Page 14 of Sadist (The Triarchy Collection #1)

THEO

D eath hurt.

Anyone who claims it’s peaceful is a filthy liar who deserves to gargle battery acid until their teeth melt, because there is no way anyone could feel like I did and still have both feet in the land of the living.

Even my eyelids hurt when I tried to open them.

Pretty sure I found some new muscles in my neck that I didn’t realize I had possession of… because fucking ow.

Groaning, I rolled to my side, fighting a wave of nausea so I could call for the nurse. God, how long had I been out? My abused brain sluggishly grasped at the murky memories that hovered just out of reach until a face drifted out of the haze.

Octavia.

How long had it been? My stomach went cold. I’d only left her with a jug of water in my rush to leave. Pain lanced through my skull as my eyes shot open, pushing myself with a groan as blankets fell off my naked body.

I was in my own bed.

Squinting in the dim light, I could make out the softly glowing fairy lights above the table beyond, my own room lit by the bedside lamp that looked like it had a jumper thrown over it to soften the light.

“What?” I rasped, my voice gravelly as if I hadn’t used it in a long while. My body shook as I pushed myself up trying to remember how the fuck I had gotten myself here.

My gun was sitting on my bedside table, and I snatched it up, dried blood flaking off the grip as I checked the mag.

No bullets. Useful. It was far harder than it should have been to reach for the lower drawer and slide it out, grab the ammunition I needed, and load the gun with my eyes closed to try to help the spike of pain that was ricocheting through my skull with every breath.

Zichen…The image of thrusting the knife into his jaw suddenly floated into view as more scraps of memory started to knit together.

Okay.

I had gotten myself back in here at least.

I think. Did Erryn bring me in? I peered up at my dresser to the place where she usually left her gun. It was bare…and I couldn’t smell the perfume that tended to cling to things in her wake.

The weight of the gun in my palm was a small comfort as I stood, glancing around through one slitted, reluctant eye for my phone.

Clearly, concussed Theo was capable of mood lighting, but couldn’t do useful things like leave the device that controlled ninety percent of my home with the touch of a button handy. Or leave clothes within reach.

Clothes were in the way too hard basket. Blanket it was. I pulled it off the bed and tucked it around myself, breathing through the nausea the movement evoked, and eyed the distance to the kitchen.

Why was it so god-damned far to the kitchen?

“Theo?”

I jumped, training my gun on the figure slumped over the table in the shadows.

“Erryn?”

“No…It’s me.”

“Octavia?” I rasped, trying to blink away the lights that had exploded in my vision at the sudden movement as my mind seemed intent on heading back into the shadowy depths of sleep.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Don’t shoot.”

I lowered the gun, swiping a hand across my eyes and wondering if I had actually died after all, and this was purgatory. It definitely wasn’t hell…because she was here.

“You shouldn’t be up yet,” Octavia said, taking a hesitant step toward me. I brought the gun back up, and she froze, raising her hands, her eyes locked not on the gun, but my face.

“Put the gun down, Theo,” she said, her voice gaining an edge to it I hadn’t heard before. “I’m not going to hurt you, or I would have done it while you were unconscious and bleeding all over me. And who the fuck is Erryn?”

I blinked at her in confusion. While I was what?

“How are you out of your cell?” I asked.

“You let me out,” she said, taking another step forward. I tilted my head, giving her a warning look, and she stopped.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked.

I swallowed, racking my struggling brain.

“Downstairs,” I said after a long moment. “I dispatched Zichen and then…not much after that.”

“You let me out around three a.m. on Saturday. The same day I was reported as dead after an explosion on the M25 killed fourteen civilians,” she said, her tone even and quiet. “Twelve initially. Two more died at the hospital from their injuries. Octavia Vanguard is among the deceased.”

“Wh—” I began, but she cut me off.

“You had a pretty bad concussion,” she went on. “And a stab wound to your upper right thigh that I stitched yesterday. You called me a cunt twice during that. Google has me concerned that your fifth and sixth ribs on your left side might be fractured, based on the bruising.”

My brain really needed to wake up because I was really struggling to follow her. How was I not dead? How was she still here? I glanced at the door, realizing why a second later. She had no way out without me, and no one could get in without me letting them in.

“You got into the computers,” I said, glancing over her shoulder at the dark screens.

“I did,” she said. “I needed a tutorial on how to stitch flesh. I also kept you alive the last three days, and trust me, you are a total bitch to nurse.”

“Why?” I asked, my gun still trained on her.

“Besides the obvious,” she said, gesturing to the door, “I know who I’m in here with.

I don’t know who is waiting behind that door, and I’m currently a ghost. I would rather like to keep it that way.

” She shifted on her feet. “Theo, you need to sit down. You haven’t eaten in the better part of three days, and you lost a lot of blood. ”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why the hell would you want to stay dead?”

“It’s the chance for a fresh start,” she said quickly. “And considering there have been no reports to contradict my untimely demise, I am going to hazard a guess that I’m standing in front of the only person who knows I am alive.”

“Why would I do that?” I asked. “You are a job.”

“Because I saved your life,” she snapped. “I highly doubt you would have survived that on your own.”

“You think far too highly of my morals,” I said bitterly.

“I don’t think I do,” she replied, slowly lowering her hands.

I lowered the gun, eyeing her warily.

She relaxed slightly, though she didn’t move as I forced feet that felt like lead toward the kitchen, not bothering with a glass as I leaned over the sink and drank greedily straight from the tap.

Water had never tasted so sweet, lifting the fog from my mind as the coolness soothed some of the feverish heat I was wrapped in.

I drank until my belly didn’t feel so hollow, only then pausing to catch my breath.

Three days.

Shit.

“Where’s my phone?” I asked without looking at her. This was the first time since I had fallen into this job that I was caught off guard, and I didn’t like it.

“Plugged in over by the monitors,” she answered, adding, “It’s off, just charging.

I didn’t touch it.” She seemed to realize I was completely incapable of walking that distance, and got up from the table, striding over to where she had left it and brought it to me, though she hesitated for a long moment.

“Thank you,” I murmured as she handed over the phone.

“You’re welcome,” she said. And we both knew it wasn’t for the phone.

She hovered nervously as I turned it on.

It was nearly midnight Monday, and I had a dozen missed calls from Erryn’s personal number that started last night.

I swore softly, flicking through all the other notifications.

I had a couple cameras installed in my living quarters, but none that The Triarchy had access to.

Only the garage had a camera that I let link to their feed—with selective blind spots—and it would have been clear to her that I had not emerged from my home since the attack.

“What are you doing?” Octavia shifted on her feet, eyeing me warily.

“Calling Erryn ,” I said, wincing as the light hurt my eyes.

“Theo,” Octavia murmured, a hint of pleading in her voice.

I held a finger to my lips as I hit call, Erryn picking up on the first ring.

“Glad you have decided to pick up your phone,” she said, her tone icy, though I could hear the underlying strain of the questions she desperately wanted to ask, but was too rigid to give an inch. “Have an enjoyable sabbatical?”

“Time of my life,” I said dryly. “I’m fine, by the way, thanks for asking.”

“It’s been three days, Theodora,” she said, her tone a little softer. “Why did you not call a medic?”

“You need to be conscious to do that,” I quipped back. “I need a couple more days to get my strength back and get up to speed. I’ll report in when I am good to go.”

There was a long silence on the other end, and I was about to check we hadn’t been disconnected when I heard her let out a long breath.

“Take the week. It’s a wildfire at the moment, and I need you to hit the ground running when you come back, now that we no longer have the Vanguard girl as leverage. I’ll have a new team ready.”

“No team,” I said quickly, not correcting her about Octavia, and unable to pick apart my feelings about why I hadn’t. “I work better alone, as has been proven recently.”

“That would be unconventional—” she began.

“Because that’s such a change to our normal, is it not?’ I countered. “No team, Erryn.”

“I want an override code for your systems added to The Triarchy’s database this week,” she finally said. “It’s ridiculous that we do not already have one in place.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, then ended the call.

Octavia was watching me warily as I slipped my phone back into my pocket.

“She’s your boss?”

The relief on her face was evident, and I nodded.

“She is.”

“And you didn’t report me to her?”

“I didn’t report you to her,” I agreed. “Not…yet. But I am far too concussed to be making promises right now.”

“So now what?” she asked.

“Right at this moment?” I said, moving to the table and sitting down. “It’s almost midnight, Octavia, and I haven’t eaten in three days. Please tell me you didn’t find the ice cream while I was out.”

Her brows pulled together in the most comical look of confusion that I huffed a laugh, wincing as it made my head pound.

“I’ll crush up some Aspirin and mix it in,” she said finally, seeming to collect herself. “Are you telling me I’ve been locked up for three days unsupervised, and there was ice cream in here the whole time?”