Chapter Fourteen

 

When Ivy woke from the restless snatches of troubled sleep she'd managed to obtain, she was able to see clearly again. However, her wrists were still tied to the metal bed frame and her ankles were lashed to the foot of the bed at each side, spreading her legs wide apart. She wriggled, hoping to get enough leverage over her bounds to work them loose, but there was next to no give in them.

 

Birdsong trilled through the open window, and the bustle of Ubersneller in the early morning drifted in as the village greeted a new day. There was a freshness in the air that she was far from taking for granted, after growing up in the slums of the west where pollution was a constant presence in their lives. The coolness of the breeze made her shiver.

 

Eva's corpse had disappeared, but Honigbaum sat on a metal chair beside the bed. The musky tang of his stale aftershave repelled her. She scowled, but he simply watched her in amusement until she gave up, exhausted and angry.

 

“Awake already? That's great, I want you to enjoy the procedure,” he said. "I want us to bond over the experience, and start to embrace that we're going to be parents together."

 

"Go to hell!" Sneering, she held his gaze fearlessly. “Force me to do this, and I will ensure your child grows up to hate you.”

 

“Actually," he replied calmly, "I think you'll weaken in that resolve when you realise that alienating me will lead me to separate you from them forever. I have thought this through. You are the only woman who can help me form a proper relationship with my son. But if you don't deliver, I'll replace you with a willing substitute when our children are still young enough to be convinced that the new wife really is their mother. Don't push me, Ivy.”

 

Her certainty faltered in the face of this rationality. It was horrible that he'd surveilled them and knew all about their lives. An enemy I didn't even know I had. And he knows every last one of my weaknesses, even though we're complete strangers.

 

Underneath Honigbaum's calmness, however, there was an ache for a family that she had no trouble detecting, but which would make him even more dangerous to deal with. When a man wants something this much, he'll do anything to achieve it, she thought.

 

She scowled as he ambled to the door. On the threshold, he popped two more of the pills she'd seen him take last night. “Took it out of me a bit that struggle with you yesterday," he murmured. "Just going to the medical centre for supplies. Be back in a moment, honey, and we can get started.”

 

He closed the door gently, and she devoted the next ten minutes to tugging frantically at her bounds, trying to loosen them so she could slip her wrists through, but the knots were tricky and complicated, and she only succeeded in tightening them. When he returned, he inspected her carefully, chuckling under his breath as he guessed what she'd been up to. Fetching a pill bottle out of his pocket he playfully shook its contents. The tapping of the tablets on the plastic jarred her nerves.

 

“More sweeties for your heart?” she mocked.

 

Unmoved, he showed her the bottle. “Ovulation medication. Pretty strong stuff, but you'll be ready to conceive in only a few hours.”

 

As she turned her head away, he perched on the side of her bed to loosen her wrist restraints. She shifted upwards until she was lying back against the pillows, eying him warily the whole time. He took her hand, opened the bottle and tipped a single flat white tablet onto her palm.

 

"Don't make me do this," she whispered. "You long for a child to love you. No son or daughter would view you other than with contempt if they find out about this. There is no going back once they find out."

 

For the first time, something like uncertainty passed across his face, but he was soon the master of his emotions once again. “By the time our child is born, you will love it so much you would never hurt them in that way. I'm doing this for you, too. Something to make up for everything you had to struggle with as a child. A baby to love and to provide with a better life than you’ve had so far, so you can break the cycle. For me, too, if we can, and above all for Don. I’d like him to have a sibling, a stepmother and a father. You can give him all of that. I just want him to be happy.”

 

He gently raised her hand towards her mouth until the tablet tumbled inside. She swallowed despite its disgusting taste, resisting the urge to vomit. As the moments passed, a warm flush set in and she clutched her stomach as the pains began. Blood seeped between her legs. He watched it all with a slow satisfied smile on his face, but it faded into concern when she burst into tears.

 

“Don't worry, Ivy. All perfectly natural. Fertile women go through it every month. The cycle of life. Rest up for a couple of hours. I’ll pop back mid morning. See if your bleeding’s stopped. There’s another pill to accelerate the fertile part of your cycle so that you can conceive today.”

 

Shame poured over her at what lay ahead. She burst into tears all over again as he stroked her hair. His touch was disgusting. “Tears and anger," he murmured. "Welcome to the Curse. That’s what fertile women call it every month. I understand it can be really quite unpleasant. I'll see you later, honey.”

 

He went over to the door. The three different locks clicked into place as he locked it behind him. Their grinding mechanisms were very deep in tone and their resonance echoed for several seconds. Engrossed in his delight at possibly becoming a father, he forgot to retighten her restraints before leaving. She smiled at the opportunity this might present.

 

She lay down and closed her eyes, trying to relax despite the cramping pains. Tears pricked her eyes in sadness at the prospect of what was to come. She had ached for a child in the last couple of years, but her dream had become a nightmare.

 

*

 

As he woke, Gerald stretched and yawned. He opened his eyes and rubbed his hands through his hair, as he always did when he first woke up in the morning, but everything else was strange and unfamiliar.

 

It took him a moment or two to register this wasn’t his bedroom at home on Willow Drive. Memories of yesterday flooded back, and only seconds after waking he was already exhausted with grief and disgust. The worst pain of all sank into his heart and lurked there, disabling his usual relaxed poise and making his muscles ache deep within. He was unsteady on his feet, and his brain was clouded with nausea.

 

He went into the bathroom, queasy at the news of his father's death and hoping that vomiting would clear his head. As he bent over the toilet bowl, the bedroom door opened and a woman’s voice called out, “Gerald? You okay?”

 

When he returned to the bedroom, drying his face on a hand towel and feeling a little stronger, Sinistra was standing in the room. She smiled alluringly as she took a step towards him, but he ignored her overtures. “Despite everything you did to me yesterday, I feel fine,” he said coldly.

 

“You were happy enough to make the running,” she countered.

 

“Save your breath. I have nothing to say to you. Nothing would induce me to sleep with you again.”

 

His snide tone took her aback. She fiddled with the items on the desk and wandered around the room, buying time to gather her thoughts. Perching on the bed, she slipped off her shoes and reclined against the pillow.

 

“I’m leaving," he snapped. "I don’t care what's going on out there. It can’t possibly be worse than what you'll subject me to if I stay.”

 

She toyed with the top button of her lilac shirt. “I spoke to my sister. I was trying all day yesterday, and she finally answered my messages this morning. I told her you were here. All comms are likely to be compromised with the unrest, so she didn’t say more.”

 

He frowned. “I’m going. None of your business where. I’ve nothing to say to you or Hendra.”

 

Ignoring him, she unbuttoned her shirt, but he dashed past her to the door. He yanked the handle, but it was locked. She meandered over, laying her hands on his shoulders, stroking them and trying to draw him back over to the bed.

 

He shook off her touch, disgusted by her proximity, but she simply put her hand on his neck more firmly and squeezed. He twisted away, shoving his elbow into her abdomen. He knew just where to hurt her most. The muscles were rock hard. She knew the blow was coming and was prepared for its impact. She didn’t flinch, even though he had thrown all his strength into fighting her. Instead, she gripped his neck harder.

 

Even when he kicked out, she absorbed the force of his second blow without difficulty. No matter how wildly he twisted, her fingers remained tight around his neck. He kicked her shin in one last attempt to disable her, but she growled at him, shoving him back over to the bed.

 

Landing against the frame, he took a blow that made his head spin. He scrabbled up and kicked out at Sinistra again, but she caught her balance and righted herself, gripping his throat with a new viciousness.

 

“Love a bit of lively foreplay. You're putting up more of a fight than I expected, but you'll have to be much gentler when I'm carrying your child.”

 

“Damn you, bitch!” he wheezed.

 

Forcing him to his knees, she released her grasp to let him breathe. She stood right in front of him until his face was level with her crotch. She took another step forward and straddled his knees. Reaching down, she stroked his hair, but he pushed her hand away irritably. He waited until his breath was back before wriggling free and dashing for the door. He yanked on the handle again, but it still wouldn’t budge.

 

She walked up behind him and rubbed her breasts against his back. “Door’s locked, and it's gonna stay that way 'til I decide otherwise. I’m always randy in the morning. Bet you are, too.”

 

Utter despair engulfed him, and he closed his eyes in loathing. He spun round, shoving her away. “I’m not having sex with you, and I'm not giving you a child.”

 

She inched back, a glint of mischief playing in her eyes. “Sure? Because all it took yesterday to get you in the mood was a couple of drops in a glass of water. Sooner or later, you’re going to want a drink. I can wait.” She chuckled. “That’s what this is all about. Tailing you to Blackacre on Sunday night. Bringing you here. Keeping you with me. I’ve had more than enough of my sister gloating over being on your dad’s arm. He’s gone. Now I get to drink from the well, too.”

 

The revelation that she had been anywhere near his relatives, when he couldn't remember anything at all about the last three months, cut him. Was anyone he cared about safe from her machinations?

 

“We had sex yesterday at my most fertile time," she added. "Like most men having casual sex, you didn’t bother to ask about contraception. Guess you took it for granted that was something for the lady to sort out.”

 

Blind panic enveloped him at the idea of this monster carrying his child. Tormented with visions of what she might give birth to, he staggered over to the bed and collapsed onto it. She sat down next to him and stroked his hair, but he wriggled away from her touch. “You’re not fit to be a mother.”

 

She drew away sharply. His barbed comment rattled her. Both the force with which he delivered it and the content took her aback. A terrible expression of pain crossed her face before she conquered it ruthlessly. She unbuttoned her shirt, slipped it off and let it drop onto the floor. She pushed him down onto the bed, and when he wriggled away from her she clamped his wrists against the bed frame and tied him down. He struggled wildly, but there was an insane strength to her determination. He kicked out until she tied his feet, too, and his humiliation was complete.

 

“How does it feel not to be the strongest person in the room?” she mocked.

 

“I’m a doctor. I’m never the strongest person in any room.”

 

“You’re funny. Well, let’s hope our baby inherits my strength and your brains,” she said, sounding tired of the struggle they had just engaged in. He sneered at her, but she smiled back with a coldness that chilled his heart. “Get with the programme or find yourself a part of it, Gerald. I can do far worse things to you than make you have sex with me. Want to be unconscious while we drain your sperm and use it to impregnate brain-damaged women? Underling suggested that yesterday.”

 

As she unzipped his fly, he struggled in vain to avoid her touch. She rubbed between his legs, but he remained flaccid. He smiled triumphantly, but she leant over and fetched a small pot of ointment out of the bedside table. Undoing the lid, she smoothed some onto her fingers and rubbed him. "This should do the trick."

 

A burning arousal much stronger than anything natural tightened in his crotch. No matter how little he wanted to do it, this stuff was already tipping him over the edge. Soon, she would be able to force herself on him. He closed his eyes and tried to block out what was happening. He tried to think about other things, to focus on the prospect of rescue. For the first time in his life, he prayed to a deity he’d never believed in that rescue would come soon.