The Brimstone Betrayal

by Terence West

  Standing up, the swarm still buzzing and chewing my flesh, I smiled broadly at Lucas. “First mistake. And you only get one."

  His eyes widened.

  I charged. Before he could raise his hands in defense, I was on the Warlock. My momentum knocked us to the ground. Lucas tried to throw me free, but I pinned him down and bit into his throat. I felt two tiny muscles above my gums flex as I injected him with venom. Ripping my fangs free of his flesh, I bit again, and again until I had created a gaping wound.

  Contrary to what you may have seen in movies, a Vampire's bite doesn't usually leave two, small, perfect, puncture wounds. There is a time and a place for that mark, but most Vampires are much more savage when feeding.

  The Warlock moaned as my neurotoxin started to course through his body. His eyes fluttered and the swarm of bugs vanished. Wrapping my lips around the wound, I sucked hard drawing his blood into me. Pulling back for a moment, I stared at the crimson life running down his neck and the dark purple bruise I had created. A state of euphoria washed over my body as his blood worked into my system rejuvenating me. Diving forward, I dug into the wound again, deepening it with my fangs. His blood spurted into my mouth as I severed an artery. I felt a moan well up from me as his blood rolled down my throat. My hands moved passionately up his body and finally wrapped around his head. As I pulled again, I felt his skull crack.

  Stop, Rose!

  Forcefully pulling myself away at the sound, I fought the Demon inside me roaring for more. I wanted him. I wanted his life. My teeth gnashed and my lips curled ... I wanted to finish him.

  I stood up and stumbled back trying to wipe his still warm blood from my chin but only succeeded in smearing it. I could feel his gifted power skittering up my spine. I felt strong. I looked down at Lucas. His body was convulsing as he tried to fight my venom. Whatever control he had was gone now. The illusion around us melted away and revealed the room's true identity. Not as lavish, eccentric, or as warped as he had once led me to believe, it was simply an old, rundown warehouse. I could hear the thrum of machinery. Empty glass tubes, seemingly large enough to hold an adult, were stacked in the corners awaiting use. This place may appear run down, but my instincts told me otherwise.

  I didn't know what to do. I couldn't simply kill him. I was a Seeker after all. But I couldn't just leave him here, nor could I take him to one of the specially designed cells at Brimstone since I was on suspension. If, and when, he recovered, he would be pissed at me. He would be paralyzed for a while, though. At least I had that going for me.

  I stared down at my bare feet and frowned. Crouching down next to the warlock, I lifted his feet and started to untie his shoes. “You're not going anywhere for awhile, Lucas, so I'm going to borrow your shoes. Okay?"

  Lucas groaned in protest.

  Pulling the white sneakers free, I sat on the cold concrete floor and pulled my robe aside. The smell of ozone tickled my nose, but I didn't pay any attention to it—although I should have. As I laced them on my feet, I heard what sounded like a rolling thunderclap. Glancing at the warehouse's dirty windows I could see stars through them. Confused, I stood up in the shoes that were easily two sizes too large. Glancing straight up, I watched a heavy, black cloud roll along the roof toward us.

  "Crud,” I breathed.

  A lightning bolt arced down instantly from the cloud and struck me solidly in the chest. The bolt would have probably stopped my heart, if it were actually still beating. Instead, it knocked me hard into concrete. As my head snapped forward, it bounced off the floor, and splitting pain roared through my skull. Rolling onto my side, I watched another lightning bolt slowly descend from the mystical cloud and wrap around Lucas’ body like a hand. The bolt carefully lifted the injured Warlock and pulled him back into the cloud. Looking as if the cloud was rolling in reverse, it started to pull away. Within moments it, and Lucas, were gone.

  Sitting up, I felt a surge of pain in my chest where the bolt had hit me. Holding my arm across my chest, I stood up with a grunt. Peeking inside my robe, the smell of charred flesh smacked my nostrils. A black scorch mark spread out just above my cleavage. The burn was cracked open angrily, letting blood spill over my tank top and down my chest.

  By all rights, I should be dead. Something saved me. That was the only explanation that made any sense. Although my aching body and the pounding headache told a different story, I was lucky to still exist.

  I looked down at the white shoes on my feet. At least it didn't take those. I sighed. I was going to need them to walk home. Returning my attention to the warehouse, I knew I better get out of here before who or whatever took Lucas decided to come back for me. Holding my arm across the burn on my chest, I hobbled painfully toward the only door I could see.

  Chapter 18

  I wasn't entirely sure where I was. From ground level, I couldn't see anymore than the dilapidated warehouses surrounding me. The glow from the downtown casinos seemed to spread evenly over the city giving me no clue as to which direction I needed to go. The wound in my chest ached each time I took a step. I could feel the blood cooling and becoming crusty on my skin. Constantly brushing my hair away from the sticky smear on my face, I was sure I either looked like a battered woman, or a deranged killer. I was betting on the latter.

  This wasn't the first time I had drunkenly wandered down a darkened street with blood covering me, but each time I hoped it was the last. My mind swam with memories of a time when this was all I was. And how I hated myself for it. I was a killer. I was the wolf in sheep's clothing desperately wanting to be one of the flock while each night picking them off one by one. Even as the Warlock's blood swam in my veins rejuvenating me, keeping me alive, I hated myself.

  Stumbling off the street, I tried to brace my arm against the side of a nearby building but misjudged the distance and missed. Tumbling to the ground, I felt the edge of a broken bottle dig into my forearm. Snapping away from the sharpness, pain ripped through my chest again. Scooting myself up against the wall, I drew my legs tight to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I was a mess, and the sun would be up soon. I felt tears streak down my bloody cheeks. I knew what was troubling me so deeply, yet I refused to face it.

  This was the first time I tasted human blood in ten years. But that wasn't the burden weighing heavily on my soul, was it? It was more troubling that I enjoyed it.

  I knew this wasn't who I was anymore. I knew it in my soul. I had to do it. Lucas hadn't given me any choice. It was either him or me. He was going to kill me, I assured myself. It was self-defense. Letting my head fall back against the cold veneer of the wall, the familiar tingling sensation of fresh blood in my fingertips sickened me. The urge to retch gripped me, but my body wouldn't surrender any of the blood.

  The sound of breaking glass caught my attention and a familiar scent hit my nose. I was so engulfed in myself that I hadn't even heard the car pull up to the curb. Looking up, I saw a dark form standing before me. It reached its hand down to me and waited.

  How I wanted it to be Toby offering to scoop me up into his arms, but it wasn't.

  As I took the offered hand and slowly stood up, another bolt of pain ripped across my chest. Grunting and leaning over slightly, I looked into the shadow's face still hoping to see Toby's salt-and-pepper hair and big brown eyes. I was met with Maynard's visage instead.

  "Are you all right, Rose?” His voice sounded deeply concerned.

  I shook my head at Maynard's question, but knew I would live. “Where did you come from?"

  "That isn't important right now,” Maynard assured me. “I'm just happy to see you alive.” He paused. “Well, still existing anyway."

  As the Dendro Demon placed his hand tenderly on my shoulder I felt a slight prick. I shook it off thinking it was another piece of the glass I fell in. Starting me away from the building, I could see Maynard's car waiting just beyond the curb, its doors open and the headlights still on. “Come on, we've got to get you out of here. Sun will be up soon."

  In n
o condition to argue, I nodded.

  Maynard poured me gently into the passenger seat of his luxury sedan. As he shut the door, my fingers found their way down to the adjustment controls. I pushed the silver switch with my thumb and listened to the motors whine as the seat leaned back. Maynard slid into the driver's seat and closed his door with a satisfying thump. As he snapped on his seatbelt, he shifted the vehicle into gear and slowly accelerated. Pulling my robe tight, I closed my eyes.

  The ride was thankfully quiet. Maynard didn't use the radio, instead opting to leave his window slightly cracked to enjoy the sounds of the night. I listened to the rhythmic thump of the tires on the asphalt and found it somehow soothing. The soft rocking of his high-quality suspension seemed to diminish the blood euphoria in me. My body started to feel very, very relaxed.

  Opening my eyes, I watched the lights pass by the window. Somewhere we had merged onto the freeway and the lights of downtown Vegas seemed distant and unimportant. We were heading out of town and I just wanted to go home, even though I knew that was the last place I should be. If Lucas could take me right out of my bedroom, it wasn't safe anymore.

  It hit me. I turned to Maynard and grabbed his arm. “Toby?"

  "Christ, Rosy,” Maynard complained, breaking free of my grip. He took a breath, “Toby is fine. He alerted me when he found you weren't in your room. We've been searching all over Vegas for you."

  "That little devil,” I said quietly, allowing a major smile to grow on my face. The wolf was coming into my room to take advantage of me. I pulled my mind out of the gutter and back to the conversation. “How long were you looking?"

  Maynard sucked in an uneasy breath. Focusing his eyes on the road ahead, he seemed distant. He was avoiding the question.

  "Maynard,” I said persuasively, “how long have you been looking for me?"

  As the Dendro changed lanes and snapped off his turn signal, he slowly turned and looked at me. “Two days."

  I fell speechless. Certain I had said goodnight to Toby and gone to bed no more than an hour ago, I couldn't understand how I had lost two entire nights. I glanced down at the glowing green digital clock in Maynard's dashboard in hopes an answer would be found there. I finally looked back at Maynard. “That can't be right."

  "Listen, Rosy, why don't you put your head back and rest?” Maynard suggested. “We'll meet up with the others at my ranch and I'll explain everything."

  I didn't like being kept in the dark. Sliding back into my seat, I noticed the lights of Las Vegas were growing dimmer. We were heading way out of town. My brow furrowed. Rolling back over, I eyeballed Maynard. “You have a ranch?"

  Maynard laughed at the question. “Get some rest, Rose. I think you're going to need it."

  I nodded. I wasn't sure why, but I felt exhausted. Leaning my head back against the comfortable leather headrest, I fell quickly asleep.

  Chapter 19

  Lifting my head from the pillow, I became aware of a puddle of drool that had accumulated there. Wiping it away with more than a hint of embarrassment, I sat up in bed and looked around the room. I vaguely remembered Maynard carrying me in here and shutting the shades tightly. One of his guest rooms, I guessed. Tall green potted ferns sat in every corner. I wondered for a moment why a tree Demon would keep potted plants. Wasn't that akin to some form of slavery to their species, or perhaps kidnapping? Maybe he was holding these ferns against their will.

  Trying to shake the cobwebs from my mind, I let that train of thought depart the station without a second look.

  Once I managed to sit up, I pulled my legs up Indian style. As I arched my back and stretched, a slight tingle of pain skittered up my sternum. I looked down to inspect the wound, but realized I wasn't wearing the same clothes I had arrived in. Slightly amused, I gazed in awe at my new ensemble. A bulky pair of gray sweats wrapped around my legs while a simple white t-shirt covered my chest. Someone had cleaned me up and changed my clothes sometime while I slept. I must've really been out of it. I glanced quickly into the shirt collar to see that my black tank top was gone. Whoever had done this had got a quick peek, too. I nervously pulled the waistband of the sweats out and found, to my relief, my black panties were where they should be. At least they had kept some of my dignity intact.

  I pulled the t-shirt up and noticed the wound had nearly healed. Only a dark bruise and a slight red crease wiggling up toward my collarbone remained. Almost all of the scorch marks, and the cuts on my arm from the glass were gone as well. Which made me wonder how long had I been sleeping.

  With another tentative stretch, I turned and slid off the edge of the bed into the thick carpeting. As I stood, a wave of dizziness washed down from my skull. Teetering, I braced my hand against the wall and closed my eyes. I waited for the feeling to pass. Licking my lips, I pressed my hand to my forehead. Usually after feeding, I felt ready to take on the entire world. This time, however, I felt like everyone in the world had taken turns kicking the crap out of me.

  "Must've been something I ate,” I moaned, thinking of Lucas.

  I had never fed from a Warlock before—or anyone magical for that matter. Perhaps there was something about them that gave Vampires a sour stomach. Maybe it was the blending of human and Inhuman physiology that created them. Unlike Witches, Warlocks weren't exactly human anymore. Or perhaps it was merely the power that coursed through his body. By ingesting his blood, I had taken some of that into me. Magic users had to train for years to make their bodies capable of channeling massive amounts of power. Maybe I simply couldn't handle it. That seemed like the most obvious answer.

  Once I opened my eyes, I stumbled toward the door unevenly. With each step I took, I started to feel a bit more like myself. Placing my hands on the door to steady myself, I heard voices on the other side. I pressed my ear gently to the door and listened. Clearly making out Maynard and Toby among them, they seemed to be in a very serious discussion. I felt myself smile at the sound of my partner's voice. My frown quickly faded as I heard Karl's helium inflated intonation, and then Elena's.

  What is she doing here?

  Twisting the knob, I slowly pulled the door open. The bedroom opened into the massive living room dominated by dark wood, brick, and glass. The far wall was constructed completely of glass and stretched up to the top of the room's cathedral ceiling. Beyond the glass barrier was a lush, green garden that didn't seem to belong at all in this harsh, desert climate. An atrium filled with numerous quaky trees and flowers was on the far side masking a mostly open staircase. Four large black couches were arranged in a square in the center of the room with an equally impressive stone coffee table between them.

  Toby propped his elbow on the arm of the couch and smiled softly. “Morning, Rose."

  I nodded to my partner with a smile as I walked into the living room. Toby, Maynard, and Elena each sat on their own couch, while Karl paced eagerly around a jar containing the captured Sprite on the coffee table. I gravitated toward the side of the room that contained Maynard and Toby. Elena sat motionlessly staring at me. She had been ever since I emerged from the bedroom. A dark bruise still clung to her throat where I had choked her a few days before. Realizing I was staring at it, she buttoned up the collar of her blouse and lowered her gaze.

  Maynard stood and placed his hand on my shoulder. I remembered the slight sting I had felt the last time he did that, but didn't feel anything this time. He guided me toward the couches. “How are you feeling?"

  "A little off,” I admitted. “I don't feel exactly like myself."

  "Yeah,” Maynard said with hesitation, “sorry I had to tranq you."

  "You tranquilized me?” I asked in disbelief.

  "When I found you,” Maynard glanced warily to Toby and then back to me, “you were hurt and had just fed. I just wanted to make sure both of us made it back here safe.” He paused. “You're a Seeker, Rosy. You would have done the same thing."

  I considered his logic for a moment and finally agreed. An injured Vampire is dangerous. We have
a tendency to lash out at whoever's near, no matter if they're friend or foe. Add that to the blood euphoria I was feeling and Maynard was completely justified in tranquilizing me. He was right about another thing. If the situation were reversed, I would have done the same.

  "How long do the affects of this stuff last?” I asked, running my fingers through my messy hair.

  "Should be wearing off anytime now,” Maynard answered. He slid down into his couch and crossed his legs.

  Toby placed his hand gently on the small of my back as I walked past. It felt comfortable, yet somehow inappropriate in this setting. Sliding between the couch and coffee table, I perched on an armrest anxious to know what had transpired during my apparent abduction.

  Apparently they were just as curious about me.

  "What happened to you, Rose?” Toby leaned his elbows on his knees.

  "Lucas Nash,” I answered.

  Elena sat forward quietly studying me, her curiosity piqued.

  "He wanted to know what Chithula told me,” I explained. “When I wouldn't tell him, Lucas tried to kill me."

  "Bullshit,” Elena spat.

  I looked up at the Witch with eyes wide. “Excuse me?"

  "That's total bullshit,” Elena repeated, her words dripping with venom. “Lucas Nash, despite his questionable Warlock heritage, has always used his power justly. He has even consulted with the Syndicate on several occasions with exceptional results."

  Maynard sat back in his couch eyeing us warily. He wasn't going to intervene. Yet.

  "It was Lucas,” I assured. “He took me right out of my bedroom."

  Elena cocked an eyebrow. “Where's the proof?"

  She was right. I didn't have any. It was simply a matter of my word.

  "I think you're lying,” Elena accused angrily.

  I shot up from my seat. “What?"

  "You heard me. I think you had some sort of vampy craving and wandered off in the middle of the night,” Elena theorized. “But you bit off more than you could chew and got your ass kicked. And now you're trying to blame it on Lucas."