Enslaved By the Others (An H&W Investigations Novel)

by Jess Haines

  Royce must have sensed my discomfort. He leaned in to whisper to me, his lips brushing over my ear in a way that sent a delicious shiver down my spine. “I hate this place, but it’s the biggest residential property I have within commuting distance to the city that hasn’t been burned to the foundations. I promise you’ll find our bed more than adequate and far more comfortable. Think you can tolerate it until I purchase and renovate a new apartment building in Manhattan?”

  Our bed. He was talking like he expected me to live here. Or wherever. With him. The thought simultaneously filled me with dread and desire.

  Well. Maybe more desire than anything else when he gave me that look. Mouth dry, I nodded, hoping whatever business he needed to wrap up before he could show me that bed wouldn’t take long.

  Chapter Thirty

  We went to a large room with a few couches and chairs, but not nearly enough seats for everyone. Royce set me in one of the chairs to one side, away from the bulk of the crowd but close enough that he could keep an eye on me. At one point, Analie rushed in, ignoring Royce’s look of warning. She shoved a small plate of sugar cookies into my hand, bouncing up and down anxiously on her heels.

  “Did you see Gavin? What about Jo-Jo? Did they like the cookies?”

  The teenaged werewolf didn’t look like much with her mousy brown hair and gawky frame still not quite grown into itself, but the feral glow to her eyes and the strength of her hand on my arm were all the reminder I needed of her Other side. Gritting my teeth so as not to startle her or scare her off with a cry of pain, I set the plate aside and tugged her fingers until she got the hint and loosened her grip. Once the pressure let up, it was a lot easier to give her a warm, comforting smile.

  “They both liked the cookies. Gavin sends his love and Jo-Jo misses you every day.” I paused, giving her a moment to collect herself as tears built in her eyes. Poor kid. So far from her friends and family, a semi-willing “guest” of the vampires, she must have been frantic for news of her pack. Even knowing she could turn into a monstrously huge werewolf—one of the Goliath pack, who more than lived up to their name—I couldn’t resist giving her the hug she so obviously needed. She managed to keep herself together and not crush me, though, pressed so close, I could feel her suppressed sobs.

  She pulled back soon enough, swiping the building moisture from her eyes with the back of a hand. Sniffling, she gave me a watery smile. “Thank you. Thank you so much. They mean the world to me.”

  I nodded, then grimaced. “Analie, I’m so sorry—they both wrote you letters, but after what happened back there—”

  Her face fell, the tragedy written there breaking my heart. I grabbed her hand to give it a squeeze, not surprised to feel a bit of fur under my fingers as the stress was getting the better of her. Royce was making his way over, his intent to boot Analie out written all over his face. I tugged her arm to get her going, speaking in a rush.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Royce. We’ll figure out a way for you to get in touch with them. Go on, we’ll powwow on it tomorrow.”

  Her smile wasn’t quite so forced this time. With a determined nod, she bolted, zigzagging through the crowd and disappearing through the door.

  By the time all of the humans, vampires, and miscellaneous Others squeezed in, the place was packed. Luke kept twitching and moving around. Patches of fur intermittently popped up on his arms and neck as he searched for space to pace, not finding it. Once Royce reached my side, Analie was long gone, and he did not look amused.

  “You should let Clarisse show you upstairs,” Royce told me, waving her over from across the room.

  I shook my head, scowling at him. “What? After all I’ve been through with these people, you really want me to leave?”

  “I do. I know you well enough to know you will object to what needs to be done.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Clarisse startled the hell out of me when she snuck up behind me much sooner than expected considering the crowd to hook her arm in mine before I could pull away. Her long, curly black hair was tied out of her pale, freckled face with ribbons that matched her bright green eyes. She grinned up at me, her Shirley Temple dimples doing an excellent job of making her fangs look more like part of a cheap Halloween costume than a genuine threat.

  “It means the lad’s done something naughty and hasn’t figured out a good way of keeping it from ye or explaining it in a way you’ll accept yet. Aye?”

  Royce’s response was as sour as hers was cheery. “Aye. Yes. Shiarra, I’m sorry. This won’t be comfortable for you to witness. You should wait in the other room.”

  He didn’t word it as a request. This was it. Whatever he was about to do, this was the thing Soo-Jin had warned me about. I knew it in my gut. I widened my stance, digging my heels in when Clarisse pulled my arm.

  “I’ll stay here, thanks.”

  His eyes narrowed, but he nodded to Clarisse, who stopped tugging at me. There was a chill edge to his voice that had never been there before, save for when he threatened me into signing the contract that made me his donor.

  “If you insist. Keep any objections to yourself. You may not like it, but what I’m about to do is necessary. If you question me or interfere in any way, Clarisse will remove you.”

  A bit stung by that, I nodded, vowing to keep my mouth shut. Whatever happened, no matter what he did, I would not suffer the indignity of being railroaded out. He pointed me to a plush, overstuffed chair as he moved into position to address the room.

  He cut quite a figure there, flanked by the columns at either side of the wide mouth of a granite fireplace. His tailored button-down shirt outlined the sculpted planes of his chest, and I had to suppress a slew of thoughts about biting those buttons off to get at what was hidden under the silky material.

  The bastard had just issued an ultimatum that should have had me wanting to throttle him, not rip his clothes off. Though the ghost of a smile that touched his lips, and my sense of his eyes on me before he cleared his throat for the attention of the others, hinted that he knew exactly where my thoughts had wandered. Maybe—just maybe—he’d even had a hand in directing them there.

  I would have a little chat with him about that once we were alone.

  Gideon sidled close to where Royce had me sit, folding his arms and surveying the room like he owned it. Luke the Were-cat settled on the other side of me, taking a similar stance. If I hadn’t known any better, I might have thought they considered themselves my bodyguards. Clarisse sat on the arm of the chair, holding my hand as she watched Royce.

  I spared a glance to the group of people doing their best to fade into the background, failing miserably since many of the vampires were drawn to their fear. Most of the humans looked like they were on the verge of losing their lunches or their sanity. Maybe both. One of them was shaking so badly that a nearby vampire getting jostled grabbed her upper arms to hold her still. She promptly fainted, leaving the vampire holding her limp frame looking stricken and confused, and the closest people shuffling as far away as they could.

  Royce cleared his throat a second time, and that was enough to send a hush through the room, everyone giving him their attention.

  “My thanks to those of you who assisted in returning my property to me.”

  Clarisse’s hand tightened on mine when I flinched. The reminder of what Max had made me into—what the rest of vampire society viewed me as—coming from Royce’s lips hurt in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

  His gaze flicked over the unfamiliar faces, studying them briefly before he picked out the elf and Were-puma among them. “I assume you two have clans to be returned to, yes?”

  “Yes,” the elf said at the same time Luke said, “No, I don’t have a pride.”

  Royce gestured to Wesley. “See to these two, would you?”

  He waited until Wesley led the pair out of the room. Once they were gone, leaving only the vampires, humans, and Gideon behind, Royce bowed his head, briefly rubbing the
bridge of his nose. He was clearly uncomfortable, but resigned himself to whatever it was he was about to do. His expression was hard, though tinged with regret when he turned his attention to the humans huddled across the room.

  “Have any of you been bitten? Scarred? Those of you who bear any physical marks from your time in captivity, come to me.”

  Clarisse’s hand on my shoulder was all that kept me from giving in to the urge to approach and join the group of people shuffling closer to him, drawn like moths to a flame. There were only three who stayed where they were, as well as the girl who had passed out and was still cradled in the vampire’s arms. The trio clung to each other, staring in mute horror as Royce spread his arms and nodded to the remaining vampires.

  Several of them stepped forward to take those people into their arms, looking deep into their eyes and whispering instructions. I was close enough to overhear a few of them. They were enchanting them into forgetting Max, forgetting their confinement, and urging them to sign contracts and move in with one of these other vampires as soon as possible. If questioned about the source of their scars, they were to say it was from their new vampire masters, received after the contract was signed.

  The other three girls were still clinging to each other for safety, though they made no effort to run. Outnumbered and adrift in a room full of Others, the futility of their situation was obvious. One, I noticed, was the girl who had spoken in the language I couldn’t place. She may not have understood what anyone was saying, but she could see enough to understand and be afraid.

  Sick to my stomach by the implications, I looked back to Royce, who was using his considerable mindfuck powers to call over the remaining three women. They approached together, still afraid, but unable to refuse seeing as they were staring so intently into his eyes.

  Once they were close enough, he settled his hands on the cheeks of one, tilting her head up so she couldn’t avoid his gaze. Her mouth went slack, eyes glazing over.

  “Your name?”

  “Brittany. Brittany Reynolds,” she whispered.

  “And where are you from? Did anyone see you get taken by Max’s men?”

  “From Iowa. Nobody saw. It was dark.”

  He asked a few similar, probing questions about who she was and where she was from. Her family. Her friends. How she spent her free time. Things that might have given him hints as to how Max or his cronies had chosen her. Things he could use to fabricate a reason for her disappearance that her friends and family and coworkers would accept—something easier to swallow than “temporary unavailability due to enslavement by vampires.”

  It was both fascinating and chilling to watch him work. Once he had all the info he needed, including a home address for her parents where she could be safely dropped off, the real work started. His gaze narrowed, and he leaned forward, his fingers tightening just a bit to make little indentations on her temples as his tones shifted from questioning to commanding.

  “When I tell you to sleep, you will close your eyes and rest. You will not wake until ordered, and when you do, you won’t remember anything about who took you, where you were, or what happened to you. You never saw this place or any of these people. You will stay away from vampires and anyone who works for them from now on. Sleep, Brittany. Forget us. Forget Max. Forget me.”

  Her eyes drifted shut and she sagged against him. He held her to him, smoothing her hair back from her face. There might have been some remorse there, but aside from a slight twist to his lips I couldn’t tell if it bothered him at all that the black enchant he had cast over this woman guaranteed pieces of her mind would be altered forever. He slid his arms under her legs and lifted her up so he could lay her out on a nearby couch.

  He then looked to me, taking in my reaction much as he had studied her. I’m not sure what was reflected on my face. Disgust, maybe? Amazement, definitely. And a return of that bone-deep fear I had once held for him, a fear I had conveniently forgotten after we had spent an amazing night together in bed.

  It wasn’t rational, but for a second—just a second—I had to wonder if the memory of that night and the desire I had felt for him was something he had planted in me, too.

  He turned back to the other two girls, repeating the process.

  When he discovered one of them did not speak English, he called over Clarisse.

  “See if you can figure out where she’s from and who we have in town who speaks her language. No outside interpreters. If you can’t manage, let me know and I’ll see what I can do. Oh, and see to those two. Get Mouse to give you some petty cash to make whatever arrangements are necessary and get them out of here as soon as possible.”

  Clarisse got to her feet and sauntered over to the dazed-looking woman who was lucky that a language barrier was the only reason she’d dodged a mindfuck bullet. The vampire took her arm and led her out. The other vampires were also drawing the other humans away, probably to their own rooms. Most of the people were looking confused, but a few were licking their lips and clinging to their new vampire hosts in a way that made me awfully uncomfortable. All traces of fear radiating off of them were gone.

  That was the worst thing—their choices had been taken from them, all because they’d been made victims of a madman. What bothered me more was that, even though it frightened and disgusted me, I had an inkling of why twisting their thoughts and wiping their memories had been necessary.

  “Neat trick,” said Gideon, who had been watching these goings-on with avid interest. “Teach it to me sometime?”

  “If you become one of us, perhaps,” Royce said.

  Now that was curious. Unless there was some sarcasm in that statement I couldn’t detect, I hadn’t known magi or their ilk could be turned into vampires.

  That new train of thought derailed at the station when I realized Royce was looking down at me again. His black eyes glittered like glass, reflecting none of the thoughts that must have been roiling in his head. With a start, I dropped my gaze and bit my lip, clenching my hands into fists in my lap so he wouldn’t see my fingers shaking.

  I hadn’t given any thought to what kind of position I must have put him in by bringing those people here, or what it would mean for the vampire community if word got out to the mundane world what Max had been doing.

  Aside from the obvious—so many innocent lives lost—the problems that Max had caused with his murder spree in one of Royce’s clubs had been numerous and lasting. Even though it had been proven Royce and the vampires of New York had nothing to do with it, they were often blamed for the deaths. Even my name had come up in connection with it a few times. Within weeks, there had been a couple of states that passed emergency bills allowing wholesale hunting of vampires. Last I heard, those laws were being reviewed in the Supreme Court, but many vampires, and even people who dressed too Goth for the tastes of those with a need to take out their fears on any convenient target, had died. I couldn’t imagine how much worse things would get if word about Max’s activities somehow leaked to the press.

  What made me feel sicker yet was the realization that I was thinking more in terms of protecting my friends than to look out for the best interests of Max’s other victims. They had not chosen to be part of that slave ring, I was sure. They all must have had friends and families that they would want to return to. But if they signed the contracts, then at some point they could return to their former lives—albeit with some changes—and no one would be the wiser as to what had been going on.

  No one but me and the Others who had been involved in shutting Max’s operations down.

  That sent a brief pang of alarm through me. Was Royce going to make me forget, too? I didn’t have the charm or Other blood anymore. I had no way to stop him if he wanted to alter my memories. I wouldn’t even know if he did it.

  My fingers crept to the scar on my hip, and I couldn’t help but blanch remembering what Max had told me. “I’m going to do something to remind you of your place and ensure you never forget the time you spend with me, howev
er long you may live.” Maybe, in some twisted way, Max had known it would come to this. His own sick, perverted version of looking out for me. Even if the specifics were wiped away, I would always have a reminder etched into my skin that I was no better than some prize horse or cattle.

  Even worse than that, I was a traitor to my own kind. I did nothing to step in to stop the vampires from wiping the memories of captivity from these peoples’ minds. I did nothing to stop them from walking right into another form of slavery. Even if these other vampires were nowhere near as cruel or heartless as Max, these people would never again have a chance at regaining their free will.

  Royce had saved these peoples’ lives, and mine. Those who could safely go back to their homes and families without risk were being given that option. Only the ones who were unlucky enough to bear scars couldn’t be trusted to be released out of the spheres of vampiric influence. Not yet.

  Inevitably, if they did go free, someone would see the damage. Question it. Report it. The thought of Royce, or Clarisse, Angus, Ken, Wesley, or any of the other vampires I had met, who had helped or watched over me at one time or another, being hunted or killed for a crime they didn’t commit was why I stayed silent.

  And that decision would haunt me for the rest of my life.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Royce’s touch, a light brush of the back of his fingers over my cheek, was surprisingly reassuring. Considering our proximity, he must have picked up on my fears and doubts. The part of me that was still in a semi-panic about having my memories wiped was being buried under the fierce need to be comforted. Of course he would know just what to do to make me feel better.