Taken By Storm Part 48

She knew what he meant. In order for her to free Cullen, she would have to be sent to the torture

chamber. By morning at the latest, though tonight might be better, but then she took the chance of being

tortured to the point of being useless.

"They like to torture at night," the man advised. "It would be best if you waited to be sent there tomorrow."

"Tomorrow night is the escape."

"I will be ready."

She laughed along with the man, since how ready could he be?

"When you free me, I will walk on my own. I give you my word," the man a.s.sured her.

"Do not worry. Regardless of whether you can walk or not, you will come with Cullen and me. I will not

leave you behind."

"Bless you," he said, and Storm caught the glisten of a tear in his eye.

She had a decision to make. Did she take a chance and be sent to the torture chamber tonight, giving her

time to see to Cullen's condition and to determine their escape? Or would tomorrow provide her with

enough time?

"Don't go tonight," the man cautioned. "Anger them tomorrow and they will take you and leave you there to think about your fate. It will give you the time you need and spare you the torture."

"You are wise in their ways."

"I have been here many months. I know their ways and how they think. Many of them like to gather at night to watch the tortures."

"Which leaves the other guard posts empty," she said, happy to learn that bit of information.

"The guards believe themselves safe since there are many guards that patrol the outside."

"I need not worry about the outside."

He nodded. "You have help."

"Plenty of it once we leave here," she a.s.sured him.

"Then it's up to you, me, and that Cullen fellow."

The night proved difficult for Storm. Sleep eluded her, her thoughts on Burke and her aches painful, not

to mention that the guards took great delight in coming into the cell throughout the night to deliver a few

more blows to her body.

She wasn't sure when morning came since the cell had no window, so there was perpetual darkness, but her fellow inmate alerted her to sunrise.

"It is the workings of the prison that keeps me informed of time. Wait a few hours and cause a commotion that will irritate them. They will remove you fast enough."

"How do I determine nightfall?" she asked.

"The guards gather at sunset to fill themselves with food and drink before torture."

Storm nodded. "I will return for you."

He nodded. "Be careful. You are a wee wisp of a thing."

"An observation that usually proves fatal to many," she informed him with a smile and began to make a commotion.

It was spitting at the guards and calling them cowards that got her yanked from the cell, but not before

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?"