Bloody Ties

by Claire Marta

I had been wrong to feel sheltered in Damien’s arms even in my weakened state. He is a monster. More tears threaten but I hold them at bay.

  I want to kill them all starting off with the red headed bitch. Then I will work my way through the Rochester brothers until only Damien is left.

  I’ve never tortured anyone in my life. The thought of what my father does on a daily basis as part of his business has always appalled me. But the need to seek revenge on this silver eyed self-assured bastard is almost as strong as my need for blood.

  It would be something slow. A task I would take pleasure in. Keep him lingering for days as I took my fill of tormenting him. Breaking him would become my ambition. A desire to make him suffer as he had done to me.

  “What the fuck was...I mean how the hell did she…”

  “Not here.” Damien’s voice is sharp, silencing Oscar. “This stays between us.”

  “What? What happened?” Sheila asks in irritation.

  “We’ll fill you in when we get back to the office. We have a lot to discuss in private where we can’t be overheard.”

  “What about the princess?”

  I don’t look up. The awareness of eyes on me sends goosebumps skittering over my bruised and bloodied skin. One pair burns through me more intense than the rest.

  “Take her to my wing of the house. Keep her tied up and make sure she’s fed again in two hours.” Damien’s reply is soft and thoughtful.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Damien

  “I THOUGHT THEY WERE ALL DEAD.” Sheila says softly. That’s the only reaction she has after my brothers and I took turns discussing what we discovered in the darkness of Ava’s mind.

  “Explain, sister.”

  “When Supernaturals first began evolving and developing their abilities, when the covens were first established and before our kind understood the importance of legacy and dominant abilities, there were many mental abilities that were considered sacred.

  You four know the legacy of the Rochester line. One of the oldest abilities in our world.

  You know my own family legacy is rare, and though we are considered thugs, my family still belongs to one of the most prestigious covens.” We all nod, because this isn’t news to us. “But many families were killed in the fight for power, their legacies wiped out, the memory of their abilities only in textbooks and those old enough to remember what it was like when the world was still in flames.”

  The oldest of us all, Sheila has seen and witnessed more than she’ll ever admit. Her family has been doing the dirty work for mine since the establishment of our coven. It would make sense she knows more than we do.

  “As far as I know, the last family to be able to travel their subconscious died out over sixty years ago.”

  “Obviously not,” Oscar drawls. “The princess is the same age as Michael here.”

  “Yes. That makes it even more puzzling. It seems that not only does she posses the infamous Carr legacy, but that of one thought to be extinct as well. It’s very curious. We need to find out what her mother’s family name was. That was the one thing you did not get.”

  “Perhaps she doesn’t know it. The things Jonathan did to her...” I grimace.

  “Whoever the mother was, she came from a powerful family, one that could still be in hiding. That would make a strong ally for you.” Sheila points out.

  She makes an excellent point. Until a week ago we didn’t know who Jonathan Carr’s heir was. Only that he had one, we don’t know if he mated with a woman from a family in his coven, or if he turned a whore. But turned vampires don’t possess our abilities, and Ava Carr clearly has inherited abilities.

  “We’ll table this discussion until the princess is strong enough to have a conversation. For now, what shall we do about Lucius?” I’m not really asking, there’s only one solution.

  “Kill him, obviously.” Phillip says. “But how. And how to keep us from crumbling to a civil war is the question.”

  “So it is.” I agree.

  “It’s not surprising. We all knew that he would not let you inherit the coven. Somehow, someway it was going to come to this.” Michael reminds us.

  It’s a sobering truth.

  “We need to start establishing allies. Phillip, get me a meeting with the coven leaders of Chicago, and Seattle.”

  “Will do.”

  “Keep converting as many men as you can. Michael take Sheila up to bathe and dress the princess.

  Oscar, you’re with me, we need to interrogate the companion. Make sure that the princess’s memories aren’t corrupted.

  And if any of you feel Lucius near, at any time, make sure you call for me.”

  Down the hall from my office is a small windowless room that houses Ava’s feisty companion. We’ve kept her so weak she can’t even stay awake.

  A quick cut on my palm spills enough blood to wake her. It only gives her enough strength to wake and have a coherent conversation—not that we’re here for conversation.

  She gasps and cold blue eyes open to meet mine.

  “Ava? What the fuck did you do to her?” She snarls.

  “Such a feisty woman, aren’t you doll?”

  She fights her bindings, my blood giving her strength she hasn’t felt in a while. The silver wires cut into her wrists and hands, burning her flesh, making her bleed, scarring her skin.

  Oscar ties a longer, thicker piece of wire to the one that binds her hands, then using a stool for added height he attaches it to a hook in the ceiling. The move forces Kylie out of the chair she was sitting in, her feet barely graze the floor.

  Oscar cuts her tattered and bloody shirt off her body, exposing small breasts and a well toned frame.

  She has a soldier’s body, slightly broader shoulders, well defined abdominal muscles. Everything about her screams warrior.

  “Where the fuck is Ava?” She tries to swing and kick me, her legs are tied together with more wire. The movement causes the wire to cut into her flesh. She hisses.

  “That’s none of your concern.” I say, “I need answers from you.”

  “I’m not giving you shit.” She spits. Blood escapes her lips as she uses all her energy and the small amount of strength I gave her trying to escape.

  “Oh but see, I already know everything, I just need you to verify it.”

  “What do you mean?” She looks terrified for my answer.

  “I mean I did the impossible. I broke the princess.”

  “No,” she whispers. “No! What the fuck did you do?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I taunt. “Now, you can either tell me what I want to know, or we can do this the hard way. I’m fine either way. But it’s been a long night, my brother and I are tired. We would rather not exert any more energy than we have to.”

  “I’m not telling you shit,” she tries to propel her body outwards toward me, but she doesn’t have the energy.

  “Very well.” I uncoil my favorite whip.

  Unlike Sheila with her knives and Oscar with his toys, I have very different, very simple methods of torture.

  The tips of my cat o’ nine tails glem with silver razors. Specially made for me from a man in Italy.

  Taking a few steps back I experimentally flick my wrist. It makes a wonderfully satisfying cracking sound.

  With a quick movement I flick the whip against Kylie’s exposed torso. She doesn’t make a sound as the silver makes contact with her smooth flesh and the blood wells.

  Over and over again until her front is a bloody mess, and not a sound out of her.

  Throwing the whip down in frustration I say, “Are you ready to give up? Are you have to do is let your defenses down, we’ll do the rest.”

  In truth I could probably break her mentally, but after what we did to Ava I can’t afford to lose so much energy.

  “Go ahead.” I tell Oscar. My voice is soft, almost calm. Unlike my insides which are turning my outside resembles a man who has his shit together.

  My brother wheels the small medi
cal tray in front of Kylie so she can see what is on it.

  Four different syringes lie on the tray. “What the hell are you doing?” she whispers. Her voice trembles.

  “This one,” I hold up the syringe with gentle fingers as it’s still burning, “is melted silver. This,” I hold up the other, “is the only antidote to such a thing.”

  “Which one of you bastards is that?”

  “Mine.” I hold up the syringe filled with my blood. “If you give us the answers we want without force you’ll get the full syringe. If not, only half. Which means only half of the silver will be flushed from your system before it reaches your heart.”

  And with that Oscar stabs her in the leg with one of the syringes and the screams start right away.

  I wait a few seconds before I insert the needle into one of the veins in her arm. I only empty it halfway. “Are we going to do this the hard way? Or the easy way?”

  “Go...to...hell…” she croaks.

  “Oh darling,” I whisper, “I’m already there.”

  Oscar pokes the second syringe into the vein of her neck, as the silver enters her bloodstream and she screams I invade her defenseless mind.

  It only takes a minute, maybe a few seconds less before I have everything I need.

  I empty the rest of the first blood filled syringe then stab the other directly into her heart to prevent the silver from getting there first.

  “So it’s true.” I say low. “The princess really does have two abilities and her father really does want to breed her off. Very interesting.”

  “Clean her up then get yourself to bed. I have business with Jamal and then hopefully I’m unavailable for the whole night.”

  “Shouldn’t we discuss this with the others, brother?”

  “After dusk. We’ve all had long days. We need to rest when we can.”

  Oscar nods and I leave the room.

  My right hand follows me silently to the second floor. I don’t speak until we’re in my wing of the manor.

  “Rest my friend, I have much to discuss with you in the coming days. Know, I’ll need you more than ever.”

  “Let me help.”

  “There’s nothing for you to do.”

  Jamal may be a big man, he may be old, but he’s still turned. He has no ability for me to use and abuse.

  My family is being torn apart, I’m running my siblings ragged, but there is no way around it.

  In the middle of my hall of rooms is the smallest bedroom. That’s where I find Ava tied to the large bed.

  She’s washed, her long hair lays damp around her head. She wears a white nightgown that I’m sure belongs to Sheila.

  “She hasn’t woken. You four did a number on her.” Sheila says from the plush chair in the corner.

  “You’ve given her blood?”

  “Half a bag.”

  “Fresh?”

  “Three days old.”

  “Good enough.”

  “Is her story correct?”

  “Yes. I had hoped that most of it were scornful memories of an abused girl, but no, everything that she remembers—even the things she didn’t but were hiding in the recess of her mind—were true.”

  “Shit. Even I’m not so heartless that I don’t feel something for the girl. I still want to cut her nipples off though.”

  I laugh, a genuine laugh that nowadays doesn’t make an appearance. Trust my sister to know how to elicit one from me.

  “What? It’s not like you care for breasts anyway.” She grumbles.

  “Go spread the news of what Oscar and I discovered. The take your husband to bed. We all need some rest.”

  Sheila stands and hands me a thick book. “Stole it from Lucius’s study when Michael was hauling her up here. Thought you’d find it interesting. Some more history about mental abilities and the families that held them strong. I only read a few pages. Maybe it will help explain why she has not one, but two abilities, and why she’s able to keep you out.”

  I take the book and Sheila leaves the room.

  Pouring a glass of whiskey from the bottle she left behind I sit in the chair and glance at the bed.

  Asleep Ava almost looks like the princess we say she is. Of course our use of the word ‘princess’ is degrading.

  Getting comfortable I sit back with my drink and begin reading.

  Ava

  “Ava, honey.”

  Lips brush my forehead in a loving kiss.

  “Baby, you have to promise me you’ll keep quiet, they can’t know about this okay. We have to keep quiet like the little mice in that book you love so much.”

  Staring guilelessly up into my mother’s sweet face I nod. What we are doing is very bad. Even so young I know this.

  Clutching my smaller hand tightly she hurries me along the empty, silent corridor. Her curly chestnut hair bounces around her shoulders as we move. I love the dress she’s wearing, something blue and swirling. A princess dress to match my own.

  “I’m sorry this is happening now while Kylie is away…but I can’t, won’t stay here any longer. This is our only chance.” Her words apologetic and scared.

  “Mummy, I’m frightened.” Tears fill my eyes. I don’t want her to get hurt. I’ve seen the monster’s rage.

  I know what he does to her even though I don’t understand it. I have seen the pain he causes.

  Felt it to.

  “Ava, no.” Tugging me into an alcove her skirts rustle as she crouches. “I promise you won’t ever be frightened again. I’m taking you to your grandfather and he’ll keep us safe.”

  “My grandfather?”

  A smile touches her lips, but it doesn’t hide the sad look deep in her eyes. “You have cousins too.”

  I’ve never had anyone else before to call family apart from Mother and Kylie. To read me bedtimes stories and play games.

  “Why haven’t I seen them before?”

  “They don’t know where I am or even about you. Jonathan...your father stole me when I was out one evening and locked me away. Took me because I caught his eye even though he had no idea who I was.

  This place is nothing but a pretty cage, Ava, but tonight we are going to fly free.” Rising she begins to hurry with a renewed vigor.

  I want to ask more questions but I don’t. We need to leave before anyone realises we are gone.

  Our footsteps are loud on the marble staircase as we descended two steps at a time. The guards are nowhere to be seen. Not seeing them makes my stomach feel funny. Queasy, like I might throw up. I know that there’s something wrong.

  “And where the fuck do you think you’re going, whore?”

  The voice that terrorizes me in both nightmares and my waking hours bellows from the library door.

  Mother freezes as the colour drains from her face.

  Stalking from the darkness of his favorite room Jonathan Carr emerges from its depths. Rage twists his features as his cold eyes spear us in place.

  “Jon...Jonathan I thought you were away.” Gripping my slim shoulder she pushes me protectively behind her skirts.

  “I bet you did.” Father’s lips curl in a sneer. “Did you think I wouldn’t guess at your plan? Think I would miss your eagerness, Rachel, when I said I was heading abroad on business unlike all the other times I’ve gone?”

  I want to runaway. Take my mother by the hand and run as fast as we can go but I know it won’t help. He’s fast and strong.

  “I..I…”

  “I made you my prized whore. Gave you luxury and money and this is how I get repaid?” His attention drops to where I am hiding. “Even when I had to tolerate the fact you didn’t give me a male heir, but a little bitch instead.”

  As he begins to advance my mother backs us up, almost stumbling over me in the process.

  Clutching the back of her dress I press my face into the small of her back. I’ve never seen the monster this angry before. Every hair on my body is standing on end in fear. He’s going to hurt us.

  A deadly shifting in the air
makes my stomach churn even more and I know it’s going to be worse than anything we’ve had to endure.

  In a blur he’s on my mother before I have time to think. Wrapping the soft brown curls of her hair around his fist he drags her viciously back towards the library.

  “Mummy! Mummy!” Nimble and fast I pummel my fists against his legs. The blow I receive in response sends me to the floor.

  “Don’t hurt my baby. Please just leave her be.” Mother pleads.

  Lights blaze on as they enter and even though my head hurts from the force I was hit I scramble up to follow.

  Hugging the door frame I watch helplessly and scared.

  Blood is oozing all over the wooden floor. Thick and starting to congeal it’s already growing cold. Throat slit the sightless eyes of a guard I’ve seen my mother talking to stare skyward.

  With a whimper of pain she is forced to her knees in the crimson puddle next to the corpse. It stains her dress, darkening the fabric of the decedent blue gown.

  Grasping her jaw my father wrenches her head up.

  “Take a good fucking look. That’s what happens when someone else puts their cock in one of the whores I keep in my bed.”

  His anger is building into a rage. Eyes bulging, the throbbing vein in his temple looks as if it might just explode.

  “What did you expect? That I would never find someone? Even here, in this prison you call a home, who would treat me with some kindness? A gentle touch?” My mother’s voice is bitter. “I’ve never wanted you. I’ve never wanted to be here. I’ve had no choice but to tolerate you taking my body over and over like a rutting animal because you want a boy-child but with no success.”

  “And you’re even useless in that department aren’t you, Rachel? One offspring that’s all you can manage. Even with a girl she hasn’t inherited your powers.”

  The gasp that leave my mother is shocked. “You...you know?”

  Releasing his hold on her hair he leaves her to retrieve the glass of alcohol off his desk.

  “Oh darling, do you really think I didn’t?” His laugh is ironic. “The hours I’ve wasted balls deep in that cunt of yours only to fail is a joke.”

  Mother’s gaze finds mine. It’s quick a warning.

  Beginning to sob I nod. Our secret is something I have to keep.