by Helen Scott
When had that happened?
When had I gone from Cinderella by the hearth to a woman capable of making grown men piss themselves?
It hadn’t happened overnight, that was for damn sure.
“What was on the blade that stabbed my mate?” I asked the first one, stroking a nail down his bare calf, digging deep enough to make him whimper.
His greasy black hair and pale skin made him look more than half dead. In the time we had been keeping them here, the three of them had lost a significant amount of weight, some of which I figured was due to withdrawal from Kronos. I’d heard them going through withdrawals even through the soundproofed basement and their gags.
“Nothing, we didn’t put anything on the blade,” the guy whispered around a gulp, his breathing was shallow, pained.
I ripped the IV out of his arm faster than he could draw his next breath and shoved the gag back in his mouth just as he started to scream. The blood from the IV bag was dripping on the floor so I closed it off quickly while I let him bleed as much as he could. Then I moved to the next guy.
“Same question.”
“We didn’t poison our weapons, but—” He squeaked as I reached for his IV, and I paused and waited for him to continue. “—if something got on it by accident, it wouldn’t be impossible. I mean, we’re drug addicts for fuck’s sake. I didn’t even know what we were doing until the last couple of days when I started to sober up.”
“That’s not how the drug works,” I said, reaching for the plastic tube and needle once more.
“It’s how it works on pursangs. Everything rushes by like you’re trapped in slow motion, or goes by so slowly you feel like you live a year in a day. I’m sure it’s different on Stained and humans, but I’ve never really paid much attention.”
So, this was Elizabeth’s boyfriend.
I eyed him, saw the attraction instantly. Even underweight, underfed, and in agony, his hair was a rich blond, his face like that of a male model’s.
Had his beauty been her fall from grace? The ultimate temptation?
“Where did you store your weapons?” I demanded.
“I don’t know where we were. I was high as balls. We—” His voice cut off as I shoved the gag back in and pulled the IV free from his arm, wrapping it up so it didn’t spill blood everywhere but he was pursang, and the blood was even more imperative for him than it was for his human cronies.
“Where did you keep the weapons?” I questioned the third guy.
His eyes strayed to the man on the floor, Mr. Mummy. I knew that the IV would make no difference to him; that wasn’t what he was scared of. He didn’t want to be turned into the living dead, like his buddy who was hovering on the brink of death but unable to slip into its sweet embrace.
I called my demon cat forth and let it prowl around for a bit, silently instructing it just to scare the men that I was questioning. Of its own volition, it hovered around the object it had helped me create. I wasn’t sure how the cat had done what he had, wasn’t sure what I’d done either, but we’d drained the life from this male while keeping him on the brink of death. If that wasn’t worthy of a gold star, I wasn’t sure what was.
“Unless you want a repeat of what happened at the bank,” I murmured in a soft voice, “tell me where you kept your weapons. Tell me everywhere you took them that day, and the day before your failed robbery.” I didn’t know when, but at some point, my hand had found its way to his throat and was squeezing, while my pursang rose to the surface. She was hungry and the smell of blood was almost too much for her to ignore, but it wasn’t their blood she wanted.
The third man started whimpering and the stink of urine perfumed the air. I pulled on Rav’s gift, but nothing came. It made me realize just how much he’d pushed himself since he didn’t have anything to spare for me to piggyback off of. Though I wanted to grumble at the inconvenience, I improvised.
“Tell me, little boy, or I’ll let my kitty cat have a snack.” My lips turned up into a sneer as the cat approached the piss-covered junkie.
“I- I- I—” He stuttered a few attempts at talking before he crumbled under the pressure and started crying. Huge gulping sobs that shook his whole body. I was surprised he had the energy for that much of a response.
“Well, now what the fuck am I going to do with you, huh?” I waved my hand at the sniveling wretch who was so scared of me that he’d pissed himself. Pussy.
“P-P-P-Please, I don’t want to die.”
“Have you seen anyone die yet?” I inquired, arching a brow and turning to encompass the four men who were still alive, barely, but breathing nonetheless.
His forehead furrowed in confusion as snot and tears dripped down his face. When one nostril started blowing a mucus bubble, I had to turn away. That was something I just didn’t want to watch.
Even though I wasn’t looking at him anymore, I could still hear it, a squelchy noise combined with hiccups that didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon, and it was all a little much. I almost broke, almost let the pursang out to play, knowing she would paint the walls with their blood. I held on by a sliver of my own determination and sanity, because if I gave in, then it would all be over.
The whole time I was fighting for control my brain was working on what he had said. For a moment I didn’t understand, and then I realized that Rav hadn’t only been going through their minds looking for answers, but had been giving them illusions, mentally torturing them.
Who knew how many times this man had seen the deaths of his friends or even himself, only to have to watch it over and over again?
My mouth tightened at the realization. There was so much they could work with between Rav and Keir’s powers, especially if they added mine into the mix. But they’d kept me upstairs. Determined to work on these bastards alone.
Why hadn’t they wanted me down here for that? Why didn’t they want my help? It was like they were allergic to asking me for anything.
My skills were useful and I knew I could have helped. Even if it was just Rav’s mental illusions combined with my physical ones, it would have broken these three open like eggs on a mixing bowl.
And dammit, now I wanted cake.
Cravings were a bitch.
Raven
When I woke up, there was a hot body next to me.
And when I said hot, it wasn’t Marcella. Nope, this hot body stank of dog and had shitty breath.
“Barclay, what the hell are you doing in my bed?” I asked groggily, and the sound of my own voice made me jump.
I was drained.
Really, really drained, and even as the thought crossed my mind, my recent actions hit me like a freight train.
I’d packed everything into the past few days, reinventing the wheel where my gifts were concerned. Marcella’s link to us as a brotherhood had enabled me to do things I’d never done before, but I’d had to think outside the box in an attempt to get the humans to break.
No matter what I did, they wouldn’t, and I was starting to fear they just didn’t have any answers.
They’d pissed and crapped themselves so many times the stench made me want to vomit, and I had to believe that I’d have broken them by now if there was anything to break.
Barclay, at my demand, opened his eyes and yawned. Straight in my face. I tried to heave him off the bed but the bastard was heavy and wouldn’t budge, and because I didn’t want to hurt him, I didn’t put a shit ton of effort into it…
Okay. That was a lie.
Three hundred pounds of wolf was too much for me to shove in my current weakened state.
I needed blood.
Fast.
I groaned when Barclay leaped up and slobbered all over my face, before jumping off the bed and heading out into the hall.
It was dark out, but, and it was weird as hell, I could suddenly sense the time of day from Cade. It wasn’t night, but early morning. Five twenty-six to be precise.
Cade had an inbuilt clock?
That was pretty c
ool, I had to admit.
The darkness was gentle on my vision. After two days of being in the overbright basement to stop the humans from sleeping, my eyes were tired, but I studied the bedroom I’d claimed as my own because it was easier than moving.
Darius’s idea of digs was far swankier than ours. I could get used to this kind of luxury too. The beds didn’t crawl with only the Maker knew what—and trust me, our senses picked up on the movement of bed bugs. It didn’t matter that the parasites would die when they gnawed on our skin cells, Marcella had slept hunched over a plastic dining table on the few occasions we’d slept anywhere that wasn’t our vehicle because she was icked out.
This place was the complete opposite. It was comfortable and warm and hell, if we didn’t have to move, I wouldn’t complain.
A yawn sounded over by the doorway, and I looked over and saw my mate. She was wearing one of Gideon’s shirts by the looks of it, and her cheeks were drawn, her eyes tired as they caught mine and held for a second.
“Marcella,” I breathed her name, tasted each syllable.
In a way, I couldn’t believe she was ours. But what I couldn’t believe the most was that she was ours safely. Darius’s presence in our unit came as a complete surprise, and not exactly a pleasant one, but it was worth it, so damn worth it for her to be ours with no fear of further retribution from a council that made Dracula look harmless.
She padded over to the bed and climbed in next to me. Her hand slid over my belly as she cuddled up to my side.
“No change,” she whispered, and my heart sank. I mean, I’d known Gideon wasn’t awake. I could feel the black hole deep inside me, getting bigger with each moment he rested, but it would have been nice if I was wrong, you know?
“We’ll figure something out,” I rasped. “How’s Cade?”
“Getting better. Still sleeping a lot.”
I heard the guilt and squeezed her. “Don’t blame yourself. It was a good idea.”
“It didn’t work though, did it? If it had, if I’d just made him go outside and look up, Gideon might be okay. Instead, I was arrogant. I thought I was infallible.”
“No. You were inexperienced,” I chided. “Your powers are incredible, Marcella. Until it didn’t work, I wasn’t sure if there was anything you couldn’t do.” Just remembering the moon, that huge, heavy, ephemeral globe that had appeared in the middle of the bank’s atrium was enough to give me the shivers.
It had been so real. When it hadn’t worked, and Cade had passed out, I’d been beyond stunned.
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” she whispered, pressing her face into my arm, but I felt her tears.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered back, kissing the top of her head. I loved the scent of her, and combined with Gideon’s shirt, it was like smelling heaven.
“You’re hungry.” It was a statement.
“I can wait. Or… do we have any bags of blood left?”
“You know that doesn’t nourish you the same way. You can feed from me.”
“Without sex, it will hurt,” I argued.
“At the moment, that doesn’t exactly upset me, Raven.” Her words were a rasp that had me wincing. I knew how self-loathing worked. I’d been there, done that, and bought the fucking t-shirt. I hated that Marcella was experiencing it, but knew she wouldn’t forgive herself, wouldn’t let up, until Gideon was awake and back with us.
I rubbed my nose against her hair, letting her scent fill my senses once more. It soothed me, calmed me, and after what I’d done down in the basement, I needed that.
Torture wasn’t something any of us enjoyed doing, but they were torturing my brother by retaining secrets, so it was fair game, even if I felt the stain on my soul.
It helped that Marcella wasn’t squeaky clean either.
I knew there was a darkness inside her, a darkness that called to mine.
As I nuzzled down the side of her jaw, she arched her throat, giving me easy access to her carotid. I raked my teeth over her skin, enjoying her shudder, teasing her with the promise of more and loving her quiver of anticipation seconds before I struck.
Her moan was a combination of pleasure and pain. Arousal and torment. It was as exquisite as the taste of her, and I knew she was right. A single feeding from her nourished me more than ten bags of blood ever could.
As I swallowed her down, I felt the tissues in my body swell. It wasn’t like a hard-on, but a parched feeling. Like how a human’s mouth swelled when he finally drank water after a week without a drop.
My entire body craved her, and she didn’t demur. Letting me sup until I was sated.
When I released her, I heard her heartbeat, knew it was sluggish, but I also knew that would help her rest.
“Do you need blood?” I asked to be certain of her wellbeing.
“No.” She nuzzled against me once more. “Thank you, though.” Her yawn was more delicate and less stinky than Barclay’s when it gusted over my throat. Without another word, she closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her. I was surprised by how quickly she rested, but it spoke of her exhaustion.
Keiran? I called out the request, wondering how this new ability of ours worked. Was it dependent on Marcella being awake? Or was it dependent on Gideon’s completion of the brotherhood’s ring?
A groggy, What? sounded in my head, and pleasure surged inside me. This tool would be beyond useful out in the field.
Were you asleep?
It’s nearly six, Raven. Of course, I was asleep.
I almost smiled at his snark, but it died as I stated, Marcella blames herself.
I know. We’ve been trying to get her through it, but she won’t until Gideon wakes up.
His surety was an assurance in and of itself. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that Gideon would wake up, and it relieved me because I’d started to add the word if in my head.
Has anyone made the humans talk?
Marcella did after you slept. She got something from them, but it’s a dead end.
Wait, you let her down there? Then, I shook my head. There was no letting Marcella do jack. What was it? What did she find out? I asked in astonishment. How the hell had she done that when I’d tortured them in ways that made me shudder with repulsion.
An address.
Everything inside me jerked to attention. Their lair?
They’re humans. They don’t have lairs. They have homes, he corrected.
Stop being politically correct, I growled out. How long was I asleep?
Two days.
Enough time for you to explore the address. Did you find anything there?
No. But…
But what?
I think what Elizabeth said was only a half-truth. I’d need you to read her mind to figure out if that was the case. I feel like we were too swift to trust what she revealed to us.
What do you mean? I scowled. He’d been the one to walk through her dreams, after all.
She may be more skilled than I anticipated.
Skilled? She’s human, I retorted.
I know. But I think she may have manipulated us. He blew out a breath, and it was like a wind whistled between my ears. Unpleasant enough to cringe but not powerful enough to make me jerk in surprise. Anyway, whether she did or not is irrelevant at the moment. Their home… there was something about the place that reminded me of that factory in Tucson.
I thought back, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what he was talking about. We hadn’t spent much time in Tucson, and when we had, we’d had to break up a laundering racket that was tied to a meth lab.
You think they were cooking up Kronos there? That doesn’t fit with what Elizabeth said at all.
No. I know. Like I said, I don’t know if I trust her.
On a hunch?
I felt something nudge at my head, literally nudge it. It was so real that I thought Barclay was back, wiping his gross nose on my forehead or something, but it wasn’t him. It wasn’t Marcella either—she hadn’t moved a muscle.
/> It was an image, and I almost jumped off the bed as it bloomed to life in front of me.
Keiran’s ‘voice’ sounded ragged as he said, Can you see it?
How the fuck are you doing that? I demanded.
I’m not sure. I’m just willing you to see it and sent it over the same line we’re using now.
As fucked up as it may be, this was useful as hell.
I saw the three rooms the humans had been living in. One was made up of several beds squashed together, with two doors leading off of it. One, I assumed, to another bathroom, but Keir didn’t show me that, he just showed me where the other door led—to a space that housed a sofa, a large TV, and minute cooking facilities. When I said minute, I meant a dining table which had one of those grill ovens with the hobs on top, like for camping, and a toaster on it. There was a tray with stacked plates on it as well as mugs. I could only assume they used a bathroom to clean the dishes because I saw no sign of a sink.
Both areas were ratty but clean. Then, there was a room as large as both the bedroom and lounge combined. It was long, very long, and one end had a table that was stacked with books. The other? There were counters, stainless steel ones. But they were bare. There was also a sink, but if they used it for the dishes, why wouldn’t they have stacked the clean ones on its side?
The rest of the place was full. Why wouldn’t it be when a handful of people lived and hung out there? But that one space was empty. Like it had been cleared out.
The walls were white, unlike the shitty seventies’ wallpaper in the other rooms, and there was something about it that, as Keiran had stated, reminded me of the drug lab. Everywhere was easy to wipe down and maintain, plus there was some serious ventilation going down inside. Too much for the average kitchen that, I assumed, was what this room had once been. Maybe that and another bedroom.
I agree, I told him. It reminds me of that meth lab too.
