by Scott, Talyn
Chapter Three
Isla woke up manacled to a stainless steel table, horrified, her body chilled and aching. Severe pain seared her right side. Something pumped into her stomach, though she couldn’t see what it was, the throbbing was indescribable. Working her jaw, no words formed, since a long tube traveled her dry throat. She tried to move her head, blinking her eyes, her sight slowly returning with every passing second.
What had happened to her? Where was she? A hospital? No, this place didn’t smell like a hospital, didn’t sound like one, either. Was much too quiet. Eerie quiet. Quiet enough to hear the blood rush her head. Quiet enough to pick up the sounds of…
Wings.
Overhead.
Black wings to be exact.
Briefly, Isla closed her eyes, slowly recalling her night's horror. Twin winged monsters had approached her as she rushed across campus late for her next class. Gripping her arms, they carried her away as if they had every right to. As if, she belonged to them. With bored ease, they tossed her body into a white van. Her textbooks landed to her right. Her backpack slammed to her left. All the while, she looked on in horrified wonder as students walked by without noticing anything.
How?
“She’s coming around,” a deep voice approached, a brush of wind against her face. “You cannot deny the stamina found in a youngling’s blood.”
Still focusing her eyes, she refused to look at theirs. Isla remembered those yellow feline-like pupils stretching across onyx irises, commanded by an ebony body lost against night’s sky.
A hand brushed matted strands from her face. “Such straight, jet hair and look at the endless blue of those eyes.”
“Celtic Were somewhere down her line, I suppose. Tempting, yes?”
“They always are.”
A third voice cut in, melodious, his lilt deeply seductive. “I’ve visited every facility, and I can’t help but wonder. Where are the others?”
Glass shattered next to her, the splash of liquid hitting the floor. She couldn’t look at him, either, the one whose voice was now a raw whip, the one who had briefly greeted her when she arrived here, right before she fainted. Isla focused to her right. A man in a white lab coat was standing inside a glass enclosure while studying slides under a microscope. Blood filled the containers surrounding him.
“No others were found.” The voice to her left stood strong against the one she knew as Poison.
“One?” A sharp inhale. “Two of you hunted one for thirty-six hours? Where were you the rest of the night?” His hand lowered on her abdomen, skin tightening beneath his touch, a sharp pain responded.
“Serving the Dynasty Prince, you knew this!” A flap of wings, a light gust lifted the scent of antiseptics and salted copper to her nose. Her throat on fire, Isla thought she would choke around the tube.
She was in Frankenstein’s laboratory.
Complete with more than one mad scientist.
“Time draws nigh. Your Dynasty Empire will soon be licking your boots if you choose your side now, and choose it wisely.” A slow exhale, a monster fighting to pull himself together, Poison mocked, “Otherwise, what are you choices, Lovec? You have none.”
“Until you come up from these hidden lairs and show your hand, I cannot go rogue!”
Another set of footsteps interrupted Poison’s reply, a weaker voice, definitely nervous. “I’m sorry, Master.”
“Sorry?”
“She’s incompatible.”
Incompatible for what?
“Damn it!” A fist flying down slammed next to her. “Another food source, then, we cannot waste her. Not that she’ll last in this group, they’ll tear her apart.”
Food? Tear her apart?
“I could drug her,” the weaker voice offered empathetically. “If they bleed her out, she won’t suffer. Much.”
“However, they want food terrorized," Poison argued. "Tastes better, I suppose.”
Poison’s hands reached her face, thumbs wiping away her tears. This time, Isla’s eyes wouldn’t respond by closing, forcing her to behold the sight of madness. He had to be the most beautiful man that ever walked the face of this earth, and he needed to die. Isla wanted the honor of killing him, and up until now, she’d never felt true hatred toward another.
“Fine, I guess I owe her that much.” With a softening voice, Poison brought his lips to hers, inhaling around her tube. “First, send in the humans.” The humans? “Maybe they’ll take the edge off before they touch this beauty.”
A slow gait came closer, a static power far different from the others. “You’re wasting a perfectly good Donor due to impatience.”
“Impatience?” Poison pulled away from her, sneering. “Go back to your duties.”
“I read the reports this morning. It appears as though we’ve had a turnaround with Amy, though you neglected to tell me. Plans are moving in the right direction. This girl here has a similar genetic makeup as Amy, and she will undoubtedly give us another shot. It’s a risk worth taking. Think about it. She’s pretty. It’ll be easy enough for one of our accommodating Lovci to find her a willing Dynasty Vampyr host. Just like Sixten’s mate, more than likely, she’ll blood bond with the monarch. I’ll keep an eye on her, and the minute her blood turns needy, I’ll have a Lovec move in and bring her back to the lab.”
“The Dynasty is becoming a complication,” Poison snarled. “It won’t take long before they’re on to us.”
“Maybe you’ve missed a few meetings, Poison, but the Dynasty’s already on to us. Give me reign of this girl. Isla, is it? Allow an unsuspecting Dynasty Vampyr to work her for us. In a few months, she should be compatible for our needs. As it stands, we only have the promise of what Amy will provide. Remember, she’s not a true immortal. How much more can her body take?” A slow exhale followed by the scrape of a blade whispering across a sharpening block. Back and forth. “Tell me now, if you want to invest in Isla. Otherwise, I have better things to do.”
Poison rose over her, his eyes held an odd curiosity Isla had never encountered, and again she couldn’t look away. “Fine.” He then moved out of sight. “Take her memory. And when she comes back to me, she’s mine.”
“Remove the tube.” Isla felt calculated hands move around her, tearing out what was left of her body through her esophagus. Minutes later, she gagged and spat, but was unable to sit up and clear her throat due to her restraints. In that moment, she thought to choke to death would be a blessing. While struggling to breathe, a be-clawed hand came into her line of vision and then a blade sliced through its wrist. “Drink from me.” Blood dripped down. “Then you will forget everything for now.”
Joint Faction Facility, Marco Island FL
"Atrocities have been committed against Gage MacGelton, Sayer MacGelton, Azure Malloy MacGelton, and, as a whole, the North American Werewolf Pack. All due to your criminal intent, Collin Fraser, by following your brother and his band of roving senseless vampires." Abruptly, Maestru lifted his eyes and delivered a look the grim reaper could never pull off it he tried his best. "Regrettably for you, rogue vampires are my pet peeve. In case you're wondering, Collin, it will take years before I finish making an example out of you."
Maestru settled on the edge of a battered, aluminum table inside their joint faction facility on Marco Island, going over Collin’s endless paperwork piece by piece. With a cluck of his tongue, he continued, “Oh, I remember your brother, Tare, quite well. Caused all kinds of upheaval in Inverness and London, didn’t he? Over the years, personal dealings with him made me wise up, quickly, avoiding his inane games. Too bad you weren’t smart enough to do the same.”
Rock Kiard’s eyes narrowed shrewdly, the Beast inside him pacing, calling out Maestru’s hypocrisy. Tare and Collin had attacked Gage’s mate with calculated intensity. Maestru had committed the same crime against Jayce and Bren, without so much violence. Difference was, he worked as the Coven Master and his reasons weren’t self-serving or motivated by vengeance. By his war-inducing acti
ons, he freed many vampiresses and potential Brides from a horrendous, Habaline facility buried deep beneath Scotland’s soil.
Tare’s crimes were quite personal and wholly vindictive.
For the most part, Collin had played along.
When Collin sensed Rock’s werewolf rising, he made a sorry attempt at misting away, which he couldn’t accomplish with Maestru’s invisible leash tethering him. Oycher gripped the troubled vampire with one hand and pulled a triple ball medieval flail out of his long coat with the other. He tossed it on the table, next to Maestru’s thigh, before reaching back and bringing out a Stavz. That particular weapon went straight over Collin’s heart.
“Don’t tease me,” Oycher warned, his fangs scraping Collin’s ear. “I’m hungry.”
“My apologies, Vojak,” was Collin’s shaky reply.
Too bad, in their world, apologies meant next to nothing.
“Gage MacGelton has no reason to turn you over to me. In fact, he has more reasons to send you back to your former Coven piece by piece over centuries.” He dropped Oycher’s report and slid his hand over the flail, caressing it with dark thoughts rolling through his mind. “You may speak now.”
“Master, if it weren’t for my double-crossing Tare, Gage wouldn’t have saved his mate in the first place.”
A harsh laugh left Rock’s lips. “That remains to be seen, vampire, you’ve proven no loyalty. Your panic over our Alpha’s rage incited you to deceive your brother, nothing more. Not that I blame you for your well placed fear but your timing was way off, Azure nearly died. ”
“I spilled my blood to save her, betrayed my family.”
“When one goes rogue, one betrays family,” Rock snapped, a peculiar growl leaving the back of his throat. “You did that long before you saved, as you vainly call your attempt at a last-minute reprieve, Azure.”
“Let’s get to the blood, shall we?” Maestru interjected, his to do list was backing up before his eyes and the day had only begun. Glancing at his watch, he should have left Marco Island hours ago. “You are scentless, Collin.” A rarity found in certain Species vampires. Many were born with their own inherent tricks or wizardry, but a scentless creature remained a deadly one on all accounts. That is, if a Master couldn't control him. Maestru could.
Easily.
“Yes, my Master. I am.”
“For that trait alone, you will live,” he explained with one qualification, “for a while.” Which was a total lie, Maestru felt a strange kinship with this particular rogue. Collin had lost his Bride to final death before he spent any significant years with her. Maestru knew what that kind of pain entailed. Nevertheless, without any qualms, he would use Collin’s personal agony to aid his Coven. Therefore, if Collin played nicely for the Coven, he would live indefinitely. Maybe he could live outside the confines of prison one day. Time would tell. “There are alien creatures out there,” Maestru continued with a wave of his hand, “who keep countless females captive for reasons we have, at this point, only skimmed. Soon, if they haven’t already, they’ll hunt to replace those we’ve recovered, more than likely doubling their efforts. We need a scentless spy dedicated solely on unraveling this mysterious web, one who can near a Habaline and remain undetected.”
Collin’s gaze flew to Maestru’s face, clearly eager to prove his loyalty. “I’ll do anything, my Master. I have nothing else to live for other than to serve you.”
“Words? Promises uttered from desperate lips?” With a shift of muscle, he left the table, going nose-to-nose with a possible warrior in the making. Perhaps after Maestro broke him completely, he would rise stronger. “In time we may attempt this with you, but not now. By your actions, Collin Fraser, you have bound your future. Change quickly or I will kill you. Slowly.” At his nod, Oycher marched Collin back to his cell, right next to Adam.
Maestru saw him coming too late. In distorting speed, Rock wrapped the triple ball flail around Maestru’s throat, effectively choking him. “By your actions, Coven Master, you bound your future.”
Rock wasn’t an Alpha or a Beta, but his werewolf was a pitiless anomaly, far stronger than most. Much like Maestru, Rock walked life’s cliff, charged by thoughts of slipping one-way or falling the other. Rock was an escalating situation that Maestru hadn’t avoided. However, the proper time to address him had been lost between one thing and the next. “Might I remind you, from thin air, I can pull ruthless spells and counter every move you make or intend to make. I’ll allow you the next twenty seconds of my time. Say it. Do it. Then let go of it, once and for all.”
“Once and for all?” A rolling laugh escaped him. “Do I look like I’m going to get over you taking my queen and then feeding from her? Poisoning me and my guard?” He shook his head, rage transforming his face. “Just yesterday, I beheaded an Undead Tare made. Much like you, it was crazed.” Rock pressed his forehead against Maestru’s, his eyes so brilliantly blue the Coven Master knew his sensitive retinas would burn any minute, but he refused to close them. “I imagined it was you, licked his blood clean from my dripping claws. And to find out you have taken Blythe’s best friend as property,” he growled. “Dakota would be better off dead!”
“That wasn’t your choice, Beast.”
“Neither was it yours, Coven Master!”
With a slight push, the werewolf collapsed the table beneath them, his heavy weight pinning Maestru down. With every threat against his ancient tolerance, he fought to control his Species and let the Beast have his remaining seconds. With great reluctance, Maestru had to admit that Rock deserved this snarl session.
“You want once and for all from me?” Rock tightened the flail, its chain crushing Maestru’s windpipe. “Once and for all won’t happen anytime soon, not while you’re needed against this newest Habaline war. But I’ve learned a great deal about patience.” His canines lowered, his werewolf flickering in and out with a smile that wasn’t mean to be nice. In that moment, Maestru understood that Rock descended from an Alpha Beast. “Your fall will be one of the greatest investments of my life,” he whispered silkily, “and I’m expecting a big payoff when I collect.”
A voice spoke over them, one belonging to an ancient highlander Maestru knew all too well. “Forgive this interruption, Rock, but I’m here on behalf of the Beta. Bane is relievin’ you of all duties for the next few days, and might I say congratulations, you lucky bastard. I’ll stay on the island in your absence.”
Rock took one last look at Maestru and dematerialized.
Maestru sat up, annoyed, removing the chain from his throat and then rubbing at his ravaged flesh. “Great, now I have to feed again.”
Heath cocked his head, his eyes flashing silver. “May I request a moment of your time, Coven Master? Bane and I have tracked a problem that involves your Coven.”
Easily pushing Rock’s threats out of his thoughts, Maestru collected Collin’s scattered papers and smashed the flail into dust. He turned, eyeing the spitting image of Ciaran. Oh, joy. Maestru hated anything that reminded him of that particular Alpha. When Ciaran had his ass in a sling, losing his mate to a rogue Habaline faction roving Scotland’s countryside, who really saved his Rebecca? Maestru and a selection of well-paid, vampire mercenaries had. What thanks did he get? Vile whispers uttered behind his back, other factions questioning his authority. Some even questioned his sanity. And when faced with a werewolf from Ciaran’s bloodlines, like right now, he’d rather have a razorblade enema than share an ungrateful Beast’s air. “Involving my Coven, you say? So trackers track problems now?”
“They seem to be on the rise, as of late.”
“On that, we’ll agree.” Maestru decided reluctantly, “You have three minutes.”
“My thanks.” Heath didn’t look grateful in the least. “I’m sure you know that our Pack has tripled its efforts in findin’ our unmated lasses, particularly mixed bloods.”
“You want them under your Pack’s protection.” Common knowledge. “Can’t blame you there, and?”
�
�We assign an unmated male to any lass we find. Of course, she wouldna’ know she’s bein’ watched.”
“And I’m sure she wouldn’t sense it, either.” Maestru rolled his eyes. Even humans sensed when monsters circled, however, mixed blood werewolves weren’t his problem. “Land this plane, Heath.”
“One of our youngling females spotted an unfamiliar mixed blood on the university’s campus. Immediately following protocol, she phoned our security office. From there, Bane secured an unmated male to watch over her. That chosen male misted to the campus within fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes too late, that is.” Heath’s jaw clenched, eyes closing briefly. “The male got in touch with Bane, claiming he smelled the mixed blood’s trail and a serious overload of her adrenalin threading through it. When our team arrived, they confirmed she was nowhere in sight. Her trail dropped off in the parking lot.”
“I’m sorry for your Pack’s loss.” He shrugged. “If you have a photo, I’ll make sure Qudir sends it out. Maybe someone will spot her.”
“We want more than that.”
Of course they did. “More?” Maestru shook his head, dumbfounded. “We’re stretched. Rock and Bane know that.”
“Allow me to explain myself, then. I just came from the university.” Mercurial eyes moved within themselves, his Beast’s agitation rising. “Know what I picked up? Dynasty hunters, your Lovci were in action,” he stopped, gauging Maestru’s reaction.
“A visual on Lovci?” Maestru scoffed. “Even I find them hard to spot.” No one alerted him to any hunting in the area, as usual.
“Visual, no,” Heath explained, “you’re not the only one who can scent ‘em, Coven Master.”
If Heath expected him to be shocked, he’d be sorely disappointed. Maestru knew a certain number of werewolf trackers could scent hunters. “They’re not my Lovci. None of the creatures from our Dynasty are mine,” replied Maestru wearily.
“They’re securin’ Donors to feed your empire, usin’ our lasses as their dinner!”
