Dark Enemy_Taken Read online

  Pretty standard for a single occupancy jail cell. Except for the door, which was a monster. The thing was at least twelve inches thick, and he knew this because there was a little glass door at the bottom of it and then another one about a foot away.

  So he was in solitary confinement, and they planned to provide his meals through that contraption. Smart.

  Still, he'd expected worse.

  Hell, these accommodations were luxurious compared to some of the places he'd stayed in. And not as a prisoner. The room was clean, free of mildew, and the mattress didn't stink. There was a clean sheet over it and they even provided him with a warm blanket.

  Both smelled new.

  Other than that, there were the requisite cameras, mounted high up on the high ceiling where even he, as tall as he was, couldn't reach them.

  Real clever. There was nothing he could fashion a weapon from, and no real privacy.

  He was going to lose his fucking mind in no time.

  The situation reminded him of a scene from a silly movie he had once seen, Rocketman, if Dalhu remembered correctly. As part of his training for a space mission, the would-be astronaut was locked for twenty-four hours in a container about the size of this room. Passing the time singing nonstop and enacting puppet shows with his socks, he drove his competitor in the adjoining tank insane.

  Maybe Dalhu could do the same. Trouble was, he didn't know any songs, and he wasn't wearing any socks.

  Great, his only entertainment option was thinking about his impending torture and execution.

  Or worse, torture and indefinite imprisonment.

  With a muffled sigh, Dalhu got up and went to check out the facilities. Finding a new toothbrush and a battery-operated shaver inside the niche over the sink was a pleasant surprise. There was no mirror, but then he didn't need one to use either. He brushed, shaved, and showered, then got dressed, putting on his old clothes.

  When he got back to the room, the first thing he noticed was the tray of food in the compartment behind the little glass door, and he took it out. Sitting on the mattress, he placed the tray on the floor in front of him. Again, he was pleasantly surprised—the coffee was excellent and the two sandwiches were loaded with cold cuts. A decent meal.

  Who knew, maybe this was the worst his rich captors could dish out. He doubted anyone had taken pity on him or had cared to treat him kindly.

  Unless, this was meant to be his last meal. Though, if this were indeed the case, they should've at least served him a juicy steak. And a stiff drink.

  Did he dare entertain hope that it had been Amanda's doing?

  Nah. He knew her better than that. She would not have bothered with food. If anything, she would've been on the other side of this door, demanding to see him.

  Yeah, as if there was a chance in hell she cared for him—enough to defy her brother.

  Dalhu wondered whether she would visit him, at least one last time to say goodbye, or forget all about him and let him rot in here alone.

  After all, she'd never claimed to have any feelings for him. And engaging in sexual activity was as meaningless for her as it used to be for him…

  With her, though, it had been nothing but. More like a life-altering experience. He'd been different with Amanda, and not just in the way he'd interacted with her, but on a more visceral level…

  He felt as if he'd been reborn in that cabin, reshaped to become the man she needed him to be.

  Still, it might have been all one-sided.

  True, she'd defended him against her own brother. But there was a big difference between not wanting to see him dead and wanting to be with him.

  Yeah.

  It was time to wake up from the dream and face his grim reality. He needed to get back to the way he'd been before. Ruthless and cold would get him through this, romantic and soft would not. After sorting out his new cache of feelings and memories, he would lock it away inside the minuscule compartment dedicated to the good he'd experienced throughout his life.

  Dalhu finished the last of the coffee and returned the tray to where he had found it, then went back to sit on the mattress.

  With his back slumped against the wall and his elbows crossed over his up-drawn knees, Dalhu buried his face in his arms and delved into his cache of precious memories.

  For a long time, it had been the memory of his mother and sister that had kept him from losing it and surrendering to the darkness around him.

  The sound of his sister's giggles, the image of his mother's indulgent, loving smile—those memories had sustained him during other bleak times, and he'd desperately clung to them for decades. But inevitably, they were doomed to fade.

  Amanda had gifted him with new ones.

  He had so little time with her, and there had been precious few of them. But he cherished each and every one.

  Aside from what he'd experienced with Amanda, and what was left of what he'd once had with his family, there was nothing else in his life worth remembering.

  Hell, he would've paid good money to forget most of the crap he'd been through.

  This new cache would have to sustain him for shit knew how long. If he were to escape execution, that is. But just in case he got to live, he wanted to preserve every little detail of his time with Amanda.

  Click here to Find out what happens next!

  Book 5 in The Children of the Gods Series

  Dark Enemy Captive

  Is Available on Amazon

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