by HP Mallory
Filled with the magic of Dulcie’s fae blood, my former strength was not only intact again, but even more pronounced. I easily materialized from the far side of the room to the entrance in a matter of seconds. When I landed, reappearing instantly in front of Jax, he simply lifted what I recognized as a pistol. Apparently, I failed to notice it when he entered the room. He fired a shot and the bullet hit me in my shoulder, throwing me off balance for an instant. Of course, the bullet Jax used was not meant for an ordinary human—and from the instant sensation of burning that I felt, I knew for a fact that this one had to be composed of pure silver. While it could not kill me, it would and did slow me down. In a flash, Jax’s two minions pounced on me.
Immediately, my arms were restrained behind me, and the Netherworldly iron cuffs were snapped around my wrists before I could react or object. Taking a step forward and maximizing the strength inherent to his Loki ancestry, Jax shoved me hard in my chest. I was immediately propelled backwards through the air until my back ungraciously smashed against the wall and I fell straight down. I found it rather difficult to right myself without the use of my arms and hands, not to mention the silver bullet lodged inside me, which was performing quite well in its purpose of weakening me.
Jax’s two thugs overcame me before I could move or stop them. Binding my legs with Netherworldly iron chains, they wrapped me up so securely, I was no more threatening to them than a newborn kitten. Jax said nothing more to me, but I watched him nod at one of his henchmen before he obediently approached Dulcie. Jax just strolled into the room and observed everyone leisurely, as if he did not have another concern and all the time in the world.
“The way you abused Dulcie is nothing less than disgraceful,” I spat out, motioning to Dulcie by cocking my head in her direction. “It is only a matter of time, Loki, but I will have your head.”
Jax responded to my threat by laughing raucously. When his cruel attempt at humor was over, he faced me with narrowed, slitty eyes. His former glee and good cheer were no longer present. “How, pray tell, do you plan to free yourself, vampire?” he asked as he shook his head. “You just don’t get it, do you? There is no freeing yourself anymore. This is your last stop. You’re on the road to nowhere, and you’ve just arrived.”
I watched one of his men pick Dulcie up and carry her toward the door. When I noticed the way her head rolled back, I could only assume she must have lost consciousness again.
“She is not fully healed!” I exclaimed angrily. My expression should have conveyed to Jax that I was not in the mood for any more arguments. “And she has not received enough of my blood. If you move her now, you will only kill her.”
“She’s got plenty of blood,” Jax retorted as he faced his man again. “Load the little upstart into the car.”
“Where are you taking her?” I demanded.
“Far and away,” Jax answered as his sadistic gaze fell on me again. “I’ve got strict orders to remove her from this house and deliver her forthwith to my boss.” He whistled to his other brute who immediately approached me. “As for you, you’re about to undergo round two,” Jax added before the repulsive creature gripped me by my shoulder and dragged me toward the infernal machine.
“You bloody …” I started to curse.
“I’m pretty sure fae and master vampire blood will provide the users with a trip to new, soaring heights, like they could never experience before,” Jax interrupted with a sardonic chuckle.
“All four tubes, boss, or just these two?” his servant asked.
“Just the two,” Jax answered, with his wretched gaze still riveted on me. “No reason to rush this time. I’m sure our fanged friend would prefer that the precious few hours he has left on this earth will last as long as is physically possible.”
The grunt simply nodded before turning back to face me. Then he picked up the empty tubes that were lying on the floor and shoved each one into the veins of my arms. I tried to ignore the stinging pain of the dull needle as it entered me.
“You will remain here. I want you to stay with the vampire until he’s drained … completely,” Jax instructed his goon. “Then, you are to report back to me, confirming that he no longer exists and will not be any further obstacle in our plans. At which time I’ll tell you where to meet us.”
“This is not the end, Rochefort!” I screamed at Jax’s exiting back. “I will come for you, and I will find you no matter where you try to hide your miserable carcass! And, when I do, you will rue the day you chose to lay your wretched hands on her!”
The only response I received was the echo of Jax’s deep, hearty laugh. Then the door closed behind him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Bram
“Whatever Jax is currently paying you for your services, I will triple it,” I offered the brute who was tasked to vampsit me. He would only stay until the grey box drained me of all my vitality and I was no more hazardous than an empty vessel. He appeared quite comfortable, sitting in a fold-up chair just beside the door with one leg crossed over his knee, thumbing through the pages of a tired Penthouse magazine with vigor. I wondered where he discovered the offensive rag, since I had not purchased or provided such depravity inside the walls of my chateau.
“I ain’t interested,” the simpleton replied without bothering to spare me a glance.
“You drive a hard bargain,” I continued. I was lying prostrate on the hard floor with both of my arms extended from my body, and tubes trailing from the insides of my arms into the machine behind me. Having been connected to the machine for perhaps twenty minutes by this time, I again endeavored to charm my captor. “I shall offer you the sum of eight times your current salary, but that is as much as I shall offer.”
The goon finally tore his eyes away from the filthy periodical that was doing a superior job of capturing his attention. He smiled at me, revealing a mouthful of decaying, yellow teeth. “Get this straight: there ain’t no amount of money that could persuade me to let you go.”
“I beg to differ. I believe you are simply intending to appear obstinate and unreasonable, not to mention very rude,” I responded. Surprisingly, I was still quite strong even though my clarity in thinking and my superhuman strength were fast evaporating with every passing minute that I remained attached to the machine. “Surely, you are aware that every man has his price.”
“Not this man,” the buffoon answered before returning his undivided attention to the smut. I could not resist my repulsion when I noticed the large perspiration stains beneath his armpits. The belly he carried protruded so far that it seemed to be cradled by his raised leg. To say he was quite an inelegant specimen was a vast understatement.
“May I ask, what is your name?” I persisted. I dared to hope that the two of us could cultivate some type of personal connection. Perhaps then I could penetrate his sense of resistance and allow him to warm up to me. If I could nurture his ego adequately enough, my hope was that I could also manipulate him into freeing me.
“Drajow,” he answered absentmindedly, although his attention was clearly still fastened on the images in the magazine. My worst scenario at that moment was that he would become so stimulated by the subject matter he was perusing, he would resort to fondling himself in my presence. I could not imagine a more undignified preamble to my death.
“Drajow,” I repeated, trying to determine how much time had passed since I started our conversation. I estimated the wretched machine would require perhaps two hours to drain me completely of blood, and therefore, time was a supreme priority. “Perhaps you could name your price then.”
The filthy creature glanced over at me, his bushy eyebrows conspiring in the center of his forehead until they appeared more like two black caterpillars that were mating upon his brow. “You ain’t hearin’ me,” he said flatly. “There ain’t no amount o’ money that’d make me disobey the boss’s orders.”
Sighing inwardly, I could only bemoan my bad fortune. Time was passing just as quickly as the blood was draining from my
body. I had to win this oaf over sooner rather than later. “Are you are so afraid of Jax that you cannot accept a scintillating offer when it is being presented right before your nose?” Then it occurred to me that the money was not enough. “I would also ensure that your protection and safety were secured, my good fellow. You could retire from this barbaric lifestyle and spend the remainder of your days in a haven of luxury,” I continued. “You could enjoy the wealthy man’s version of the witness relocation program.”
Drajow laughed at me as he shook his head. “That all sounds fine an’ good, but it ain’t Jax I’m afraid of.”
“Whom could it be then?”
“The Darkness,” he replied before taking a deep breath. Then he crossed himself, as if he were superstitious and the very words possessed the power to bring misfortune down upon him.
“The Darkness?” I repeated as I shook my head, clearly at a loss. “What is the Darkness?”
“It ain’t a what, it’s a who.”
“Very well, then,” I corrected myself. I was growing increasingly impatient, and I did not have the luxury of time for such trivial conversations. I needed to understand exactly what I was up against in order to finagle my way out of my current debacle. I was also beginning to feel more than convinced that this half-wit, Drajow, could be very easily manipulated. I just had to devise the best way in which to influence him—a process which was, unfortunately, somewhat timely. “Who is the Darkness?”
Drajow shrugged. “Ain’t got a clue,” he answered. “No one does.”
“How is it possible to be afraid of someone whose identity is unknown to you?”
“Them be the scariest kinds o’ sons o’ bitches,” Drajow answered. I did not fail to notice his cross expression, as if he were growing irritated that I distracted his attention away from his … reading material. “The Darkness ain’t got any faces or names, but they call the shots around here all the same. You never know where they’re lurkin’ or what they’re hearin’, ya know what I’m sayin’?”
“I see, so this Darkness person is the one in charge, and the only person who calls the shots, as you say?” I asked, but a fog of confusion began to settle inside my head. I glanced at the tubes that ran from my arms as I tried to ignore the obfuscation, but I knew it was a losing proposition. Clearly, I was living on borrowed time.
“Yep,” Drajow answered. “The Darkness is like the mastermind o’ this whole rebellion—like that dude behind the curtain in the Oz movie.”
“And does Jax also obey the orders given by the Darkness?” I inquired, struggling to maintain my frail grip on my sanity. I was at the doorstep of delirium; I could feel it creeping in. But I hoped to fend off the inevitable for another few seconds—just long enough to learn the secret that would unlock this fool’s loyalty …
“Yep, the Darkness gives Jax his orders, along with everyone else,” he replied with a brief nod.
“Does Jax know the identity of the Darkness?”
“No,” Drajow repeated as he shook his head emphatically. His caterpillar eyebrows furrowed in the center of his forehead again. “You ain’t listenin’! I already told you that.”
“Well, forgive me for repeating myself,” I muttered. My eyes fell onto the tubes inserted in my arms, and I nodded my head in that direction. “But I am currently losing vast amounts of blood at a disconcerting rate, and I am afraid it is beginning to affect my ability to converse intelligently.” I paused for a few seconds before smiling with a wide grin. My only hope now was that my sense of timing would not be premature. “Perhaps you could delay the machine somehow?”
“Nope,” Drajow answered immediately, his attention fully devoted to his magazine again. “I don’t wanna hang around here any longer than I gotta.”
I refused to allow myself to accept such disappointment. Instead, I resumed my line of questioning while hoping that I might discover the chink in his armor. “I see, and has this Darkness been giving Jax his orders all along?”
“Stop yer questions,” Drajow answered as he shook his head and appeared more than just perturbed. “There ain’t never been any reward for a thug who talked too much.”
I assumed he was afraid he would get into serious trouble if he continued to answer my questions. “That is a reasonable point, certainly,” I remarked with an awkward shrug, despite my ungraceful position on the floor. “But it does not apply to your situation. My life will end in … what? Perhaps another hour or so?”
“Yeah, prolly,” Drajow answered with a swift glance at his wristwatch. Then he gave me a short nod. “I’d say you got maybe another hour an’ thirty, prolly.”
My lifetime, which spanned several centuries, was suddenly limited to just an hour and thirty minutes. I could not dwell on that, however. “Yes, so can you tell me what harm there could possibly be in answering my questions if your answers will also die with me?” I inquired. “Otherwise, I fear the silence in this room will hasten my undoing.” I continued with a dramatic sigh. “Drajow, you strike me as a person with a generous soul deep down inside you,” I persisted. I hoped the big lout possessed some kind of moral compass or conscience. “Would you so cruelly dash a doomed man’s last hours by relegating him to the angst and anxiety of quiet solitude?”
Drajow took a deep breath and exhaled a long sigh. “I guess you got a valid point.” Then he looked over at me and shrugged, saying, “So what else you wanna know before ya croak?”
I breathed an inward sigh of relief, although it was quite brief. “Well, you have not yet answered my question. The one I asked as to whether Jax was also following the orders from the Darkness all along?”
“Yeah, he was. I mean, at least as far as I know.”
“And do the other potions dealers know of the Darkness?”
“Now they do, but they didn’t before,” Drajow answered. Pulling a pack of bubble gum from his back pocket, he took out a piece and popped it into his mouth. He began chomping on it loudly, resembling a cow chewing its cud. “You wanna piece o’ gum?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Vampires and gum do not agree,” I explained. “Our fangs preclude us from enjoying it, since they seem to invariably get in the way.”
“Yeah? I guess that makes sense,” he answered with a slight laugh. “Where was I?” he asked after I faced him expectantly. “Oh, yeah, the Darkness used to operate on the down-low, but that was just until he decided it was a good time to make hisself known.”
“So, is the Darkness the responsible party for uniting all the gangs?” I repeated. In my mind, I was desperately trying to recognize who this person could possibly be. I racked my clouded mind, but I could not think of a single soul who could embody such a reputation. Eventually, I had to arrive at the conclusion that the Darkness was not someone I had ever encountered before. He could only be someone who managed to climb up the ranks while remaining concealed, in the background, under cover. The Darkness must have been prepared to wait as long as it took until a keen opportunity arose to make his existence known.
“Yeah, that’s about what happened.”
“So if no one has ever seen this person, why are you so afraid of him?” I asked. My sole purpose in this endeavor was to offer Drajow a reward so wonderful, he could not refuse it. If I could just turn his loyalty, I could save myself.
“I heard stories,” he answered.
“What type of stories?”
“Stories about how vicious the Darkness has been in the past. Stories that sound so bad, you would never consider crossin’ ’em, not if ya value yer life.”
Perhaps this would prove more difficult than I estimated. “You are aware …” I began. I closed my eyes against the impending sense of light-headedness that suddenly overcame me. “… that I still retain quite a bit of power,” I said. I opened my eyes and focused my attention on him, fearing he might deduce that I was very close to losing control of my thoughts and body. “Even though it would seem I am out of options at this point, I must assure you, I am not. I have a loy
al following, and I could liberate you permanently from your obligation and duties to both Jax and the Darkness.”
Drajow immediately shook his head. “Ya seem nice enough,” he started as he sighed, “but I ain’t got no death wish.” His stomach unexpectedly started to growl, and his leg dropped from being crossed over his knee as he stood up. “I gotta go git mahself somethin’ ta grub on now,” he said as he faced me. Then he glanced down at the magazine which he promptly folded and shoved beneath his arm. “An’ I gotta go take care o’ some other stuff,” he finished with a wink that suddenly made me feel ill.
“Wait!” I started when he approached the door. I was growing very uneasy at the prospect that I was about to lose valuable time, time that I could ill afford to squander. “Could you just stay a little longer? You see, I would like to enjoy the company of another person until I am no longer here, on this earth.”
“No can do,” he answered tersely as he turned around and started for the door again. He unlocked it, but upon opening it, he glanced back and smiled at me. “I’ll tell ya what, I’ll just step out for a few seconds, an’ be back in a bit.” Then he closed the door behind him, and the sound of the lock reverberated through my head like a cannon firing.
###
I was swimming again through a familiar sea, cresting the restless waves that crashed this way and that, pulling me under and spitting me out again. The temperature of the sea was not cold, as I expected, but rather tepid and quite pleasant. Were it not for the incessant waves that pummeled me, tossing me carelessly to and fro, I might actually have enjoyed my immersion in the water.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”
I heard the deep voice, but I could see no one. It seemed almost as if the water, itself, were addressing me.
