Katya ate everything sent to her over the next three days. She didn't try to escape - though she did secrete away the over-the-counter pain and flu medication she found in the bathroom, not that it would do her much good - and she didn't try to use telepathy. Instead, she concentrated on strengthening herself using exercise routines she downloaded off the computer console on the wall. That computer only allowed her to access the most basic of sites, but that was fine. She had what she needed.
Pushing all the furniture in the living room to the walls, she made a space where she could stretch out and begin to put her body back into shape. She even cleared away the glass and porcelain shards, loath to let Dev see how deeply he'd hurt her. Her focus was on getting strong enough that she could take the opportunity to escape when the chance came.
And then . . . she had a nightmare to face.
On the fourth day after she'd been knocked unconscious, Dev finally returned. She ignored him as she began to go through her stretching routine. He came to a stop at the edge of the cleared space. "Pack your stuff. We're moving."
Excitement uncurled in her gut, but she kept her face expressionless. "Where?"
"You'll be near Ashaya."
She was already shaking her head. "We discussed this. I can't be trusted around her."
"That's why you'll voluntarily take a mild sedative."
Her stomach dropped. "No." It would disorientate her, leave her helpless. And she was through with being helpless.
Dev folded his arms across that chest she'd slept so peacefully on mere days ago. "Fine. Be ready by ten."
She could feel her fingernails biting into her palms. "Who's going to punch me to put me to sleep?" she asked, furious enough to draw blood. "You?"
He walked out without answering, shattering her new-found calm.
Tag was waiting outside Katya's room when Dev walked out. "Didn't go well?"
"She won't take a sedative."
"Did you really think she would?"
"No." He wouldn't have either. "But since both you and Tiara are going, she needs to come with us when we go see Sascha. And no way can I take her in when she might be a threat. Lucas'll slit my throat."
"There is another option," Tag pointed out. "Glen could put her into a medically induced coma while we're gone."
Dev felt his entire body hum with violence. "We do that, it's torture." It'd break her, put her back in that room where she hadn't been able to see, hear, touch.
"Yeah." Tag blew out a breath. "You have a little bit of telepathy - can you tell when she's using her abilities?"
"Now that I know to watch for it - if I'm close, yeah."
Tag straightened his big body away from the wall. "Then stay close. Close enough to physically incapacitate her if necessary."
Dev's stomach roiled.
"I'll do it." It was a quiet offer from a man who knew Dev better than most.
"No." He stared at the door he'd only just stopped himself from slamming minutes ago. "She's mine."
"Your responsibility, you mean." It was a very deliberate reminder.
"Don't worry - I'm not being led around by anything other than the brain in my skull." Not anymore.
"Well, she's a pretty thing now that she's started to fill out." Tag shrugged. "And we all know how you are with the helpless ones."
"But she's not exactly helpless, is she?" He almost felt a sense of pride in her. God, how fucked up. Yet . . . if she had been telling the truth - if she'd survived not only torture, but the destruction of her mind, her personality itself, shouldn't that be a cause for pride?
"No." Tag's agreement poured cold water over his thoughts.
"What are you going to tell Lucas?"