Cutting Ties

by C. M. Torrens

  He watched as Angel pulled his son back into his arms to get a bit more sleep before the chaos began again.

  Lazarus stroked the youth’s head. This had to work. It just had to. For all of them.

  30. No One to Save Her

  RIVER WOKE slowly. August’s scent was everywhere and sent shudders down her spine. A hand grabbed her face and jerked her head up. She blinked August into focus, trying to fight the grogginess that was still invading her senses.

  “Your brother is dying. I can take him to one of my physicians right now and have him tended to. Or not.”

  She said nothing, and he released her before stepping away. She was chained to a chair in the middle of an empty room. The floor was concrete with a drain in the middle and a hook hung from the ceiling. River suspected it was a shed or something near his pack house. The floor was stained with blood, and the scent clung to the walls. She was aware enough now that Dante could find her without her needing to hold him, but he was far away. If August tortured and killed her now, there was nothing Dante could do to save her.

  “Nothing to say?”

  She stared at him, uncertain what he wanted from her.

  “He’ll die without proper care, without his alpha. I could always hasten the process.”

  “Don’t,” she whispered.

  “You like seeing him suffer, then? Never would have guessed an innocent like you would be so uncaring.”

  He walked a slow circle around her. His scent made her stomach turn. Like pack but not, as if he’d been tainted by darklings, only this was not like Ricco’s illness. This was something else.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to help your brother. He’s dying, you know.”

  River winced. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to talk to me.”

  She didn’t want to talk to him about anything. Her gaze fell on the hook overhead, and she shivered. “About what?”

  “Dante.”

  River looked away. The chains bit into her wrists, and the unknown made her heart race a bit faster. “I’m not telling you anything.”

  August hummed thoughtfully and circled her again. “I’ve been debating what to do with you. Ripping you from Dante is an interesting thought, but he’s much too strong right now to let you go without a fight. Even now, hundreds of miles away, he fights to protect you and your brother. Not that he can do much from there, but he’s doing what he can. I find that very odd.”

  “Why? Dante’s a good alpha.”

  “Is he?”

  “Yes.” She knew in her heart Dante was a good alpha. He tried so hard to keep everyone safe. She couldn’t imagine anyone else in the whole world working so hard. She was not going to let him try to convince her otherwise.

  “And what do you think is a good alpha? One who wastes energy on the dead, or one who saves his strength for the living?”

  River glared at him. “We aren’t dead yet.”

  “No, you aren’t, but only because of me. And that has nothing to do with Dante.”

  “That’s not true. I think most everything you do has to do with Dante.”

  A flicker of sadness touched his eyes. “Not anymore.”

  She gathered up her courage. She had her own questions. “What are you now? A slave? Do you like being chained like a dog on a leash? You must. You’re still here.”

  His eyes darkened, but it faded quickly. “You really do need to be more inventive with your insults. I’ve heard far worse from others.”

  “Like Caster? Did you like having him close again? Did you have fun being crazed sadists together? Make it feel like old times?” For a moment she thought she’d gone too far. Her heart raced, and she grabbed the armrests of the chair, waiting for what might come. But he just stared at her.

  “That was more inventive, I’ll grant you that,” August said after a moment. “Caster deserved a long and painful death. I really do hope Dante enjoyed killing him. Did he?”

  “I don’t know, but I would have.”

  “So long and painful deaths are good for madmen and pack brothers. Good to know.”

  “Fuck you!” Nicky wasn’t dead, and Dante would find them. She was sure of it. “Caster didn’t die slow. He died in terror, and I hope you do too!”

  He grabbed her face, his claws biting into her cheek and jaw. “Oh, pretty little one, you don’t even know what fear is. But you will. The Mistress wants to see you.”

  River’s mouth went dry, and her stomach cramped. She had heard about this woman and seen what she was capable of. She was a thing of nightmares. A myth come to life.

  August unchained her hands and helped her to her feet.

  His touch made her skin crawl, and she jerked her arm away. “Don’t touch me,” she snapped. “Where’s Lloyd and Nicky?”

  “Somewhere else,” August said and motioned her toward the door.

  She took a hesitant step forward and pushed the door open. She peered outside and found herself in a small clearing surrounded by trees. She could smell his pack but couldn’t see them. She half expected him to drag her along, but he simply led the way. This was his territory, and he would know it like the back of his hand. If he didn’t want her to leave, she wouldn’t be able to.

  A beast moved in the shadows as she followed August down a small path to a cabin. The scent of pack faded as if the area were off-limits, and the beast following them backed off.

  August led her up the porch steps and pushed the door open.

  The cabin was empty. One main room connected the living and kitchen areas, with doors off to one side that were probably bedrooms. Overhead was a small loft. The rich decorations seemed out of place in the rustic setting. Thick gold-and-red curtains hung over the windows, and a silver tea set sat on the kitchen table. The couch was plush, and a fur rug sat between the fireplace and living room furnishings.

  The door closed behind her with a solid click, and her heart jumped.

  August leaned in close. “You smell like fear, little one. That’s good. You should be afraid.”

  She cringed away from him as he smiled and motioned to a door near the back of the cabin.

  She tugged on the collar around her neck keeping her from shifting.

  “Come along,” August said and opened the door for her.

  Stairs led down, and she could just make out a flicker of light from somewhere below. She glanced behind her at the door back out of the cabin.

  “You can try to leave if you like, but I’m being polite. I won’t continue to be if you force my hand. You can’t shift, and you won’t get much beyond this cabin before my people find you,” August said.

  River took a deep breath and forced herself to move, stepping down the stairs and into the basement. The main room was shocking. The floors had been done up with Spanish tile and an arched tunnel on either side of the room went north and south, lit by small faux oil lamps.

  “This way,” August said, leading her down the north tunnel.

  The corridor was narrow, and a heavy steel door stood open at the end of the hall in a choke point. Beyond the door the tunnel branched off in three directions. They went to the right, and it wove around back to the north with several doors. Each door had the odd absent scent of darkling. She couldn’t hear them or see them, but she knew that lack of scent anywhere.

  She shot August an uneasy look, and he smiled at her. “Maybe you aren’t as young as I thought.”

  They finally came to a massive wooden door. August knocked and pushed it open.

  In the middle of the room, sitting on a plush couch, was a very young woman. They looked about the same age, in appearance at least. The woman’s hair was long and dark and fell around her shoulders in shiny locks past her waist. Her face was heart-shaped, with rounded cheeks and big blue eyes. She looked… normal. Cute, even. A petite build gave her the illusion of being harmless, but River was sure that wasn’t the case.

  “Aww, she’s so cute, August. You didn’t tell me she was
cute,” the Nephilim said.

  August smiled at her. “I didn’t think it was her appearance you were interested in, Mistress.”

  “It isn’t, exactly, but it certainly doesn’t hurt,” she said and patted the seat beside her. “Come here, little one. Come talk with me.”

  River moved deeper into the room and took a seat in the chair across from her instead.

  A sheer curtain screened off the small sitting area from the back of the room. Through the semiopaque screen she could see a large bedroom area. Like the corridors, fake candles and lamps, all electric, lit the room. To the right was a door, and to the left, what seemed to be a massive closet that took up the entire wall.

  “What a pretty little thing you are,” Mistress said, smiling at her. “Are you Dante’s mate?”

  River shook her head quickly. “No.”

  “Will you be?”

  She picked at her claws and stared down at the ground. The whole room felt cold and lifeless. “No.”

  “A shame. He’s coming to visit us soon. We’ve been waiting for him for some time.”

  “What do you want with Dante?”

  The darkling smiled, showing her sharp canines. “So many things, but why don’t you tell me what you think of him?”

  “No,” River said, staring hard at the creature.

  Surprise washed over the face. “No?”

  “I’m not telling you anything.” River said, but her voice sounded weak even to her own ears, and fear made her skin prickle.

  The smile disappeared from the darkling’s face, and her eyes turned cold and hard. “But we’ve been so nice. And your pack brother is in such serious condition. Being nice would be in his best interest, don’t you think?”

  River hesitated. “You’ll help him if I answer your questions?”

  “I thought August made that clear earlier.” She patted the couch beside her. “Come sit here.”

  River glanced at August, but his face was blank.

  “Come sit here, or I will have August rip the heart out of your precious little pack brother and bring it to you,” the darkling said with a cheery little smile.

  River felt her stomach twist, and she forced herself to her feet and sat down beside her.

  “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she asked. “August, dear. Bring a doctor to her brother for me, please. River and I are going to have a nice talk while you’re away. Aren’t we, dear?”

  River fought the shudder of fear that ran down her spine. The door closed behind August, leaving them alone. Her fear only grew as the darkling scooted closer to her, and she felt Dante’s sense race over hers.

  She chuckled and leaned in very close. “Oh no, my dear. Dante can’t help you here. He’s much too far away.”

  The darkling reached out and stroked her cheek, and she gasped as she felt the sense of Dante begin to fade.

  “Don’t, please,” River gasped, cringing away. Being so close to the darkling turned her stomach, and she fought to keep her grasp on Dante. Her whole body began to tremble with the effort, but it was a losing battle.

  She cried out, grasping again for Dante, and lashed out with her claws before scrambling away from the darkling to the far side of the room. She grabbed for the door, but it was locked.

  The darkling hissed and touched the claw marks on her face. River watched in horror as the scratches began to close and heal right before her eyes. She pressed her back to the door as the darkling got to her feet. She had never seen anyone heal so quickly. Not darkling or Pack; it was unnatural.

  Her eyes went black, and all emotion evaporated from her face. “We were playing nice. I think we won’t play nice anymore.”

  AUGUST HEARD River’s scream as he closed and bolted the heavy steel door that led to his mistress and the other darklings. He fought to keep his emotions from surfacing, to keep his mind blank and free of any destructive thoughts, but it was growing more and more difficult as time passed. He pressed his head to the cold steel and took several deep breaths to clear it.

  “Alpha?” a voice called behind him.

  He glanced behind him at Jax. The hybrid was the newest among the breed. Far more intelligent and aware than the others. He made a natural leader and was working out well.

  “Yes, Jax. What is it? You know you aren’t supposed to be down here.”

  “Yes, Alpha, but we are having a problem with some of the other hybrids trying to get into the holding cells with the stray and the pack male. The hybrids are keyed to kill the pack. They keep wanting to open the doors to… play with the dying one. I can only do so much without ending up having to kill many as an example. Unless you’ve changed your mind about sparing him, then I will just let them do as they wish.”

  “No. The dying pack one goes to the medical room. The stray… I haven’t decided yet,” August said and looked him over a long moment. “Would you like the stray?”

  Jax blinked with surprise. “Alpha?”

  “You’ve done very well for me, Jax. You’ve brought me these two special Pack without killing them first. I’m proud of you. You should have a gift. The stray is yours. Collar him and take him to your chamber. Remember to feed your dog regularly, or it will die. And remember, Jax, it is yours. Like all animals, they must be taught what that means.”

  Jax’s face grew torn between surprise and pleasure. “I… I will do just that, Alpha. Thank you for the gift.”

  “You’re very welcome. Keep up the good work.”

  31. Jax’s Gift

  JAX WASN’T exactly sure what to do with the gift his alpha had given him. He sent the wounded pack to medical, collared his prize, and took it to his room. He was one of the few hybrids trusted enough to have his own room off the barracks behind the pack house. He was called Prime among the hybrids because of this, and the alphas trusted him.

  He took the stray by his chain and attached him to a bolt in the floor on the far side of the room. The stray glared at him. “What are you going to do with me?” the stray asked, tugging on the chain and bolt.

  Jax had learned his lesson from the van. The bolt was new and went through the wood of the main beam. The chain was new and greased and attached to his heavy steel collar with a padlock.

  “My alpha gave you to me,” Jax said, staring at him.

  “You can’t give people to other people,” the stray said.

  “He gave you to me. Alpha can do as he wishes. I can do whatever I wish with you. He said so. I could take you to the feeding, if I want.”

  The stray looked uneasy, suddenly. “What does that mean?”

  “It means what it means,” Jax said with a shrug. He glanced around the room and took a pillow from his bed and tossed it to the floor beside the stray.

  There was a scream outside, and Jax went to the window. Prime Charleston had gotten a gift from the alpha some weeks ago and enjoyed taking it out to his men on a regular basis to show it off. Tonight was one of those nights. Charleston had his gift by the collar and was poking it with a sharp stick to make it walk beside the bonfire. He laughed happily as he shoved the gift into the fire and listened to it scream and scramble back out again. The first time he did that, it was dressed and had long hair. Both went up in flames. Jax wasn’t sure how it survived, but it did.

  “What the fuck?” the stray asked beside him.

  “That is Charleston with his gift. He likes to do that every week or so. To show he is favored by the alphas.”

  “Are you going to throw me in the fire next?” the stray asked.

  “No. I am not Charleston. I am Jax.”

  “And what does that mean, exactly.”

  “It means I will not throw you in the fire for amusement. I will just kill you or take you to the feeding room if you upset me.”

  “Good to know,” the stray said softly and thankfully went quiet.

  Jax pulled away from the window and started to leave. If he was hungry, his gift probably was too, and his alpha had reminded him specifically to feed his gift. “I
will bring food.”

  Jax left, went to the kitchen, and grabbed two trays of food before returning to his room and gift. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched him a long moment. Jax was sure he hadn’t eaten in over a day. The way he was staring at the food said more than he was trying to let on. He was a nice-looking male, powerful and strong, broad-chested and healthy. He was scarred from old battles and dusty and dirty from the long past few days.

  “You want food?”

  The stray hesitated but gave a curt nod.

  “Good. I wash you first,” Jax said and got to his feet. He went to the room next door, filled a bucket with soap and water, and brought it back to his room.

  The stray watched him carefully. “I can wash myself just fine.”

  “You want food?”

  The stray glared at him but said nothing. Jax moved in close, testing the wild one’s reaction. “You kill me, they will give you to the hybrids to play with. Did you see how they play?”

  They had been playing after the alpha subdued the female from the van. It took Jax a firm hand to keep them from the stray and the wounded pack when they got their blood up. The unfortunate strays who were caught by them didn’t last long, but they ate what was left when they were finished.

  The stray nodded.

  “Being toy would not be good for you. They never last long. You can last long here,” Jax said and reached out with a wet cloth to scrub some of the dirt off the stray’s chest and back. He held very still, and Jax watched as the water ran in small rivers down his broad shoulders and the firm cheeks of his ass. His skin prickled with chill, and Jax reached out to touch his skin. The stray flinched as a clawed finger touched his back. Jax pulled away quickly and handed the cloth to him. “Finish,” he said and went to fetch their trays.

  Jax stared down at his hand a long moment and winced. There was a time when he wasn’t like this. When he was something else. He could almost remember. The lost memory sometimes called to him, but he wasn’t that anymore.