by N M Thorn
Damian slapped him slightly on his cheek, but the vampire remained motionless. Dammit, they tortured and starved him. A thought flashed in his mind, and he looked around, searching for something sharp. Noticing a few empty glass jars on the floor next to the cross, he grabbed one of them and smashed it against the floor.
Holding a sharp piece of glass, he raised it over his forearm, ready to slice it, when the door into the bathroom opened up with a loud bang.
Damian flinched and leaned forward, instinctively shielding his brother with his own body. But before he could turn around, a loud voice behind him commanded, “Slowly, put down the glass and put your hands behind your head.” Damian made a move to turn around, but the voice stopped him in his tracks. “Do it now! Hands behind your head!”
With shivers running down his back, Damian lowered the piece of glass to the floor and placed his hands behind his head, interlocking his fingers. “Whatever you think I did, I didn’t do it, sir,” he said, holding his position.
Two pairs of hands seized his arms, twisting his hands behind his back. As the metal of the handcuffs bit into his skin, Damian grunted, clenching his teeth. They hauled him to his feet, forcing him to step back. Two policemen approached his brother, checking his vitals, and Damian cringed inwardly, realizing that to them he appeared to be dead—no pulse, icy-cold skin, no breath. And if that wasn’t enough, there were two dead people in the other room.
Triple homicide... Dammit, where is Mrs. Davidson?
“He’s alive,” he said to the policemen who were checking the vampire. “And I didn’t do any of this. Please, ask the owner of the hotel. She can confirm that I just opened the door into the room a few minutes ago and found everything the way you see it.”
“We’ll figure it out,” said another deep male voice behind him. “In the meantime, read him his rights and take him away.”
Damian winced and turned around as he recognized the voice. “Jesse... um... Detective Williams, please, let me—,” started Damian but cut himself off, realizing that with River’s partner running the show, he was doomed to spend at least twenty-four hours in jail.
A crooked smirk distorted Jesse’s lips, and he huffed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. “Not so high and mighty now, are you?” Then he jerked his chin at Damian and commanded, “Get this ogre out of here.”
Throwing a glance at his brother, Damian noticed that he moved, slowly regaining consciousness. If only he could wait another few minutes, Nikolai could confirm his innocence.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right...” The voice of a policeman melted into the disarray of thoughts in his mind as they led him through the room and out the door.
Damian went through the booking procedure barely realizing what he was doing, answering all the questions like on autopilot. A stampede of wild thoughts swirled in his mind, and he couldn’t focus on anything. Recording his information, taking mugshot and fingerprints weren’t a problem for him. But when the time came to take his clothes off for the strip search procedure, he stiffened, realizing what the examiner would see as soon as he checked him.
“What on earth...?” exhaled an older man in police uniform, staring at his back. “I’ve never seen anything...” He walked around and halted in front of Damian, staring up at him, his eyes widened with horror. “All this scar tissue on your back and legs... How did you receive all these injuries? Who did this to you?”
“Is this question a part of the booking procedure, sir?” Feeling exposed and vulnerable, Damian averted his gaze, his voice a strained whisper as he put all his effort into keeping his power under control.
The officer looked up at him and shook his head. “No,” he replied, tones of sympathy and remorse in his voice, “sorry, I couldn’t help it. You can get dressed now.”
Damian barely registered the rest of the booking process. When he was escorted to the holding cell, he stopped in the middle of the room and turned around, observing the tiny space he was confined to. With his wide shoulders and his height, he felt like the walls were closing in on him. A deep shudder ran through him, and he staggered backward until his back hit the wall. He slid down to the floor and pulled his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms around his head.
He wasn’t sure if it was just him being uncomfortable with small spaces or if it was his connection with the element of Earth that gave him this semblance of claustrophobia. Even riding in modern cars alone made him anxious, and right now, he could barely control his nerves and his power that was connected to his emotions.
A gust of cold air rushed through the cell, and Damian lifted his head, wondering if it was an air conditioner or something entirely different. As he looked around, his vision blurred, cold wrapping around him, freezing him from the inside. He blinked a few times, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, shivering violently. When he could see again, his surroundings had changed.
He sat on the rough floor of a tiny cell, completely immobilized by the size of it. The room was so small he could only sit in the same position with his legs bent and his head bowed low. Even with his head down, he was still touching the ceiling, and his shoulders touched the walls on either side. The cell was semi-dark and smelled musty. A narrow ray of light broke through the little window covered by iron lattice, reflecting from wide metallic cuffs on his bound hands.
Damian stared at the cuffs and shuddered, his heart beating heavily against his ribcage. “No,” he hissed, cold sweat running down his face. “It can’t be... I’m done with all that. I paid—”
He wasn’t sure how long he spent in this tiny, dark hole. His limbs had gone numb by the time the door into his cell opened and someone grabbed his arm, pulling him out. With his mind on fire, he resisted, but to no avail. A moment later, he found himself on all fours in a long, well-lit hallway. Right before his face, there was a pair of well-polished white shoes. Slowly, he lifted his face and saw a tall man dressed all in white standing in front of him.
“No,” moaned Damian. “It can’t be. It’s some kind of illusion. I’m done with all of you. We had an agreement.”
The man chuckled gently. “What are you talking about, child?” he asked, leaning forward a little. “Don’t you remember what happened to you? You died defending Prince Vladimir. An honorable death of a warrior, I must say. Just a moment ago.” He thought for a moment and added with a half-shrug. “Well, technically, you didn’t die. Your power makes you immortal. So, yes, we had no choice but to remove you from the battlefield and bring you here.”
Damian gaped at him just now realizing it wasn’t an illusion. It was a memory. He was reliving one of the most painful memories of his life, and he remembered everything as if it happened just yesterday.
“Sorry about the cuffs.” The man sighed, helping him to his feet. “Just before you were killed, your power activated. Unfortunately, these cuffs are the only thing that keeps your power from running wild, destroying this wonderful building.” He waved his hand around, leading him through the long, white hallway. “I’m too fond of this place. It has a sentimental value, you know? So, let’s keep it intact, shall we?”
He stopped in front of a tall white door and opened it, allowing Damian to walk in first. At that time, everything he saw in this place looked strange to him—the unusual furniture, the way this man was dressed and the way he spoke. The man crossed the room and sat down in one of the large, soft armchairs, gesturing for Damian to take a seat.
“I’m prepared to make you an offer, and something tells me, you won’t refuse it, my child,” said the man, watching as Damian took a seat.
I’m not a child... I wasn’t then, and I am definitely not now. I should have told him to take this offer and shove it...
“You have a remarkable power, boy. You don’t know it yet, but the elemental beings of Earth are quite rare. So, we are the only people who can teach you how to control and use your elemen
t and your magic,” continued the man, his unyielding glowing eyes drilling through Damian’s chest. “Once you’re ready, you’ll join our team, fighting on the side of Light to keep the realm of humans safe and to protect the World of Magic from exposure. Should you accept my offer, we won’t just teach you how to use your power, we’ll enhance and magnify it ten-fold making you one of the most powerful beings of magic. So, what do you say, boy?”
A cold shiver ran down Damian’s spine as he recalled how this man had made him feel at the time. Lost and confused, he could barely understand what he was saying. Magic? Elemental powers? All that made no sense to him, but he remembered what he asked next.
“How about my brother? Is he here too?”
“I’m truly sorry, child,” replied the man, a shadow of sadness darkening his glowing eyes. “Unfortunately, we were too late to save Nikolai. He was lost to us.”
The pain of loss constricted his chest, and he struggled to breathe, gasping in short, uneven breaths. His little brother was his world. Except for Nikolai, he had no one in his life, and he had sworn to his mother on her deathbed that he would die before he would let anything happen to him. Now, his brother was dead... He failed...
“Say yes, child,” continued the man, his voice kind and insinuating. “Say yes, and I swear, we will help you avenge your brother.”
Damian raised his bloodshot eyes at him. He knew it was just a memory and there was nothing he could do to change it.
“Yes...” A soft whisper escaped his lips, setting his destiny in motion forever.
A loud banging sound invaded his ears, and the room spun around him, disappearing into a sickening swirling blizzard. He closed his eyes and allowed the rotating darkness to swallow him.
When he opened his eyes, he was back in the holding cell, lying flat on the icy concrete floor. The banging didn’t stop, and someone’s voice was screaming something, but he couldn’t understand the meaning, his mind still trapped somewhere between his past and present. He pushed himself up with a low groan, scrambling into a sitting position.
Nikolai is alive. That was his first thought as he stared at the jail guard banging at the bars of his cell with his baton. The second thought was more troubling. What if they took him to a hospital? A thirsty vampire who was tortured for God knows how long? Heaven and Earth, I hope not... I need to get out of here...
“Blake. Damian Blake!” shouted the guard.
“Yes, sir,” Damian managed to say. Still feeling unsteady, he got up to his feet and approached the bars, wondering what could have triggered this old memory in such a vivid detail.
“Turn around, hands behind your back,” the guard ordered, a pair of handcuffs dangling from his finger.
Damian turned around and crossed his hands behind his back, allowing the guard to restrain him.
“Let’s go,” said the guard unlocking the cell. “Detective Williams wants to have a word with you.” His eyes moved up and down, taking in Damian’s height, and he smirked. “I see why he said to take special care while handling you.”
Damian shrugged indifferently and followed the guard into an interrogation room. He walked inside a small room with a table, three chairs and a one-way mirror that took most of the space on one of the walls. Sitting down on a bolted chair, he patiently waited while the guard removed his restraints just to secure his right arm to a cuff bar. As soon as the guard was gone, he folded his arms on the table and rested his forehead atop his folded arms.
Even with all the security camera and handcuffs, he could easily escape using his magic. However, since exposing the World of Magic to humans wasn’t a good idea and living his life as a fugitive wasn’t in his plans either, he decided against it. Besides, he wanted to wait and see what Detective Williams had in mind, still believing Jesse had some kind of hidden role in everything that was going on in Blue Creek and in the mystery surrounding Paradise Manor.
Detective Williams wasn’t in a rush, and Damian wasn’t sure how long he spent in the freezing interrogation room alone. From the moment the guard brought him in, he didn’t move and didn’t change his position. He felt exhausted, and his mind was drifting on and off, lingering on the border between a dream state and the strange reality he lived in. When the door into the room opened up and Jesse walked in, he felt almost relieved, hoping to get at least some answers to all the questions swirling in his head.
Jesse didn’t sit down, but instead, walked to the security camera and turned it off manually. Damian stifled a sigh, knowing perfectly well that this meant nothing good to him.
“Damian Blake,” said Jesse, his lips distorting into a snarl as he made his way to the table and sat down. “Your records are so clean, it’s almost unreal for a man like you. Not so much as a parking ticket came up.”
“You can’t get a parking ticket if you don’t own a car,” muttered Damian with a half-shrug.
Ignoring him, Jesse threw a folder on the table and opened it, pulling a piece of paper out of it. He put the paper on the table and took a pen out of his inside pocket as if ready to write something, but then changed his mind and placed the pen back down. “Who are you, Blake, and what are you doing in my town?”
Damian raised his eyes, meeting the dark gaze of the detective without blinking. “I’m no one,” he replied calmly. “I’m in your town”—he stressed the word ‘your’ unable to hide his sarcasm—“because I work for Sam Vetrov. He can confirm my statement.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you’re some kind of trained killing machine who works as a handyman?” Jesse laughed coldly. “This makes total sense. Who do you think I am, asshole?”
Damian’s lips curled up in an uneven smirk before he could stop it, eliciting a growl of anger out of Jesse. The detective jumped to his feet and walked around the table. Seizing the longer strand of his hair on the front, he yanked Damian’s head backward exposing his face.
“Don’t presume for one second that you can lie to me, Blake,” he growled, fury contorting his face. “I remember the way you disarmed me. You didn’t even blink. Your body functioned on its own. Call it instinct, muscle memory, natural reaction. Call it whatever the hell you want. I know one thing, though—it takes years of vigorous training to achieve this level of expertise in any style of martial arts. So, let me repeat my question, douchebag. Who are you?”
“No one,” repeated Damian, doing his best to stay calm. “I’m also not the person who killed the young couple in the hotel. You’re wasting your time with me instead of searching for the real killer.”
A low growl sounded in Jesse’s throat as he pulled Damian’s head farther back and ran his thumb over the scar on his face, cutting into his skin with his fingernail.
“I will get the truth out of you, or so help me God, I will make your ugly face look symmetrical,” he growled through gritted teeth, anger permeating the air around him.
Damian jerked his head, ignoring the pain as he left a strand of his hair in Jesse’s hand. Squeezing his fists, he pulled against his restraints, doing all he could to keep his power under control as fury boiled up in him. Despite his efforts, the floor quaked a little, and the pen rolled off the table, falling to the floor with a soft thud.
Jesse seized Damian’s neck, forcing his head up, and then raised his right hand, his fingers clenched into a tight fist. Damian dropped his left arm and remained still, taking deep breaths as he stared straight up at the infuriated detective. He couldn’t allow himself to react. He couldn’t lose control of his power.
“Well, hello, Detective,” a deep but soft voice filled with mockery sounded on his left. “I do admire your interrogation technique.”
Jesse let go of Damian and staggered back, looking in the direction of the entrance. Damian turned his head and held his breath. Accompanied by detective River Evans, his brother stood in the doorway. He looked absolutely normal as if he hadn’t been tied up with silver to a cross just a few hours ago. Dressed in an immaculate business suit and tie, he stood tall wit
h his left hand in the pocket of his pants, his blue eyes blazing with silent anger. Damian’s mouth opened, but his brother frowned giving him a barely visible shake of his head, and he snapped his mouth shut.
Nikolai took a step forward, offering his hand to Jesse with a perfect smile that left his eyes icy-cold.
“Allow me to introduce myself, Detective,” he said, his voice perfectly leveled and calm. “Cole Adams.” His fingers wrapped around Jesse’s hand, and the detective paled as the vampire squeezed it a little stronger than etiquette required. “I’m here to testify on behalf of the man who saved my life.” His frosty smile grew wider as he finally let go of Jesse’s hand and pointed at Damian.
River approached Damian and unlocked the handcuffs, setting him free. “Mr. Blake, please accept my apologies. You’re free to go.” She threw an angry glance at Jesse and switched her attention back to Damian. “I hope our agreement still stands?”
He got up, rubbing his wrist where the handcuff bit into it, skinning it to blood. “Of course, ma’am. It’s not your fault that your partner is a self-important asshole,” he replied with surprise noticing how hoarse his voice was. “I have to go back to the hotel room and take care of a few things. I’ll see you tonight just as we agreed.”
Keeping his eyes down, he headed toward the exit, barely able to take a breath. All he wanted was to spend a few minutes with his brother, to speak with him, to make sure it was really him, his mind still refusing to process the reality. But Nikolai, or Cole Adams rather, made it clear—he didn’t want to disclose the fact that they knew each other. At least not yet.
As he reached the exit, Cole seized his elbow, stopping him.
“Detective Williams,” the vampire said, his voice coming out like a dangerous purr of a large feline. “Is there anything I need to sign?”
