Taking a deep, shaky breath, she pulled away but didn’t break the handclasp, her eyes on Banli House. Her nightmare, he thought, to be vanquished. And she’d do it with shoulders squared and head held high.
He was fucking amazed by her.
“So many people touched me and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Orderlies, doctors, nurses. Enough that I began to tune in to them.” She dashed away the tears that had escaped her, stared unflinching at the facility in the distance. “Sometimes they were being nice, trying to calm me during a panic attack after I’d been strapped down, but it just made it worse—at least three of my care staff had worked with the criminally mentally ill, had horrible things inside their heads.”
Her fingers flexed, squeezed his hand again.
“I was drowning in their lives and it was driving me mad, but I had to pretend the therapy was working, that I was getting better. Even when I slept, I couldn’t let myself go too deep—I had to be awake enough to fight the nightmares. I was in there for five months.”
24
Janvier thought of how strained she’d been in Nazarach’s home, her energy contained tightly inside her skin, and couldn’t imagine how she’d survived the hell of having her mind violated over and over again. “Were the walls—”
“No,” she said, anticipating his question. “Banli House is too young to have become a living entity to my senses. It’s safe for the time being—and if I’d been able to choose my caregivers, choose the ones who had quiet, ordinary minds, I might have been okay.”
Janvier saw she didn’t believe her own words; his Ash wasn’t meant to be trapped and caged. Like a bird with its wings clipped, she would sicken and die. “How did you get out?” he asked through the rage that was a flood shoving against his senses.
“I convinced them I’d stabilized enough that they started to let me out on the grounds.” Tiny lines flared out from the corners of her eyes, her expression wondering. “To this day, I don’t know how I did it. It was as if I put on a different skin like Naasir talks about doing—beneath that skin, I was one step away from total fragmentation.”
“You were tough even then.”
A fast, unexpected smile. “Yes, I was.” The smile faded too soon, her eyes drawn toward Banli House again. “I wanted to run the first day I glimpsed freedom, but I fought it. I knew they were watching me.” Pausing, she lifted their clasped hands, rubbed her cheek against the back of his.
It was a punch right to his heart.
“So I did what they expected me to do,” she said after lowering their hands again. “I sunbathed and read books like the addicts who’d gone through detox. After a while, the staff stopped paying as close attention to me. Then late one evening after final bed check, I squeezed out a window I’d wedged open, and I ran.”
Janvier clenched his jaw, his entire body trembling with the storm inside him. “Where was your brother during the time you were in this place?” he asked, not sure he could ever be civil to the man again.
“Don’t blame him, Janvier,” she said, to his surprise. “I can’t forgive him, but I know why he did it.”
“No reason can excuse such abandonment.” He would’ve died for his sisters, would’ve slayed dragons for them. “A brother is meant to protect.”
“That’s the thing.” A pained whisper. “In his mind, that was exactly what he was doing.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “It wasn’t until I was in here that I understood why he couldn’t stand to be around me once I began to know things I shouldn’t, once I ran to him as an eleven-year-old scared of the ugly things I’d glimpsed in the mind of a teacher who turned out to be a child molester.”
The hurt in her voice as she spoke of her brother’s rejection was old, long accepted. “In that last, Arvi didn’t let me down. He had the teacher investigated, and the man ended up behind bars.” A squeeze of Janvier’s hand. “He’s not a bad person, my brother. He’s just . . . I think I’d better show you why Arvi is as he is . . . Why I am as I am.” Her eyes went to the facility in the distance. “We have to go inside.”
Banli House grew bigger in front of Ashwini as they approached it, a bloated beast with glowing eyes.
No, she thought, forcing her jaw muscles to relax, aware she was seeing the facility through the gaze of the scared, confused girl she’d once been. Banli House was no beast; rather, it was a hiding place created by the wealthy to dump their problems where the world couldn’t see them.
Janvier brought the car to a smooth stop in the circular drive, near the steps that led to the entrance. There were planters on either side of it, a small manicured evergreen in each, and the fan-shaped lead glass above the door glowed from the light beyond. “It looks so warm and inviting, doesn’t it?” she said through the choke hold of fear and old panic.
It was never easy, walking through those doors. But if she didn’t do it every single time, the fear would win, it would own her.
Janvier braced his arm along the back of her seat. “This place wounds you. We don’t need to be here.”
“No. It’s important.”
“Then I am with you.”
Ashwini skimmed her eyes over him; he wasn’t wearing any visible blades or guns, but she knew he was armed. “Keep a careful eye on your weapons.”
Not questioning her instruction, Janvier gave a small nod.
The front door of Banli House opened as they exited the car and she saw Carl was on duty again tonight. Neatly cut hair, straight white teeth, and creamy skin, his features symmetrical, the nurse was as attractive as every other member of staff. Ashwini had always found that strange. What did the owners think? That rich people didn’t want to dump their embarrassments in a place where those embarrassments might come in contact with the less than attractive?
“Ash,” the nurse said when they reached him. “It’s good to see you again so soon.”
“Is she awake?” Ashwini knew the answer even as she asked the question; the woman she’d come to see had always been a night owl . . . and “clock” time had little meaning to her now. She woke and slept to her own internal rhythms.
Carl nodded, his eyes skating to Janvier. “Should I place your guest on the cleared list?”
“Temporarily.” There was no guarantee Janvier was “safe” in this context until Ashwini had personally cleared him.
Leading them down the hallway, Carl stopped in front of the door to the familiar corner suite. That suite was a lovely one, complete with a private sitting room and a bedroom that looked out over the grounds. It was also padded and devoid of anything that could be used as a weapon.
The antique furniture was bolted to the hardwood floor through the padding, the sheets replaced by fine blankets that couldn’t be torn up and turned into a noose, the fresh flowers displayed in plastic vases that couldn’t be shattered and used to slit the wrists. However, when Carl opened the door after his polite knock received a “Come in,” from the other side, the modifications weren’t immediately apparent.
One of the myriad reasons why Banli House was so expensive.
“Your boots,” Carl reminded her.
She turned to Janvier, having forgotten the routine act in the wake of the sense of loss that so often overcame her here. “You have to take them off.” A heavy tread could damage the padding.
Janvier ran his hand over her hair, in the oddly tender way that tugged at her heart, before bending to unlace his boots as she unzipped her heeled ones. They placed them to the right of the door.
Then Ashwini looked into the bayou green of his eyes one last time, drinking in the way he felt about her at this instant before everything changed . . . and led him inside.
Carl didn’t come with them, but she knew he’d remain nearby in case he was needed to administer a sedative. Ashwini could tell no sedative would be needed tonight at first sight of the woman who sat by the windows, a serene smile on her face.