Edge of Insanity

Chapter 2-2

Pain radiated through Edge’s arms. His guards had left them shackled behind his back. The discomfort had finally pulled him from his restless doze. His head still ached, but it was back to the steady throb that he had been living with for months now.

His body was stiff from lying on the cold floor. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he should sit up, but he didn’t have the strength. He kept his eyes closed. In the darkness, it didn’t matter. He could see, but there was nothing to look at except the shadowy creatures that danced in his mind and along the walls.

Behind his back, he moved his fingers and tried to focus on counting. He could feel the claws of whatever beast they had poured into his blood this time tugging at him. Sweat beaded on his brow despite the cold.

The fire was heating up inside him, and he began to shake again. His reaction to the drugs was getting worse. He jerked his arms against the restraints in an effort to reduce the discomfort. As the fire grew to a fevered inferno, he twisted around and struggled up until he was on his knees.

Edge started shaking and his sweat poured out until a light film coated his entire body. His skin crawled with the imaginary insects. An agonized groan escaped him as the feeling of being eaten alive grew. The fireworks in his brain began to explode again, flashing colors at a sickening speed.

Gasping for air, he bent forward and rested his forehead against the cold floor. He squeezed his eyes closed to prevent the burning tears from escaping. He was dying. He could feel it, but he wasn’t allowed to. The voice… The voice had told him he wasn’t allowed to die. She needed him. She had found him, and she needed him.

Who had found him? another part of his brain demanded.

My Amate, the other part answered.

Edge knew his grasp on reality had finally snapped. There had been no voice answering his plea to the Goddess for death. It was a cruel hoax. The voice had been another trick to test his strength.

Straightening up, he parted his lips to shout his denial. He would never give the Waxians what they wanted. He was a Trivator warrior. Death before dishonor.

“Back up,” a soft, feminine voice ordered.

The sound broke through the confusion, calming the chaos. A shudder ran through Edge and he opened his eyes. Along the far wall, he saw the insects that had been crawling over his body disappear.

“Goddess, I swear I will resist,” he whispered. “I will die a warrior.”

A barely audible sigh from behind made him frown. “Yeah, well, tell your Goddess to put your death on hold, sweetheart. There won’t be any dying today if I have any say in the matter. Now, back your ass up to the wall behind you so I can see if I can get those damn wrist cuffs off you. It’s going to be a b***h doing it from this angle,” the voice demanded.

Edge tilted his head to the side. His frown deepened as his confusion grew. Shaking his head, he was rewarded with a wave of dizziness. Falling backwards, he grunted and stretched his legs out in front of him while he rested his head against the wall behind him.

“Why are you testing me like this?” he asked, closing his eyes again.

A soft snort answered him. “Welcome to our world, sweetheart. Life is all about the tests – seeing who passes and who crashes and burns,” the voice replied. “Can you walk?”

Edge was about to reply when he felt a movement against his skin. A shudder ran through him, and he started to shift to the side when he felt slender fingers wrap around his left wrist. Warmth poured through him. This wasn’t the heat of a few minutes ago, but a soothing warmth that chased away the insects.

“Goddess?” Edge whispered in awe.

This time a chuckle answered him. “Darling, you can call me anything you want as long as I don’t have to carry your ass out of here. That would make my life a lot easier. It might even give this harebrained plan a slim chance of success. As it is, we’ll all probably be meeting up with this Goddess of yours for drinks by dinner time,” the voice replied.

“I do not know if the Goddess drinks, or eats,” Edge replied, feeling several tugs on his wrists.

“Yeah, well, I’ll have to make sure I bring a few cases of beer along then,” the voice muttered before uttering a long string of curses that had Edge opening his eyes again in surprise.

“You have very colorful language,” he stated.

Another soft chuckle echoed behind him. “So I’ve been told,” she replied.

The sudden release of pressure on his arms took him by surprise. He slowly pulled his arms around, wincing at his protesting muscles. Bending his elbows, he rotated his arms until the feeling began to come back. Flexing his fingers, he suddenly twisted until he was lying on the floor, facing the wall.

A tiny red light shone from the hole where the grill had been. His top lip curled and he snarled. If the Waxian thought giving him hope would break him, he would show the man he had made a serious mistake.

“Well, you’re still fast, but that doesn’t answer my earlier question,” the voice hissed.

Edge tried to get a look at the face in the depths of the hole, but the red light was shining in his eyes. A low growl shook his frame. He wanted to reach into the hole and drag out whoever was within by their neck.

“What question is that?” Edge demanded, curling his fingers into a fist.

The red light wavered for a brief second, and Edge could make out the delicate lines of a very feminine face. The woman stared back at him, as if she, too, was assessing his features. Her dark brown eyes locked with his in a silent battle.

“Can you walk?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, hoping it was true.

A small grin curved her lips. “Good enough, though if you can run, it will be even better. Expect company in ten minutes,” she replied, turning off the light.

Edge heard a soft scraping sound on the other side of the wall. Unsure if he had imagined what had just happened, he shot his hand out and he stuck it through the opening. He reached as far as he could and felt around the other side.

Then he pulled his hand back, and slowly pushed up until he was in a sitting position again. His gaze ran over his arms while he used his fingers to trace the raw circles around his wrist where the restraints had been. Reaching down, he picked up the metal cuffs in his left hand. His grip tightened around them.

Can you walk? Can you walk? Can you walk?

Her words kept repeating over and over in his head. Unsure, he braced his free hand against the wall and pushed up off the floor. His legs trembled, and he fell against the smooth wall of his cell. Gritting his teeth, he forced his legs to straighten until he was standing.