Page 30 of Hair, She Bears
“What did you do to Malik?” she asked, pushing up on her arms, biting back a whimper.
“I punished him.” Mother straightened, his iron grip lifting her from the floor.
Her hands flew up and grabbed his wrist, her fingernails carving deep gouges in his skin. With her hair wrapped around his fist, he dragged her through the tower, her heels scraped along the cold stone floor, leaving a crimson trail of blood from the base of the staircase to the rear of the tower. He discarded her beside the worktable.
“He was your son,” she said, wheezing, and curled around the base of the table.
How much had Malik suffered? A small part of her hoped his death had been quick, even though Mother was not given to displays of compassion. She feared Mother’s discovery of Malik’s interference and his involvement in the destruction of product, had resulted in a torture session to rival any previous exchange she had witnessed.
Wordlessly, Mother yanked her from beneath the table and threw her at the wall. She smashed into the fireplace, just below the mirror, and fell to the floor. Mother advanced, his heavy boots echoing like thunder. She scrambled to her knees, hissing as a sharp pain flashed in her ribs, and her arms gave out. Collapsing, her chin hit the stone floor with a sickening thud.
A short bark of laughter ripped over her head as Mother clumped around the side of the sofa, the tips of his boots pausing at the top of her head. He pressed his shoe into her temple and rolled her face sideways, forcing her to stare up.
“Are you going to beg me to stop?”
“I will never beg you.” She glared at him, tears streaming down her face. “You can’t kill me, you need me to produce your filthy drug.”
Mother removed his boot and crouched, balancing on the balls of his feet. He pinched Zenna’s chin, lifting her head from the floor again.
“You’re correct.” A sinister gleam flashed in his eyes. “But I can hurt you really bad.”
“If I’m in pain, I won’t be able to make Votras Alute.” Her lip trembled. Mother did not understand the word ‘mercy.’
“You will make it, or I will extend your punishment to your parents.” He rose and paced toward the shuttered window, stroking his chin. Snapping his fingers, he spun around, his eyes alight. “How about I give your mother to my men, and they can work out their frustrations on her body? I’m not certain she’ll withstand the attack, but if she survives, you can nurse her back to health with the drug you’ll be forced to create. Your father’s punishment will be to witness your mother’s suffering and to know you could have saved her from that horrific fate but failed.”
“I hate you,” Zenna’s growl rumbled around the room.
Mother crossed the tower, hooked his hand around her hair, and yanked her torso up, bending her backward into an unnatural position. Zenna cried out, her screams rising in volume as Mother torqued her body.
“You took my son from me.” He flung her away.
“He wanted to be free,” Zenna replied, her voice dripped with agony.
Dropping to the floor, Mother straddled her legs, pinning her with his bulk. The stones dug into her hips, slicing up the exposed skin of her thighs. His hands slid up to her shoulders, then constricted, crushing her bones.
“I would have made him a king.” He leaned forward, his pelvis pressed into the small of her back. His mouth returned to her ear. “Why don’t you do to me what you did to my son... maybe I’ll let you go?”
“No!” She wriggled underneath him but could not throw him off her. With a screech, she whipped her head back, striking Mother in the face.
He howled and released her, jumping to his feet. She flipped over and scrambled away, scuttling backward until the sharp edge of the worktable stabbed her spine. Blood gushed from Mother’s nose, streaming down his chin, and dripped onto his boots. He wiped his hand across his face, smearing the bright crimson over his chin. He glanced down at his hand, then lifted his malicious gaze to her.
“If I had known you would be this much trouble, I would have taken your mother instead and filled this tower with my children.”
Zenna gasped. Delight flitted across Mother’s face.
“You didn’t know?” He stepped forward, his lip curled into a snarl. “Your mother offered herself to me to pay your father’s debt.”
“Liar!” Zenna dragged herself to her feet, using the worktable as a crutch. She took a step toward him, her arm dropping to her side. Her fingers brushed over the leather sheath, dipped under her hem, and curled around the knife handle.
Mother’s gaze flicked to her hand. He clucked his tongue. “That would not be a wise choice.”
He waved his hand and vanished. Zenna spun around, her frantic gaze searching the tower for movement. Where had Mother gone? She pulled the knife out and held it up in front of her chest.
“Terrifying, isn’t it?” Mother’s deep voice purred. He wrapped his arm around her torso, crushing her back to his chest. Cold metal pressed into her throat.
“What is?” She stiffened, her heart hammering. The scent of gasoline overwhelmed her.
“Knowing how close you are to death… now, drop the knife.”
