Hold Me Never (Holding Never) by Natalie Kristen Read Free Book Online Page A

pulp. But it's worth a
try.
    I jerk backwards suddenly, twisting towards the wall
which is fast closing behind me. My movements are sudden and fast
but unfortunately, the guards are faster. They must have really
quick reflexes, or maybe they have escorted too many captives through
this wall, so there's just nothing they haven't seen. Their big
hands shoot out and yank me firmly back into position between them,
and drag me roughly down the corridor, further and further away from
the wall. I watch the wall close completely, and the sliver of
bright light vanish.
    Panting, I force my eyes to adjust quickly to the dim
interior. I seem to be in some sort of corridor, rather than a room.
The floor feels hard and cold, unlike the soft, plush red carpet in
the Palace. The stone walls on either side of me look rough and
unpainted. The tiny overheads lights above me are spaced very far
apart, so that there are more shadows than light in this long
corridor.
    The darkness and the sound of my ragged breathing and
dragging feet drive a sense of despair and desperation through me.
With a jolt of panic, I begin to struggle and scream. My screams
come flying back at me, magnified and multiplied by the echoes. My
own voice sounds alien and mocking, and my shrieks begin to sound
like hysterical, demonic laughter. All my kicking and screaming does
nothing to slow down the two guards. They march me steadily to the
end of the corridor, and press a button. A door slides open and I
find myself in a small elevator. Crowded between the two burly
guards in the small space, I fall silent. The descent is short and
swift. Just one floor down. I stare at the buttons on the side
panel of that tiny lift and realize that there are floors below and
above this one.
    Before I can scrutinize the buttons further, the
elevator door opens and I am pulled out and frogmarched a little
distance to a steel door. The door swings open almost as soon as we
stand in front of it.
    I am shoved into a brightly illuminated room. The
guards don't come in with me. The door closes silently and I whirl
round to find myself in a large, clinical room. I squint against the
harsh fluorescent lighting to see beeping machines, computers, tubes,
wires, needles, tables and trays filled with all sorts of strange
instruments in the room. In the middle of the room is a long steel
table, with metal cuffs dangling from the sides and ends. I freeze
as I notice two figures in the far corner of the room. A
bespectacled man in a long white coat turns around and regards me
coolly. His thin sandy hair forms a frizzy halo around his lined,
pinched face.
    “ Name?” he asks, with a frown.
    “ Huh?” is the only sound I manage to make.
    “ Your name,” he repeats impatiently.
    “ Z-Zoey...”
    He glances at the computer screen by his side and nods.
“Zoey Whard. Yes. I'll examine you in a minute. Undress and
lie on that table.” His eyes flick to the steel table.
    “ What?”
    “ Take off your clothes. Lie down on that table,”
he says slowly, rolling his eyes. “Wait for your turn.”
    “ My turn? For what?” My mouth falls open
when the second half of his instructions sink in. Lie down on
that table . The steel table with the metal cuffs hanging from
it. “No, no, no!”
    When I keep backing away, shaking my head repeatedly, I
hear him blow out a sigh and step away from the corner. I gasp.
    A naked man is standing in the corner, his back to me.
His closely-cropped hair is completely white and his skin is tanned.
His body is lean and long, and his back is covered with badly healed
scars. When he turns his head to stare at me over his shoulder, I
glimpse a scar zigzagging down the side of his face. His startling
green eyes meet mine, and his eyes seem to blaze with an icy, emerald
fire. I back away, averting my eyes from his raw, naked form. His
arms and thighs are corded with muscle, his body covered with scars
and barely healed wounds.
    He turns brazenly to his side, not bothering