Forbidden by Liliana Carlisle

CHAPTER 26

AMELIA

There’s someone screaming.

It starts as a low, dreadful moan. But it turns into a high-pitched squeal, the sound so piercing it resonates in my eardrums.

It takes me a moment to realize the screaming belongs to me.

A hand slaps my face, startling me awake. I open my eyes and see Doctor Travers, who regards me with disgust.

“We have another six hours, Amelia. I can’t handle another six hours of those sounds coming from you.”

I try to move, but I’m frozen.

I’m slumped over in a chair, my arms and legs useless weights. The tingling in my stomach and the desperation in my core disappeared, replaced by a numbness. To my left is a small window with a view of the ocean below us.

I’m on an airplane.

“I can’t give you too much more medicine, or you may not wake up.” Doctor Travers continues, clearly enjoying herself. She’s in the aisle seat across from me with an empty seat between us. “And I’m making way too much money off you to deliver damaged goods.”

She sounds like a horror movie villain. I want to slip back under and forget this nightmare, but I force my eyes to stay open.

“I need you awake for this part.” She maneuvers me like a doll, easily moving my head closer to her. “We have to do this just right, so stay still.”

There’s the rustling of her bag beside me, and I spot something silver out of the corner of my eye.

“This is going to hurt,” is the only warning I get, and there’s a knife in my neck.

At least, that’s what it feels like. Metal touches metal and the pressure disappears, replaced by a dull burn.

I whimper as she wipes the area roughly with a cloth. “The chip is gone, and you’re good to go,” she says, showing me a bloodied napkin. A small piece of metal rests against the white tissue. “Now, you’re rarer than any diamond, and worth just as much.” She pushes me off her, and I fall to the side of the seat, the armrest hitting my ribs.

Her words send a chill through me. “Why?” I whisper. “Why would you do this?”

“The money.”

She offers no more answer than that, and I bite my lip to keep from screaming.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

Silence.

Think, Amelia.

If I want to get out of this alive, I need to save myself.

And I’ve been through too much shit, endured too much, fought my illness too long to let myself fall victim to whatever this is.

Trafficking.

Miles above the ocean, flying through the sky, the Collectors can’t save me.

I wonder if Lucy knows I’m missing. I wonder if she told Jakob.

I wonder if he cares.

The hours pass, and I gain more control of my limbs. I force myself to stay awake and not give in to the gentle caress of the drugs.

I look to my right. Doctor Travers is asleep, her brown hair falling into her eyes as she leans forward. Her bag is in the seat between us, still unzipped and open.

I clumsily move my hand, doing my best not to disturb her as I feel my way around the leather. My hand catches on something cold and sharp.

Scalpel.

I grip it in my fist, trying not to make any noise as I lift my hand out of the bag.

My hand shakes, but thankfully, the blade is on the outside. I was able to grip the handle.

I hesitate for a moment, then attack.

I’m not sure what I was hoping would happen when I stabbed her. There’s no escaping an airplane—but her arrogance and nonchalant attitude about my life spurred me on.

With an unsteady jerk, my fist connects with her chest.

She screams awake at the first stab, but I keep jabbing her as hard as I can. It’s unsteady and awkward, but I get a few more in before blood runs down my fist.

Male voices yell as large hands push me down. There are putrid scents, musk mixed with acid, and I almost vomit. There’s a sharp pain in my arm and I fight to keep my eyes open, but it’s useless. The scent still haunts me as I lose consciousness.

As I’m pulled back under, I realize I’m smelling Alphas.

* * *

I wake up as I’m being dragged off the plane.

The two Alphas hold each arm as my feet trip, unable to keep up with their pace. I catch their scent again and gag.

They’re mated, most likely. Or they’re just evil bastards, and my newfound Omega senses can recognize that.

I’m just grateful that they’re not attacking my body.

A black SUV with tinted windows waits for us at the end of the tarmac, and I’m hauled into the backseat with them. I squint my eyes shut as a headache hits me.

They mutter something in another language to the driver, and we take off.

We ride in silence.

The Alphas don’t look at me. They don’t speak to me.

I’m thirsty, hungry, and have to pee.

My uterus cramps, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to die from the pain. I force myself to breathe in slowly, desperately holding on to what little control I have left.

I do my best not to think of Jakob.

We finally arrive at an industrial park, the signs written in a language I can’t decipher.

“Nyet,” the driver says, and I recognize the Russian word for ‘no.’

Am I in Russia?!

But there’s no time to wonder as I’m hauled to my feet. The Alphas walk me towards a worn-down building.

We’re in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by empty fields and dark skies for miles.

No one’s going to find me.

I’m thrust through the front door, then down a dark corridor, followed by an endless number of stairs. The stairway is dimly lit with red light, providing a dim outline of the decrepit pathway.

“She needs more suppressants,” a deep female voice barks once we reach the bottom of the stairs. “Give her water, too.”

They thrust a bottle into my hand, along with two giant pills that I’m not sure I can swallow. I lose my footing, falling awkwardly into an Alpha’s chest. With a grunt, he shoves me forward.

“Hurry, Omega,” the woman snaps, a slight accent in her voice. “We need to prepare for the show.”

What show?

I stare at the pills in my hand, confused, when the woman comes into view. Her straight black hair is parted down the middle and her blood-red lips pull into a sneer. Sharp nails squeeze my mouth open, and she shoves a pill down my throat. As I sputter, she squirts the water bottle into my mouth.

“You better not spit that up,” she snarls. “Swallow it, Omega.”

I choke it down, tears coming to my eyes.

“I’ll take it from here.” She snaps her fingers at the men and says something in Russian.

They leave, and she walks me down another corridor, gripping my upper arm painfully.

The building seems to go on forever. As we walk farther down, I hear muffled whimpers and whines. A sickly sweet smell fills my nostrils.

We stop at a door with a keypad. She punches in a code, blocking my view, then hoists me by my shoulders inside.

I hit the carpet with a thud and struggle to stand up.

It looks like a cheap motel room. A simple large mattress sits in one color with white sheets. There’s a dresser with a lamp on the bedside table.

The room has no phone or television. There’s just the simple furniture and small shower and toilet, with no door separating it.

And no windows.

“You will shower,” the woman snaps. I turn to look at her. In the light, her features are much more severe. The angles of her face are sharp and severe. Her eyes are so dark they’re black, and her hair falls down over her shoulders in a straight, inky wave.

She looks like a witch.

“Undress,” she commands. “Now, Omega.”

She pulls something small and black from her pocket with a square handle. She presses on the sides and a burst of crackling light appears.

It’s a stun gun.

“This doesn’t leave marks. I can use it as many times as I want.” She gives me a menacing grin, looking my body up and down. “Undress, then shower.”

I close my eyes and force myself to obey. My hands shakily yank down my underwear and leggings, the air cold against my most intimate part. Dried fluid stains my thighs.

“Already so wet, and with suppressants?” The woman clucks. “You will be worth a lot. I can smell you from here.”

My cheeks flame as I stand in front of her, shaking.

You will survive this.

The crackle of her weapon makes me jump. “Finish,” she snaps, and I hastily toss my dirtied shirt off and unclasp my bra.

“Hmm,” she says, running her eyes slowly up and down my body. “Very good. You will wash twice. You will shave your entire body. If you try to fight me, I will use this on you. Are we clear?”

As I nod, she grabs my arm and I flinch. She pauses and rolls up my sleeves. A frown forms on her face when she sees the purple and green splotches that decorate my arm.

“They were too rough with you,” she states. “That’s a shame. They must only hurt you on the inside.”

They must only hurt you on the inside.

I’m going to throw up.

Weak from hunger, shaky from the sedatives, and encumbered by the pounding in my head, I have no strength left to fight. I step into the small shower and close my eyes against the steam, letting it clear my head. I clean myself, scrubbing deeply, washing away slick, grime and blood.

And when Jakob’s face fills my mind, I finally allow myself to cry.

When the water runs clear and I’m left smelling like generic soap, I emerge from the shower and wrap myself in a thin towel.

Keep going. You will survive this.

The woman is waiting for me on the bed with a bundle of clothes and a pile of cosmetics.

“We will prepare,” she says simply.

Dread tugs at my chest. “Prepare for what?” I whisper.

“The auction.”

* * *

I learn her name is Vanya.

She tells me as she helps me into the bodice of my dress, lacing up the black corset so tightly I have to lean back against her.

“You remind me of my Omega,” she says casually as she paints my lips in a color similar to hers. “Very tempting. Unfortunately, I am not allowed to bid.”

It takes a moment for her words to register.

“You’re an Alpha,” I gasp.

“Yes, a female Alpha. Very rare,” she confirms, smoothing lotion into the tops of my thighs.

“Then…why…” My words trail off, and her fingers dig into me harder.

“Why do I do this?” She asks, smoothing down the black skirt of my dress.

I nod.

“How do you think I got my Omega?” She chuckles. “I was one of the few without a mate.” She applies makeup to my bruises and the scab on my neck. “It’s almost showtime, Omega. Stand up. Let me see the final result.”

“The Collectors will come for me,” I blurt out. She raises an eyebrow, amused.

“They will not. The Saviors have too much power here.”

She helps me stand up and I look at her, confused.

“That was an idiotic thing to say,” she chastises. “From now on, you don’t speak unless spoken to. You smile at every pair of eyes that look at you. You understand?”

I shiver.

I don’t answer her quickly enough, because she brings out her weapon and crackles it.

Fire dances across my skin. I jerk back in pain, losing control of my limbs.

“Tell me you understand.” She orders, holding me up against her body. I fight the tears that fill my eyes.

“I understand, Vanya,” I whisper.

I chant my mantra in my head, willing myself to believe the words.

You will survive this.