Wingless (The Lia Hunter Chronicles #1)

Something was burning. My head pounded, my tongue felt like a dirty rag inside my mouth, but above all the scent of charred flesh burnt my nostrils. Hissing, I cracked open my eyes. The world was a blurry mess of colours and shapes. Blinking, my vision cleared slowly and with a muddled brain I struggled to understand what I was looking at. A person was in a chair, their hands secured behind their backs with a chain that was bolted to the floor, their blonde head bowed. Blearily, I looked up staring at a pair of arms hanging from the roof by a pair of silver chains. It took me a moment to realise they were mine but as I did I felt the pain begin to register in my shoulders at the uncomfortable position. Groaning I tried to shift my position and take some of the strain off my arms but my toes barely brushed against the concrete floor below me.

The blonde head jerked up and desperate brown eyes focused on me.

“Lia?” Came a hopeful whisper.

“J-Jake?” Was my slurred reply. My tongue sticking to the walls of my mouth.

“Oh thank god, I was getting worried. You’ve been unconscious for ages.”

“W-what’s going on? Where are we? A-and what’s that smell?”

A stuttered look around the room revealed a familiar looking basement, the only light coming from a dim bulb hanging over Jake’s head. Its yellow burn, casting a sickly glow over Jake.

“Lia,” his voice shook slightly, “I- I think we’ve been taken by the killer.”

“What?”

The last traces of grogginess seemed to trickle from my brain and memories flashed through my mind in quick succession. Horror dug its talons in deep. I choked around a gasp as I realised what exactly that burnt smell was. Bile burnt the back of my throat.

“Oh god,” I whispered.

“What?”

The sound of footsteps cut him off. With dread, I turned my head towards the ceiling of the basement, tracking their progress. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jake doing the same.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Was that my heartbeat or the footsteps? I couldn’t tell, both pounded in my ears like drums.

“He’s coming.” Jake’s hands shook, rattling the chains on the silver cuffs wrapped around his wrists.

“Don’t worry,” I said, forcing confidence into my voice. “We’ll get out of here.”

“Yeah?” He asked the layer of bravado stripped away to reveal the scared kid underneath.

“I promise.”

God, I hope so.

The footsteps grew closer and louder. There was a creak of stairs and soon a cheerful whistle began. Sick freak. It was as if my brain couldn’t decide whether it was angry or scared, flipping between the two emotions in rapid fire. Either way, adrenaline pulsed through me. Not liking having my back to the door I used the tips of my toes to swing me around. The effort caused the chains to rattle above me and a trickle of blood ran down one arm as the silver manacles cut into the soft flesh of my wrists.

Damn it.

The whistling grew louder as the killer thudded down the stairs. Taking a deep breath I forced a blanket of calm to settle over me, determined to not waste a single brain cell on panic. The footsteps came to a stop on the other side of the door and my focus zeroed in on the doorhandle as it slowly turned. The door swung open silently and I quickly raised my gaze to the shadowy figure paused in the doorframe.

They silently raised a hand and flicked a single switch on the wall. Bright lights exploded to life up above and I couldn’t help closing my eyes with a grimace as pain shot through my skull.

“Ah, looks like you’re finally awake Agent Hunter. I was getting worried.”

The words, so similar to the ones Jake had uttered mere moments ago, caused my stomach to flip.

“You bastard.” I hissed in reply, cracking open my watering eyes to glare at him.

Dark laughter echoed throughout the stone basement and Rodrigo stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him. Without warning he lunged forward, his fist slamming into my face with the force of a truck. Helplessly I spun away, feeling too much like a punching bag for my liking. A rough hand grabbed my shoulder steadying me. The side of my face burned in pain and I glared at him. His eyes were bright with maniacal glee, the smile cracking his face edged with more than just a hint of crazy.

“Aw, I didn’t know you could be so sweet.” The words were said with a biting sneer.

Jake thankfully kept quiet at Rodrigo’s entrance, but I could feel the tension radiating off him. I dared not risk glancing back at him, for fear it would divert Rodrigo’s attention in his direction. Despite my efforts, Rodrigo strolled casually around me towards Jake. I swung my body around following his movements.

“Mr. Blair.”

Raising a leather gloved hand, he placed one finger on Jake’s forehead. Jake tried to lean away from his touch but he couldn’t get far.

“So young.” Rodrigo murmured, stroking his skin. His pursed lips flattened into a smirk, “But then again, I’ve killed younger.”

The picture of Charlie Brook frightened and tied to a chair. The same chair Jake was now chained to.

“You get away from him!” I shouted. Rodrigo didn’t move, continuing his awful touching but he did flick his gaze in my direction.

“Oh, don’t worry it’s not his turn yet Agent Hunter,” He paused, nose wrinkling, “actually, I think I should call you Lia. It’s so much more...intimate. Don’t you think?”

I shivered in disgust as he licked his lips. “You can call me whatever you want I’ll still be kicking your ass as soon as I’m out of these chains.”

Straightening, he pulled away from Jake, who visibly slumped in relief. Rodrigo walked over to a table pressed flush against the wall, tutting under his breath.

“Now, now that’s no way to talk. After all, we’re just about to become good friends.”

I repressed a shudder, my hands curling into tight fists. Hoping to distract him I threw out a question.

“Why? Why are you doing this to the Seraphim? To Sandy?”

Rodrigo’s hands fluttered over the tabletop. I swallowed around a dry throat, fearing what he was having so much trouble deciding over. A flash of silver confirmed those fears as he inspected a sharp silver hook.

“It’s simple really,” Rodrigo replied mildly as he wiped at something on the hook, blood probably, “It’s my job to wipe Jaxai scum from the face of the earth.”

He replaced the hook, instead picking up a deadly looking silver dagger, smiling happily as he examined it in the bright lights.

“And Sandy?” I asked intently, as eager for answers as I was to stall feeling the cold touch of that blade.

He glanced over his shoulder, his face filled with disgust, “A...unfortunate assignment. But sacrifices are necessary in order to save mankind.”

“Assignment?”

Apparently satisfied with his choice in torture device, Rodrigo skilfully twirled the blade in his hands, facing me once more.

“A divine mission given to me. Me." He said grinning, ecstatic at being chosen for murdering innocent people. “The others were so jealous. But I was the chosen one.”

Clearly, the man was insane. But who was the one pulling the strings? I had a bad feeling the mystery scarred man was the one in charge of this whole horrific operation. Figuring it was better to play along rather than rile the armed crazy guy, I forced myself to nod.

“You must be very important,” I said, keeping my voice coaxing.

Rodrigo’s face lit up like a kid’s on Christmas. Childish delight practically leaked from his every pore.

“Yes! I’m not like the others, I’m special. The Supreme Leader told me himself.”

Shit. Not good.

The Supreme Leader was the official name given to the leader of the purists. A mysterious figure who controlled the whole operation from the shadows. Nobody knew what he looked like or at least they never lived long enough to tell anyone. If he was the one responsible for all this shit, then things just got a whole lot worse.

Goodbye frying pan, hello fire.

“You’re a purist?” I asked.

Rodrigo stalked towards me coming to a stop inches away from my dangling body. Raising the knife he pressed the flat edge against my cheek. The silver was cool against my skin and although every instinct in my body was screaming at me to pull away I remained still. My eyes stared steadily at Rodrigo’s face, taking in his flushed cheeks and glazed eyes.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jake lean forward in his chair, straining against his bonds. Pride and worry battled flared inside me at his instinctive response. He was just a kid, but he was braver than some people I’d seen twice his age. Regardless though I wasn’t about to let him make himself a target to this psycho’s attentions.

“I am,” Rodrigo replied, entranced by the sight of the blade. Twisting his wrist, its sharp edge dug into my skin. Blood welled from the shallow cut, dribbling a path down my throat. The wound stung but I refused to let myself flinch in response.

Keep him talking Lia. Keep him talking so he doesn’t slice you to ribbons before you can think up an escape plan.

“Then why were you in a relationship with Sandy?”

Rodrigo finally pulled the dagger away, taking an annoyed step back.

“Are you going to be asking questions the whole time? It’s rather annoying.”

Psycho boy didn’t like his torture sessions to be interrupted? Well too bad. He picked the wrong person to abduct.

“Yeah, well let Jake go and I promise I’ll be a model captive.”

It was a shot in the dark but I was willing to try anything at this point. I needed to get Jake out of here in one piece, no matter what it cost.

“So eager to feel the kiss of my silver, Lia?”

“What can I say,” I forced a shrug and a lazy smile, “I don’t like to share.”

Rodrigo blinked in surprise before a laugh barked out of him, “I won’t deny you present a very tempting offer, but no. Not yet, at least. I need the boy for later on. But don’t worry I assure you I’ll make it quick for him.”

His eyes glinted with malicious intent as he trailed them over my body, “With you, I’ll take my time. Savour each drop of blood, every scream.”

I felt panic trying to take control of me, to swamp out reason but I pushed it back. Reclaiming the space between us, Rodrigo raised the blade to my other cheek. This time digging into the soft flesh with the tip of the blade.

“Wait!” I shouted desperately, unable to help a wince as the knife dug deeper with the word, “You never answered my question.”

Sighing, Rodrigo stepped away again, scowling at me.

“You know, you’re being very rude.”

Said the serial killer.

“I just want answers. Afterward, I’ll shut up, as long as you answer my questions.”

He looked at me thoughtfully, before placing his blade down with another sigh. Leaning back against the table he crossed his arms.

“Fine, but only because no-one else has been able to appreciate my genius yet.”

“Thank you.” I choked out.

Getting egomaniacs to talk was far too easy.

He smiled and for a brief moment, he looked normal. Like the guy who was sitting in Hutch’s office, crying over his dead girlfriend, begging me to catch the killer. To catch him.

“Sandy?” I prompted softly.

He waved his hand through the air, “Like I said she was an assignment given to me by the Supreme Leader.”

“What was the assignment?”

“I was tasked with insinuating myself into her life. Into her bed.” He spat the words with disgust.

Clearly, the man wasn’t too caught up over his dead girlfriend. But the fact he’d stabbed her through the chest with a silver dagger might’ve already given that away.

“But why?” I asked, my brow wrinkling in confusion.

“To gain access to the Seraphim, of course. How else was I supposed to be able to enter the Aviary? It was too easy really. Sandy, oh she was all too willing to become my girlfriend. After all what better a way to support her vile cause than to date a human? The stupid woman couldn’t believe I’d actually done it. Not until I shoved a dagger straight through her heart.”

“But if you had access to the Seraphim through Sandy, why bother involving Quinn?”

Uncrossing his arms, he leaned forwards, hands gripping the edges of the table so tightly his knuckles bleached of colour.

“See that’s the pure genius of it all.” He replied, the craziness creeping back into him, “If you kill off a few Seraphim, their forces will be weakened. If you trick them into going to war you crush them all.”

Realisation dawned far too slowly, “You wanted us to suspect Quinn. Heck, you practically laid a trail of breadcrumbs in his direction.”

“Yes, all you had to do was draw attention to him and let the rest fall into place.” He glared at me. Pushing off the table he took a few quick steps in my direction, “But you wouldn’t let it go. You were so convinced that Quinn wasn’t the killer.”

“So you bombed my apartment,” I said softly, feeling the stirrings of that black rage simmering inside me.

“It was nothing personal...well, sort of. You’re still a dirty half-breed after all.” He waved a hand through the air, his anger leaving him as quickly as it had risen. “Anyway, it no longer matters. After the Seraphim discover my latest gift there will be no stopping the war from happening.”

I didn’t want to ask my next question. Dreading the answer I knew was coming.

“What did you do to Harry Lumbard?” I rasped around a dry throat.

Rodrigo’s lips twitched. “I think you already know Lia. After all, I had to make room for my new guests.”

Uneasily I turned my head towards the chair. Looking down, I stared at the puddle of dried blood beneath it. My eyes slid closed as I tried to hold back the torrent of emotions that threatened to pull me under. I could hear Mrs. Lumbard’s phantom sobs in my ears, the sound ate away at my soul.

“Question time is over now, I think.” Rodrigo’s voice cut through my thoughts and I scrambled for a way to buy more time.

“Wait,” I called out but he turned around and picked up his dagger once more.

“No, I think I’ve been more than patient. My poor blade is starting to feel neglected.” He licked his lips as he ran his gaze over my tense body. “I can’t wait to hear your screams. Something tells me it will take a lot more than a few cuts to break you.”

Walking over to me he brushed a curl of hair away from my face. Leaning in close his warm breath fanned my ear.

“I think we’re both going to enjoy discovering what will.” He whispered into my ear.

Lightning fast he whipped the blade across my skin, cutting flesh, drawing blood. With each slice of the blade, I forced my conscious to retreat deeper inside my head. Disconnecting my mind from the torture happening to my body.

At first, it seemed to work, as Rodrigo added bloody lines to my skin like it was a scorecard, I could almost pretend it wasn’t me. And then he put down the knife, slipped a pair of brass knuckles over his leather gloves and reintroduced me to more pain.

Time seemed to bleed into nothingness. Instead, all I could think and feel was the pain. The all-consuming, never-ending pain. I could no longer hold in the screams that poured from my mouth. I was only vaguely aware of two other people’s voices. One that laughed and one that pleaded with the first to stop.

I knew brief moments of peace, the seconds where the torture would pause. In those small moments, I gathered my strength. Building up my crumbled defences as Rodrigo would select another torture device.

I would focus on my breaths, no matter how stuttered they were.

I would remind myself that I still lived.

I would gather up the strength to look at the devastated Jake to remind myself why that mattered.

And when Rodrigo once again descended upon me with my newest hell clutched in his blood soaked hands, I plotted my revenge.