Immortal Healer (The Immortals, Book 3) Online - Elizabeth Finn

Chapter 1

Seven months ago

Suffocating madness. So much so Abigail thought it might kill her one day. But it never did, not even when she wanted it to. She usually wanted it to. He was torturous, never kind, frequently cruel, always angry, and sadistic as fuck if he could be. He thrust as though her mouth was nothing more than a wet hole made of pliable forgiving rubber. He didn’t much care the back of her throat was a dead end that would have her vomiting if he pushed too far, and she’d vomited more than once as a result.

She couldn’t remember the days of the week anymore. Hell, she could barely remember her own life. She was certain she had one … once, but it seemed long ago, fuzzy, detached. It was as though she knew the life, but it didn’t belong to her. Hadn’t she been in college once? Didn’t she have friends too? Abby could swear she had even been popular, well-liked, smart, Dean’s List even. Now, she was just … alive … if you could call it that. But for how long?

The room the man kept her in was clean, sparse, sterile, and she hated it. It was all she saw anymore. There was nothing beyond the room … except of course his room. She hated it more than even her own. There was nothing to be done about it though. He was different. He was very different. She could nearly feel her mind being pulled apart at the seams when he looked at her. Not always, but when he did hold her eyes, her mind went foggy. It took a long time for her to see the pattern, but she figured it out. And when her mind went blank, she lost what she’d figured out, that realization altogether, and if the realization stayed gone permanently, she was certain she’d easily have stayed in the dark forever. But there was no permanence to it. He was sadistic after all, and one of his favorite torments was making her forget him, just to show up pretending to rescue her from the room she was being held in. That lasted only as long as he chose to toy with her sensitivities before raping her and releasing her memories of him all at the same time. But that was how it worked; just as easily as he could make her mind fuzzy when he looked at her, he could just as easily make it become clear again. And that’s when she saw what he was doing to her brain. That’s when she realized it, knowing well she’d lose the understanding once more when he chose to take her mind again.

She could almost find her real self when he released her memories, but after a while even her real self began to fade, and every time he gave her mind back, there was a bit more missing. She hated the man. She imagined killing him sometimes. She imagined biting down when he stuck it in her mouth, tearing it clean off his body, but she’d seen what happened when one of his women defied him, and she didn’t want to see it again, much less be on the receiving end of those teeth.

He wasn’t human, that was for certain. An animal more like, but with a cruelty you’d never see in an animal. When he left his room on this night, he left her there. Said something about a “treat.” That couldn’t possibly be a good thing. He’d left the door open, knowing full well he didn’t have to worry about her leaving—not with his men guarding the door. She’d had to tolerate them as well, and they were nearly as bad as him. But then there was a commotion. Sounds were all she heard from her place in his room, and she couldn’t tell what was going on. He’d unfogged her mind when he’d pulled her from her room, and in her clarity, she knew it was time to run. Run fast, run hard. She liked to run, didn’t she?

As the men who guarded the door bolted down the hall toward the noise, she grabbed the gown lying rumpled on the floor, and without giving herself time to reconsider, she started moving forward. She focused on her feet, she focused on pumping her legs one after another, and she focused on tuning out her brain that was shrieking like a damn bitch in fear and panic. She felt like a ghost