Page 7 of The Nephilim's Finesse

I was surprised. Victorija showed no signs of any reaction when I entered or talked to her. She had herself well under control.

Alissia pressed her lips together and didn't meet my eyes. “And then there's the part that I didn’t tell Nate. It was so tremendous that I tried to change the dream. I was captured in it, I couldn't get out, and I didn’t want her to suffer any longer despite what she had done to my friends." Alissia gulped. "I broke the cuffs, and she got up and ran. But not to break free, to escape the cell. No, she ran into your arms.”

Alissia looked at me and searched my eyes for a reaction. I frowned. Why would she do such a thing?

“Of course, I couldn’t see your face, you never do that in your dreams, but I know it was you. She had all the details right, even your scent. Anyway, she ran into your arms; you were holding her tight, and she felt belonging and security being surrounded by your muscular arms. She looked up smiling, and you kissed her. Then I woke up.”

Alissia made a pause so I could digest it.

“I don’t know if she has Stockholm syndrome with you or if something is going on between you two. I didn’t know if that would get you in trouble, if there were something.”

She looked questioningly at me. I shook my head, but if I was honest with myself, there was something between us, although I’d convinced myself it was one-sided. The fact that she might be attracted to me, too, was new and promising. I felt hope rising within me.

As if sensing my thoughts, Alissia continued, “Please don’t use this against her. I know she’s our enemy, but to have feelings for someone and this person betrays you by taking advantage of it… If that’s happened before, no wonder why she’s so bitter.”

“What do you suggest?”

Alissia looked surprised and thought about it for a minute. “At least, take away her chains. If you sympathise with her, maybe that’s a basic way to get her trust. But this is a thin line, and I don’t know where this would lead. If you get the answers we need and then the decision is to hold her captive forever or kill her because she's too dangerous, would you do this then?” She sighed. “And if you get feelings, who said that she wouldn’t play you? Her dreams show what her subconscious wants, but that doesn't mean she would ever act on them.”

3 Victorija

After I told him he shouldn't look at me that way, he barely graced me with a glance for the next few days. I was so stupid for calling him out. In my experience, he'd take that as an invitation to do exactly what I told him not to. But I had, in a sense. What was wrong with me?

Every time he walked in, the air started to sparkle, like electric bolts cruising between us. It made me mad. Waiting all day long for the time when it'd happen, every time, the uncertainty of whether he would act on it or not. I heard his accelerated heartbeat; I smelt the blood that was collected in his nether regions, knowing full well that he was aroused when he saw me. Heretofore, the men raped me because I was too pretty; I had to be punished because they couldn't behave themselves. That it was my fault they were such monsters; usually, they'd never do such a thing. Yeah, right.

Then they used to rape me to show who had power over the situation, break me, make me talk, or punish me for whatever they had excuses for. Mostly, those motives went hand in hand. I guessed I’d been here for a few weeks now, and he hadn’t even touched me.

The days after I called him out were even worse than when he looked at me. It was like I didn’t exist at all. I felt like a human being when he devoured me with his glances. Now, I felt like an object. Sitting in this cell all day and night was so boring. Every minute, every hour, was the same; nothing happened, nothing changed. Time ticked slowly away, with nothing to do but stare at the wall and be lost in my thoughts. When he was there, at least something happened. It was so hard not to ask him for a book to pass the time. But I wouldn’t give him any opportunity to turn my wishes and needs against me. I was dependent on him to get blood; this was bad enough. There was no way that I'd beg him for more.

After a few days of looking past me, his eyes found my body again, like he couldn’t look away. Then his glances got longer, and he started to lick his lips once more. Like now, when he asked me for the hundredth time with whom I worked and what my plans were.

I looked at him, my hands over my head but my feet on the ground. Instead of answering him, I asked what had been on my mind for a few weeks now. “What do you imagine when you look at me like that?”

He was startled, surprised that I spoke. Raph cleared his throat, licked his sensual lips anew, and came closer. He was inches away; I could smell his breath, the shower gel he used, his unique odour. He watched me, focused on my lips, and I held my breath.

“You really want to know?” he grumbled in his deep voice. A shudder went down my back, and I could only ‌nod. His eyes scanned over my lips, down to my neck, and paused at my breasts before they wandered down to my legs.

“It's not proper.” He stroked his throat and grimaced, curling his lips upwards. Raph stepped back, robbing me of his warmth. I didn’t know if he was disgusted with me or himself.

“I want to know.” I fixed him, willing him with my eyes to tell me so we were both on the same page.

“Would you answer my questions then?”

Of course not. I said nothing, and he just nodded, satisfied with my reaction. It wasn't proper, he said. Laughable. As if it would ever be appropriate what a man wanted to do to a woman. I just wanted to know how bad it was.

He released the cuffs, and I could wash and dress myself. We were in our routine again, like every day. I'd watch his broad shoulders and muscles until he turned around again, and I got back into the chains, waiting for him to come back.

My mood hadn't improved in the time I had been here. I was pissed at Raph for keeping me prisoner without any change in the situation, and my loathing had only increased as I sat in my cell waiting. As soon as he walked into the room, my heart rate spiked, and my palms began to sweat. I could feel my face flush with anger as I avoided his gaze, unable to even look at him without feeling a seething hatred deep within me. Yet, today, something was different. He had no bucket or clothes with him. I could see several Nephilim outside in the hallway. What had they planned? What would they do to me?

When Raph came in, I was in my usual position with my hands over my head; he studied me for a moment until the door closed behind us.

“We’ll transport you to another facility. I’ll sedate you.” He held up a syringe. Oh no, not good. I knew it was fruitless, but I pulled at my bindings. Not knowing what was happening to me was the worst. Was the calm before the storm over? Would they put me in a torture chamber?

He waited until I stopped pulling at my chains, and the rattling died away. I shot him a look of pure animosity as he took a step closer, and I could feel his warmth radiating from him.

“You wanted to know what I imagine?”

I stared at him. “Do you still want to know?” Irritated at his change of topic, I nodded. I didn’t have a clue why he'd talk about it right now, but maybe he wouldn’t use the syringe on me if I played his little game.