The Fires of Spring

Chapter Ten

Author's note: Sorry for the delay. Also, temperatures are in degrees celsius because I'm Canadian. Don't get confused.

Lilith supposed it was early dawn when she woke next with someone hissing frantically in her ear.

"Lilith. Lilly," said Christopher, once again slipping in a nickname he had never used before.

"What?" snarled Lilith, trying to comprehend something other than the pain that was searing through her, as, moving just a little, she broke the scabs and ripped open the tender healing flesh that had begun to try to smooth over her back.

She was dimly aware of the fact that she would never be able to wear a low-backed dress again - the scars on her back would be too numerous and too ugly - but that was hardly her main concern. Now, she tried to let pain focus her senses, clear her murky thoughts, and sharpen her attention on whatever Christopher was saying.

"There's someone coming," he said.

Lilith was furious that he had heard it before her, but that was no matter. She simply grabbed him by the neck and forced him into a lying position once more.

"Pretend to be asleep," she said. "Close your eyes."

Christopher obeyed and Lilith noted the strange satisfaction she got from it. Christopher was ordinarily such a willful creature that to have him obey her without question was oddly pleasurable.

She took her own instruction, too, closing her eyes and curling close to Christopher. She wondered what was next and could only hypothesize. One option occurred to her as the most likely: torture. But the question was, who?

Would they try to break her? Or, having shown Christopher what they were capable of, take him away? Or would they take them both?

Lilith gave a hiss, furious and frustrated and, though she dared not admit it, frightened.

The door clanged open and Christopher flinched. His behaviour was odd, Lilith noted, for he did not whimper or whine as he had done before. Rather, he clung tight to Lilith and gave a soft, wordless growl of anger.

"Get up," snarled a guard. Based on the tread of boots, there were at least two. As Lilith was hauled to her feet, she counted them - four guards. Three went for Christopher, who was struggling and shouting.

Only one held Lilith, and Lilith did not struggle. She allowed herself to be led tamely out of the room while the struggling and howling Christopher was whacked twice with the butt of a gun until he sagged against his captors.

Now she struggled, surging forward, her voice at its most pleading.

"Please, please!" she said. "Please, don't hurt him!"

No one hit her, but the guard held her back and she, feigning weakness, allowed herself to be dragged after Christopher until they reached a door. One guard threw open the door and forced the two of them into the room.

It was a tiny room, dark, windowless, and far below zero degrees; minus fifteen, at least, based on the feel of it. When Lilith was thrown in after Christopher, the door slammed shut behind them, casting the room into shadow with only a tiny light overhead flickering.

"What is this room?" he said, shivering convulsively. He could not be very warm, dressed as he was, and neither was Lilith, though she supposed that was rather the point of the whole ordeal.

Lilith recognized it as another piece that dated the place as an antique.

"It's a freezer," she said.

"Are they trying to freeze us to death?" asked Christopher, his voice quiet.

"Not right away. Slowly, perhaps," she said. "Another torture, I'd imagine."