Page 2 of Vipers and Vendettas

My mind and vision are swimming as we enter the white room. Tamadrielle’s ‘doctors’, as he calls them, are already waiting. I’m put on my feet in the middle of the space and told to stand still. I’m poked and prodded. A burning salve is pushed into the wounds they made a few days ago that are starting to go septic.

I realize belatedly that Tamadrielle is here. He’s never here this early.

What is going on?

He stands by one wall, looking me over as he would any otherinadequatepossession. He lets out a slow breath through his nose. He’s annoyed.

He waves Toramun out of the room without looking at him, leaving me with him and his other two fae employees.

‘This goes on too long. You promised me my desired outcome months ago,’ he says smoothly, his tone belying the anger in his eyes.

Grinel and Volrien look at each other quickly, their haughty movements over me faltering as they begin to, rightly, fear for their lives.

Grinel turns towards his master; head lowered in subservience. ‘My lord, we’ve not even exhausted half of the variations we can try. My most sincere apologies for your time being taken so. We know, of course, how busy you are, sir. If you would permit us, we could have her taken to our personal laboratories in the city and let you know when we have made the progress you desire.’

‘No,’ Tamadrielle says, his eyes fixed solely on me. ‘I told you. She stays here. Increase your sessions by ten percent.’

‘My lord, that is not advisable.’

The fae lord’s flashing eyes finally turn to Grinel. ‘You presume too much.’

Grinel’s eyes lower to the floor, and he practically quakes under Tamadrielle’s anger.

‘Forgive me, my lord. I only mean that she will continue to weaken if we keep increasing. She must be given time to heal. Then, there is the question of space.’

‘Space?’ Tamadrielle snarls, gesturing around the room. ‘What more space can you need for your activities?’

Activities.

An unusual sort of anger stutters through me but can’t gain purchase, like sparks flying from a flint onto damp kindling.

My suffering isactivities.

‘Forgive me, lord. I meant onthe subject. We’re running out of canvas.’

Tamadrielle lets out a hum, walking around me as I stand in silence, not looking at any of them. ‘So I see.’

Without warning, his hands snatch the cloth of my bra and underwear, wrenching them off my body. The worn fabrics rip easily, and my eyes fly to his for a second as I gasp.

‘There. Some additional, unblemishedcanvasfor your tools.’ He sees me looking at him and snorts at me. ‘So, you are still in there. I thought your mind broken long ago, child.’

He grasps my chin and makes me look into his eyes. Anger grows inside at this new humiliation as he stares at me, and I can’t hide it.

He rears back, a look of shock on his face for a second, though he doesn’t let go of me.

‘There!’ he says with barely contained excitement. ‘I saw it! Just for a moment. But it was there!’

‘My lord? What did you see?’

I notice the fae scientists hovering in my periphery, looking worried but very hopeful.

He doesn’t answer them. ‘Continue with the present course. I have business that will take me away for a week or more. When I return, I expect to see more results than your paltry offerings thus far.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Of course, my lord.’

Tamadrielle goes to the door, casting one final look at me before he leaves.