Rising Tomorrow (Roc de Chere Book 1), Mariana Morgan [epub e ink reader .TXT] 📗

through the training. It might have been only a few months, but it was eternity when being treated like a piece of property. And not even a particularly valued one.

So when a handsome Sergeant Dalhström offered to help, the temptation was too great.

Work in the factory was exhausting, and the workers were, of course, mistreated by the overseers, but at least they did it more out of boredom, rather than because of a vicious streak that needed satisfying. More importantly though, the factories had to deliver a high production rate, and maiming the workers didn’t help with that. So while the abuse continued, it was easier. It didn’t hurt so much. And there were no nano-hells in the factories.

By accepting Dalhström’s offer, Ortega had put herself right in his clutches. It was the first and the last time she had been naive enough to believe someone might simply help her out of the goodness of their heart.

That there was no goodness in anyone’s heart that she could rely on was a lesson Molina Ortega had never forgotten. Everyone always wanted something in return. Dalhström had wanted a fuck toy to call his own whenever he had the opportunity. Luckily, young Sebastien Dalhström, although already a traitor and a sonofabitch, had known very little about torture and sadism. His psychopathic tendencies were still in their infancy.

‘I’d rather spread my legs to survive than kill,’ Ingram growled.

‘Yes, I do remember that. A silly little girl, straight from the slums, who thought she had what it took to survive in a world governed by the Elite. But really, the only thing she could do was give out all her holes for a good fucking.’

The bait was no longer working. In her youth it would have, but Ingram had had many years to make peace with what she had to do to survive. That was something Wagner would never understand; he had never made peace with his past.

You just ran away from it and murdered anyone who could ever connect the two.

Somehow, in the last few minutes, Ingram’s thoughts had become more logical. She could actually feel the calmness and mental focus returning, and she smirked inside. Whatever Wagner had injected her with before she had woken up was wearing off, and she could almost feel her mind and body back under her usual control. Or some sort of semblance of it, at least.

Throwing in her face how she had given up and run, yes, that still haunted her, despite having forgiven herself years ago. Being reminded of the whore she had needed to be to survive? Oddly that made her feel rather good. She had survived and found what she wanted—relative safety—without needing to betray anyone. Wagner was the true loser; he had got nothing in return but a fleeting moment of physical satisfaction.

Some things never change. You’re still the true loser, Ingram thought, and allowed a sarcastic smile to split her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out as she shivered violently. There was a disadvantage to her drugged state wearing off, as physical awareness doubled. It wasn’t until that point that she noticed the vents blowing cold air onto her still soaked body. She could no longer feel her hands or feet. It wasn’t just the blood loss that made her sluggish. The cold was rapidly depriving her of any remaining shreds of energy.

‘Maybe I should compare notes, to see if you still feel nice and tight. On the other hand’—he waved his hand with exaggerated theatricality—‘you’re probably rather loose and well worn by now, so I think I will pass.’

Ingram smirked. With every second he continued talking, she could feel her mental strength returning even though her body was trying to switch off on her.

‘I pity you,’ she whispered, her teeth clattering. ‘All those years perfecting your killing skills, and you’re still just doing the dirty work for others. A simple errand boy. What is it this time? Paying for the fuck-up at Givors? Or are you still in the doghouse for letting me and DCI Gonzalez escape from the 4th and keep Eloise Moretti alive?’

Another hard backhand slap rattled her abused body, but she almost didn’t notice.

‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ She cackled like a maniac and spat out the blood pooling in her mouth, noticing with satisfaction that some of it landed on Wagner’s shoes. The look she got sent shivers down her spine, but it was worth it. Turning his pitiful efforts at making her angry back at him felt rather delicious.

‘Is that really how you bought yourself Wagner’s identity, Sebastien? By killing? A Leech for hire? You just turned on your own, didn’t you? Just a common traitor.’

Fire flashed in his eyes when she used his Leech first name, and Ingram’s reality blurred as he hit her again, this time his knuckles digging into her cheek. She heard no loud crack, but there easily could have been one, given the blinding pain.

‘It’s Commissioner Louis Wagner, Elite,’ he bellowed.

‘No, it’s a killer for hire, Leech traitor Sebastien Dalhström.’ Ingram pronounced each word very carefully through her swollen lips, enjoying his quandary. ‘And yes, if you intend to punch me again, or pump some PX-47 into my bloodstream’—she nodded at the syringe he still held in his hand—‘I suggest you brace yourself for a long wait while my body shuts down from the abuse. I reckon it’ll be a couple of hours before we can continue our lovely chat. You have the time to spare? Your masters might not be impressed.’ She tried to force a laugh out, but her body shivered, cutting it off.

There was clearly something he wanted from her, beyond the pleasure of torturing and killing her, or he would have shown no restraint.

Wagner visibly shook, trying to restrain his rage. The bitch was supposed to be weak from blood loss, and confused and hallucinating from the drugs he had pumped her with. Her focused eyes and the cunning