Part 48 (2/2)
she sent the white-haired man a wink.
The revolting smell in the torture chamber nearly had her heaving. She didn't want to think of the many things that produced such a repugnant odor or that she could very well be the cause of one of the odors if she remained too long.
Luck was on her side when the guards placed her in a cage that hung from a rafter in the ceiling.
”Good place for you to watch the show tonight and know you'll be next,” one guard jeered.
She spit at him again, and he gave the cage a whack with a heavy stick and sent it swirling around and
around and around.
The two guards laughed as they left the chamber.
Storm held firm to the bars of the cage until it finally slowed. She had to focus her eyes since the spinning
in her head had yet to stop. When she was finally able to see clearly she looked around the room.
She cringed at the various torture devices-metal pinchers, a stretching rack, prodding irons set hot with fire from the cauldron hanging over flames, and others whose uses eluded her. She refused to linger too long on them. Just the idea of what pain they could cause made her wince. She finally spotted a man
chained to the wall, his head hanging down to his chest and his body slumped. He wore only a plaid kilt too soiled to determine the colors. He had long dark hair that was matted with blood.
That he had suffered endlessly was obvious.
”Cullen,” she called out, having heard the guards' footsteps fade in the distance and feeling safe that no one would hear her.
The man didn't move.
”Cullen,” she said more strongly.
He lifted his head, though barely, before it sagged again.
Storm knew what would get his attention. ”Cullen, Alaina sent me to free you.”
His head shot up and she winced. One eye was almost swollen shut, and dried blood caked at the corner of his swollen lip.
”Alaina?” he asked, looking around.
”Over here,” she said, working to slip the knife out of her boot and get started on the lock.
Cullen looked about until he finally saw Storm. ”Who are you?”
”A friend of Alaina. She waits for you near St. Andrew where a s.h.i.+p will take you both to America.”
”How can this be so?”
The lock was easy, and before she knew it, she was free and standing beside Cullen. Looking past his
bruises, she could see the resemblance to Burke. She wished there was time to speak with him, but she
had to make the escape plan clear. Between the two of them, they could incapacitate the men and make
a swift departure.
”Your brother has come for you.”
”Brother?”
”There is no time to explain about your brother. Just rest a.s.sured you have one. This is what we must
do,” she said, and outlined her plan of escape. ”Are you strong enough?”
He looked her up and down. ”Are you?”
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