid in Trier, all of those 15th-century men, women, and yes even children that she had put to torture and eventual death. By the end of it all there were less than a dozen people in the Township left alive. Each one of them first harangued with questions they couldn't possibly answer in any way that could lead to gratification. If they pled innocence, even quoting sections of the Bible, she'd charge them with letting the devil steal their tongues for even the devil himself knew the holy word. There was no answer any arrested person could make that could possibly end in the person being set free. Most of them had admitted to horrendous acts that they'd completely made up under the duress of pain. She knew the line of questioning too intimately to let this one man cow her.

"I'm innocent," she said, chortling at the irony and saw she'd piqued the beast's interest. His brow arched questioningly.

"Innocent or not isn't the question."

She imagined Cathrin of Trier, pulled her face to mind, then laid Ezekiel's over it. Maybe he hadn't changed in this life, but Theda had. She wasn't that person anymore. She would exorcise that demon good and hard.

She fleeted a harried glance around the room, noting the monstrous equipment, the brazen bull snarling his displeasure at the wall, and she realized that this room should be providing her with courage, not with fear.

"I have the feeling it doesn't matter what you ask me, we'll be coming to the same resolution," she said to him.

"Smart girl," he said, stepping closer and leaning toward her so that she could see the beginnings of crows feet around his eyes. "But the path to the resolution doesn't have to be quite so painful."

"Go fuck yourself," she said.

He straightened up and turned towards his soldiers. She saw Ezekiel take a hasty step forward, his throat convulse as he clenched at the handle of his knife.

"Daniel," Ezekiel said. "Teach the bitch some manners."

The sandy haired general waited for the beast to nod his assent and then he strode forward and yanked Theda from her stool. He forced her toward the rack and shoved her so that she fell on it, driving a splinter beneath the pad of her thumb. That was nothing. Nothing.

"Tell me what vision you gave him," the beast said and waited as Daniel rolled her flat on the bed of the rack.

"I didn't give him any vision."

"Shut up," Daniel hissed at her. He grabbed for her hands stretched them out above her head.

She snorted. "You think it's going to be easier for me if I'm compliant?"

He glared at her but wouldn't answer. "She's ready," he said to the beast, fixing his gaze on hers.

"Ready or not, here I come," she said, laughing, and twisted her head so that she could keep Ezekiel in her sights. She needed to see his reaction as she was tortured. Would the woman Cathrin come forth and take glee in the suffering? Find some vengeance? Her mind reeled back to the apartment and her protests at being put in danger again. The hero saves the girl, not watches her be tormented. But books are fiction, he'd said. They weren't real. The sting in her eyes stole his face from her, blurring out the details. She ended up squeezing them shut against the sting.

It didn't matter in the end. Changed or not, she owed him. She owed all those poor souls.

"My Henrik. What vision did you send him?"

Theda felt a sting across her cheek, and her eyes flew open to see Daniel leaning in. His eyes were pleading with her, flicking past the beast, toward Ezekiel. She blinked to rid her eyes of residual tears, studied the bounty hunter anew, passively. She noted his face wasn't as swollen as when she'd seen him in Sasha's boutique. He was improving. Even the panicked look in his eye had shifted.

"I didn't send him a vision," Theda admitted to the beast. "I walked him through his own life. A magic beyond any, that's what I offered him. A ride like no other."

Daniel tested the chains at her ankles then moved to her wrists. The irons rattled noisily.

"Would you like a ride?" She asked the beast. "I swear it's like no other magic you ever seen. Henrik enjoyed it. His was a wild, wild ride."

The beast's eyes went hard as chunks of blue glass. "Watch it all, Bridget," he said without taking his eyes off Theda's. "Take this image and all the ones that will follow to your rehabilitation. Feel free to share them with your partners. I think you'll find them a useful mnemonic in your re-education."

He nodded at Daniel who patted Theda's cheek in command. She opened her mouth, thinking to spit at him in response and when she did, his finger slid inside and laid something on her tongue. He met her gaze and locked on it. She remembered Ezekiel telling her that Daniel would have a smear. That she should use it. She wanted to sob in relief.

The old familiar tingle swept into her cheeks, making her mouth flood with water. She had just enough time to see Daniel's hands move for the crank before the bliss started to fill her veins with hot oil, just enough time to see Ezekiel step behind the beast, that monstrous knife in his hand coming to the front and resting against his master's Adam's apple.

And she had just enough time, a fraction of a second before the sound of the crank creaking in a revolution strong enough to pull her joints from their sockets, to think about the redemptive power of love. Just enough time to thank any god that would listen before the euphoria descended on her.

And then there was no pain, no regret, just mind-numbing, soul-crunching ecstasy.

The End for Now.

Look for Chrysallis in Jan 2014

Chrysalis Coming Jan 2014

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Thea writes what she calls left-of-mainstream fiction at her desk in Nova Scotia with her black lab at her feet and miniature gargoyles to protect the space and the muse. No matter what the genre, it's always slightly off kilter from the regular (mainstream) offering. She hopes you enjoy reading her explorations as much as she enjoys writing.

More by Thea:

Stand Alone novels

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(a novel of Anne Boleyn)
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Anomaly
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Secret Language of Crows
Formed of Clay
(novella)
Miss You Mad (coming 2014)

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