by Aliya DalRae
This was not the Nox who brought me Perky’s Pizza and submarine sandwiches. Not even close. This was the Nox in my visions, the Nox who had ripped my friends to pieces without a second thought. His eyes sparked, filling the room with amethyst fire, and when he smiled at me it was all fang and fury.
He grabbed my bound wrists and jerked me toward the door, laughing that sinister laugh that had awoken me from my visions in screams and sobs. I balked, all thoughts of being able to rescue myself through our mental connection extinguished.
There was no connecting with this Vampire. No amount of reasoning or pleading would touch him, because there was nothing remotely civilized here.
The Vampire before me truly was the Rapist reborn.
Chapter
One Hundred Eleven
N ox sneered at the human he dragged behind him, before turning his back on her, the length of rope attached to her wrists slung jauntily over his shoulder. She sobbed and he shook his head, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. Crying? Really? Christ on a bagel, he was getting too old for this shit.
Whatever had possessed him to try and convince Fuhrmann to spare her life? He’d obviously been manipulated by her, all of that talk of family and love. It was repulsive, really. Give him a simple fuck and bleed, and he was good to go. Emotions were for the weak, and he was categorically not weak.
When he approached Fuhrmann with his ridiculous ideas, the Sorcerer had been livid. Not only had Nox tried to plea for the human’s life, he had the audacity to accuse his mentor of controlling him somehow. Utterly preposterous. Nox’s talents made him the most powerful Vampire in existence today—no, the most powerful creature. To even think a mere Sorcerer like Helmut Fuhrmann, likeable as he was, could have the strength to control Nox? Especially mentally? Ha!
Of course, Fuhrmann had shown him the error of his ways, in his own charming manner.
“Stop sniveling,” he had said. “I can’t make you do anything that goes against your nature. My magic does not work like that. I may have put the thoughts in your head, persuaded you of the necessity to commit those crimes, but somewhere, deep inside, you were fine with it, no magical influence required. You killed those women, and you loved it, just as your pathetic brother thrilled in butchering my wife and so many others.
“As for Jessica, she is collateral damage. You’ll do what I ask, and you know, deep in that black heart of yours, that you will enjoy it. We will destroy this animal, and then he will die, and all of the pain and suffering he brought down upon this world, on both of us, will be avenged.”
Nox, please, this isn’t you. Look at me, please. You know you don’t want to hurt me. You’re a good person. Please Nox, please let me go!
Gods, he wished she would get out of his head. This constant barrage of begging and thought inspiring drivel was driving him mad.
Telling Fuhrmann about their telepathy had been unintentional; however, the Sorcerer was not without skills, and was able to magically enhance Nox’s shields. He may not be able to keep her from yakking at him, but it would be impossible for her to hear his thoughts unless he sent something to her directly. Why would he want to do that, though?
Right now, his thoughts were entirely nefarious, and that made him smile a wicked smile. Perhaps he should send her a peek of what was to come. She found the idea of him biting her repulsive? Well, love, tonight, that would be no more than an appetizer.
This made him laugh out loud, and when he did, the sniveling bitch let out an ear splitting scream, which only made him laugh harder. She tried to plant her feet, but he jerked the rope again and she staggered along behind him.
Nox was suddenly eager to reach the altar room. There, he would show his brother once and for all that he, Nox, was the superior twin. He would strip that monster of everything he cared about, starting with the human Nox dragged behind him, and ending with his pathetic life.
Chapter
One Hundred Twelve
R aven watched as the Sorcerer continued to chant, calling to his dead wife. He wasn’t sure, but it sounded like Fuhrmann was summoning her spirit. Raven knew the guy was deranged but this was full-goose crazy.
Candles flickered on the altar, and there was a large stone bowl in the center, filled with a substance Raven couldn’t make out even from his fly on the wall position. Fuhrmann kept on with the Latin, saying something about the thinning veil and the dead returning. Again and again, he beckoned his dead wife.
Finally, holding the dagger above the bowl, Fuhrmann slid two fingers from hilt to point, scraping Raven’s blood into the basin to pool with whatever concoction was already there. The blood landed with a hiss, and an extraordinary cloud of steam rose from the bowl. The cloud grew larger and higher until it hovered in front of the altar, between Fuhrmann and Raven.
Fuhrmann’s hair was flying as though a cyclone swirled around him, his face slack with wonder as he gazed at the diaphanous specter.
“Sylva, mein Schatz, my treasure,” he cried, and indeed the fog was materializing into the shape of a woman, one whose face Raven would never forget.
As the spirit, or whatever it was, of Fuhrman’s wife grew more distinct, he rounded the altar to stand at her side.
“Liebchen, you have come to me,” he cried and fell to his knees, tears streaming down his long, pale face, hands raised in supplication to the ghost of his wife. The spirit reached an ethereal hand to him, placed it on his face and raised his chin so she could look into his eyes. It was as though she were becoming corporeal, and that didn’t bode well for Raven.
“Look, Sylva, I’ve brought you a present,” Fuhrmann gestured. The woman turned her cursed face to Raven, and upon seeing him in this precarious position, her lips settled into a deliberate smile.
Raven blinked and Sylva was standing before him, eyes gleaming as she examined him. She reached a solid finger and traced the cuts in Raven’s chest. He hissed, more from the iciness of her touch than from the open wounds, and her smile widened
Her white-blonde hair fell past her shoulders in silken clouds, and everything about her was as splendid as the day Raven had destroyed her. The day she, in return, had destroyed him.
She caught Raven’s gaze, opened her mouth, then closed it again. Raven flinched when she cleared her throat, unprepared for this abomination to speak.
“Did you find your love,” she asked him in that soft, commanding voice he would never forget.
Raven swallowed. It was impossible not to answer, her eyes locked on his as they were, yet he could only nod.
She smiled and turned from him, nodding her head in return. Fuhrmann, having risen from where he knelt, reached a hand to her and she returned to him and took it.
“This night,” he told her, “is for you. I have prepared a little demonstration for our murderous friend. I was so hoping you would be able to join us.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said, as the door across the room opened.
When the Vampire entered, Raven could do nothing but stare. Before him was the male he’d shared a womb with, was born with, and yet had never met.
Nox sneered at him, eyes already sparking, fangs bared in a snarled greeting as he disappeared himself into the shadows.
Raven’s eyes, however, were drawn to the person behind his twin. Dressed in a ridiculously cheesy black robe, with her hair pulled back and her hands bound before her…
“Jessica,” he sighed. Her head whipped up at the sound of his voice, her eyes widening as her lovely face fell.
“Oh, Raven,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
Chapter
One Hundred Thirteen
S eeing Raven displayed like that, the daggers, the blood, I staggered, Nox’s hold on my leash the only thing keeping me standing. Raven’s eyes were sparking, his fangs bared, and the way he was positioned reminded me of myself not too many months ago when Helmut Fuhrmann had given me the beating of the century.
Did I mention the blood? It was everywhere. Massive q
uantities of it running down the walls in rivers, from his wrists, his ankles, and his chest looked like someone’s Halloween pumpkin project. I started toward him, but was jerked back by the rope attached to my wrists.
“In due time, my dear,” came a voice from behind. “For now, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
No. It couldn’t be.
Helmut Fuhrmann was miles and miles away from here. He ran away when Harrier attacked him, and he would be a fool to have returned.
I tore my gaze from Raven’s tortured body and turned toward the voice. I blinked once, twice, but the apparition before me refused to go away.
Fuhrmann was standing across the room, next to a stone table with a beautiful woman who didn’t look quite real. She was obviously a Sorceress. Nobody else in the world was that thin and pale. But she seemed off, somehow. She was the least of my worries, though. If Fuhrmann was here it meant that Raven and I were toast, and that asshole had already started on Raven.
“My wife, Sylva.” Fuhrmann gestured toward the pale woman beside him. “Sylva, I’m pleased to introduce you to Jessica Sweet, your torturer’s paramour.”
“Charmed,” she said, her voice sweet, but sounding a bit underused.
“Wait,” I said, finding my own voice. “Did you say, Sylva? As in, your dead wife Sylva?”
“It’s Samhain, you idiot,” Fuhrmann spat. “The veil between the living and dead has thinned, and I have brought her to me as I have every year since her death. However, this year is going to be quite special. This year, she will witness her murderer’s demise.” He laughed like the lunatic he was, but Sylva, or Sylva’s ghost rather, looked at him with a curious tilt of her head.
“You see,” Fuhrmann continued for his wife’s benefit, “Miss Sweet embodies the love you cursed upon the monster Rapist. She is the reason he is so willing to die. You did well, mein Schatz. I couldn’t have performed the curse any better.”
Nox stepped forward, out of the shadows, and bowed to Sylva. “Nox, at your service, madam,” he said, but Sylva screamed and moved to hide behind Fuhrmann.
“What devilry is this?” She glanced at the wall to ensure Raven still hung there, her eyes darting back at Nox before settling on her husband. “How can this be?” she cried. Fuhrmann took her hand and pulled her into his arms.
“Quiet now, Liebchen. He is but a twin, and he is on our side. You needn’t be afraid. He will do no harm to you or to me. In fact, he is the costar of the little show I have planned.
“Nox, please take your place in front of our guest of honor.”
Chapter
One Hundred Fourteen
R aven’s vision was blurring, but still he could see that his brother had stolen his clothes and was wearing them. Did he think that by dressing like Raven, he could become Raven?
Nox dragged Jessica to the center of the four stakes, driven deep into the concrete floor, and they stood until Fuhrmann started barking orders.
“Now, Nox. You know what to do, do it!”
Nox shook his head, not in denial, but as if he had water in his ears. Jessica was staring at the male hard, as though she were willing him to see reason.
Without warning, Nox reached for Jessica, grabbed the front of that cheap black robe and ripped it off of her, leaving it to pool at her feet. Jessica tried to cover her nakedness, but Nox intervened. He forced her to the floor, where she fought for all she was worth. But he was too strong, too fast, and more quickly than even Raven could track, had her tied, hands and feet, to the four stakes, her head close to the altar.
Jessica’s screams tore through Raven like a hot knife, and he renewed his struggles, trying desperately to reach her, to save her, but it was no use. The magical daggers in his limbs would not be moved.
Nox knelt beside Jessica’s head, an odd look about him, part predator, part prey.
Meanwhile, Fuhrmann rounded the altar and stood next to them, hate-filled eyes grazing Jessica’s exposed body before shooting a venomous look at Raven.
“I suppose as the Narrator, I should set the scene for you,” Fuhrman said, crimson eyes glued to Raven. “Perhaps you remember some of it. I do apologize for the change in venue, but I’m sure you can use your imagination.
Sylva had moved to sit on the altar, legs crossed at the ankles. She looked like a child at her first big screen movie.
“Picture this,” Fuhrman continued in a loud stage voice. The year is 1856. Scene? Deep in the Schwarzwald, the Black Forest. Enter our villain, the Vampire Rapist, evil personified, who happens upon a young damsel.” He motioned toward Jessica and Nox, but his glare was for Raven, alone. “Oh, I think you know how this goes. Nox, begin!”
Raven pulled at the daggers, struggling to free himself but it was no use. He could have withstood any punishment, any torture Anything but this.
Nox stood over Jessica, his intentions clear. He glanced over his shoulder to look Raven in the eye. That one look said everything as he moved to do Fuhrmann’s bidding.
Chapter
One Hundred Fifteen
R aven roared like a ferocious beast, and I screamed for him to help me. He struggled against the daggers, but for some reason wasn’t able to pull them out. He was in full Vampire mode, giving it everything he had, but if he could have freed himself he would have done it by now.
I was on my own, yet all I could do was scream.
“She’s not doing it right,” I heard Sylva whine somewhere above me. “I never made a peep. And there’s not nearly enough blood.”
I took a deep breath to scream again, for spite this time, but Fuhrmann pulled his silencer spell on me, and all that came out was air.
I yanked at my restraints, the ropes rubbing raw spots on my skin, as Nox moved to straddle me, his knees at my hips. I was really regretting my decision to go commando about now, but Fuhrmann had a thing for leaving his victims exposed and vulnerable, so it probably wouldn’t have mattered.
What did matter? Raven’s struggles were becoming weaker and weaker, and I had but one chance at saving us. Only Nox wasn’t being overly cooperative right now, seeing how he was busy getting his snarly beast on.
Nox, I begged. I had been carrying on this one sided mental conversation with him ever since he brought me out of my cell.
Please, I thought to him, you don’t want to do this. He was laying on top of me now, eyes sparking, fangs full out, and the only thing that gave me hope was that he was still fully clothed.
You have a choice, I pled. The Primeval did this. They not only kept you from your parents, they deprived you of the chance to know your brother. If you do this, you can never go back.
Nox was touching me, pawing at me, and thankfully so far had kept his claws in. Wait, I spoke too soon. With his hand on my breast I could feel his nails lengthening, and my heart was a caged animal trying to pound its way out of my chest.
Nox, please, I continued. Let me help you. You don’t have to listen to Fuhrmann. Can’t you see he’s controlling you?
Nox rose up on his elbows and sneered at me, but he responded at last. No one controls me.
You’re wrong, I countered. You are not yourself. This entire week you were decent and even kind sometimes. You were good to me, even though you didn’t have to be. Can’t you see he’s using you for his own revenge? This is not your fight.
No, Jessica, you are wrong. His thoughts were so intense I flinched. He glared at me and sent, He is the only person who cares. You certainly don’t. To you, I am filth, too repulsive to have at your throat.
I’m so sorry, I said. I waited all day for you to come back so I could apologize. I never meant to hurt you. It frightened me, is all. You know I saw what you did to those other girls. When you said you wanted to bite me I thought you meant, well, this.
“Nox,” Fuhrmann yelled. “Are you going to fuck her or do I have to do it myself?” Nox whipped his head up and snapped his fangs at the Sorcerer, his eyes sparking with amethyst fire.
“Don’t rush me,” he
snarled. “You want it to last, don’t you?”
Sylva laughed and Fuhrmann said, “Never mind that. She’s a sure thing. Just do it already. I want to celebrate our victory with my wife before the veil closes.”
Nox refocused his attention on me, and I shook my head back and forth. No, Nox, don’t you see? It’s all about him and Sylva. He cares nothing for you. Ask him. Ask him what happens after this.
He sees my worth, Nox sent to me. He values me as he would a son. He is my family now.
No, Nox, No. He’s a stranger who has used magic to convince you to do things you wouldn’t normally do. He will abandon you the moment Raven and I are dead. I glanced past Nox’s broad shoulder to see that Raven was struggling to keep his eyes open. I tried to push inside his mind like I did with Nox, but it seemed this really was something I shared only with my lover’s twin.
I’d like to say I’m sorry, Jessica, but I’m not. It would be nice to know that this was a mutual thing, what we’re about to do. But since you think I’m a filthy animal, I will have to behave like one. You said I would never taste you? Well, love, you were dead wrong.
He lunged for my neck, and in a move born of desperation, I turned my head to intercept his mouth with my own. His fangs scraped my lips, but I ignored the pain and pushed our mouths more tightly together. When he didn’t pull away, I turned the movement into a real kiss, and he responded as I hoped he would. No more thoughts passed between us, only the kiss, and I put every ounce of faith and belief that I had in Raven into this one act of compassion for his brother.
After a not altogether unpleasant eternity, Nox pulled his lips from mine and rested his forehead against my chin.
”What the hell was that?” Fuhrmann cried. “I didn’t tell you to make out with her, you idiot. I told you to kill her, not take her to the prom. Get on with it, now, or I’ll slit your throat, and end her myself.” When Nox didn’t move, Fuhrmann continued his barrage of insults. “You stupid, ignorant, motherless son of a whore. I brought you here for one reason, and this is it. Are you really so useless? Do it! Now!”
