She wanted to live. And to live, she’d surrender the one thing that had always irritated him to no end.
Her pride.
The suction of her lips on his wrist made his dick hard. The hungry sounds she made—fuck, he would have her make them when he used her body, when he made her writhe in pleasure and cry with pain.
Only, there was something he wanted more than either her pleasure or her pain. More than he wanted her surrender. This obsession he had with her wouldn’t release him. If she’d died, he would have mourned and he’d never regretted losing anyone in his life. Which was to be expected.
He’d never loved anyone before.
Teaching her to love him in return would be entertaining. If the lessons didn’t kill her first.
Not enough. He wouldn’t let me have enough. My veins burned, the fresh flow of blood like salt on an open wound. My whole body was an open wound. Even my eyes…darkness had held me for so long I was certain I’d gone blind. And sleep didn’t renew me. I woke to more pain, and not pain caused by Cyrus.
I’d known when I traded myself for Daederich’s son that I’d suffer for my sacrifice. The choice was easy.
Living with it wasn’t.
Begging would have spared me a little, but…I couldn’t do it.
Whenever I had a moment alone, I would see Daederich’s face. Hear his voice. He would tell me to keep fighting. By now, Alrik must be somewhere safe. Daederich would come for me. He’d never stop until he found me.
But I was dying. Hunger alone wouldn’t kill me, but the sun, the sun could destroy me. The answer shouldn’t have been difficult.
Beg, cry, scream. Give him what he wants! A small voice in my head had told me to do it all.
No!
No…until I’d inhaled the rank scent of my own burning flesh. Until agony had me reacting on instinct alone.
Speech was impossible, but I knew Cyrus would take any sign that I had given in. I couldn’t do it right away. I’d been hardwired from a young age to fight no matter what the odds. Death before dishonor. Pretty words. Words I’d lived by once. Except, I didn’t remember the person I’d been. I’d given up ever retrieving those memories to survive. Survival had become more important than whatever I’d been raised to believe in.
I’d struggled to get close to the door. Scalding pain slithered up my legs, flaming leeches eating away at my flesh. I broke my brittle nails on the wood, making the only sound I could. A pathetic sound I knew he’d enjoy.
And with this, I lived. I wasn’t damned, no matter what my father believed. No matter that he would try to kill me if we ever met again. I’d found a new cause, a mission I would fulfill or die trying.
Destroy Cyrus. I couldn’t let him ruin more lives, couldn’t let him torture and rape and create more monsters like us. And yes, I knew I was a monster, but as a human, I hadn’t stood a chance at taking him down.
I couldn’t as his captive either, but I would bide my time. Regain my strength, get him to let his guard down. Then—
He tore his wrist from my lips, ripping his own flesh on my fangs before cracking me in the face with the back of his hand. “No! Your thoughts are mine, you stupid girl. I should throw you out the fucking window and let the sun have you.” He rolled off the bed, licking the wound on his wrist as it began to heal. He shook his head, pacing, watching me warily, likely trying to understand me. “When one takes a wild animal as a pet, they never let their guard down.”
My muscles thickened with the flow of blood, no longer coarse ropes under my skin. I could see again. I could speak. And I knew I had to be very very careful. “I’m sorry.”
“You will be.” He wrapped one hand around my throat, glaring down at me. The way he smiled chilled my blood. A small relief from the scalding sensation. I shivered, dropped from a boiling pot into an arctic lake. His knees pried my thighs apart. “This is nothing. I would have waited for you to beg for this as well, but I won’t deny myself.”
He lowered his hand to undo his pants. His dick was hot against my cold flesh. He shoved hard, but I was too dry. Not that it had ever been an issue for him before.
With a soft, lion’s purr, he rested his body over mine. “I could make you wet with my spit, like he did. Show you how much I care to make this easy for you.” He kissed my cheek, not pressing harder, even though I braced for the rough penetration. His unbound black hair caressed my skin, so damn soft. I could almost see the man the monster hid within as he whispered in my ear. “I understand now why he chose you. You were worth saving.”
I shouldn’t react. I knew I shouldn’t. But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t let myself forget who he was. Not for one damn second. “He didn’t choose me. You did.”
“Is that what he led you to believe?” His tone was quiet, yet dripping with amusement. He looked young and charming with that crooked smile on his lips. “I had many beautiful women for him to play with. He was my stud, the man all those rich bitches paid to see perform. Do you really think I would put him in the arena with someone who couldn’t get him hard?” He pressed soft kisses on my throat. “He was mine for a long time, Lydia. Playing with him was fun, but I’m a businessman. Pleasing my audience kept the seats filled. He knew that’s why he lived. Because he brought in the crowds. We all do what we must to survive.”
Thinking of Daederich picking me out to fuck on that dirt floor in front of a crowd…I didn’t want to believe Cyrus, but what he’d said made sense. And didn’t make me love my man any less. My man, who looked every inch the brutal killer, but held his son tenderly and kissed me with love in his eyes. He could be utterly ruthless, but he’d give his life for mine. Despite what we’d become, I knew Daederich still had his soul. I found it difficult to believe Cyrus had one to begin with.
Cyrus may have forced us both to do horrible things so we could live another day, but that changed nothing. I knew where my heart belonged.
“Are you thinking of Daederich now? I suppose it would be more pleasant for us both if you closed your eyes and pretended I was him.” He laughed and pressed his lips to my cheek, whispering in my ear. “What was it he said to you? Try to relax? Let me save your life?”
Too close to the words Daederich had spoken. Cyrus must have heard him. He was toying with me, but I couldn’t stop myself from pressing my eyes shut and hearing the man I loved. Not only then, but so many times after. Telling me to be strong. Forcing me to keep going, because if I gave up, he would kill me himself rather than allow me needless suffering.
He’d be disgusted if he saw the condition of me now. So close to broken I’d probably be too weak to run if given the chance. Surrendering to Cyrus in any way felt so wrong, but begging had gotten me the blood I needed to survive. There was no way I could stop him from taking whatever he wanted from me. He would rape me. Torture me. But every reprieve I had would give me time to heal.
I let myself relax and Daederich’s face came through the darkness. His voice as he overpowered me, chuckling as I struggled with no true desire to break free. There would be bruises on my wrists from his grip, but I welcomed the pain. It reminded me that he would never let me go.
A deep thrust and the image shattered. My body knew Daederich’s and this wasn’t him. Cyrus’s groan had me dropping my head to the side, tears wetting my cheeks as he slammed in over and over. A scream caught in my throat as he lifted my breast to his mouth, sucking my nipples before biting down on the sensitive flesh.
Nothing I couldn’t take. Cyrus had thrown me off by briefly letting me lose myself to my memories, but I wouldn’t make that mistake again. I forced my eyes to meet his with calm acceptance.
He lifted one hand to my cheek and smiled. “You’ve rejected my gift, but this is better. You’re so fucking wet. You haven’t told me to stop.”
“There’s no point. You won’t.” Keeping my mouth shut would be smarter, but my sanity depended on putting up a wall between us. One where I could hide the fragile parts of myself he’d love to toy with. “You have
my body, but—”
“I’ll have everything, pet.” He pressed in deeper and circled his hips, his smile never fading. “You will enjoy this. Do you really believe I’d be so selfish? Simply take my pleasure and leave you wanting? No. We will continue for as long as it takes.”
God…no. Please… Nothing else he’d done or said had been this horrible. The slow drag of his dick inside me could be tolerated, but only because I expected it to end when he got bored. This new game wouldn’t bore him. He would fuck me endlessly, immortal strength keeping him going until I gave him what he wanted. And to get him off me, I’d willingly do so, only it wasn’t that simple. I doubted any woman could make herself come like this. My body had betrayed me before, but the choice had been taken away then.
Cyrus wasn’t doing anything to manipulate me to react to him. He had given me a way, then taken it from me. His every deep thrust hurt. His body on mine, slick with sweat, disgusted me. I could no sooner come while he was fucking me than I could masturbating in a pit full of rotting bodies.
“That can be arranged, my dear.” Cyrus pushed away from me and flipped me over, jerking me up to my hands and knees. He pressed in so gradually I felt myself stretch around every inch of him. Flush against my body, he held still. “I gave up so much for you. You haunted me after you left me. When I slept, I dreamed of you.” He kissed the nape of my neck, bringing his hand between my thighs to play with my clit. I gritted my teeth even as I surrendered to the spark of arousal. “I found women who looked like you. I tore them apart because they failed me.” He pressed his thumb down on my clit and rocked his hips. “They couldn’t make me forget what you could give me. What you will.”
He’s lost his damn mind. Not that he’d been sane to begin with, but there had been some logic to his cruelty. Money. Power. Even pure sadistic desire made some kind of sense. But this could be a good thing. If his control slipped it might give me the opportunity I needed to escape. I knew he was obsessed with me. He wanted to own every part of me. He’d said as much.
Let him believe he did. I fell forward onto my elbows even as he slammed against me, shoving my thoughts behind a wall I prayed would hold against him. He put a hand on my hip, his fingers still toying with my clit, and drove in faster. Harder.
I tightened around him, picturing Daederich coming into the room with a knife in his hand, moving silently until he could slash the blade across Cyrus’ throat. As the heat spread deep within I could almost feel Cyrus’ blood spilling over me.
Crying out, my hips bucked and I clenched my fists in the blankets, coming so hard the pleasure stole the last of my strength. His fingers dug into my flesh as he dropped down on top of me. Breathing hard, he fell to his side and pulled me into his arms.
“Much better.” He kissed my cheek, gently trailing his fingers through my hair. “You will sleep here today. And when you wake I’ll bathe you and find you something pretty to wear. You deserve the very best. Silks and sweet words and…” He rose from the bed and shook his head. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Better will come. But we are off to a good start.”
I rested my head on the pillow, not seeing any reason to question his change of heart. Let him keep me close. Ending him would be that much easier.
Fucking Lydia had been…pleasant. Cyrus settled down in his office with a tumbler of whiskey, idly watching the ice float around the glass. There were many ways he could have made taking her satisfying, but the purpose hadn’t been to get off. If that was all he wanted, he could fuck any bitch he found on the street. Drag out any number of captives he had access to.
They weren’t enough and owning Lydia would be a challenge. He’d tested her reactions to cruelty and kindness, curious to see how far he could push her in either direction. Both could be effective, but not yet.
Because what stood in his way was still beyond reach.
So long as she had hope, there would always be a part she kept tucked away, a part he couldn’t touch. She wanted to kill him, but if she believed she could alone, she would have tried already. No, Lydia was smart enough to wait for reinforcements. She would conserve her strength until Daederich arrived, clinging to the idea of Cyrus dying by their hands.
But what would she do if he took that hope away? If she had to accept that she belonged to him until he tired of her and chose to set her free?
There was only one way to find out.
To avoid detection, he hadn’t sent anyone after Daederich and his pet hunter. There were too many risks of leading them here.
However, others would track the pair for their own interests in the outcome. And for the right price any of them would help Cyrus with this little dilemma.
Only one that Cyrus knew of was up to the task.
Setting down his drink, Cyrus reached for his phone, dialing a number he hadn’t used in so long he couldn’t be sure it hadn’t changed.
He smiled as a familiar voice answered and wasted no time getting to the point. “How badly do you want your revenge?”
Chapter Two
The bar was far enough outside Raleigh, North Carolina, that one would expect it to be a small, backwoods dive. Instead, it was a large western tavern inside a converted barn with the fields paved into a huge parking lot that was almost full.
Daederich ignored the line that stretched clear to the other side of the building and strode up to the bouncer, ready to toss him aside if he suggested waiting with the others. This was the first lead in far too long and he’d bloody any man who got in his way.
Including Elah, who put a hand on his shoulder and stepped forward, approaching the bouncer with his usual irritating calm. “Excuse me, sir, but we’re meeting with a young lady—”
“Yeah?” Pursing his lips, the big, balding bouncer looked from Elah to Daederich. “What’s her name?”
Elah gave the bouncer a level look. “Rosali.”
Jaw ticking, the bouncer glanced around, inhaling roughly before he stepped aside and gestured for them to pass. Inside, modern country music from a band onstage mixed with the noise of the crowd. A dance floor took up most of the first level. Several steps led up to a platform on one side and on the other side winding stairs went up to the large open area of the second floor.
The whole damn place was packed. He’d gotten the information about the lead from Elah, but unless the man was stupid enough to be holding out on him, they’d been told nothing more than to meet Rosali here. How the fuck were they supposed to find her? Granted, picking out the immortals wouldn’t be difficult. This was a virtual buffet, as were most large gatherings. But a buffet drew many and they had no time to waste.
Cyrus had already held Lydia for much too long.
Daederich refused to think of how much time had passed. He sensed she was alive. Knew she was holding on, trusting him to find her. Considering anything else would be a distraction he couldn’t afford.
I’m coming, my love. He could still see her, every time he closed his eyes, offering herself in exchange for his son. Making his promise to keep her safe worthless.
A tiny woman inched up to Daederich’s side, batting her eyelashes as she slid her hand up his forearm. He jerked away and glared at her. She paled and scampered away. Smart girl. He was hungry and impatient and on edge. If he was tempted to stop for a snack, whoever he chose likely wouldn’t survive.
“Will you relax?” Elah surveyed the crowd, arms folded over his chest, an easy smile on his lips. “From what my contact told me, Rosali was one of Cyrus’ victims. She’s likely afraid to meet with us. You’re not looking too approachable.”
Leaning against the wall behind him, Daederich ran a hand over his face. Elah was right. Few would risk standing against Cyrus, and scaring away one willing to help them was not a chance he would take.
As a mortal, Daederich had been a hired gun. He’d started out as a soldier, but he’d quickly learned he wasn’t good at following orders. With the Seebataillon in Germany, he’d thrived during training, but he’d barely made it thro
ugh his first tour without killing his commanding officer.
The arrogant fuck.
Once he struck out on his own he found he preferred to know his enemy. He selected assignments carefully, though he would admit he’d rarely turned down a well-paying job no matter the mark. He’d been damn good at his job. Had grown arrogant as he took down bigger and more powerful targets.
Which is how he’d ended up as one of Cyrus’s captives. A rich man had approached him, desperate to find his son and willing to pay anything to see the people who’d taken him suffer. Daederich had dealt with organized crime before and expected more of the same. Then he found out Cyrus wasn’t quite…human.
There were so many stories, Daederich simply learned all he could and found a creature like Cyrus. Once he killed the thing, he convinced himself the job wouldn’t be too difficult. They could die. That was all he needed to know.
Cyrus had been impressed by Daederich’s ability to breach his hold. Which was probably the only reason Daederich had been kept. Used to entertain.
Elah had pointed out that Daederich’s gift to shield his mind likely came from old magic in his bloodline. It had given him the strength to escape Cyrus once, made it so his sire couldn’t control him, but that was all. His son didn’t have the same power and Lydia had no defenses at all. So long as Cyrus could hurt them, what Daederich could do meant nothing.
Which was why he was working with Elah now. And why, much as he hated it, he would do what the hunter said. Elah was almost as old as Cyrus, and after centuries, with the training of the most elite of their kind behind him, the man was still cautious in his approach, planning out every maneuver like a trainer soldier. Which had given Daederich and Lydia a way to exact some revenge. And helped free Deaderich’s son.
Sharing Lydia with Elah had seemed like a way to gain some advantage at the time, but looking back to that day, almost a year ago, Daederich realized it had meant so much more. Elah was willing to give his life to save her. She’d earned his respect and he cared for her.
The End (Deadly Captive Book 3) Page 2
