Hostage to Pleasure

CHAPTER 38

How dare she?

In any other being, it might’ve been called anger, but what possessed Amara Aleine was a stunned kind of incomprehension. She literally couldn’t understand why Ashaya had made the choice she had. Ashaya was Amara’s. That was how it was. How it should be.

As she slogged her way painstakingly through the thick dark of the early morning forest—having been forced to abandon her stolen vehicle when the vegetation became too dense—she tried to order her thoughts, to find sense in the chaos. It was difficult. She wasn’t accustomed to being outside the lab, had never once in her life been in a place so very quiet. And yet it was a quiet filled with things that scurried and whispered, eyes glinting out from behind the massive bulk of the trees in her path.

The ground tried to trip her up every second step, and her hands were bruised from having caught several falls. If she hadn’t had Ashaya’s mind to guide her, she’d have been lost two minutes after she entered this place.

But even now, Ashaya was refusing to answer her calls, blocking her end of their bond. Her twin had been doing that sporadically for years, but today, Amara could feel an increase in intent. More than that, she could feel the other connection, the one that threatened to dilute Ashaya’s link to Amara until it faded entirely. And that was what Amara couldn’t comprehend.

She knew that Ashaya had always had a weakness for emotion. That was a given, part of her sister’s psyche. It interested Amara as everything about Ashaya interested her. But now Ashaya was doing things that defied the understanding between them. The worst thing was, she’d brought someone else into their game.

That was against the rules.

Amara tripped, fell heavily on one knee, and sat there until the physical pain became manageable. As she started walking again, the initially stiff joint loosened up. The second it did so, her attention shifted back to the real problem.

The third player in the triangle. The threat.

She patted the small lump in her pocket, checking to ensure the very special pressure injector, the one loaded with double the dose she’d used on the guards, hadn’t fallen out. One shot was all it would take to kill him. And then things would return to the way they had been. She wouldn’t be alone anymore, wouldn’t be trapped in the endless darkness, her voice Silenced, her other half sliced away with clean precision.

Being alone frightened her. It made her angry, too. Until she had to scream. And when she screamed, the crimson lash of blood stained the world.

Had Amara been rational enough to think, she would’ve questioned the eerie nature of her thoughts—she’d never felt emotion. Fear was as alien to her as anger. Yet both rode her now. However, Amara was no longer capable of seeing the disconnect. She’d stopped being rational a long time ago… since the day the DarkMind first whispered in her ear.