Fear me, Love me

Forever Property

Chloe was on her knees. Blood pounded in her head as she stared down at the cobblestones. The slavers clicking filled her ears and rain ran down her dirty face in the place of tears. Shakily she got to her feet. She was alone - a lamb in the wolf's den. A slaver cracked a whip in warning. She remembered well the lash of a whip.

She'd assaulted a demon at her second prison camp. The beast had taken a swipe at a child - one of its claws raking the little boy down the face splitting a gaping seam down his cheek. She'd knocked out one of its fangs - the force had cracked her knuckles. The shrieking creature had set upon her. She'd pulled the child under her and covered the poor crying infant - bracing herself so that she didn't crush him as each vicious lash cracked against her spine.

She counted the slavers surrounding her. This body had never been whipped - it was scar free and unbranded. She stood with calm dignity."Don't let your intentions show on your face." She remembered the advice her instructor had given her. "You're a pretty girl - they won't be expecting your skill - use that to your advantage." It seemed a life time ago that she'd been Chloe Wilder - personal bodyguard for the Prime Minister. In a way it was a life time - this was her second life, this time playing the part of Lauren Fox - former lover of the world's most evil man.

She kicked back and her foot collided with the nearest slaver. The impact juddered down her leg and the creature was sent sprawling backwards. Furious clicking filled the air as the slavers closed in on her. She fought but ultimately it ended with her on the ground - beneath the lash of a whip once more. She held still - her blood mixing with the mud and clenched her hands into fists. The blood continued to pound in her head and she trembled as adrenaline coursed through her.

They dragged her back onto the auction platform. The crowd muttered, buzzing like bees and there was an air of excitement and curiosity. Chloe glared up at the bidders staring down at her from the balconies. She hunched her shoulders defensively and held her chin high as the bidding commenced. A shock bid sent a thrill across the courtyard. Chloe's stomach tightened. The crowd took a long time to settle down and Chloe could feel the many eyes following her as she was led away.

In this smaller courtyard her gaze snapped to a piece of equipment she recognised. She gritted her teeth, fighting to contain the violent shaking as her muscles spasmed in fear. Clawed hands firmly held her right arm locked in place. Chloe scrunched her eyes shut and a whimper escaped her clenched teeth. Her ears were ringing, her head had begun to swim and her stomach to rise and fall like the stormy sea by the time they finished their crude tattoo. She looked down at her new branding. The large R stood out bloody and swollen on her pale wrist - claiming her forever as the property of Ezra Ryder, head of European Slave Trade Company.

The vehicle they were transporting her in was crackling with magic. Chloe's breath fogged before her blue tinged lips and she stared with wild, frantic eyes at the black ice. She covered the bloody branding on her wrist with her hand. The skin throbbed painfully - still ablaze and sweat gleamed on her forehead, soaking into her greasy hair. They'd shut the doors and then blue flames had resonated through the walls. She'd expected them to burn and not to bite.

Gritting her teeth she got to her feet. Doors sealed shut with ice - it was fairy tale. Tears gathered in her emerald eyes. She'd fought at the fall of London. She'd seen the frozen dead walk. A tear spilled over her lashes and rolled down her bruised cheek. She gasped, her trembling breath catching in her throat. Suddenly she punched at the black ice. It was tomb - a tomb of winter and loneliness. Excruciating pain made her bend over, cradling her hand.

Screaming she set upon the ice hacking at it with her bare fists. Hot blood oozed between her fingers and down her swollen wrists. Moaning, she sank to the ground. The truck swerved and she caught herself - a soft whimper escaping her lips. Panting raggedly for breath she wrapped her arms around her knees. She was trapped. She was enslaved once more. She rested her forehead against her knees. This time she'd lost her face also. Or perhaps her mind.