A Wicked Night

by Kiersten Fay

  Down in that cave, Bray had seen her at her worst, her absolute weakest. He’d bared witness to her suffering—a stint of torture that shamed all others—and had lived it with her. Shared her pain. And in the thick of it, had somehow managed to keep her sane. That wasn’t something she could easily dismiss.

  Mace had only seen her at her best. Glitz and glamour and pristine. A coarse stone polished to a glossy sheen. What would he say if she scrubbed away the pretty surface and revealed all the rough edges hidden beneath? What would he see then? A woman mangled and broken? Held together by fraying threads, unable to love him the way he desired? The way he deserved?

  Would he find her lacking? Turn away from her?

  Would it break her if he did?

  And what if he didn’t…?

  If he insisted on offering his love unblemished, untainted, could she accept it and do the same?

  But then what of Bray?

  She’d noticed that through the bond, he was more open to her than both Mace and Knox combined. Without a hint of uncertainty, he showed his trust and, dare she say, love by leaving himself exposed. His every emotion was hers to examine, to play off of, to respond to. Maybe he didn’t know how to block it, but she got the impression he wouldn’t even if he did.

  Moreover, he seemed grateful for their connection. His satisfaction was evident in every touch, every stolen glance. Some part of her, a part she wasn’t fully ready to accept, understood he’d give all of himself to her and more if she would but ask.

  However, that wasn’t something she could do. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

  And yet, grudgingly, she had to admit her feelings for Bray were every bit as strong as they were for Mace. Hurting either of them would kill her.

  “Haven’t you tried to call Knox?” Cora asked of Trent, more for an escape from her nagging thoughts than a desire for information.

  “Knox rarely keeps a phone on him,” Trent replied, not bothering to glance back. “Even if he did, I wouldn’t know the number.”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s really none of your business.”

  “It is when he’s keeping Mace captive.”

  Trent’s tone remained neutral, but just barely. “You’re making blind accusations. We don’t know—”

  Cora scoffed. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Of course that’s what’s going on. Knox has done it before—”

  “I don’t jump to conclusions where either Knox or Mace is concerned.”

  “And I suppose you’ll defend Knox when we discover what he’s done with Mace,” she snapped.

  Trent bristled. “I’ll defend whoever damn well needs it. And before you go any further, a warning: check the attitude or I’ll toss you out of this fucking chopper and be done with you.”

  She gulped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  He turned to her then with a questionable gaze. “You’ve certainly changed a great deal since we last met. What happened to the meek little human?”

  Cora shrugged. She was rather marveled herself that she was verbally challenging a vampire, looking him straight in the eye, without showing a hint of trepidation…and she wasn’t backing down. And not just any vampire—their freaking leader!

  Though to Cora it felt like years, it wasn’t too long ago that she would have cowered in this situation. “Maybe I’ve seen what true evil looks like, and you’re not so scary in comparison.”

  The smile he gave her was menacing enough. “Then you don’t know me very well.”

  “Indeed,” she replied.

  Bray appeared to be observing as if from a distance, like he needed time to adjust to a dynamic he wasn’t used to. For the first time, he seemed unsure of what to do or say.

  At Trent’s threat, Cora had gleaned a spike of irritation from Bray, but nothing more. Did that mean he thought it was more of an idle threat? Or was Bray reverting to a previously conditioned sire/subordinate role, submitting to his maker’s authority? Would he move to stop Trent if he tried anything?

  Rather than find out, Cora sat back and locked her eyes on the clear sky that was deceptively dark against the protective UV-blocking tint that delivered Bray from the harsh sun, which was now completely uninhibited by cloud cover. They’d long since passed the snowy hilltops and flurries and were probably well within the naturally warmer climate of Utah or Nevada.

  After time, Trent began interrogating Bray about his captors, the time he spent in the dungeon, and anything else that might help “bring these bastards down.” He was intrigued by the doctor and his studies, and was curious as to why, after Cora’s arrival, they decided to force a bond between the two of them.

  Cora zoned out, not wanting to relive the ordeal so soon. She spoke when asked a question, mostly to corroborate Bray’s account, but other than that, she kept out of the conversation.

  Until she realized Bray had yet to mention Nikolai.

  “What about the vampire?” she asked him when he’d finished his story.

  He canted his head at her. “Do you mean the other captives? I never saw them. They were kept in separate cells.”

  “No. I mean the vampire in charge. The one they called master.”

  Aside from the copter’s thwumping, everything went silent.

  Trent turned to study her. “You think a vampire is behind all this?”

  There was danger in the question. She realized she’d have to tread carefully if she were to charge one of their own with kidnapping and the torture of other vampires for horrendous purposes.

  To Bray, she asked, “You saw him, didn’t you?”

  He responded with a bewildered look.

  “Black hair. Dark eyes…” She had been pretty drugged up, but there was no doubt in her mind. “He came to check on me before...”—she gestured between her and Bray—“after the doctor’s extensive testing. He spoke to the doctor about my progress, then commanded I be taken to number seven. That’s what they called you.” She looked up at Bray. “You must have seen him at some point.”

  “I’m sorry, angel.” He shook his head.

  Cora turned almost desperate. “I know I saw him. They called him Nikolai. He said I was special, like he had a plan for me. Then the doctor brought me to you and forced us to bond.”

  Trent was giving her an incredulous arched brow as though he thought she was making all this up. At this very moment he could be speculating that she was behind it all so that she could bond other vampires.

  She needed them to believe her.

  “They made us…made me drink so much…over and over. I don’t remember how many times. If I’d have had a choice, I…I didn’t want to…I couldn’t stop them. I never wanted any of this…” Her voice began to quiver as the scarring memories surfaced.

  A bout of despondency slammed down her spine—it came from Bray.

  She turned, realizing he might take her words as a rejection. “I mean I didn’t want the bond then…but now...?” But now what?

  She didn’t know how to continue.

  He frowned, replying almost robotically, “I understand. Neither of us had the opportunity to opt out.”

  Even at a time like this, he still didn’t close himself off, letting her feel the full force of his dejection, and yet, at the same time, his genuine understanding. She was grateful for that at least. Even if she wasn’t sure how she felt about everything else.

  This time it was she who reached out to grip his hand, but what she wanted to convey, she wasn’t sure.

  He gave her a frail smile and then shifted his attention toward the landscape, avoiding further eye contact.

  The rest of the flight was traveled in silence. After a while, the children succumbed to boredom, claiming Cora and Bray’s laps as headrests.

  When the helicopter finally began to descend, Cora was slumped, half asleep in her chair. She jerked upright. They were here! Her eagerness to find Mace was rekindled.

  She scanned their surroundings, but all she could see through the window was the vast fore
st and hilltops. The tall trees with their changing autumn leaves camouflaged anything that resided underneath.

  “This is the closest open area where I can land,” Osborne announced, setting the craft down in a small field. “The cottage should be about a half-mile north.”

  “We’ll have to walk from here,” Trent added, eyeing the children as though contemplating their burden.

  Cora grabbed Preston’s hand, visually expression she would not leave them behind.

  A brief gamut of irritation fluttered over Trent’s face before his expression returned to its customary stern state.

  Outside, the group trudged into the forest. Within the first few yards, Preston demanded Bray carry him over the uneven terrain.

  Without hesitation, Bray scooped him up and seated him over his shoulders, allowing his little legs to dangle on either side of his thick neck. The boy squealed with glee at being so high up and then glanced down at his sister to gloat.

  “Oh, pick me up too,” she wined, jealous.

  “We’ll switch on the way back,” Bray said with a wink, only slightly appeasing her. She crossed her arms and began a silent pout.

  Cora offered her hand. “Walk with me, sweets.”

  Phoebe accepted, her bottom lip still prominent.

  As they pounded out a path, Bray bounced Preston and made a game of ducking under low branches just enough so that he could still reach and pluck some of the leaves with his stubby fingers.

  That didn’t help Phoebe’s mood, but puffs of warm affection collided in Cora’s heart.

  With a glance, Bray sent her a wide sexy grin as though he were actually enjoying himself. She was helpless not to return it.

  When they reached the familiar boundary line that surrounded the cottage, Cora actually felt the demarcation before she saw it. There was a fuzziness that tickled her nose and pressed against her chest, warding her away. It was a wonder she hadn’t perceived it before. But even if the mystical presence wasn’t tingling her flesh, the perfect circle of stunted growth that spanned the other side was a clear indicator. The backside of the cottage could be seen in the distance.

  She paused. “I can’t go any further. And neither should they.” She gestured to the children. “Sadira’s spirit could inhabit any one of us.” According to Saraphine, as vampires, Bray, Trent, and Osborne were safe.

  Ignoring Preston’s objections, Bray lifted him from his shoulders and set him on the ground next to Cora. To Osborne, he said, “Stay with them. Trent and I will head inside.”

  “Uh…” Trent peered between Bray and Osborne uneasily. Then his gaze landed on Cora before returning to Bray. She managed to read his biased imputation.

  “Oz should come with me,” he said. “You should stay with Cora.”

  “Oh for the love off…” She crossed her arms and shifted her weight. “I highly doubt in the five minutes it takes you to find Mace I will somehow manage to blood bond with your pilot.”

  “Your track record speaks very highly,” Trent shot back sarcastically.

  She balked. “Whatever my track record says, it should be that I never intended any of this to happen. I didn’t ask to bond Mace. I didn’t trick Knox. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have endured weeks of endless torture just to tie yet another random vampire to me!”

  She realized too late whom her words might sting.

  “Am I just a random vampire?” Bray asked. He kept his expression blank, but his emotions churned.

  She faced him, repentant. “I didn’t mean it like it sounded.”

  “How did you mean it?”

  “I meant…I don’t know…that none of this was my choice. It just happened to me.”

  “And you’re saying you wouldn’t have chosen me,” he added solemnly. “Even now?”

  Again she was very close to hurting him more than she could bear, but she couldn’t lie to him. “Can we talk about this later?”

  From the corner of her eye, she registered Trent studying them far too closely. What was he searching for? She tried not to focus on how her interaction with Bray might be interpreted.

  As if shrugging off the subject, Bray squared his shoulders and faced Trent. “Oz will be fine with Cora. Let’s go.”

  Reluctant but relenting, Trent gave Oz a harsh warning. “Keep your hemoglobin to yourself.” He sent Cora a chilly look. “No matter what may transpire.”

  Translation: If the Grim Reaper comes for Cora and your blood is the only thing that might save her, hand her over and call it a day.

  Cora lifted her chin.

  Bray pursed his lips at Trent, then said to Cora, “I won’t be long.”

  She nodded and took charge of the children so their natural curiosity wouldn’t guide them too close to the boundary line.

  With Bray gone, anxiety made a powerful reappearance. Avoiding Osborne’s curious stares and his stiff sentinel stance that resembled a warden rather than a bodyguard, Cora tasked the children with searching a small clover patch for one with four leaves. “If you find one, you can make a wish.”

  That was enough to have them squatting with enthusiasm and bickering about who would find one first.

  Then Cora began to pace. Had Bray and Trent entered the cottage yet? What would they find? Visions of Mace crippled and in pain tormented her. She brought her hand up and began biting her fingernails.

  Still Osborne stared.

  “Something on your mind, big fella?” she said.

  “Just putting a face to your file.”

  She froze midstep. “I have a file?”

  Like the one in the doctor’s hellacious lab?

  Osborne held his unwavering gaze, carefully reading her reaction. Could he tell her veins had gone ice-cap cold?

  Chapter 35

  Cora took a step back from Osborne, readying for what? She didn’t know. Run? Fight? Scream for Bray?

  Oz made no move to advance.

  His hands were firmly in his pockets. But that mattered not. If he wanted, he could be upon her before she managed so much as to blink. Like every human who found themselves alone with a vampire, her fate was his to decide. If something nefarious was about to befall her, there would be little she could do about it. Not unless she could call on her magic, which was iffy at best.

  In any case, she decided to stand her ground. “What do you mean I have a file?”

  His features nearly contorted into a smile, his expression surprisingly warm. “No need to feel so special. We keep files on all our suspects, persons of interest, hell, even I have a file. Trent keeps tabs on everyone. It’s almost an obsession of his.”

  That didn’t exactly give way to relief. “And what’s in my file?”

  “Not much. Mostly just what little information Mace was able to scrounge up on you.”

  Cora stifled an indignant gasp. She shouldn’t be so taken aback. She knew Mace had been assigned to follow both her and Winston. Obviously he would have relayed his findings to Trent. “And what information might that be?”

  He shrugged. “You lived on the streets most your life till Winston Gordon took you for a wife. Wife number six, did you know? All but you went missing or died mysteriously.”

  Her throat squeezed. She knew Winston had been married before, but she hadn’t realized she’d been number seven, or what had happened to the previous Misses Gordons. She always figured Winston had divorced them. If he hadn’t been assassinated would she have met with the same misfortune as the ones who came before?

  She shook the thought away and asked, “What else?”

  “You’re a Conwell witch. Perhaps one of the last.”

  She knew absolute squat about her lineage, but this vampire actually looked impressed by that. Bray had been shocked to learn her birth name. Even Knox had strong feelings about it.

  What was so unique about the Conwells?

  Oz frowned, continuing. “You had Brayden’s blood in your system long before the death of your husband.”

  “That was Winston’s doing,” she
defended. “I had no knowledge of it.”

  He responded with a nonchalant shrug. “So you say.”

  Her word held little weight with this bunch, that was clear. Trent’s entire clan could very well see her as their enemy. As much as that irked, there seemed nothing to be done about it. Mace believed her, and that was enough. Well, almost. She worried Trent was sowing discord in Bray’s mind this very moment.

  “And you managed to secure your safety by bonding both Mace and Knox. A feat that almost seemed impossible, or at least, very unlikely. But then, they always did have the same taste in women.”

  She focused on the first part of his statement. “In what way does that secure my safety?”

  He looked at her as though she were half-daft. “It’s a crime to harm a bond mate.”

  She stilled, filing away that information. “And you want to harm me?”

  “Not I, but some. There are those who believe there could’ve been no way for a wife not know of the husband’s dealings.”

  She signed. “It’s easy to be blinded when you don’t really want to see.”

  He appeared to evaluate that, but made no comment.

  Just then, Phoebe squeaked out, “Kitty!”

  Cora spun around. “What did you say?” She followed the child’s gaze into the thick brush a few yards away. “You saw a kitty?”

  Her heart leapt at an answering meow.

  “Meeka?” she called.

  Soft gray ears emerged from behind a bundle of leaves, followed by a pair of wide green eyes.

  “Goddess of light and dark, you’re okay!” She stretched out her hands.

  Meeka bound forward to be scooped up in her arms. Purring, the feline snuggled against Cora’s chin with the top of her soft head.

  Cora hugged Meeka to her chest, then examined her thoroughly for any traces of harm. Meeka appeared well. Whole. And apparently ready for play time. She swatted at a lock of Cora’s hair before scrambling from her hold to dart after a leaf that floated by, pouncing on it just as it found the earth.

  The children laughed uproariously and then proceeded to chase Meeka around for a chance to pet her silky fur.

  “Cute cat,” said Oz, sounding rather uninterested.