I don’t bother telling him that I wake up at 3:36 every morning and usually can’t get back to sleep. Or how I creep into the library and sit on one of the couches, staring sightlessly at a book. “I’m fine,” I mumble, nodding firmly like that’s totally going to sell it.
Folding his arms, he watches me closely. “You know, Dr. Giardo can give sleeping aids if you’re really having trouble getting your rest. The Academy is a very demanding school.”
The gossip network here is far too thorough for Suarez not to have heard of my sudden engagement, but I appreciate the effort he’s making. “Thank you, sir. I’ll just clean up here and be on my way.”
He’s frowning, and it’s oddly comforting to see his obvious concern. “You’re one of my best students, Miss Aslanova. But it is also very easy to get seriously injured if your focus is off when you’re handling firearms. My office door is always open if you feel like you need to discuss…” he hesitates, “anything.”
Finding a real smile for him, I say, “Thank you. Truly. I’ve looked up to you since the first day of class and I appreciate you taking me under your wing when I was essentially useless at… well, everything here. I hope I can make you proud of me.”
“I already am,” he patted my shoulder. “I hear you’ll be leaving at the end of the school year. That’s a shame, I think you show great promise.”
“That’s the nicest thing you could possibly say to me. Thank you, professor, really.” I’d like to say something else. Like how I want to stay. How for the first time in my life I believe I have something to offer other than my Bratva Princess position and ability to bear heirs. None of that matters, though. Clearing my throat, I nod. “Goodnight, sir.”
“Get the fuck out of bed!”
There’s a bright light blinding me as someone yanks me off my mattress, landing with a thump on the floor. I reflexively kick out, hitting something solid and hearing a curse.
“Serves you right asshole,” another voice says.
A bag is yanked over my head and I violently head-butt the assailant behind me. Another curse. “Now who’s laughing, asshole?”
They zip-tie my hands and ankles with impressive speed, there must be three people holding me down to get it done. I let out a scream that makes my vocal cords rattle, and this time they all laugh. “Scream all you want, no one’s coming.”
I struggle and writhe against them until they drop me onto the floor, jarring my ribs. “We can roll you down the fucking stairs or you can hold still. Your choice.”
If you’re outnumbered during an attack, save your strength, Lucca had instructed me once, try to determine the enemy’s numbers and pay attention to your surroundings.
After nodding reluctantly, I’m thrown over someone’s shoulder. I count the number of steps, knowing we’re out of my room now, then the suite. There are sixteen steps from the second floor to the first, and then the cold air hits me as we leave the building. I’m in my sleep shorts and a tank top. I don’t hear any guards shouting, so we must not be heading for the gates at the main entrance.
The man carrying me breaks into a brisk jog, which slams me painfully up and down on his shoulder and I grit my teeth until I hear another door open and it’s warmer again. Then there are more stairs, going down this time and it gets chillier as we descend.
I’m thrown into a chair and the zip ties are cut and my hands are re-tied to the arms of a metal chair within seconds. There’s no give, so I’m guessing it’s bolted to the floor. The last thing I hear is the door slamming shut and I’m alone, shivering, and bound to this chair.
Of course. The Interrogation Exam, the RT I. There’s no way an outside force stormed the Academy, kidnapped me, and stayed on school grounds.
“A little dramatic, isn’t it?” I sighed, not expecting an answer.
It’s hard to tell how long I’ve been down here. I managed to doze on and off for a little while, but my hands and feet are numb from the cold, so I’m guessing it’s been a few hours at least. Grimly rotating my wrists and wiggling my toes, I wonder what the plan is. I shut down every nightmare scenario that tries to invade my mind. That’s what they want.
The captive’s mind will handle much of the torture for you, Professor Campbell told us, leave them alone, uncomfortable, bound, and let them envision every terrible thing that they can imagine.
I jump a little when the door slams open. “Good morning, princess. Have a nice rest?”
I say nothing.
My head snaps to the right as someone backhands me. It hurts like hell, but there was a certain amount of control behind it, like they knew just how much force to use.
“Tell me your name.” The voice is unrecognizable. Do they bring in outside talent for the exam? He’s got an American accent.
Don’t answer their questions, don’t be tempted to be a smart-arse. It’s Professor Campbell’s voice in my head again. Everything you say will be twisted to take the interrogation into a new direction you won’t expect. It’s too easy to blurt out information.
So, I say nothing.
It’s then that I feel his hand on my ankle, and my entire leg seizes with agony. A scream rips from my throat as the burning from my little toe sears up my foot like it’s been doused in kerosine and set ablaze.
“Well, damn. You’re a bleeder, huh?” He sprinkles something on my toe that sends another bolt of torment through me and I cry out again. “Jeez, princess. It’s just QikClot powder. You have to toughen up. I yank off one itty bitty pinkie toe and you scream like I chopped off your foot? Though, that could be next. Wanna tell me your name yet?”
Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you I hope you die you evil fuck you fuck you…
Nothing. I’ll never say a word.
“I’ll come back in a while, give you a chance to think about what you want to say to me.” The voice is laced with humor and this does not reassure me. “Are you thirsty?”
Not a shrug, no nodding of my head.
“That’s fine. I’ll give you a drink of water before I go.”
A bucket of cold water splashes on me, drenching the hood on my head and soaking my skimpy clothing. There’s laughter before the door closing cuts it off and I’m alone again.
I shift, moaning as the movement disturbs my toe, beating agony in time with my heartbeat. I’m so thirsty… I tried to suck the moisture from the hood covering my face but don’t get enough to even wet my lips.
It feels like it’s been longer this time, and my thoughts keep drifting back to Lucca, the inexorable gravity that’s always pulled me to him. Is he all right? The few times I’ve seen him in the distance on campus, he always looked so angry. Mariya told me several girls offered to “comfort” him after our breakup, but he ignored them all. Is it wrong that I’ve been so relieved, hearing this? She says Lucca’s sullen and uncommunicative and when she visits Konstantin, he goes into his room or leaves.
Aleks told me that his father sent him an engagement ring for me, some giant, ostentatious piece of crap. He sent me a picture from the purloined iPhone I gave him after programming it to my Skylink account. It gives us a chance to share any bits of information about what’s going on with our families, and it does seem like the influx of soldiers from the Rostova Bratva is helping my brothers in the battle to hold our territory.
He texted me the picture of the ring with an assurance that I didn’t have to wear the thing until we left the Academy. I don’t think I could endure the constant reminder weighing down my arm.
“Rise and shine, princess!”
The door slamming open and bouncing off the wall yanks me out of a fitful sleep. I can’t feel my arms and legs anymore, and there’s a bone-deep shuddering that I can’t seem to stop. On the bright side, I can’t feel my toe, either.