To hear Cyrus saying he’d teach Rosali how to care for her pets was frightening, but at least he’d never accidentally killed any, right?
That still didn’t explain why he’d give a damn whether Elah lived or died. Cyrus might be obsessed with me, but Daederich had always been his favorite act. And he was just fucking fine.
Stepping up to my side, Cyrus put his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve answered your own question, Lydia. I give a damn because he’s important to you. I can’t be with you right now, but there’s no need for you to be alone.”
He held out the flask. I took it, uncapping it and bringing it to my lips.
Cyrus dropped to a knee and latched on to my wrist. “No. You will feed from me. This is only for him.”
Yeah, because I’m trusting that. I jerked away from him. “If it’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.”
“It’s diluted with blood thinners. The fresh blood will hasten his healing, while the anticoagulants will keep him docile.” Cyrus curved his hand under my chin, his fingers digging in to prevent me from looking away. “He will become exactly as you fear without this, Lydia. His body and mind will shut down. If Rosali decides to revive him after, nothing will be left of the man you know. Is that how you’ll repay his loyalty?”
My eyes teared as Cyrus finally released me. He straightened, brushing the dirt off the knee of his snug, black dress pants, then whipping out the black handkerchief from his jacket pocket to clean the dust from his boots.
While Cyrus primped, I met Elah’s steady gaze. A trickle of watery blood trailed from the corner of his lips and his bloodshot eyes. He opened his mouth, and for a split-second I was sure he would tell me no. Tell me he’d rather die.
And I wasn’t sure I could respect his wishes. Selfish, yes. But he’d be gone and I’d still be here, watching a thing with his face being used for eternity.
“Give it to me, Lydia.” Elah managed to lift his hand enough to place it over the one holding the flask. His skin was cold and I could barely feel his pulse when I brought my other hand to his wrist. “This is probably some sick game, but I wanna play.”
The tears I’d managed to hold back fell as I let out a broken laugh. Only Elah could joke in a situation like this. I shook my head and opened the flask, bringing it to his mouth.
Cyrus’s lips brushed my ear as I watched Elah swallow every last drop. “Consider this a gift, pet. But I suggest you don’t abuse it. If you fuck him, I will tear him limb from limb, leave bloody pieces in your bed, and keep his head on my wall as a fucking trophy. And a reminder for you not to cross me.”
I nodded, brushing Elah’s soft brown hair away from his cheeks as he drifted off to sleep. Already his color was better and his muscles had thickened. His wounds hadn’t quite healed, but no fresh blood spilled.
He’d be all right. And that was all I could ask for at this point. Having him here didn’t give me any hope that I could escape, but maybe he could at some point. Convincing him to leave without me wouldn’t be easy, but I’d worry about that later. At least he’d still be around to argue with me about it.
“Thank you.” I whispered, tipping my head back, surprised to see Cyrus hadn’t moved.
He had the strangest look on his face. A mix between confusion and relief. He cleared his throat. “You’re welcome.”
“Would it be pushing my luck to ask for some clean clothes? Maybe medical supplies, since he’s healing so slowly?” Couldn’t hurt to ask.
Well, it could, but Cyrus seemed to be in a charitable mood, so I’d chance it.
Smirking, Cyrus shook his head. “You never cease to amaze me, Lydia. Yes, I will send someone with whatever you may need. This room is not my choice for you, but I will do my best to make it tolerable.”
“Won’t that make Rosali question what I mean to you?” I bit my bottom lip when his eyes narrowed. “That’s why I’m here. I heard what you said to her.”
“But you knew I was lying.”
“Yes.”
His expression softened. “Good.” He held out his hand. “Come, you will feed from me before I go. I will return to Rosali and keep her distracted. I can’t promise that one or both of you won’t be performing again soon, but I will buy you what time I can.”
Rather than thank him again, I took his hand and let him pull me into his arms. His gaze held mine, searching for something in my eyes. Whatever he found must have satisfied him, because he kissed me softly before guiding my lips to his throat and letting me drink my fill.
After he was gone, I lay on the bare mattress, doing my best to ignore the balming sensation of Cyrus’s blood repairing the damage done to my body. Elah was right. I’d been so focused on him, I hadn’t noticed how broken I was. Only with the pain gone did I realize so much of my flesh had torn that it was amazing I’d managed to get off the damn bed.
Everything Cyrus gave came with a price, but…he’d asked for nothing. He might later. He could come for me whenever, and that I questioned whether he would scared me. Of course he would. He was toying with me. Trying to get me to let my guard down.
He didn’t have to help Elah to do that.
Maybe not, but it had certainly made this the most pleasant exchange we’d ever had. I wasn’t fighting him off or holding still while he used me. Rather than cause pain, he’d eased mine.
And he wasn’t a big fan of Rosali. She was his sire, and she was the one who’d captured Daederich and Elah. The whole fucked up scene on stage had been her idea.
Not that Cyrus couldn’t have come up with something just as bad on his own, but the point was, he hadn’t. I wouldn’t exactly consider him an ally, but he wasn’t the greatest threat now.
The enemy of my enemy is my…
Fuck that noise. Cyrus wasn’t my anything.
Except the only one who could keep me alive.
Chapter Six
This room had belonged to a guard. A well-liked one, if the rich furnishing and well-appointed bathroom were anything to go by. Daederich spent his first hours in the room searching for the slightest weakness that could be exploited, but the windows were the width and length of his arm, made of glass that couldn’t be damaged no matter what he used on them. The door was reinforced steel, and unlike the door in his original cell, kept locked from the moment he was forced inside.
With a low growl of frustration, Daederich gave up his exploration of the room and began pacing, letting his mind go over all that had passed since his capture. Rosali had taken no chances, keeping Elah weakened with her tainted blood, several guards surrounding him whether he was conscious or not. She and her guard remained close to Daederich at all times, but not as though they considered him a real threat.
Not much of an advantage, but it was a start. Cyrus was focused on Lydia, and Rosali was obsessed with the novelty of having a hunter to toy with. Daederich’s only value was as a tool to fuck with Lydia’s head.
As much as he hated what watching him torture Elah had done to her, Daederich would accept the opportunity he’d been given for what it was. The poison had left his system and he was back to full strength. While Lydia and Elah suffered, Daederich would do everything in his power to find a way to free them.
The lock clicked and Daederich stopped pacing to watch Cyrus step in, fighting his instinct to attack the bastard when he caught Lydia’s scent on him. She’d been violated by Rosali’s men and the very idea of Cyrus taking his turn in private made Daederich’s blood boil.
He fisted his hands by his sides, grinding his teeth when Cyrus chuckled.
“Your mind may be closed to me, but you’re not a complicated man, Joe.” Cyrus smirked when Daederich’s brow rose at the use of his alias. “You belong to Rosali. I see no reason not to use the name she chose for you.”
Shrugging, Daederich crossed the room, going to the dresser to grab a change of clothes. Cyrus could call him whatever the hell he wanted to. If he was here, he wasn’t with Lydia. Which was no small blessing.
“What do you want, Cyrus?” The question came out as lifeless as he’d intended. As though he didn’t really care. The attitude had worked for him in the past.
The effort to breach the detachment entertained Cyrus. If Cyrus wasn’t bored, he’d linger.
“Two things.” Cyrus stood close behind him as he pulled off his bloodstained shirt. Then moved even closer, trapping Daederich against the dresser. His lips skimmed Daederich’s throat. “Tell me what I can do for Lydia. What will make her happy?”
What the actual fuck? Daederich scowled at Cyrus over his shoulder. “Make her happy? Is this a new game, you sick son of a bitch?”
“Of course it is. But you’re going to play along, Joe.”
“Why the fuck would I do that?”
Long, slender fingers sliding along the waist of Daederich’s jeans, Cyrus let out a weary sigh. “I want to make this as pleasant for her as possible. She will be mine in every way, but using violence will either break her, or make her hate me even more.”
“She should hate you!” Shit. Daederich’s careful control had slipped, but there was no taking it back. He couldn’t keep the emotion from his tone any longer. “I can’t stop you from torturing her or—”
“I didn’t touch her tonight. And if you help me, I won’t force her again.”
“You don’t honestly expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t think you have a choice.” Cyrus stroked the hard line of Daederich’s pelvis. Daederich pressed his fist against the dresser, shuddering with revulsion, but Cyrus didn’t seem to notice. He continued, sounding bored. “Are you going to reject even the slightest chance to keep her from suffering? For what? To save yourself?”
Daederich’s lips curled away from his teeth. “Save myself from what exactly? We both know I’m not strong enough to stop you from taking whatever you want.”
“Very true.” Cyrus chuckled, flipping open the button to Daederich’s jeans. “But you’re still trying to play the hero. Tell me what to give her, what will make her forget everything being done to her, even if for a little while. Whatever my motives, she’ll still have that gift. Don’t deny her that because it’s coming from me.”
Pressing his eyes shut, Daederich nodded slowly. Lydia had been suffering for months and a moment of happiness, without pain, might give her the strength she needed to survive until they could break free.
And that was the answer to Cyrus’s question.
“Freedom. Even the illusion of freedom is the only gift you could possibly give her that will make her forget.” Daederich’s eyes burned as tears of frustration blinded him. “You could always let her go.”
“We both know I won’t do that. But the illusion might be enough.” Cyrus pressed his lips to the back of Daederich’s shoulder in a disturbingly tender gesture. “She’s starting to hate you, you know. She might leave you if I gave her the choice.”
“You won’t, so what does it matter?”
“Because I still need a way to hold on to her.” Cyrus’s lips moved against his flesh. “But I have Elah. I can thank Rosalie for that at least. I might have killed him right off, rather than risk him getting loose, but she’s muzzled him quite effectively.”
Daederich almost pitied the hunter, but Elah would be fine. And wouldn’t allow Lydia to stay for here him. But it was best Cyrus believed otherwise. “That she has.”
“You’ve never been any fun to toy with.” Cyrus sighed. “You didn’t even ask what the second thing I want from you is.”
“It’s obvious.”
“Is it?” Cyrus wrapped his hand around the front of Daederich’s neck. “After all this time, one would figure you’d resent being used. I’m tempted, I haven’t enjoyed the games tonight. But you’ll just take whatever I do to you. Did the hunter find a way to make it more pleasurable?”
“That uptight bastard?” Daederich let out a tense laugh, the wood of the dresser cracking under his hands as he braced against it. “No. I was ready for this. You’re predictable, Cyrus. Just fuck me and get it over with.”
With an irritated growl, Cyrus jerked away from him, then latched onto his wrist. He twisted Daederich’s arm until his shoulder popped, tearing a muffled grunt from his lips. Pressing down, Cyrus forced him to his knees.
Daederich’s hand slapped the floor as he was shoved forward. Something sharp slid down the center of his back and warm blood spilled over his flesh, dripping onto the floor. The slicing agony came too fast for him to brace himself. He bit hard into his cheek to keep from crying out.
“I might be predictable, Joe, but you’re much more durable than you were before.” He knelt behind Daederich. “I can cut you, bleed you out, then use my blood to heal you and start all over again. I could make this last for hours. For days.” The dagger pierced Daederich’s chest, a slow penetration meant to draw out the shock of pain. “Are you ready for this? Maybe you want it to last. Maybe you enjoy it.”
The dagger twisted and Daederich panted as the blade glided across his nerves with each fresh cut. Bile rose in his throat and he struggled not to fall into the tempting darkness. A moment without pain wasn’t worth what would happen when he woke up.
“Look at all those beautiful muscles. So big, so strong, but you’re struggling to hold yourself up.” Cyrus thrust the dagger into him like he was fucking the deep wound with the blade. He licked the sweat from Daederich’s shoulder. “Are you still as tight as you were? Maybe I should give you the same offer I gave her. Make you cry out, call my name, hating yourself as you lose control.”
No!
As a mortal, Cyrus had been able to manipulate him. To force his own body to betray him. He didn’t have that power anymore. Giving Cyrus what he wanted would be nearly impossible.
Which means it would last a long time.
He could take it. He wouldn’t have a choice.
“How long do you think it would take me to make Elah say yes? Should I make Lydia watch? Do you think I could make her surrender to me then? Make her forget?”
Dragging in a rough breath, Daederich shook his head. The blood that wasn’t pooling on the floor pulsed into his muscles, gathering the last of his strength for a fight he couldn’t win. A fight that would end with him dead and Lydia in his place.
The door opened and Cyrus pulled the dagger from his chest, easing back with it held loosely in his blood slicked grip. “I didn’t realize you were awake, my love.”
That soft, sweet laugh was like a lick of frost along Daederich’s flesh. Rosali. The rustle of her skirts came closer, and cool silk brushed his thigh.
“And I thought I played rough.” She ran her hand over Daederich’s closely shaved hair. “Was he bad? Are you punishing him?”
“No, actually, this is a reward.” Cyrus chuckled. “One he’s not enjoying as much as he should.”
Rosalie clucked her tongue. “Well, that’s a shame. Can I help?”
“You’ll ruin your dress.”
“Ha! This old thing?” Rosali knelt in front of Daederich, the skirts of her dress soaking up his blood. She tipped his chin up with a finger. “Have you been a good dog, Joe? Should your mistress reward you?”
Meeting her eyes, Daederich couldn’t think of the right answer to give. All he could do was not tell her how much he wanted to wrap his hands around her long, delicate neck. How much he wished he could punch his fist into her chest and rip out her black heart. She looked so young, so vulnerable, but she was just as sick and twisted as Cyrus.
Maybe more so, because she actually looked surprised when Daederich didn’t say a word.
One hand on his shoulder, Cyrus yanked Daederich up to his knees, pressing his chest to Daederich’s bloody back. “She asked you a question, dog. Say ‘yes, Mistress.’ Unless you want to prove me a liar. Perhaps you don’t deserve a reward. Perhaps we should leave the scraps that are left of you to the guards.”
“Do you think the guards can get me off better than you can, Cyrus?” Daederich met Rosali’s eyes and smiled. Cyrus
played his games with sadistic precision, rarely diverging from his plans to amuse himself with a toy. Rosali was unpredictable. Which might be a weakness he could exploit. “As for your question, Mistress, yes. I’d like a reward. I’ve fucking earned it.”
Rosali giggled. “I think he’s my favorite pet, Cyrus. All that time with you and he’s still tugging at his leash.” She tapped her fingers on Daederich’s cheek. “What will it take to get you eating from my hand, puppy? I am pleased with how you performed with the hunter. I want to see it again.”
No! Damn it, Elah couldn’t take more. Not yet. The guards had been more than happy to take their turns with him. While Daederich, as the victor, had been left alone to watch.
It was a gamble, but he didn’t think Cyrus would bother with Elah. Not while he could use Lydia’s love for the hunter against her. What happened to Daederich wouldn’t hurt her as much, since Cyrus was doing everything in his power to make her hate him.
He turned his head, sucking one of Rosali’s fingers into his mouth. “How can a broken toy be a reward? Cyrus came to me, rather than amuse himself with the hunter or the girl.”
“True. But I came right to you.”
“I noticed.”
“Do leave him alone, Cyrus.” Rosali glared at Cyrus until he rose to his feet. Then she motioned for Daederich to stand with her. “I don’t like broken toys either. And I’m feeling lonely and restless tonight. Clean up and dress in something nice. I’ll send someone to bring you to my chambers. And I’ll have a surprise for you!”
After she skipped out of the room, Cyrus jerked open one drawer, then another, pulling out clothes and shoving them at Daederich. His own suit carefully in order, aside from the sheen of blood on his shirt, he smirked at Daederich, gesturing toward the bathroom.
“You don’t want to keep her waiting.”
“No, I don’t.” Daederich hesitated halfway to the door. “But why are you still here?”
The End (Deadly Captive Book 3) Page 7
