Splintered Nights

by Veronica Del Rosa

  I walked up a stone ramp and stepped into a smallish room with three tunnels leading in different directions. No decision needed this time, since Maxwell stood before me with a welcoming grin. Kneeling next to him, bound, gagged, and blindfolded, was Jacy.

  For a moment, I suspected he’d sent another in his place. The vampire before me looked nothing like I’d pictured. Most vampires I’d had the misfortune to meet were caricatures of humanity. Elongated jaws, fangs, skin stretched too tight, madness in their eyes.

  I certainly hadn’t expected a vampire of Japanese descent, not with a name like Maxwell Winter and an English accent. Maybe he was fucking with me.

  Maxwell appeared human. If I passed him on the street, I would’ve missed the monster lurking beneath his pleasant exterior. A few inches taller than me, he radiated power and control, his stance loose and his expression friendly. Long strands of brown hair shaded his eyes, leaving the lower half of his face in stark relief. His hollow cheeks, an angular jaw, and lush lips would draw a second and third glance.

  The smile on his face was meant to relax me. It failed.

  Jacy’s head jerked up when my scent hit her and her brows slammed together. A whimper clogged her throat as she jerked towards me.

  “Heel. Bad dog.” Maxwell jerked the chain wrapped around her neck and she sank back to her knees. “Good dog. Disobey me again and I’ll bleed you dry.”

  “The fuck you will,” I said, curling my fingers tighter around the wooden stake. “You’re letting her go. Jacy has nothing to do with this. You want me. Well, you got me.”

  Maxwell chuckled, the low sound raising the hairs on my arms and creating a strange sensation in my chest. “You are a feisty one, aren’t you? You’ll be amusing to tame. And I’m not done yet with this mutt.”

  I crossed my arms and tapped the stake against my bicep. His eyes flicked to the sharpened stick, amusement lighting up his face. I had to admit, if I’d met him under less creepy and disturbing circumstance, I would’ve found him attractive.

  But good looks meant zilch when nothing but evil lurked beneath the skin. He enjoyed inflicting horror and pain. Maxwell wasn’t a tortured soul. He had no soul.

  “Who helped you?” I demanded, not expecting a straight answer. “Why involve the werewolves?”

  “I’m not telling. And because it’s fun.” He stepped forward, dragging Jacy along the ground. My fingers itched to slam the stake into his chest. “Soon I’ll wipe the wolves from existence. They’re an abomination on this earth, an infection.”

  “And what do you call vampires, huh? You’re twisted versions of humanity.” All the nights I’d lain in terror, waiting for one of them to attack me, poured venom into my voice. “Humans would be better off without your kind preying on us.”

  Maxwell chuckled, a soft, insidious sound. “But vampires are humans, my dear Pearle. We craved power and everlasting life, so we traded our mortal souls for it. Can’t you feel it inside you, begging for release? Join us. Join me. Rule by my side.”

  “I’m nothing like you, and your polluted blood in my veins won’t turn me into a monster. I reject everything you are.” I slid my knife from its sheath and adjusted my hand on the worn grip, settling into the comfort of having a weapon in both hands. My heart thudded a slow, steady beat and my vision sharpened on the creature before me.

  “Now Pearle, do you honestly believe you can defeat me? I’ve been alive far longer than you. A mere slip of a child can’t best me.” Maxwell’s patronising smile was enough to push a saint over the edge and I’d never claimed to be a saint.

  Attack strategies zipped through my mind, ones to keep me out of arm’s reach. Instead, I threw myself forward, my wooden stake aimed for Maxwell’s heart. I no longer cared which werewolf had betrayed Cole, I simply wanted Maxwell dead.

  My rational brain screamed at me for my impetuous actions.

  He knocked my hand aside, his laughter low and mocking, and I swiped the blade across his chest, slicing through his shirt and flesh. His amusement abruptly died, rage contorting his face, and I knocked the chain from his hand, freeing Jacy from his tight grip. She fell forwards and crawled from us.

  Maxwell backhanded me, whipping my head sideways, and tears blinded me. Holy fuck, that hurt. In retaliation, I stabbed at his gut, which he parried. Years of battling vampires plus the few weeks of sparring with Cole had made me slightly faster than a normal human, but I was nowhere near as quick as a centuries-old vampire.

  In a blink, his hand was wrapped around my throat. He lifted me straight up, my feet leaving the ground. Gasping, I kicked at him and tried to bury either the stake or the knife in his chest. None of it fazed him.

  Dragging me nose to nose with him, Maxwell whispered, “You can’t defeat me. I’m your sire and will always be stronger. If you look deep inside, you’ll see you don’t want to harm me. I am your master. Your reason for breathing.”

  I pulled my arm back and slammed the stake into his side, tearing a hole in his flesh. Maxwell roared and flung me away. The wall halted my backwards momentum with a sickening crunch. I slid to the ground, stunned and aching. My head pounded, my muscles screamed, my lungs rattled. I tasted blood. My chances of living through this ordeal narrowed from slim to not-in-this-lifetime.

  Struggling to stand and failing, I glared at Maxwell. If I died, so be it, but I refused to let Jacy join me. She didn’t deserve this fate, and I wouldn’t let her suffer more because of me.

  With a growl, I forced myself up, using the wall for support. The knife still tightly gripped in my fist, I sized up the vampire in front of me. A pleasant grin played over his lips, as if I’d impressed him and he wanted to reward me.

  Liquid warmth poured through my body, like I’d immersed myself in heated honey, and bliss burst through my mind. I’d never experienced such exquisite ecstasy. The pain disappeared, as if it had never existed, and I dug my fingers into the wall in a desperate attempt to gain control.

  What was wrong with me?

  I’d lost my desire to kill Maxwell. And my knife.

  A low moan vibrated my throat, one filled with pleasure and despair. “What’s happening to me?”

  “I’m healing you. The blood in your body belongs to me. It obeys my will.” Maxwell glided towards me, exuding raw sexuality. The bliss fell away and I grabbed the stake from the ground. The greedy wood had absorbed his drying blood. “I’ve spent years searching for you—my perfect queen. Soon you’ll learn obedience.”

  I scoffed to cover my growing worry. A twisting, pulling sensation in my chest yearned for Maxwell. I moved closer without realizing it, like something else had taken control of my body. The satisfaction on his face increased my anxiety.

  “Please.” The plea burst from my lips and my legs trembled as I fought against the inexplicable urge to satisfy Maxwell’s every whim. I could feel tendrils of him invading my mind.

  “Drop the stake, Pearle. Don’t upset me.” His calm tone ripped through me, like I was a naughty child disobeying her loving parent. No, that wasn’t right. He didn’t see me as his child. I’d soon be his queen, the one to rule over his empire with him, and I didn’t want to upset him.

  The stake clattered to the ground and rolled away from me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice small. “Forgive me?”

  “Of course I forgive you. I just need you to do one thing for me.” He yanked Jacy up, holding her in front of him, his fingers digging into her biceps. Her body shook, the omega in a terrifying situation and unable to save herself. She’d ripped away the blindfold and gag, but remained cuffed.

  “Anything,” I said, eager to prove my loyalty to him.

  “Kill her,” Maxwell ordered, his voice hard and ugly.

  “What? That wasn’t—”

  Maxwell gripped her throat.

  A knife appeared in my hand. My knife. My brow knitted for a moment as I wondered when I’d grabbed it. My gaze drifted back to Jacy, and Maxwell’s words echoed in my mind, growing strong
er until I heard nothing else. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her.

  I struggled.

  I struggled so hard to disobey him.

  In the end, it wasn’t enough. I plunged the knife into Jacy’s chest.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Horror choked me and a low, keening noise erupted from my mouth.

  What have I done? I released the knife, stumbling backwards, and tried to deny the scene before me. Jacy didn’t have a blade in her chest. I hadn’t stabbed the one person I cared about. Maxwell wasn’t laughing his fucking ass off.

  No. No. No! She couldn’t die. I wouldn’t let it happen.

  I launched myself at them and ripped Jacy from Maxwell’s arms. With a shaking hand, I smoothed her hair from her face. “Hang on, Jacy. You’ll be fine, I promise. Cole will be here soon. He’ll know what to do. Just hang on.”

  Tears blurred my gaze and snot ran from my nose while I frantically tried to stem the bleeding. I didn’t want to move the knife in case she gushed, but I couldn’t remember if it’d interfere with her healing. Helplessness slammed into me, increasing the tears pouring down my face, and Maxwell’s mocking laughter rang in my ears.

  “She’ll die and it’ll be your fault. The werewolves will want nothing to do with you. Come with me and you can rule at my side. My subjects will worship you.” Maxwell stood next to me. “Choose. Be a pariah or a goddess.”

  I couldn’t look at him. Rage and sorrow drowned me.

  A heartbreaking howl echoed through the tunnels, giving voice to my inner turmoil.

  And then I was flung in the air, away from Maxwell. Away from Jacy. My ears ringing, I blinked and wiped at my eyes, clearing the tears.

  Cole knelt next to Jacy, his face crumpled in pain and denial. He jerked the knife from her chest, hurled it aside, and thrust his hand against the wound. My heart twisted at the sight of his naked anguish.

  The pack, along with Halvar, rushed into the tunnels and blocked the exits. Maxwell had no escape. He’d answer for his crimes.

  With a devious smile, he said, “I didn’t harm her, Pearle did. Aggression against me will incite a war, one the likes you’ve never seen before. You have no right to hold me.”

  My one chance at freedom was slipping away. The werewolves couldn’t fight against all of Maxwell’s children. He’d turned thousands of humans into monsters. Cole’s pack numbered in the low twenties. Even if he convinced the other packs to stand with him, it wouldn’t be enough. Jacy’s death would never be avenged.

  “Go fuck yourself,” I gritted out, forcing myself to stand. Adrenaline laced my blood, making my legs wobble and my heart pound. Maxwell’s death was my only way out of here. I wouldn’t join him, and the werewolves would shun me because of Jacy.

  My thoughts crystallized. My whole life had led up to this moment. I had to kill the monster who’d ruled my nights or die in the attempt.

  “Come, Pearle. Time for us to leave.” Maxwell held out his hand, an easy grin relaxing the intensity in his eyes.

  “No, I don’t want to,” I mumbled while I took a step closer to him, as if I couldn’t control myself. But the rage running through my veins was more than enough to wash away his fetid influence. I shook my head and used the movement to search for my knife.

  Maxwell’s grin remained in place, unconcerned with my weak refusal. He assumed he’d win our battle of wills again, since he’d already controlled me earlier, except now I knew what to expect and I refused to lose myself a second time.

  Arrogance oozed from him, unaware of my thoughts.

  “I could make you obey me. You’ve already seen my powers.”

  Was he seriously bragging about making me harm Jacy? In front of the werewolves he was using me against to deny responsibility? My stomach tightened while anger washed over me. Two steps to the knife, two steps to Maxwell.

  Cole remained kneeling next to Jacy, his eyes closed and brows furrowed. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he taking her to a hospital or something? My fear for Jacy fed my anger until my vision narrowed to encompass only the monster before me.

  I raced towards Maxwell, scooping up the knife in one fluid movement. My instincts guided me now and I blocked out all conscious thought.

  Maxwell, however, wasn’t a novice vampire.

  He sidestepped me and I skidded past him. He grabbed my arm, wrenching the limb backwards, and pain wormed into my brain. I bit my cheek to keep the scream in check. Never give the monster what he wants or he’d take and take until nothing but bitter ash was left.

  I whirled, unable to stop my momentum, and swiped at his face with the blade. My aim went wide, missing his cheek, and my wrist thudded against his hand holding me tight. With a chuckle, he shook my aching arm and I swung the knife in a backwards arc.

  Blood leaked from his jaw and dripped onto his expensive suit jacket, the black-red liquid vibrant on the grey material. Maxwell glanced down and snarled, furious I’d stained his clothes. I bared my teeth, unwilling to back down. He’d engineered this fight, not me. All he’d had to do was leave me alone. Instead, he’d forced me to stab my best friend.

  I jabbed at his kidney, aware it wouldn’t do much damage, but since Maxwell seemed fond of his suit, the least I could do was tear some holes in it. He anticipated the move and blocked me. Grabbing my wrist, he yanked me closer to him until our lips almost touched. Bile rose in my throat.

  “I will feast on your blood before the night’s over,” he whispered, desire blazing in his gaze. “You’ll enjoy life as my queen. You’ll sate my hunger.”

  His tone gave me no illusions as to his meaning. Blood wasn’t the only appetite of his I whetted.

  I yanked my head backwards, unable to move the rest of my body while locked in his tight grip. He didn’t even flinch at my useless kicks. I’d rarely felt helpless. Scared, vulnerable, and lonely, yes, but not helpless. Tonight I’d learned the feeling well.

  My stomach churned as the truth gnawed through my own arrogance. I couldn’t defeat him.

  Maxwell had beaten me without throwing a single punch. Pride crumbled, taking with it my desire to fight. My master waited patiently for me to acknowledge who I belonged to and who owned my soul.

  His gentle smile held no malice towards me. He’d forgiven me for denying what he’d always known, forgiven me for the pain I’d caused him by running away.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I didn’t realize.”

  The knife clattered to the ground. My last link to my father, but I didn’t care. It meant nothing in the face of my destiny—the smiling, handsome face of Maxwell. My life was meant for pleasuring him.

  I blinked, shocked at my thoughts. Giving my life over to this monster would never happen. He’d gained control of my thoughts again, hadn’t he? An insidious presence creeping into my brain, a touch so deft I hadn’t realized he’d snuck in.

  His lips twisted, though he didn’t let me go. “Almost had you.”

  I struggled, kicking and hitting him again. Ignoring the pain in my wrenched shoulder, I clawed at his face, leaving shallow furrows behind. They knitted together within seconds. The cut on his jaw had also healed. Without a proper weapon, I couldn’t kill him, but I’d keep fighting until I had no more breath left in me.

  “Pearle, stop.” Maxwell’s voice burrowed into my brain, ripping past my meagre defences once more, and I jerked to a halt, unable to control my body. He stepped closer to me, his body flush with mine, and with a smug grin, he trailed a finger along my cheek. “That’s a good girl. It feels better to obey me, doesn’t it? Soon you’ll crave it.”

  “No,” I whispered, denying more than just his words. I rejected the hold he had on my body, struggled against the mental bonds he’d shackled me with.

  Halvar inched closer to Maxwell’s back, silence shrouding him. The vampire cocked his head, amusement lighting up his features.

  “Come closer, human, and I’ll snap Pearle’s neck and paralyse her. She won’t be any good to you if she’s a quadriplegic.” Maxwell g
ently caressed my neck. “And then she’ll beg me to turn her.”

  Halvar slammed into Maxwell. Maxwell’s fingers twitched and I lost all control of my body. My arms refused to obey me, my legs turned into lead. I was adrift in sensations I couldn’t understand.

  Unable to catch myself, I dropped to the ground and scraped my face against the rough stone as I rolled down the ramp. My discarded stake lay next to me, having made the same journey as my wayward body. My knife remained lost in the darkness, its black blade camouflaging it.

  Grunts distracted me from my pointless searching. Halvar smacked into the wall, and I arched my neck, desperate to help but unable to move. He pushed himself upright, a stake in his hand. He’d attack over and over until he died, unwilling to accept that he couldn’t defeat Maxwell.

  Painful tingles flowed over my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut, denying the need to cry out. Hot liquid rushed down my spine and my fingers twitched. My legs jerked. Surprise peeled my lids apart and I stared at the ceiling in wonder.

  The rush of warmth dissipated, as did the euphoria. Maxwell’s healing had fixed me again.

  Another grunt and the thunderous sound of a giant hitting the floor pushed all other thoughts from my head. Halvar needed my help.

  I jumped to my feet and scooped up the wooden stake. The one weapon I could rely on. It’d never failed me and it wouldn’t fail me tonight. No matter how many vampires I’d faced, a well-placed stick in the heart killed the vilest of monsters.

  No yells for vengeance, no cries for strength. I pushed myself up and ran straight for Maxwell, his back to me as he stalked towards Halvar’s prone body. The stake smashed through his ribcage, my aim true. I rammed it deep, puncturing his dead heart, and grinned.

  He spun but didn’t fight me, surprise written across his handsome features. Maxwell had expected me to remain obedient, a mindless slave to his blood. He’d misjudged the depth of my feelings for Jacy and my fury at my role in her pain.

  “I accept your terms of battle. I’m not part of any pack, so your minions will have me and me alone to blame for your death. Die horribly,” I spat out.