by M. J. Scott
I laughed, I couldn’t help it. “What, you think my father hypnotized me and hid some secret formula in my head?”
Cilla’s face went still and I knew I’d hit home.
“Oh my God. I’m right. Are you crazy? My dad would never do anything like that.”
“Your father was a cautious man, working on a project that would’ve been a major breakthrough in his field. All scientists protect their data.” She tapped the handle of the whip against her thigh, studying me.
“How do you know what my father was working on?”
The whip flicked toward me, its tip whistling past my cheek with a hiss. “I’m asking the questions, not you.”
“You are crazy,” I repeated. “My dad might have encrypted his data or something but I think I’d remember being hypnotized.” My mind whirled as I tried to work out what it was she wanted. It had to be something to do with the anti-vaccine. Something Dad had been researching. But I really had no memory of him ever telling me anything remotely connected to the vamp and were vaccines. Other than insisting we were vaccinated. I definitely didn’t remember being hypnotized.
“It’s possible to remove memories,” Cilla snarled. “And your father wasn’t trustworthy. He lied.”
“No, he didn’t.”
The whip sang again and this time it didn’t miss. My cheek went briefly numb then exploded with pain. Wetness trickled down my face as tears of pain flooded my eyes. The smell of blood told me it wasn’t only tears. My knees buckled, only the vamps’ hands bruising into my arms kept me upright.
“Your father was a liar. And others paid the price for his lies. I will find what he hid.”
“You’ll have to kill me before I’ll tell you anything,” I spat back. The wolf inside me snarled, anger burning away some of the pain.
“Oh, I’m not going to kill you,” Cilla said calmly. “I’m just going to make you wish I would.”
“You’re going to wish you had, if you don’t.”
“Brave words, little puppy.” She considered me coolly for a moment then nodded. “Strip her.”
I exploded upward as they moved toward me, wrenching my arms free of the vamp holding me and using the momentum of the move to spin me and power a blow to the head of the next closest one. An answering blow slammed into my back and I spun again, moving on instinct to punch and kick as four assailants moved against me. But one against four isn’t good odds. Especially when the one is barefoot, half blind from a swollen face and recovering from being drugged. Enough of their blows landed to hurt me. Hurt me a lot and finally a fist to the side of my head made me see stars as I hurtled toward the floor.
Four vamps piled on top of me and by the time I had managed to ride out the pain driving through me in sickening waves, my hands and feet were tied with several layers of rope and leather. They dragged me upright and hung my hands over a hook in one of the walls, so my toes barely scraped the floor.
“That was stupid,” Cilla said as she approached me. She drew a knife out of the sheath and proceeded to cut the clothes from my body. She wasn’t too careful about it either, the blade scoring along my ribs in the process. The burn of silver nearly made me black out. When my vision cleared, Cilla was watching me with the vamps ranged behind her. Hunger shone in their eyes.
“Now, let’s try this again,” Cilla said. She ran the back of her hand along my uncut cheek, touching me just hard enough for the metal of her rings to sting my face like salt water poured on a cut. “You’re going to talk one way or another.”
“I. Don’t. Remember.”
“I know that. So here’s my proposal. I need what’s in your head and you’re going to give it to me. So you can let me thrall you now or the boys and I can hurt you until you’re too weak to resist me. Your choice.”
And after she got whatever it was she was after, I’d be dead. That much was clear. Some choice. The thought of letting Cilla rummage through my head made me want to puke but survival had to be my priority.
“Don’t think too long, puppy,” Cilla said. Her hand slid down my body, her ring lighting little fires under my skin everywhere they touched. She paused when she reached my pubic hair and I twisted away from her. “There’s more than one way to hurt someone,” she said looking pleased. “I could let the boys here fuck you. They like it rough. And we have some lovely silver toys.”
This time, I did retch but apparently there was nothing left in my stomach to come up. God. I wanted to be strong, wanted to tell her to go to hell, but my body overrode my mind, the fear growing and growing until it overwhelmed me. I was shaking now, trembling and ice cold. No one wants to find out they’re a coward. Everyone likes to think they’d be the one to withstand the pain, not give up the information but it’s not so easy when your body is all too familiar with how much it will hurt. The survival instinct runs deep. Deeper than almost everything else.
“I’ll let you see Rhianna, after,” Cilla whispered in my ear. “She’s been asking for you.”
Rhi. How could I have forgotten Rhi? “Will it help her? What you’re looking for?” I hated the way my voice shook, how small it sounded but I had to know.
Cilla smiled, fangs gleaming. “Yes. Yes, I hope it will.”
God. I could save Rhi. If what was in my head meant that she wouldn’t be so dangerous, wouldn’t turn people with a single bite, then she could have a life. And there wouldn’t be any more like her to put human-supernatural relations at risk. It could stop so much pain. Even if it cost me everything.
I opened my eyes. “All right.”
Chapter Sixteen
Cilla crooned in delight, “Good girl.” She pulled the rings from her fingers one by one then pressed her hands to each side of my face. My vision swam again as she bumped the cut on my cheek and she made a soothing noise and bent and pressed her lips to the wound. I shuddered at the touch of her flesh against mine and the ache of my face grew worse.
I blinked back tears as Cilla straightened, her dark eyes huge in her pale face. “Look at me,” she said softly. “Look right here.”
I obeyed, even though every instinct I had screamed not to. But then, just as I felt myself start to fall into the darkness, I heard Ani’s voice in my head. One single word.
Shield.
I couldn’t help it. Suddenly the picture of me bathed in the moon’s glow zapped into life in my head, the white light brightening until it formed a solid sphere around me. This time the mental image wasn’t just me. There was a wolf curled at my feet.
Cilla pulled back with a snarl of frustration. “No wolf tricks now. Stop that.”
I tried to obey but the light refused to dim and the wolf just looked up at me with a doggy grin. I laughed stupidly. “I can’t.”
Cilla’s hand grabbed my chin, fingernails digging into me. “I said stop.” She pulled back and held out a hand. One of the vamps passed her a whip and pain sliced across my stomach as she struck me, once, twice, three times in rapid succession.
The shield didn’t falter.
“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to control the mix of elation and hysteria bubbling through me. “I didn’t mean it.” My stomach burned as the muscle tensed. I didn’t want to look down and see what she’d done to me.
The whip slashed my face again, lighting a line of fire just below the existing cut.
Cilla’s eyes narrowed. “Shields can be broken, puppy. You wouldn’t enjoy it though.” She drew back the whip again.
That didn’t sound good and I tried again to dissolve the image in my head. No good. Another slash, this time the other side. I screamed and tears started pouring from my eyes. The salt water sliding down my face made the pain even worse.
“Cilla!” Smith’s voice snapped through the room.
Cilla turned with a snarl. Smith crossed the room and put a hand on the whip.
“She won’t be able to help if you kill her.”
For some reason Smith intervening made the tears flow harder. I gulped and tried to blink my eyes clear
while the wolf in my head prowled around, lips curled back in a soundless snarl.
Cilla drew back as though she could see the picture as clearly as I could. “Fine. We’ll try this again later. In the meantime, I’ll let the boys here give you some encouragement toward being more cooperative.” She tossed the whip to the nearest vamp and spun on her heels, heading for the door.
As it closed behind her with a slam, Smith started to untie me. I stayed upright until his hand brushed my stomach and then my body finally cooperated by letting me pass out.
When I woke up, I was lying on the floor back in my cell and I hurt.
A lot.
Everywhere.
I swallowed and tried to open my eyes. That hurt too.
“You need to change,” Smith’s voice said from somewhere above me. “I’ve done what I can but you need to change.”
I doubted I could summon the energy. “Can’t,” I mumbled.
“Try,” he said. “Cilla’s losing patience. You need to heal. And you need food. You can eat more as a wolf.”
The thought of food made my stomach cramp. Which was just another sort of pain. Pain that changing might stop. I gritted my teeth, and focused inward. It hurt. Hurt more than the first time I’d changed. Which I didn’t think was right and probably meant I was injured worse than I thought.
But the pain dissipated slowly, leaving me merely aching, and I managed to roll onto my stomach and push myself upward until I was sitting on my haunches. My side burned worst of all and I whined softly, fighting the urge to bend and lick the wound where Cilla had cut me with the silver knife.
“Good,” Smith said.
My hackles rose at the sound of his voice. I looked upward. To wolf eyes, he looked tall—like all humans—but he also looked vulnerable. I knew I could crush his throat with a bite and a growl rumbled through me.
Without blinking, Smith pulled out a gun and aimed it at me. “Silver bullets,” he said calmly. “So don’t do anything stupid, Ms. Keenan.” He nudged something with his foot and I realized there was another smell in the room beside human and antiseptic and fear.
Meat. Steak. And lots of it.
Smith’s foot nudged the tray again and he stepped backward as I walked cautiously forward. The steak smelled divine. It was even cooked, if you want to call rare and still oozing blood, cooked.
My stomach rumbled loudly and I couldn’t stop myself, I devoured the contents of the tray in about one minute flat, gulping down pieces of meat like I hadn’t eaten in days.
Which, for all I knew, I hadn’t.
When I’d finished, I sat back, keeping my eyes on Smith.
“Change back,” he said.
That made sense. Another change meant more healing. And I was far more comfortable dealing with Smith in human form. For one thing, I could talk.
I shimmered back to human form and ended up lying on the floor, breathing heavily. The aches—even the cut along my side—had eased back another few notches in the pain stakes. I was, amazingly, still hungry. I started to stand but Smith lifted his gun and I froze.
Smith tossed me a robe with his free hand and I put it on carefully, trying to avoid my sore spots.
“There are more clothes on the bed when you’re ready,” he said.
I pulled the robe tighter, wincing a little as my side stung. “Happy?” I asked.
“You should have done what she asked you to,” he said, holstering his gun. He looked troubled.
Was he actually feeling sorry for me? It was hard to believe but I didn’t want to waste the chance if he was. “Believe me, I tried,” I said. “Can I ask you something?”
He shrugged.
“What is it you’re looking for?”
“A piece of your father’s research.”
I nodded, I’d worked that much out. I considered Smith for a moment. I doubted he was going to tell me much more but it was worth a try. “Why are you doing this? Helping her? Why would you want to create a vampire that can turn people with a bite? Can’t you see what it will do to us? You’re human. Why would you want to create something that could wipe out your own race?”
“That’s why I need your father’s research,” he said.
“I don’t understand. Why do this at all?”
His mouth twisted.
“Look, Cilla is going to kill me, we both know that. So at least tell me what I’m dying for.”
“I can’t.” Again actual emotion showed in his eyes. This time I could even tell what it was. Pain. And regret. “I owe her.”
Can’t? That could mean won’t. Or it could mean something I hadn’t actually considered before. Smith might just be under Cilla’s control. Just because he walked and talked didn’t mean he hadn’t been thralled. I shook my head. “What could you have done to owe her this much?”
He shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.” He turned and reached for the door handle. “I’ll get them to bring more food. But you should do what Cilla wants.”
“Just tell me,” I yelled as he closed the door.
And maybe he’d forgotten about werewolf hearing, or maybe he didn’t care but before he walked away, I heard him say, “I killed her daughter.”
* * *
Smith’s words were still ringing in my head when they came for me again. He’d killed Cilla’s daughter? How? When? And what did killing a child have to do with creating vampires who were infectious?
None of it made any sense.
The vamps that opened the door to my cell looked disappointed to find me dressed and standing. I was beginning to assign them names in my head. Butch was the blond one who had the good right hook and his darker buddy was the one who liked the whip. I called him Frank. Because it was easier to act tough around a guy called Frank than a vamp with a taste for leather.
Both of them were going to wish they’d never had names at all if I ever got some time alone with them.
“Hello, boys,” I said with more bravado than I felt. “Where’s crazy Cilla?”
“Waiting for you,” Butch said with a sneer. “Come here.”
I walked over obediently. I knew all too well that the two of them could beat me to a pulp and laugh while they did it. I was saving myself for another round of Ashley versus the crazy lady, and trying to figure out a way to get out of that alive.
We made the familiar trek through the hallways and then I was shoved through another doorway.
I’d expected Cilla and she was there. But she wasn’t alone. Rhianna stood beside her, dressed in a floral sundress with her hair tied back in a ponytail. She looked completely normal. I just stared at her for a moment, happiness sweeping through me.
“Rhi,” I said stupidly. “You’re okay.”
Cilla smirked at me and I came back down to earth with a thump. Whatever I was here for, it wasn’t going to be fun.
Rhianna looked pale, her eyes too bright against the lack of color in her face. “Ashley. What are you doing here?” She looked from me to Cilla, frowning.
“Ashley is helping us with our project, dearest. Remember I told you about the project?”
Rhi’s face cleared. “I remember. It will make us all better.”
Fuck. What had Cilla been filling her head with?
“That’s right, so you have to help me, remember what I explained?” Cilla gestured to the vampire holding me. “Bring her over here.”
He pushed me forward then forced me into a seat, strapping my arms down.
Rhi was biting her lip, looking from me to Cilla. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why is she tied up? Ashley’s my friend.”
I smiled at Cilla, figuring she wasn’t about to beat me up in front of Rhi, and then focused on Rhianna. “Rhi, you need to listen to me. Whatever she’s asking you to do, don’t. She’s not a good person. Your parents wouldn’t want you to do this.”
Rhi’s face crumpled and she rubbed her head, as if trying to remember something. “My parents. My parents are dead. Cilla is taking care of me. I’ve be
en sick, you know.”
My heart sank. I don’t know what Cilla and Smith had done to Rhianna but they’d clouded her memory somehow. Or maybe that was the effect of the change. Either way it wasn’t good news for me.
“Your parents are alive,” I said. Cilla stared at me, her expression carefully neutral but fury clear in her eyes. The vamp behind me shifted slightly and I tensed. Cilla’s eyes burned but she didn’t act. She was holding back. Which meant I was right. She wasn’t ready to do anything to me in front of Rhi. Not yet. So Cilla couldn’t be certain she had Rhi completely under control.
Rhi looked from me to Cilla, biting her lip. “My head hurts,” she whispered. “I don’t remember.”
Cilla put an arm around her. “That’s okay, Rhianna. You’re probably just hungry. Why don’t we get you something to eat?” She looked at me, fury turning to triumph. “Nice fresh blood, that’s what you need.”
I swallowed hard as Rhianna’s expression grew avid. She licked her lips. “Fresh?” she said hopefully.
“Oh yes,” Cilla said. “It tastes much nicer than that nasty stuff they gave you in the hospital.”
“They hurt my mouth,” Rhi said. She turned to me, frowning. “Ash, you let them hurt me.”
I gritted my teeth, bit back the instinct to curse Cilla and forced myself to sound calm. “Sweetie, no. We didn’t know you were allergic to the manufactured blood. It was an accident.”
Cilla grinned at me. It was clear she thought she’d won this round. I heard the door open behind me, and footsteps approached from behind. I twisted my body around as far as I could with my arms strapped to the chair. The new vamp had his hand around a chain, leading the man at the other end—though man might be a stretch, the guy looked like he was maybe seventeen or eighteen. He still had that lanky not quite filled out look about him. He wore nothing but black boxer briefs and a dreamy expression.
Like he’d been thralled.
“You can’t do this,” I said as I realized what Cilla was about to do. It was beyond cruel to give Rhianna a taste for feeding from a human. Not when her bite was unsafe. Of course, if they intended for her to kill her prey, that wasn’t such an issue. Nausea burned up my throat. If she killed someone, there was no turning back. Even if I got her out of there, she’d have to live with the consequences. “Rhi, listen to me. Don’t drink from him. It’s not right.”
