Follow Me When the Sun Goes Down (Forged Bloodlines)

by Olsen, Lisa

  “Won’t you please tell me who you are?” he asked in a sing song voice, singeing the strands of hair until there was nothing left in his fingers but the charred ends, curled up on themselves.

  I lost it.

  Does that make me shallow? Volkov burning my hair sent me into more of a panic than when the hot poker touched my flesh. I wept, horrible blubbering sobs as I anticipated the sting of the poker at any second. I’d held it together though the pain of torture for God knew how long, but the smell of my hair burning made it all real in a way it hadn’t been before. Somehow I’d convinced myself that all of it was fleeting. Someone would burst in at any moment and save the day. Someone would rescue me and it’d all be okay. But it didn’t happen. They were going to torture and kill me, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  Instead of pressing his advantage, Volkov retreated, his expression smug at witnessing my tears. “I think it’s time to hit you where it really hurts.”

  I caught my breath as he backed off, my sobs fading as I tried to prepare myself for whatever Volkov had up his sleeve. Most of the pain had faded to a series of dull aches, though my leg was still partially numb. Hopefully I wouldn’t have permanent nerve damage there. Then again, it might be worth living with if it meant I survived the ordeal. Mostly I was just exhausted, drained physically and emotionally, but I took advantage of the break to take heart that he seemed bent on getting me to confess. Maybe if I stuck to my guns he couldn’t actually kill me?

  I looked up when the sound of boots echoed through the hallway outside, both relieved and dismayed to see Bishop marched in, his hands secured with solid bar handcuffs. He rushed forward, earning him a belt across the back of his legs with a baton. Bishop crashed against the stone floor, rising to his knees with a wince.

  “Are you alright?”

  “I’m tougher than I look, remember?” Despite my bravado, the tears started all over again at seeing my condition through the filter of his expression. From the alarm on his face, I must’ve looked terrible. I had to turn away, unable to take the pity I saw there.

  Bishop rose to his feet with quiet dignity. “Look, I already told you Aubrey is lying, she is absolutely Anja Gudrun, daughter of Carys, and you have no right to treat her like this.” He shot me a pointed look and I got his meaning. No matter what, we had to stick to our story. If one of us broke, we’d both be dead.

  Volkov shook his head. “Bishop, you know as well as any, our mandate is clear. We have the right to use any method at our discretion to uphold the law. And I intend to as long as you cling to this farce.” He set the iron poker back into the flame, choosing his next instrument with care. “I’ll ask again… who are you?” He looked directly at me even as he tortured Bishop’s flesh.

  It’ll heal, it’ll heal, it’ll heal… I told myself, trying to ignore the way his breath hitched in pain. To his credit, Bishop didn’t yell once. Maybe a vampire his age was able to take a lot more pain than I was, but the burning hatred in his eyes for Volkov told another story. It went on and on, I couldn’t tell if he was harder on Bishop or not. Until finally, the bastard seemed to tire.

  “I suppose we’ve had enough for today,” he declared finally, tugging off his gloves like he’d hit the eighteenth hole at Presidio. “Perhaps tomorrow you’ll feel like cooperating? Or maybe we’ll have to turn our attention to someone else in your circle of friends? Felix? Or perhaps the Were?” He paused for effect, smiling broadly when I sent him a look of pure, seething hatred.

  If I ever got free…

  “Sleep well, tomorrow night will come sooner than you think.” With a wave of his hand, he had Bishop tossed onto the low bed by the guard, and they both departed, the door locking behind them with a loud clank.

  Bishop didn’t so much as groan once they were there, and I waited a few seconds before I called out to him in the darkened cell. “Bishop? Are you okay?”

  Nothing.

  He had to have passed out. Maybe that was a blessing. His clothes were tattered and burned, just as mine were. What a pair we made. From what I could see, the worst of my wounds had already knit together and with a little blood I probably wouldn’t even scar – provided I somehow survived the ordeal. My hair was a different story. I couldn’t tell much from my position, but a large chunk in the front was gone. Still, it could’ve been worse, I could still feel the comforting weight of it on the back of my neck.

  I wasn’t sure I could fall asleep at first between the hard, uncomfortable chair and the sting of too fresh wounds, but my body shut down when the sun rose high enough in the sky. The last thing I remembered was a fervent wish that Rob had somehow escaped this torture.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I awoke with a start, the thrum of chemical energy artificially zinging through my veins. A rough hand clamped over my mouth when I would’ve cried out, and I bit back a scream until I opened my eyes and saw who it was.

  “Rob!” I breathed, my relief so acute, it sent tears stinging to my eyes.

  “Softly now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he set down the syringe in his hand. “I’m here.”

  “How did you get in here?” Actually, I didn’t care, I just wanted out in the worst way. “Never mind, we have to go before they come back. What time is it?”

  “We’re fine, it’s a few hours before sunset yet. Time enough to leg it, but not everyone in this house is a late sleeper like you, so we’d best get a move on. Mind your hands now, I’ll set you free.” The stims he’d shot me up with made me jittery as anything, but I tried my hardest to hold still long enough for him to unlock the manacles. My wrists were still red and raw, as if I’d been continuing to struggle against the bonds in my sleep. He went to work on my ankles next, stopping to peer at me more intently once the last lock was opened, his mouth going slack.

  “What is it?” I whispered, still rubbing at my wrists.

  “What did they…” he swallowed, unable to continue, his fingers skimming along the bloodstained ruin of my dress. Noting each and every cut and tear where my skin had paid a price far worse than tattered fabric. Shock gave way to anger, and by the time his eyes met mine, I didn’t want him to look at me anymore.

  I turned my head away from his touch when he brushed over the scar on my cheek. It’ll heal, I told myself. Trying to stand, I forgot about the bullet in my knee and putting my full weight on it proved to be a mistake. I sank back down into the chair, biting my lip to keep from crying out.

  “What’s the matter?” Rob demanded.

  “He shot me in the leg.”

  “It doesn’t look bad.” His fingers probed my knee. I gritted my teeth against the pain when he touched it, trying not to jerk it away and cause even more pain.

  “Careful,” I hissed. “The bullet’s still in there.”

  A string of expletives slipped from between his lips, some so convoluted, I couldn’t follow them. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him so angry, it scared me a little, but in the next instant, he locked it all away, standing and offering me a steady hand. “Come on then, I’ll help you out of here.”

  “Wait, what about Bishop?” I glanced over to his unmoving form on the cot.

  “First priority is getting you out, then I can come back for him.”

  “We can’t leave him. They did the same to him and worse to get me to talk. I can’t leave him behind.”

  Rob hesitated, his worry for me etched deeply into his features. “I didn’t bring enough stims for him.”

  I could see him start to calculate whether or not he could pick me up and carry me out of there without me making enough of a ruckus to get caught, and I pulled my hands from his. “We have to try and wake him. He’s not as dead to the world as I am during the day.”

  “Fine.” Rob left me in the chair, shaking Bishop’s shoulder roughly. Bishop gave a low moan, but didn’t stir beyond that. Remembering his quick reflexes plenty of other times during the day, I understood just how much the torture had taken out of him. I
couldn’t blame him for wanting to sleep; without the stims coursing through my body, I couldn’t have moved either, not without fresh blood. I already felt feverish and thirsty, but I didn’t dare say anything to Rob about it or he would’ve opened a vein for me right there and then and we needed him to be at full strength.

  “Oi, wake up.” Rob smacked him across the jaw with an open hand, enough to sting but not really hurt. Bishop’s hands came up, still shackled together, reaching for Rob’s throat in a reflex, but much too slowly. “None of that now,” Rob muttered, easily dodging out of harm’s way. “Last chance to get up, or I’ll leave you, no matter what she says.”

  “Rob?” Bishop’s voice was thick with sleep, but it was music to my ears.

  “Bishop… you have to wake up, we need to get out of here,” I said as loud as I dared to. He sat up groggily, his face twisting with confusion. “Can you uncuff him?”

  Rob shook his head. “Haven’t got a key for those. I can get them off, right enough, but it’ll take more time than I want to spend in here. You’ll have to keep them for now.”

  “Yeah, fine,” Bishop nodded, still trying to clear his head. His shirt hung in tattered ruins, and I could see the smoothly healed skin beneath some of the larger cuts in the cloth, but I knew it had taken quite a toll on him. “What’s the plan?”

  “March out of here and into the world, easy peasey,” Rob winked at me, keeping things light. “Ain’t more than a couple of Weres guarding the property at this hour, and I took care of them.”

  “Wait, what about Gunnar, Bridget, Felix and Tucker? We can’t leave them here, not like this.”

  Rob’s shoulders bunched with tension. “I’ll worry about them next. More important is getting you lot free. Come on then.” He reached out to me, and I stood, keeping the majority of my weight on my good leg.

  “Hold on a sec,” Bishop’s hands came up. “What are we really talking about here? Busting out and then what? The Order’s reach is global. There’s nowhere we can hide from them.”

  “Sez you,” Rob snorted. “I think I’ll take my chances out there, thank you very much. Come on, there’s no time to lose.”

  “I’m with him, come on, Bishop. We can worry about that later, step one is escaping this hellhole.”

  But he didn’t get up.

  “You can’t seriously be thinking about staying,” I gaped at him. “Bishop, they tortured us. How long do you think it’ll be before they kill you?”

  “We’ve already endured the worst of it, I’m sure of that. They can’t kill us without proof we’ve done something wrong.”

  “Tell that to Tommy.”

  Bishop licked his lips. “If we leave it’ll make it look like we’re guilty.”

  “Newsflash… we are guilty,” I hissed. “So get up off your butt and let’s get going before we give them the ammunition they need to put us in the ground.”

  Rob suddenly went very stiff, his eyes staring wide, and I tried to brace his weight as he went slack in my arms, but he slid to the floor thanks to my weakened state. A tiny metal dart stuck out of his neck, and I pulled it out as quickly as I could, but the damage had already been done.

  “You see, I told you we’d learn something new if we allowed her the hope of escape.” Volkov strode into the room, flanked by three other guards this time.

  How could I not have heard them coming? I had to be the worst vampire ever.

  “You’re up nice and early. Let’s not waste that,” Volkov smiled, roughly shoving me back down into my chair, but not bothering to replace the restraints. Two of the guards rushed over to shackle Rob’s legs together, placing him in the bar style cuffs that Bishop wore. Rob was still conscious, but his head listed to one side, eyes half closed as he watched us. “Don’t fall asleep now, you’ll miss the best part.”

  Volkov’s boot lashed out to kick Rob upside the head, and I mashed my lips together to keep from crying out. If they had an inkling of what Rob truly meant to me, it’d give them too much of an advantage over us. Unfortunately, that’s just what Volkov had in mind, and he watched dispassionately as the two Order thugs worked Rob over, giving him a thorough beating. There were no questions, only the sounds of fists and boots against flesh, and the occasional grunt of pain as Rob bore it stoically. I shot Bishop a look and saw he still sat up on the cot, watching the proceedings completely stone-faced.

  “Now that you’re tenderized a bit, we can begin,” Volkov declared after Rob’s condition suited some inner criteria.

  “Begin what? I don’t have anything left to say,” I said, trying to draw his attention away from Rob and back to me, but Volkov wasn’t interested.

  “Oh, but I’m not going to ask you, I’m going to ask your servant. His ties to you must be strong indeed to risk breaking you out.”

  “He had no choice, I’ve compelled him to protect me at all costs,” I bluffed, hoping he didn’t know about Rob’s natural immunity to compulsion. Just because Rob didn’t smell like a normal human didn’t mean Volkov knew who he was or much about his family. Bishop kept absolutely still.

  “We’ll see about that.” Volkov focused intently on Rob, and I hoped like hell he’d be able to hold it together enough to pick up on what I’d said. One eye was nearly swollen shut now, and his breathing seemed labored, like maybe he had a broken rib or two. “You will answer my questions without hesitation and with total honesty, do you understand?” he asked Rob.

  “Understand…” Rob croaked.

  Thank God.

  “Who is this woman?” Volkov gestured in my direction.

  “My mistress.”

  “And her name?”

  “Anja Gudrun.”

  Volkov’s lips twitched, but he moved on. “You must care for her very much to try to attempt such a foolish rescue.”

  Rob gave a half shrug.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “I have to keep her safe at any cost, including my own life,” Rob said, and I knew he was answering that one truthfully at least.

  “Would you lie down and die right now if she asked you to?” Volkov smiled, but Rob shrugged again.

  “She wouldn’t.”

  “And if I said to you, I’d set her free if you traded your life for hers?”

  “You’d be lying.” Rob’s answering laugh turned into a wracking cough that hunched him over painfully, until Volkov kicked him back upright with his boot.

  “Would you give your life for hers? Answer me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Volkov leaned forward, peering at Rob’s battered face.

  “Don’t got no choice.” Rob blinked, his voice sounding confused as if he didn’t fully understand his own response. A perfect performance.

  Volkov seemed to accept it in stride. “Do you have any knowledge that your mistress isn’t who she says she is?”

  “No, who else would she be?” The shrug came again, bringing a pucker to Volkov’s brow.

  “Disappointing, I hoped he’d know more.” I allowed myself a breath of relief at Volkov’s words, but it came too soon as he tapped his lip thoughtfully. “But he may yet prove his usefulness.”

  The rollie cart of pain appeared from the hallway, the instruments of torture all shiny and clean, with a fresh can of Sterno merrily flickering below. Rob didn’t so much as flinch, as Volkov made a big show of deciding what to use first on him, holding up one gleaming instrument after another, but my insides felt like they were about to fly apart.

  I couldn’t use the mantra that it would heal, Rob wasn’t a vampire. True, he might have better healing abilities thanks to his ties to vampire blood, but he couldn’t take nearly as much damage.

  Bishop must have sensed my panic, as he spoke up for the first time. “The guy doesn’t know anything, he’s nothing but muscle I found for her when I had to leave the States.”

  “Then he’ll be easily replaced,” Volkov smiled, picking up a set of heavy knuckles, studded for extra damage.

  I had to keep cool, play
it like I didn’t care one way or the other. Giving the most nonchalant shrug I could manage, I leaned back in my chair. “Do what you want, he’s only been with me for a few months.” Not a lie… “If you break him I’ll just get another.”

  Volkov whirled on me, his face alight with terrible glee. “Now that is the first time I know you’ve lied to me openly. Your reputation precedes you, madam, and it’s well known you’re a champion against cruelty to humans. You could never be so cold to one in your employ. Let’s see what happens when we pick something that’ll leave more of a permanent mark on your friend here.”

  Setting down the knuckles with a clatter, he went right for the hot poker and even Rob tensed, edging away as Volkov crouched before him. “No hair to burn this time,” he considered aloud, shoving at Rob’s head roughly. “Ah well, flesh will do nicely.”

  I wanted to die. I would have traded places with him in a heartbeat, but I didn’t know how to do it without giving up how much Rob meant to me.

  “An excellent example of muscle, I must say.” Volkov tapped the end of the poker against the swell of Rob’s bicep in a brief scorch. “Are you quite certain there’s nothing you want to tell me?”

  I didn’t know if he was talking to Rob or me, but I answered the question. “He doesn’t know anything, I swear. This is a waste of time.”

  “Yes, but it’s my time to waste.” Volkov held the tip of the glowing metal very close to Rob’s face, and I knew intimately what he must be feeling. Only Rob didn’t flinch away this time. He held very, very still, the fast rise and fall of his chest the only thing giving him away.

  “What heart you have, braving all for your mistress.” Volkov smiled, settling back on his haunches. “Let’s give you something to remember this boundless devotion, shall we?” He pressed the searing poker against Rob’s chest, right over his heart, and Rob grunted in pain, every muscle in his body tensing, but he didn’t cry out.