Wolf Games: Severed Fates (The Vampire Games Book 6)

by Caroline Peckham

  The tears continued, hot and fast, rushing down my cheeks.

  No, this can't be happening.

  I hugged my knees, rocking back and forth until I found enough strength to stop crying. If Silas had done this, maybe he could undo it. I gazed at the stone wall before me, letting the small possibility fill me up.

  He can come back. He will come back to me.

  Jameson

  I took a tube of Larkspur from my pack, rubbing it over my broken nose, heat spreading up the bone. Probably shouldn't have stepped in, but those guards had been handling that girl like she was a terrorist.

  Ulvic followed me into my room and slammed the door, pressing his back to it, his eyes wild.

  “Who the hell was that?” I demanded. “And don't you lie to me.” I pointed the tube at him and he sighed, slumping against the door.

  “She's a prisoner here,” he said.

  “And?” I growled.

  “And what?” he muttered.

  “And she knew who I was! She started spurting some crazy shit at me, Ulvic. She said we...” I trailed off, shaking my head. That we were in love. Which would just be plain crazy if my heart hadn't reacted to her like an atomic bomb going off. I didn't want to admit it, but she did seem damn familiar. I just couldn't place her.

  I scrubbed the back of my neck where my hair had been shaved away. “Tell me the truth. I saw the way you looked at her. You know who she is.”

  Ulvic folded his arms, composing himself. “She burned down Rockley's old resort. She's here as punishment. You met her in the V Games, that's all.”

  “Then we should help her,” I said, stepping forward.

  “No,” he snarled. “She isn't our concern anymore. Our relationship with Rockley is more important than one girl.”

  “She's pregnant,” I said in disbelief of his reaction. “And she was covered in cuts. What the hell is Rockley doing to her?” My stomach rolled. Confusion rattled through my brain. Something was wrong here. Ulvic was getting too damn defensive about this. But why? What was he keeping from me?

  “I don't know, but whatever it is it's clearly driven her insane,” he said softly. “I'm sorry, but we can't help her.” He opened the door and I nodded, pretending I was giving in. But I wasn't. If Ulvic wasn't going to give me the answers I was looking for, I'd have to get them myself.

  He shut the door and I waited for him to return to his room. When I was certain he was gone, I slipped into the corridor, heading next door and tapping my knuckles against Nadine's door.

  She opened it, her face pale as I stepped into her room, pushing the door shut behind me. My pulse was all over the place. I needed answers, dammit. Who was that girl with the crimson hair and fierce green eyes? Definitely seemed like my type. I mean, shit, she was a ten out ten in my books. And what if she hadn't been lying?

  “Who was that girl? Ulvic's lying to me, I know it.” I scraped a hand through my hair, moving to Nadine's messed-up bed and dropping onto the edge of it.

  Nadine shook her head. “I don't...I can't...”

  My brows shot up. “You can't what?”

  She folded her arms across the little black nighty she was wearing.

  “I don't know who she is,” she breathed, shaking her head.

  I frowned. Why did she look so damn tortured right now?

  “She's obviously a prisoner here,” she went on.

  State the obvious much? “Yeah and Ulvic says not to help her. Which goes against every bone in my body.”

  Nadine nodded, gazing at me with sadness in her eyes.

  “Say something,” I demanded. What was the matter with her?

  She swallowed, stepping closer. “You're right, we should help her. But I don't know how. It's practically a fortress here, Jameson.”

  I chewed on my lip, mulling over some ideas. Nadine was right. It wouldn't be easy getting her out of here. But surely I had to try? I couldn't let Rockley continue to torture her. The idea set my blood boiling.

  “You'll help me?” I asked, my brow furrowing.

  “I'll try,” she promised. “But we can't do anything tonight. It's too risky.”

  I gave in, knowing she was right. The redhead would be under close watch tonight.

  My heart twitched uncomfortably. She'd had a chance to escape, but she'd come here instead. I must have been important enough to her to risk it. Women had fallen for me before. Maybe she was just hung up on me. But that didn't mean I didn't care about what happened to her.

  I stood and Nadine moved closer, wrapping her arms around me. “Get some sleep, Jameson. We'll talk about it tomorrow.”

  I nodded sullenly, heading back to my room and dropping down onto the bed with a huff.

  I shook my head, thinking over what the redhead had told me. Ulvic wouldn't hurt my pack. That was crazy. Maybe she had gone insane. But that didn't mean I was okay with Rockley Jones hurting her. It wasn't my style to let anyone be imprisoned and cut up like a piece of meat. Especially not a pregnant girl.

  Forgetting about her was impossible and it took me a long time to fall back asleep. And when I did, I found her in my dreams, her skin like moonlight.

  Fireflies danced around me, skimming through a jungle of dark trees. The crimson-haired girl stood before me in a dark green gown, flowing down to her bare feet. She smiled at me like we were old friends, moving toward a river at the base of a small hill.

  I followed, my heart tugging me after her. She slid out of the dress, letting it pool around her feet. A lump lodged in my throat at the sight of her bare body, her flawless skin practically glowing as she stepped into the water.

  I watched her sink deeper and deeper until the water was up to her shoulders. Turning, she gestured for me to follow, a playful smile on her lips.

  I hounded after her into the water, leaving my clothes in place, wanting to close the distance between us as quickly as possible.

  As I approached, she slid her arms around my neck, gazing into my eyes.

  My heart thumped out of tune. Every part of me wanted her. I reached out to wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

  She glanced up and I followed her gaze to where the green and gold fireflies buzzed overhead. She moved even closer, wrapping her legs around me, her mouth falling to my ear.

  A breath floated over my neck as she spoke, setting my pulse racing. “They can't control our hearts.”

  Mercy

  We'd been travelling for three days on horseback, camping during the night. Sharing a tent with Colt whilst tethered to his wrist was about as relaxing as trying to sleep next to an angry tiger. The exhaustion and the cold were enough to drive me insane. But I had to bide my time for another chance to escape.

  I rode on the stallion, sitting in front of Colt as he locked his arms around me to hold the reins. I leant against his shoulder, the lulling sensation of riding sending me to sleep.

  Colt's rough voice soon sounded in my ear, “Wake up.”

  I jarred upright but met resistance as his arms tightened around me.

  “We're here,” he said more softly and I gazed out at the sight before us.

  The forest had thinned around us and the hazy morning light filtered over a small stone cottage with a beautiful rose garden leading up to the front door. A path cut between the bushes. Colt hopped down, tying the horse to the fence and Lynch did the same. I turned, slipping off of the horse and dropping down beside Colt.

  I gazed into the trees behind us, no sign of a road to be seen.

  No point in running. Not yet.

  Lynch smoothed his moustache down with a finger and thumb, his beady eyes honed on me. He gave me a twisted smile that made my insides churn.

  Colt opened the gate with a whining of hinges and Lynch prodded me in the side to make me follow. I headed after Colt, wanting to put as much space between me and Lynch as possible.

  Colt walked up to the door, lifting his fist to knock, but it opened before he could.

  A middle-aged man appeared, his hair
bright violet and curled up into a bun atop his head. He was short and pudgy and had a floral apron tied around his waist.

  “Ah, I have been expecting you,” he said. “Come on in. I have a pie cooling in the kitchen and there's tea in the pot.”

  “Montague, we don't have much time,” Colt said as we shuffled after him into the house.

  It was quaint with flowers everywhere, some in vases and others drying, hanging from a cord above a narrow staircase. The scent of apples and pastry filled my nose and my stomach growled hungrily.

  Montague chuckled. “See? Mercy is hungry. You must all have a slice of my famous apple pie.”

  “How do you know my name?” I frowned.

  “Guy knows everything,” Lynch muttered. “Gives me the creeps.”

  “He's an Oracle,” Colt explained.

  “Yes, yes, less chat, more chew.” Montague waved us through to a kitchen where a large lattice-topped pie was sitting at the heart of a wooden table. He gestured for us to sit and we slid into seats around it. The kitchen was small and had a country feel to it. It was strange to be in such a place after my weeks confined to an attic. It almost felt homely, even though my home had been nothing like this.

  Montague served out huge chunks of pie for each of us and laid out cups of tea in little floral teacups.

  I tucked into the pie, not waiting for everyone else to start. I'd been eating beans out of tins since we'd left Alfric's home. This was a heaven-send in comparison.

  The pie was sweet and the pastry melted in my mouth like butter.

  Montague gazed at me keenly, his eyes like two shining pennies.

  “Well, isn't this a treat?” he said, clasping his hands together. “But I know what you're here to ask me, and I don't know if I'm happy giving the answer.”

  Lynch drew his pistol, laying it threateningly on the table. “Well, you ain't gonna get much choice in that, old man.”

  Montague pursed his lips. “If you mean to surprise me, it cannot be done. But...I foresee you pulling that trigger, Lynch. So I will have to do as you say, I suppose, lest my walls be painted red with my blood.” He said it simply as if the idea wasn't terrifying to him.

  “Hand it over then,” Montague said, holding out a palm to Colt and he reached into his jacket on cue, taking out a black shirt and passing it over.

  I frowned, watching the strange display. Montague gripped the shirt, pressed it to his nose then his eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped back in his chair as if he'd fallen unconscious.

  I glanced at Colt in alarm.

  “He's having a vision,” Colt muttered.

  I'd heard of Oracles, but I'd never met one. They were capable of seeing the future, the present and the past. But only in small doses, as I recalled.

  Lynch tucked into his pie as Montague started to twitch and jerk in his chair. With a yelp, his eyes flew open and he sat upright, sweat gleaming on his brow.

  “Where is he?” Colt demanded.

  “Wales, he's in Wales – the old Halkyn mine in the north. Oh...Lord. Oh, Lord.” He continued to mutter to himself. “I wouldn't go there if I were you, what a terrible place. And such bloodshed...Oh Lord.”

  Colt stood, snapping his fingers at Lynch. “Let's go.”

  “Wait,” Montague protested. “I do not offer my services for nothing.”

  Lynch picked up his pistol.

  “I see two fates here, one where you shoot me, the other where I have my way. I sense your leniency Colt so I will appeal to your better nature. Let me touch the Helsing girl. Just for a moment. Her fate intrigues me somewhat.”

  I stiffened. “Touch me?” I wrinkled my nose.

  “To get a reading, that's all. I wish to get a feel for your fate.”

  I ground my teeth, not much liking the idea of that. But Colt seemed to think it was the best option between that or Lynch planting a bullet in Montague's skull. He waved a hand at Montague and he stood, hurrying around the table toward me, licking his lips.

  I was a little grossed out as he rested a hand on the back of my neck. I glanced up at him and his eyes rolled back, his shoulders slumping as that same gormless look took over his face again. I shuddered then a spike of pain flared through my skull. I lost all function of my body and slid down in my chair, my eyes rolling up into my head.

  Pain burrowed into my brain like a drill. A scream escaped my throat, but I was frozen in place, my body weighing me down like lead.

  Montague released me and I regained feeling, the pain dying in a wave.

  “You didn't tell me it would hurt,” I bit at him, but he only smiled.

  “Then you wouldn't have been so willing, my dear.” He eyed me curiously, his smile dropping.

  “So?” I pressed. “What did you see?”

  Montague glanced at the other men, seeming reluctant to say too much.

  “Can we have a moment alone?”

  “No,” Colt said firmly, folding his arms. “I don't want you giving her any ideas.”

  Montague sighed, his eyes meeting mine again. “You have two possible fates, my dear. Neither are pretty, but only one will lead you to salvation. Only on one path, will you live. The other...” He frowned. “Leads to death. Though it is not a death without valour, I can tell you that.”

  “Comforting,” I muttered. “What's the other option?”

  Montague tutted. “Oh my, you have such controversy inside you. The choices you make on your journey will lead you one way or another. If you choose well, life will await you. But if you choose poorly...” He shrugged.

  “What else can you tell me? I need details,” I insisted, trying not to be rattled by his words.

  Montague glanced at the men before lowering his voice to a whisper. “Trust the dark-haired one. He will lead you to a path of greatness. Not without trials. Oh Lord no, the trials will be murderous. I cannot say for sure you will survive them. It is too far along your path for me to see clearly, the fate has not yet been set in stone.”

  “So I could still die even if I choose well?” I asked in alarm.

  “We can always die, my dear. Our fate can change at the drop of a hat. Like Lynch's gun, here. I chose well today, otherwise I would be splattered across my nice clean kitchen right now. But...if you walk this path you are on, you will meet a great fork in your fate. One road to death, the other to life. The first road already awaits. The wheels of time are already taking you there. It cannot be changed, not unless you make the right choice. So when the time comes, you must take the other path.”

  “You're confusing the hell outta me,” Lynch remarked and I had to admit, I was confused, too.

  I didn't like the idea that I was going to come up against some great test soon. But at least I knew I could place my faith in Colt, for the time being anyway.

  “Enough with the prophesies,” Colt said irritably. “I hate the shit.” He gestured for me to get up, then glanced at Montague. “We're going to borrow your boat.”

  “Oh yes, I knew that. I felt my fate twist the day before last, so I had it prepared for you. It's just out back on the river.”

  “Great,” Colt muttered, heading toward me and taking my arm to guide me out of the kitchen.

  Montague guided us to the back of the house and through a small back door which led into a sprawling garden of wild flowers.

  “Beautiful, aren't they?” Montague remarked. “A flower is a flower, is a flower. It has no fate to be concerned with. Well, apart from flowering.” He chuckled, as he guided us through a high wall of rose bushes to a small pier leading onto a narrow river. He unlocked a small gate and gestured for us to go ahead. “The key is in the ignition and I stocked the cabin with food. I'll look after the horses for you.”

  “Cheers, freak,” Lynch said as he shouldered past Montague.

  Montague caught his wrist and Lynch fell to the ground, crying out in pain, his body going rigid as his eyes rolled up into his head.

  Montague released him just as quickly, chuckling to himself. “
As I thought. Goodbye Lynch.”

  Lynch glared at him as he got up, looking ready to punch the man as Colt pulled him away.

  “Forever,” Montague whispered, but I wondered if I was the only one who heard it.

  I threw a smile back at him, deciding I liked the guy.

  “I have faith in you, my dear,” Montague said. “You'll make the right choice when the time comes.”

  “Thank you,” I said uncertainly, heading after the others as Colt gave me a hard stare.

  We filed onto the boat and Colt soon had it sailing along the river.

  Lynch sat opposite me in the cabin, fingering his gun.

  The visit with Montague had given me hope, despite the fact I feared what tests I was going to face in the future. I just prayed his faith in me was founded. Because I wasn't so sure.

  Cass

  I was tied to a reclined metal chair, tethered down by iron restraints, gazing up at a glaring white light. The room was designed for torture. The floor was tiled and a sheet was laid down for blood beneath me. Vile-looking instruments were lined up on a trolley next to me. Some of the worse-looking things were hanging in racks on the walls. Knives, saws, chains. Even a glinting axe.

  In comparison to what he could be doing to me, Rockley was currently being kind. But I didn't expect those shiny objects to stay on the walls much longer.

  A wet cloth had been pulled from my face, resting on my neck. Rockley stood at my feet with a hose in his hand that was attached to a nearby sink.

  I was panting, my body trembling from the recent bout of water-boarding.

  “You know...dere is an empty hole inside each and every person in dis world,” Rockley purred. “Most try to fill it with alcohol, drugs, possessions, sex.” He moved around the chair, running a hand over my tensed arm. “Dat is why I make so much money doing what I do. Offering the pleasures everybody craves but no one speaks of. But do you want to know a secret? Dat hole is bottomless. It will never, ever be filled. So I will always be immeasurably rich.”