by T. A. Grey
Suddenly an arm wrapped around her chest and dragged her backward. She jerked then saw who it was and relaxed. “Grayson—” she began, then gasped when she saw what had been done to him. His face was swelling around his left eye. Purples and blues were beginning to infuse his irritated skin. Blood had dripped from his nose leaving a red line above his lip and he wore a pained grimace that spoke of other bodily injuries. “What happened? I sort of…went wild for a minute there and didn’t see you.”
He scowled as he positioned himself to lean back against the wall. She’d turned into him and they were nearly hugging. Much as they’d been when they were caught. “Nothing happened. Listen to me, I’m going to get us out of here.”
She almost smiled. “I knew it! I knew there had to be a Plan B.”
He looked contrite. “I don’t know if I’d called it that, but yeah. Something like that.”
She waited for him to continue. “Well, what is it?”
The door opened and Jericho came back into the room. The vampire was cool and collected. He had a silver machete in his hand. Her hand curled into his shirt.
“Tell me,” she said, her voice barely audible.
“We’re going to have to wait.”
That’s all he got time to say before Jericho came to the cell. “Bring him out.”
The guards unlocked the cell and slid the door along the track to open it. Grayson stepped forward. He went so willingly. Always the hero.
She fought it instantly. “No!” She dove forward to charge one of the guards, not caring if she got hurt; she’d do anything to make sure they didn’t hurt him. But Grayson caught her attack and he shoved her back into the cell.
“Be calm!” he ordered. And she saw it on his face. He was doing this to protect her. Probably in some way she couldn’t even conceive of now, he was protecting her in some way. That was his nature. It’s who he was.
They dragged him out of the cell but Jericho held up his hand. His eyes slid between Arabella and Grayson. A sinking feeling began in her gut and moved through her whole body.
“Stop,” Jericho said. Everyone stopped. “Bring her instead.”
The guards took one step toward her when Grayson tore a path straight to Jericho. He caught The Butcher by surprise and landed a right hook so hard, Jericho’s head made an awful crunch. But they quickly caught Grayson and shoved him back inside. She went without a fuss, dread making her limbs heavy.
She didn’t turn around. Even as she heard Grayson fighting and the guards hitting him.
“Shut him up,” Jericho said. Some of his calm was gone after Grayson’s surprise attack. His voice because hoarse and wispy, almost soft. It was eerie as hell.
What is happening to me?
Her hands were shoved into shackles and wrenched above her head. Her ankles were bound by ice-cold metal to the concrete floor.
“Take her clothes off.”
No! She went numb. Shaking too hard, her teeth were chattering. She was blinking fast trying not to cry but tears slide down anyway. Her shoes are taken first. Bare toes touched the ice-cold floor. It felt wet and it scared her to think what from.
The fight in the cell reached a climax. Someone was hurt. Or maybe several someone’s. Maybe Grayson managed to kill one of the guards. Wow, the thought threw her through a loop. She was wishing someone truly dead—not something she’d ever done in her whole life.
The dress was cut from her body ruthlessly with scissors. They spared no scrap of cloth until all that was left was bare skin. She couldn’t keep from flinching. She was so exposed. The chains left her to hang some of her weight on her wrists. Her toes just scraped the floor. The perfect torture device to make you feel perfectly unstable and wobbly.
The cell door crashed closed behind her. Shaking under the weight of Jericho’s crazed stare, she peered over her shoulder. A cry escaped her when she found him. He was flat on the ground, unmoving.
“Did you kill him?”
No one said anything.
“Well, answer the lady,” Jericho said in that soft voice. An edge of violence was in his words.
“Nah, he’s just out. Took a few hits to the head. He’ll be ready for you,” the guard promised.
“There you have it.” Jericho moved and she flinched, afraid he was coming to her, but instead he began circling her. Oh, it was so much worse. Now he went in and out of her line of sight. Each time saying nothing but merely watching her.
“You dyed your hair. Why?”
The thought of telling this man anything personal about herself made her gag. “Why can’t I sense you?”
That smile came back. “Please, tell me what you mean.”
So polite, so soft-spoken. A maniac in disguise. “I-I’m sure you already know all about me. I can track people. I found you but I didn’t sense you.” She’d known something was different about him, but it’d barely set off her radar at all. Arabella had worked on honing her tracking skills with the help of her father for a long, long time.
He stepped forward, so close she jerked back in the chains but that only sent her swinging further back than she wanted. She paled as she realized the momentum was going to jerk her forward—and into him. Her flesh crawled like millions of squirming worms writhed across her body. Just as she knew would happen—she swung back too far then surged forward. No matter how hard she tried to buck away at the last second, she simply didn’t have enough maneuverability to miss slamming into him.
He caught her. Above the waist, the Mohawked Butcher held her bare straining body against his. She saw into his eyes. She wanted to look away but in that moment she thought of Grayson and that gave her the courage she needed. His eyes were pale blue. And they were dead. Completely and utterly dead. He had the eyes of a man who’d stolen lives without guilt or remorse. He was a killer. And she was a mouse.
“You are a special Were.” He brushed the hair back from her face like a father to a daughter. “I want to know all about your ability. You’ll tell me about it, won’t you?” This was a man you did not say no to.
Arabella chose not to say anything. He continued to stroke her hair as she waited in fear of his reaction. Would he yank her hair? Each agonizing stroke made her wince, waiting for it to come.
But he stepped back and away. He disappeared behind her. The guards were nowhere in sight. All she could see was the door Jericho had used earlier and the concrete wall surrounding it. She became aware of how cold it was down here. Her skin prickled with goosebumps and the hair stood up on her body. Her nipples were hard and her fingers were like icicles from hanging above her head for so long.
She suddenly screamed as icy cold water doused her backside. A hose with so much pressure the flow of water blasted her, stinging and so cold. She shivered, her body jerking to try to get out of the water. Then it stopped. She was breathing hard—part terror, part shock. That’s when she realized having the hose off was worse.
Her sensitive skin turned even colder as the cool air caressed her like an open wound. Jericho hugged her from behind one arm wrapped around her hips. She was shaking in his hold unable to control the impulses. Her teeth chattered viciously.
A sharp edge pressed into her abdomen above her hip. His hatchet. He didn’t say anything. But she felt the blade cut into her. He gave it a sawing motion and then it vanished. Gasping, Arabella stared down at the line of blood he left in his wake. He’d cut her. Not very deep, just a line. It felt like a warning—or a threat.
“Don’t! Please don’t!” Her plea didn’t even make him turn his head. He cut her again. This time she didn’t bother begging. It served no purpose. He had her in his complete control.
When he was done he’d cut five lines into her each one getting longer and deeper as he went.
“Tell me how you found this place.” The hatchet lifted. It was polished silver, very pretty. It looked handmade and customized just for his hand. Hatchets were primitive weapons, and still one of the best tools to kill with. The edge of the blade touched t
he puckered tip of her nipple.
Arabella tensed, holding her breath as she tried not to move. He held the blade there with ease. “I tracked you. But I don’t understand how I tracked you here without actually recognizing you when I saw you.”
He pulled away. Only then did she let out the large breath she’d been holding.
“You’re not the only one with a unique ability, Arabella. My family’s quite good at hiding from people. It’s our own special power. If you want to think of it like that.”
“But then how did I know this was your c-casino?” she retorted, stammering from cold
It sounded like Grayson was waking up. There was some groaning and shuffling around behind her. Her heart started racing again. Jericho came around in front of her. With the top of his hatchet he lifted her chin until she met his gaze. Her blood tipped the edge of the blade in reminder of what he’d done.
“That’s what I want to know.”
“W-well I don’t know how it works. I can track people and when I found this place I knew it belonged to you. But even when I was in the same room with you I didn’t know who you were.”
“So you can only partially track me.” He looked contemplative. “That is interesting.” He turned to the guards. “I have to make a call. Hose them both down and get him set up on the chains.”
CHAPTER 24
Jericho Donato called his father. The private line to Vincent was answered on the third ring.
“What is it?” his father asked.
“I have Grayson and the Were down in the casino.”
A gasp. He could almost feel his father’s pride and joy through the phone. Jericho smiled. “That’s good, son. That’s real good. I knew you could do it. For Domico.”
“For Domico,” confirmed Jericho.
His father’s voice came through louder. “I’m coming down there immediately. Don’t kill him yet. We’ll do it together. That motherfucker’s gonna taste pain unlike anything he’s ever had before.” It was a promise.
“Yes, father. The Were, what of her?” he asked quietly. His father noticed though. Nothing escaped him. His interest in the Were was already noted and categorized by his father’s calculating mind.
“We kill her.”
“She could track us. I believe she could track for us.”
A pause, then, “Damn fine mind you have there, boy. We’ll keep her for now. But Jericho, you can’t keep her. We can’t have another situation like last time. With that girl.” His father was getting quieter. And when his father got quiet, you listened carefully. He and his brothers had learned that lesson when they were young. It was no longer a lesson but instinct ingrained into him through his father’s child rearing.
Jericho’s eye twitched at the reminder of Theresa. He blushed in embarrassment and gritted his teeth. “Yes, father. I understand perfectly.”
“Good. I’ll be there tonight.”
Jericho ended the call and only then did he breathe freely like a great weight had lifted off his chest. He went back into the prison and found Grayson Blackmoore hanging from his ceiling dripping wet and bleeding. He palmed his hatchet, the metal hot in his palm.
“We finally meet.”
Grayson, the vampire who’d killed his brother like nothing more than a dog, didn’t raise his head to watch Jericho coming toward him. The opportunities that awaited for him were endless. So much pain to be inflicted. Every scream he could rip from the vampire’s throat was revenge for Domico.
Jericho flipped the blade in his hand then spun it and caught it again. He repeated the action until he fell into a rhythm doing it. The woman, Arabella, had crouched in her cell still naked and cold. She covered her face afraid to watch what was about to happen. She was so innocent. He didn’t come across many like her. He could see it in her eyes—she wasn’t a killer.
“You took someone very important away from me. And now I’m going to take away everyone important to you. I started with your mate.”
Grayson surged against the chains, anger flashing in his eyes. There you are. The beast. Jericho struck and put the beast down.
CHAPTER 25
For hours he hung from chains. And in that time she was forced to watch and listen to the heinous atrocities happening to a man she cared about. The cries, the grunts, the trembling breaths and rattle of the chains. She threw up in the corner then rolled away from the stench. She curled into a ball, wrapping her arms around her knees wishing she could block everything out.
The door opened and a man came in, one she hadn’t heard before. “He’s just now arriving.”
Arabella moved the hair out of her eyes so she could see. Jericho nodded and slipped the knife he’d been using back into his waist holder. “Put him in back in a cell.” And then he left.
On bated breath, Arabella watched them take Grayson down from the chains. He was still alive though he looked barely conscious. Two guards had to hold him up and drag him toward the cell. “Someone get the door, will you?” the one she’d attacked earlier snapped.
They opened the door. “You’re such a pussy.”
Angry, the guard threw Grayson into the cell with her. She pretended she didn’t care and when she saw him lose his balance she didn’t run to help him like she wanted to. No matter how badly it pained her not to. Because they’d just fucked up and they hadn’t realized it yet.
The guard tossed some taunts back and forth as they slammed the cage door closed. They scattered, the one she’d hurt leaving to go get his throat looked at. That left three guards and none of them were paying her any attention. Arabella shuffled across the floor in a hurry. She shoved Grayson’s hair out of his face so she could get a better look. She gasped at all the damage she saw. Not just to his face but everywhere. They’d stripped him too. His skin was fiercely chilled like hers. She wanted to hug their bodies close but he’d been stabbed and cut through the stomach. There was so much wrong with him she didn’t know if she could touch him anywhere without causing intense agony.
“Grayson?” she whispered.
His eyelids didn’t flutter.
“Grayson,” she said louder. This time his eyelids slowly peeled back. His eyes were red, tired, and pinched with pain. It took a minute for his eyes to focus but when they did he looked at her. She smiled. “Hi. Can you hear me fine?”
He swallowed and nodded and she wondered if he could even talk. Don’t cry now. “Great, I need you to do something and if I were you I’d be quick about it before he comes back.”
“What?” he croaked.
“Take my blood.”
He jerked his head. “No. I will get us out of here. He’ll make a mistake soon and I’ll get the jump on him. I promise.”
Here he was lying broken and in agony and he was still trying to protect her. She didn’t know whether to slap him or kiss him. “Listen here, you’re weak as sick kitten, Gray. I need you to just do what I say and do it now while we have time.” She took a breath. “Now bite my fucking neck!”
In a flash his eyes glowed amber like an animal in the night. The deadly speed vampires had honed over thousands of years were put to use when he struck. She jumped. His fangs stabbed deep into her neck, stunning her. But the pain was fleeting. She’d never been bitten by a vampire before, or by anything really. A warm pressure grew at the intrusion sight. The feeling expanded and morphed into something pleasing. She clung to him basking in the new sensations. The bite was almost erotic; it could be in a different situation. His suckling warmed her body which in turn warmed his even through the bitter cold. He groaned as he sucked, her blood giving him life. The spark of arousal flared but stayed beneath the surface.
The door crashed open and Jericho came through. “What the hell are you doing? You put him back in with her!” He was angry, speaking in harsh commands without ever raising his voice.
The guards ran to the cell.
“Drink more!” she urged him. He sucked hard. It reminded her of the few times she’d been given a hickey. She was thrown
off bodily and tossed back against the bars like a ragdoll.
Grayson flew at them in a furry. At the same time, down the hall where they’d come in from, the door flew open. Everyone turned in surprise at the intrusion. No one was more surprised than Arabella.
Kane strolled into the room and swiftly branded two guns. He raised his arms and began firing. One guard went down. Grayson took down another one, snapping his neck with a nasty crunch. Silver bullets blasted through the room so loud it was like explosions. Men screamed and more blood spilled.
Jericho Donato looked completely feral—the mask having slipped off. And his gaze locked on her. Arabella turned to run back into the cell but he caught her by the hair yanking her backward. The last guard fell, his throat gurgling from where his neck had been torn through with a knife Grayson had peeled off another guard.
“What are you doing here, Kane?” Jericho asked, pressing the flat side of the hatchet against her belly. At any moment he could swing that blade and gut her, or, take her head clean off. Just like he did with Anita. And then he’ll be burying me.
No, not today. Not with this psycho. Arabella threw all her weight backward, surprisingly Jericho and tossing him off balance. His grip didn’t waver in her hair but the arm with the hatchet released her. This allowed her to spin around and throw and elbow back as hard as she could. She caught his nose and he howled, dropping her from his grasp completely. The second she was free she sprinted down the hall.
Grayson stood over the last guard, his hands stained with blood. “Get out of here now!”
Kane stood there with his hand held out for her. “I told you I wanted a kiss. I came back for it.”
He pulled his jacket off and handed it to her. She pulled it on then held out her hand. “Give me a gun.”
Heart racing, she watched Grayson and Jericho lock into battle. “Now why would I do that?”
“Because I need it and I’m very thankful right now, enough to maybe kiss you. But I’m asking because I really need it, please.” She asked as kindly as she could. It’d make her father proud.
