Bloody Ties

by Claire Marta

  “Your daddy doesn’t pick his assassins very well.” I taunt. “At least mine has the decency to use ones with an IQ.”

  Damien’s jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth.

  It looks like I’m not the only one with Daddy issues after all.

  Striding to the corpse he crouches to retrieve the weapon. Red stains the handle but I can see it doesn’t bother him. Rising he moves to my other attacker with a purpose I know all too well.

  “Boss please...She’s lying.”

  Tilting his head Damien’s blond curls bounce with the action. “We both know that I already know she’s not.” With his free hand he taps the side of the other male’s temple.

  What he means by that I am not so sure. Maybe it’s just intimidation. What I do know though is like a shark he already senses weakness.

  As the blade jams into his target I hear the guard gasp. The sound becomes a scream as the hilt is twisted with intent to inflict as much hurt as possible.

  From my vantage point I watch the life drain from the other vampire’s eyes.

  “Get her cleaned up and this time use someone we can trust. No one and I mean no one touches her again unless I say so.” He tells the men who have filtered in through the door, one of his brothers included. “If I am failed again it doesn’t matter who the fuck you are I will have your still beating heart served up on a platter.”

  The sense of fear is palpable.

  A hiss of discomfort escapes me as I am suddenly jerked up. I’m nothing but a ragdoll in the hands of Jamal. His strength matches that of Ivan my father’s right hand man. It only means he has to be old.

  With age for us comes power and strength. At only twenty-five-years-old I am a child compared to this one.

  Yet what they don’t know is I still have some tricks up my sleeve. Ones my father doesn’t even know about. If he did he would have bred me out the moment I was fertile.

  Wrapping a hand in my silky black hair Jamal’s thick bicep immobilizes my arms.

  “Stop mauling my men like a savage.” Damien’s words are low and clipped.

  In one sweeping look he takes in my injuries. Bruises are already forming on my left cheek, the puffiness is tingling. The cuts that litter my arms are only nicks.

  “If they touch me they lose body parts.”

  I don’t miss the way the corner of his lips tug up at my words. He’s trying not to smile.

  The scent of another female reaches my noses now that he’s standing so close. Eyes burning a hole through his I know he’s probably just come from a whore. The fact is it shouldn’t bother me, but it does. Curling my fingernails into my palms I battle the urge to claw at his conceited face.

  “Put your claws away princess. You might be a spoiled little bitch at home but you won’t be treated as such here.”

  “I want to see Kylie.” It comes out more of a plea than a demand.

  “That’s not going to happen any time soon.”

  Any attempt at using my persuasion isn’t going to work. This Rochester is far too strong willed. His brother on the other hand…

  “Michael do you think you can handle this without me holding your cock for comfort?”

  “I really didn’t need that imagery.” The younger of the two men complains. “But yeah I’ll get it done even if we have to muzzle the slut.”

  “Good.” Without a backward glance Damien stalks from the room his minions in tow.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Damien

  I’M PACING MY OFFICE. MY FISTS clench and relax over and over again. This princess is more trouble than she’s proving to be worth. But we can’t give her up so easily. Fuck Lucius. Fuck his men. Just fuck!

  Michael enters, I’m happy to say he’s a little bloody but other than that doesn’t look like she was able to try much with him.

  “Well?”

  “She’s locked up in one of the empty storage units downstairs. Jamal is with her. Phillip is beating the shit out of our men since they weren’t at their posts. He doesn’t know what you want done with them.”

  “Lock them up for now. I’ll deal with them in a day or two. Or never. Maybe I’ll let them rot down there.”

  “Oscar and Sheila are itching to get their hands on her.”

  I bet they are. Those two are a deadly pair, with Sheila’s ability to bring even the strongest of us to our knees, and Oscar’s skill with not only the human psyche, but torture devices as well, they’re unstoppable.

  “Tell them to back the fuck off.”

  We stare at each other for a few beats before he says, “She’s strong, mentally. That’s how she was able to get Lucius’s thugs to untie her. She was able to persuade them.”

  “Son of a bitch,” I mutter. That’s a rare power. Even rarer than having four strong mind invaders. “What were you able to get out of her?”

  “Not much.”

  “But you got in?”

  “I’m guessing by your tone you haven’t?” There’s surprise in his voice and I growl.

  “No I fucking haven’t. Now tell me.” The fact that my younger brother was able to get into her mind when I couldn’t bugs the shit out of me.

  “She tried to persuade me.”

  I scoff.

  “She doesn’t know about us, brother. She might suspect you and Phillip are stronger, being the eldest two, but she doesn’t know our family legacy.”

  “The bastard really kept her in the dark about her enemy? Jesus, maybe he wanted us to kill her eventually.”

  “She thought I would have had a weaker will.”

  “She was obviously wrong.” Just because he’s twenty years younger than me does not make Michael weaker. In fact he’s stronger than I was at that age.

  “While she was busy weakening herself I was able to slip in. She hates that you were with Cindi.” I snort. “She’s scared. She cares for her companion, Kylie. And she won’t stop until she’s dead.”

  “Maybe I need to bring Sheila in after all. She won’t want death once she’s had a piece of her.”

  There’s a knock at the door and I nod to Michael to open it.

  My mother glides in the room and I have to repress a groan. “You and your brothers will be present at supper at dusk. No excuses.” She says in her cold voice.

  She has no affection for her only child. The only thing that connects the two of us together is our bright blond hair.

  Being so young when she turned it is easy to see why Lucius was smitten with her. Bright blue eyes, long flowing hair, and golden complexion.

  I often wonder how she is in bed. I wonder if she was this cold when the two of them met. As spending fifty years with a person, one as jaded and hateful as Lucius must mean you get along in some fashion.

  Even if it is just sex.

  “We’ll be there.” I say, coldly.

  She nods, turns her nose up at Michael and leaves the room.

  “Get some sleep. I need to make sure Jamal is okay to watch the princess until Phillip is finished with our men. I won’t take any more chances.”

  “I’ll see you at dinner then.” Michael takes his leave and I let out a breath.

  Grabbing a full bottle of whiskey I sit on the long leather sofa in the corner of the room. Too worn out to make another trip upstairs. With the course of the past few days I’ll have to be down here soon anyway. I’m under no delusions that I’ll be able to sleep through the day.

  After I finish doing what needs to be done I drain half the bottle of whiskey before I allow myself to fall asleep.

  ____________

  Supper is the fucking joke I knew it was going to be. Lucius, my mother, and my brothers’ mother sit at one end of the long table. We sit at the other.

  The chef carts in a roast, that while, it smells amazing won’t be eaten. The thought of putting anything in my mouth that Lucius chose turns my stomach.

  While we don’t need food it’s always nice to savor the flavor of some things.

  There was a blood drive for the blood d
onors today, plenty of freshly bagged blood. That’s what is currently being sipped from my glass.

  “You boys are getting arrogant.” Helen tells her sons.

  “How so, Mother?” Oscar asks.

  “For starters you’re acting like you’re better than us.” She sneers. “I suppose that’s your fault?” She directs her cool green gaze to me.

  I say nothing.

  “You were asked a question,” my mother snaps.

  The fact that the two of them gang up on us is amazing. Neither cares that we’re their spawn. They just want to keep the bastard who fucks them happy.

  You wouldn’t think Helen would be happy that Lucius has another woman he treats better than his own wife.

  But that is not the case.

  “And if it is? I am the heir, no? My brothers should be loyal to me.”

  “You might be heir but you do not run this coven.” Lucius says lowly. “If I don’t start getting the respect I deserve there won’t be a fucking heir to this coven.”

  Our father just threatened to kill us, and our mothers sit and say nothing. Lovely family.

  Who is watching the princess? I ask Phillip.

  Mason and Carter. Anthony and Preston are with the other.

  Four of our most loyal men. They’re strong, mentally and physically.

  Dinner resumes and no matter how many times they try to get me to engage I don’t say a word.

  “Phillip, when are you and Sheila going to give us some grandchildren?” Helen asks.

  My brother and his wife freeze.

  “We haven’t discussed it, Mother. We’re not ready to be parents.”

  “You’ve been together for over twenty years. What do you mean you’re not ready?”

  “Exactly that. We’re not ready.”

  “Hmmm.” Helen muses.

  Sheila in a tone that is full of malice says, “I’m not like you two,” she motions to our mothers, “I have more to give to my husband than a spawn. I’m not a whore.”

  The steak knife goes flying through the air as Sheila’s words ring through the room. With easy fingers Sheila plucks it from mid-air and stabs it into the cherry wood table.

  “You’re going to have to do better than that.” My sister says in her harshest tone. “You think I’m going to have a child because some old hags want me to?” I hear Phillip suck in a breath. Not even I can stop what happens next.

  Lucius is across the table before anyone can move. He picks Sheila up by the throat. His fingers squeeze.

  We all stand but we don’t move. She can handle herself. Which she proves as seemingly out of nowhere she pulls out a knife and stabs it into the back of his hand.

  Lucius roars and throws Sheila across the room, that’s when Oscar and Phillip charge him and the force of their bodies has Lucius flying backwards, the sound of the cherry wood table cracking under the force is all that can be heard.

  Michael is blocking the path of the wives, he has one hand on each of them. I shoot my mother a look that dares her to interfere.

  My boot meets Lucius’s neck and I loom over him.

  “If you ever touch her again death would be too kind. You better watch yourself, Lucius, your clock is ticking.”

  And with that I leave the room, my brothers and sister following in my wake.

  ____________

  It’s later in my office where I’m sharing a drink with Phillip. Sheila is in their room, probably sharpening her knives. Oscar and Michael are on guard duty for the time being.

  “You better sleep with one eye open, brother.” Phillip says. “He’s not going to take it well to you threatening him.”

  “I’m always threatening him.”

  “This is different, brother. We all know it.”

  “You’re correct. But do not even try blaming it on the princess. We knew things were changing long before that.”

  “You are correct.”

  “So tell me,” I take a long, much needed drink of my whiskey. “When have you and Sheila discussed children?”

  Phillip sighs and downs his own tumbler. “When Michael was five. We’ve revisited the issues a few times since then, but the conclusion has been the same. We need to at least wait until Lucius is dead.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think? It’s not like you’re going to take up with a mate anytime soon. And even if you did the chances of you sireing an heir are slim.

  If I were the first to produce the next generation, it would be all that more motivation for Lucius to get rid of you.”

  “Do the other two know?” I ask.

  “No. And why should they? What I do with my wife is my business.”

  “Perhaps they may feel differently.”

  “You’ve always done that, you know. Always denied the type of loyalty and respect we have for you. Yes, you’re the son of a whore but you still share our blood. Your ability to crack open even the thickest of defenses and those silver eyes glaring at me now are proof of that.”

  “Thank you, Phillip. That means a lot.”

  “So you’re not a heartless bastard?”

  “Oh fuck off. I’ll still kill you.”

  “There’s the brother I know and tolerate.”

  We let the silence overcome us, but it’s not awkward. It’s the type of silence that doesn’t need to be filled.

  While I can’t say I understand those flowery words most humans and some Supernaturals throw around, I do have a deep bond with all of my brothers.

  “What will happen when Lucius is dead and our coven is divided? Lucius’s allies are many and I’m sure I can persuade many to our side instead of his, but what of those who turn on us? What of that bastard Carr?”

  “One thing at a time, brother. I think, we should leave the princess be for now. Let her sit in her cell, starving and weak. Unable to escape. No knowledge of her companion.”

  “I can see the wheels turning, Phillip. I like it.”

  Yes, I like it a whole lot. Isolation does funny things to a person. Especially an immortal whose primary source of nourishment is a living thing.

  The way we’ve been going at this is all wrong.

  We need to break her. Slowly, efficiently, and brutally.

  The lust I feel for this bitch hasn’t gone away, but I have better things to worry about than my cock.

  Even if it doesn’t agree.

  Yes, this is the direction we will go for now.

  Leave our new pets alone while working on ensuring we have enough backing for a quick and mildly painless take over.

  I need to secure my coven before I can do anything else.

  After that, then I will work on figuring out how to take down that English bastard, and if I can use his daughter to do it? Even sweeter.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Ava

  SILENCE IS THE ONLY THING THAT reaches my ears in my God forsaken box. The four walls of the storage room I have been left in are windowless and crammed. I know guards are posted outside. Every so often an unfamiliar sound penetrates my solitude but they never come in.

  I’ve lost track of time.

  Uncomfortably I try to flex my jaw. The muscles are aching from the use of the rubber ball gag that Damien’s brother used to keep me quiet which is still fastened around my mouth.

  With it forced open unnaturally for so long I have no control. An overload of saliva is trailing down my chin. I know it’s only going to get worse. It’s dirty and disgusting as it drips down the clean white shirt.

  Believing him the weaker minded of the bunch was a mistake. Trying my persuasion got me nowhere fast.

  Flexing my fingers which are still tied behind my back the burn of the silver cuts into my wrists. I hate this place. Although, it’s nothing like the metal dog cages and the basement my father used, it still comes close.

  The heaviness in my limbs is a sign on how weak I am. Head bowed the fall of my long wavy hair hides my face like a welcome curtain.

  I’m so tired.

 
; Fighting sleep has now become a war. Trusting these bastards not to touch me if I do is not something I can risk.

  I’m drained. Left to fend off the demons that would swallow me down into a panic attack if I let them.

  Kylie hasn’t responded to any of my telepathic calls. The not knowing if she is still alive is eating at me, along with guilt.

  Screwing my eyes shut I concentrate on my breathing. In out, in out, in deep breaths through my nose.

  Escape physically is now an impossibility. Shut away in here and left to starve I know I will eventually go mad.

  I’m left with one choice.

  My father and the bloodline of Carr are powerful persuaders. Even the most unbending of minds soon fall to his sway. It’s why he was able to climb so far. Why the Rochesters have never been able to take him out. The gift I inherited through his genes. But what no one knows is somehow my mother’s legacy is also mine to wield.

  An ability I have only used a handful of times. A secret kept out of fear. One I know Jonathan Carr would kill to possess if I ever revealed it. Something that would be coveted by all.

  Centering myself I focus everything I am inwards. I must have practised this meditation a million times at home when I was punished to fill the hours and days until someone came to release me.

  Heart beating. The thud of my own organ becomes a soothing rhythm in my ears. Relaxing I let myself go.

  Suddenly I’m weightless. For a second my consciousness is overwhelmed. Gone is the awareness of pain, tiredness, touch and smell. I am nothing now but an intangible ghost.

  Glancing back down I inspect the exhausted body that houses me. This won’t last long. The longer I am absent the weaker I will become.

  The shaking has already started. Only trembling for now, but will eventually morph into seizures.

  Bodiless just moving with a thought I pass through the door. Two guards stand on either side. Not bothering to waste my time on those fuckers I find my way up onto another floor. No need for stairs when you can travel through walls and floors.

  A need to find Kylie bolsters my determination. Getting the layout to this mansion is also something I do not give up an opportunity to posses. Any knowledge on what these bastards are holding me can only work in my favour.