Chapter Eleven- Part One

Yuvi Lastra

Irene Albion

I felt sick.

Sickness so often undulated rather than simply one thing at a time. Building me higher and stronger with every wave, I didn't realize the current had given me such incredible mastery over myself. And right now all those foundations I'd built came crumbling down.

I didn't know how it occurred but it all happened so fast. I was standing, leaning on Yudai as we gradually worked our way up the stairs to resurface to a coordinated attack. Exhausted and caught off guard the team took a hit, collapsing as White Ravens outnumbered the four of us. Yudai was targeted first, then Helen, and then Medina.

I watched as each of them fell, blood spraying everywhere as I screamed for them.

And then I was knocked off my feet, forced into the clutches of one of the enemies, and had my head covered by some brown bag. I felt my eyes force themselves shut against my command to keep them open. And soon enough the next time I opened them I was forced behind bars in some ancient dungeon.

The arrow that impaled me was forcefully removed by my sole kidnapper, face masked with what looked like a voice changer. I could only see the brown pools of their eyes, drowning in some unknown emotion. I felt cold just staring at their abyssal—like irises and opted to stare at the sudden dusty corner of my cell. My arm clung to my injured one, playing nervously with the fraying skin. It took everything in me not to vomit right there as I felt the warm, sickly textured liquid.

Had this been any other time, I'd have fought, but I was wounded and starving and weak. This time no one would come and sweep off my feet, and save me like the damsel in distress that I found myself playing.

I was truly alone.

Fear tickled my heart. Like a feather, I felt light fragments of dread pick at me until I was laughing. Full-on laughing, a roar, a cacophony, a sound so barren it shocked even me. I wasn't laughing because it was fun, no —

I laughed because I was scared.

"Stop that," spoke the person who patrolled my cubicle down in the catacombs of wherever I was. "Stop that laughter."

"Or what?" I taunted, the insanity biting at me, the events at the lab still fresh in my mind: the way I held Archie, the way she held me, the way we clung onto one another surrounded by nothing but lies and deceptions. "Gonna stab me? Sorry, but your friend got to me first."

This was definitely a different person than the one that attacked me and Archie amidst the sea of ghouls. This person had muscle and height whereas the other seemed strangely short and full. However, that never stopped them from moving with agility and assassin—like stealth. I wondered if they were a good shot, seeming as if my arm had been perfectly stabbed, that or they failed to aim for my head.

"You're the prisoner, don't go testing my patience," echoed the robotic voice. The voice changer was eerily annoying.

It pissed me off.

"It must suck to be assigned here stuck on babysitting duty."

"Shut it, Shifter," they seethed.

"Oh you know who I am, always pleased to meet a fan." I winked back, getting closer to the bars.

"Quiet before I rip out your tongue." the guard threatened, getting just as close to the bars as I did until our faces were mere inches apart.

I think what shocked us both was that I really didn't care if they did. They must have seen it in my eyes as I smirked.

"It must suck to be here, beneath rock and stone with the lowly position of guarding this Shifter." I spat the title in the same way they did earlier, matching their distasteful energy.

I continued to rip this person apart, brick by brick, recalling how most heroines tortured their enemies. I copied a famous line from an old work of literature. "I bet your father would love to see you right now, grovelling and angry. Your mother would be overjoyed at the sight of seeing her child all grown up living the best life down here, with me." I whispered the last part as if challenging him to keep to his threat.

The next moment after I spoke I felt a tight grip on my throat, so tight I felt myself choking as the air was involuntarily strained out of me. I found my hands gripping their large ones whilst I grinned my own sickly, sweet smile.

I heard another robotic voice, more feminine and less haggard. In waltzed someone who I assumed was an armed woman as she quoted, "Oh darling dearest, how you woe me with your words."

I stopped, and my breath hitched as the lady instructed her subordinate to let go of me. As they did I'd never been so thankful for the crisp cool air to fill my lungs.

She wore her hair down, black strands covered her face and as she voiced. "Darling Dearest. Published 1957 written by Frank Albion."

"You sure know your stuff."

"Of course I do Irene," she said, her voice serious yet mocking as she took a seat and sat, laying her arms on the back of the seat, "You're the one that taught it to me."

What did she mean by that? I didn't teach her anything, Hell, I never knew her. Let alone know of her. As far as I'm aware I was kept in the dark about most things, it was expected as I was the prized goat everyone wanted. I could figure out that much.

"How do you know me?"

She feigned surprise as if shocked I didn't know. "It pains me to see that you've forgotten me."

Getting a little creeped out I snapped, "Out with it."

"Come now no need to rush our reunion darling dearest," cooed the unknown woman. "Wasn't your grandfather the one that taught you to take your time and live in the moment?"

She didn't give me time to formulate an answer as she continued, "Then again, you vowed never to follow in his footsteps. Ironic since you pursued a path of writing."

This was getting out of hand, I racked my brain for memories of everyone I'd met. Clearly, someone had betrayed us, someone who'd known about my identity had ratted me out to the White Ravens but this, this was different. This was personal. This woman, or girl judging by her short frame and childish demeanour, was out for blood.

And it was mine she so desperately wanted to spill.

I clamoured, confused as I lost control of the situation. This entire place was mad, no wonder Archie wanted me gone. Not because she had selfish intentions or hated me, but because this world was just as sick as my own. Twisted and dirty, barren with raw human hatred.

I hated it.

"Come now, don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you hate me." She paused for dramatic effect, she then taunted, "Don't you remember how you used to play with my hair, you'd mess it up as we kissed underneath that tree in your garden or by that bush in the local park. We'd sneak out at dusk before the world woke up and danced in the rain."

My breath stilled, my heart froze and my mind began rushing to conclusions that shouldn't have been possible. One name rang true in my head.

"Yuvi Lastra," I breathed, unbelieving of the chances.