The Vampire King's Cage

by T. S. Ryder

  Mary.

  She stood by the car, clutching the car door, watching him with wide eyes. Reluctantly, he headed back to her.

  ***

  Andre pointed to a spot right beside a huge, round inlet of watermarked Hudson Bay on the map. "This is where we're going," he said. He pointed just above the American border. "This is where we are."

  Mary held a water bottle out to him. She tried to keep the guilt off her face as he drank it; there were enough painkillers crushed and dissolved in the water to knock him out for an hour at least. But what other choice did she have? He had said that they would take their chances on the run and that he wasn't going anywhere near the other Bears if he didn't know their intentions for her.

  She had kept the cell phone in her pocket since they had received the phone call telling them that they would be executed if they didn't turn themselves in. She told Andre that she wanted a chance to reason with the Bears when they called again. Truthfully, she had her own plans.

  Andre was not going to die because of her.

  Less than an hour later, Andre was stretched out in the backseat while Mary drove. When the phone rang, she answered, knowing exactly what she was going to say.

  The words came out all jumbled. "I know my family did terrible things, but I don't know what they did exactly. That doesn't matter, I can't trust them–I mean you can't trust me because of them and that's okay. I don't expect to be trusted. But I've put Andre in danger and I can't let anything happen to him. So just tell me where to go and I'll go there."

  She stopped and sucked in a deep breath, listening anxiously. Andre snorted from the backseat and she tensed, but he didn't wake. The silence from the other end of the phone seemed to stretch on forever. Tears stung her eyes. They weren't going to tell her where to go. They were just going to kill her and Andre. Between the Bears and her family, there was no way out of this.

  "Please," she begged. "Please tell me where to go."

  "You're not going to ask what we have planned for you?" The male voice was sarcastic.

  Mary sighed in relief, closing her eyes. "I don't care. I just want Andre to be safe."

  Would he be safe if she died? Or would the rage and grief that consumed him after the deaths of Isadore and Eve rise up and take him again? She glanced in the mirror, finding his face. The cares and worries melted away in his sleep, making him look younger than his twenty-nine years. He was so young, and yet he had already been hurt so much. How could she add to that in any way?

  "I love him," she whispered. "I can't let him die because of me."

  "You'll be coming to a city in half an hour. There will be a fabric store on the right-hand side of the road, right as you get there. Stop there." The man's voice was neutral and she couldn't tell from his inflections what was going to happen to her once they were there. "We'll be waiting."

  He hung up before she could confirm. She expected to feel more panicked than this, but her pulse remained steady. She glanced at Andre again, and a fond smile spread over her face. She would take his face and voice with her wherever she went. He would be in her heart and memories for the rest of her life.

  And if worse came to worse, it would have to be enough.

  ***

  Andre was still fast asleep when she pulled into the parking lot of the fabric store. Several people, all as tall and muscular as Andre, were waiting, along with a grey van with tinted windows. Mary sucked in a deep breath before she stepped out of the car. With all these powerful Bears around, she felt very insignificant and wondered if this was the best course of action after all.

  It's for Andre. Even if she remained a prisoner, it was better than him getting killed or succumbing to the black rage that had nearly killed Julia for no reason, other than that she was Paul's daughter.

  Still, as the Bears watched her, she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

  "We're here," she said, then repeated herself louder because her voice was so dry it came out a choked whisper.

  A couple of the Bears moved past her, but one–taller than Andre, with a pointed face and blond hair–stood in front of her, staring down with a curious expression. Mary got the impression of a polar bear and shivered, wondering if this Bear was as dangerous and unpredictable as the arctic animals themselves.

  "What did you do to Andre Mitchel?"

  Mary winced. "I… I drugged him. He would never have come here if he was awake."

  "Then why did you come?"

  "Because he was told that we'd be killed if we didn't. Between you guys and my family, we can't run. I'm not going to let Andre die because of me!"

  The man raised a brow. "And what if you are going to die now?"

  It seemed a very likely possibility as she stared into the Bear's eyes, but Mary tried to hide her trembling. She forced her shoulders straight. "As long as Andre is safe."

  One of the Bears that had checked on Andre, a smaller man with black hair shot through with white, came back to the blond. He whispered into the taller Bear's ear. The blond man's expression remained absolutely unreadable, even though Mary searched for some way to determine what he was thinking and what would happen to her.

  She was a good head shorter than any of the Bears around her, and even though she was strong despite her size, she wasn't strong enough to fight her way out of this, even if she had been inclined to try.

  The blond Bear nodded suddenly. He turned to the small one. "Put the Bear in cuffs."

  Mary's eyes widened. "Why?"

  "You said yourself that he would not come here if he was awake. We can't risk him attacking once he's awake. You will sit in the back with him and a couple of my Bears will drive you to where you need to go. Understood?"

  Mary trembled but nodded. Oh, Luna! Please let this be the right choice.

  Andre woke as they were binding him. At first, he jerked away in an uncoordinated manner and Mary pressed herself in beside the Bear tying his feet so she could lay a hand on Andre's face to keep him from lashing out once he was aware of what was happening. His black eyes opened and blinked rapidly.

  "Mary?"

  "Don't fight," she said.

  He jerked from the Bears and roared. His hands yanked towards the throat of the nearest Bear and she grabbed them, pressing her palms against his. "Andre, don't fight. This is the only way."

  Andre didn't seem to notice, snarling at the Bears. His hands were firmly tied together by this time, and when Mary glanced backwards, she saw that his feet were trussed as well. She straddled her soulmate, cupping his face with her hands.

  "Calm down, Andre. It's just a precaution. They're going to take us somewhere now. Somewhere where we will be safe from my family."

  Andre roared, thrashing against her. The black of his eyes expanded, taking up his whole gaze, and the skin beneath her fingers shifted, a soft fuzz growing over his face.

  "Andre!" Mary shouted, making herself be heard over his snarls. "Would you rather that we didn't come and I died?"

  He stopped fighting instantly. A pang hit Mary's stomach at the look in his eyes, shocked and full of grief. He was thinking of his wife and daughter, and how they had died. But he had stopped fighting, and that was what she needed right now.

  She helped him sit up and buckled a seatbelt around his waist. "I'm sorry, Andre. I'm sorry. But we both know this was the only way."

  Andre's shoulders slumped and he turned his face away, staring out the window. Mary's heart sank into her stomach. She slid to the other window seat and wrapped her arms around herself, closing her eyes.

  This was the right choice, she told herself firmly. It was the only way we were going to survive.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Andre paced the room he'd been put into. Cell, really. A simple light fixture hung from the ceiling, illuminating a double bed, a desk, and a computer chair. No windows.

  It would not be so uncomfortable if Mary was with him. She had been taken away the moment they got to the Bear headquarters, or whatever this was. Hi
s nerves chewed at his stomach, but Mary had made him promise to hear out these Bears before he made any move against them.

  Waiting was his only option, and it didn't seem like much of an option at all.

  Finally, the door swung open, producing the tall blond that set Andre's teeth on edge. His Bear growled, and he shifted into a defensive position, sizing up his opponent. The blond was taller, broader, and had an unmistakable air of command and power about him. A haughty, arrogant expression twisted the man's features.

  "Where is Mary?" Andre balled his fists. It would probably be a bad idea to attack this Bear. Better to try to talk it out first.

  "Just down the hall. Our evaluators have determined that she is not a physical threat and her care for you seems to be genuine."

  Andre growled. "Let me see her."

  "I think not."

  Rage bubbled up Andre's throat. With difficulty, he kept his head clear. Now was not the time to lose his temper! He dug his fingernails into his palms, breathing deeply through his nose. "I want to see her."

  "I'm sure you do. But you will have to take my word that we have not harmed her in any way."

  Andre nearly lunged forward, but thought of Mary and reeled himself back, rocking on his heels. At the moment it was all he could do, take the Bear's word that Mary was unharmed and that she would stay that way. He closed his eyes, exhaling.

  Stay calm.

  "But I am being rude. My name is Grant Easton. We talked on the phone."

  "What do you want from us?"

  "Zoe was planning to reach out to the Wolf community Mary is from. All their children are born with Wolves. There aren't any other Shifters in the world that have that kind of vitality. We would like to know how they do it."

  Andre narrowed his eyes. "If you want to talk to them… you should seek out Peter Locke."

  The words were bitter on his tongue and he would have rather have told Easton to rip off Peter's head. But he couldn't. From what he knew, the Wolf was in a unique position to influence change in the community, and there was a chance that he might actually want change. What happened to turn him from the murderer that killed Isadore and Eve into a person wanting change, he didn't know.

  But if he cared enough about Mary to help her escape and be with a Bear, then perhaps he cared enough about the rest of them to try to stop the cycle of violence that they perpetrated on other Shifters.

  "Can you tell me about the community? I understand you observed them for quite some time."

  Andre remained standing as Easton sat. He ran a hand through his long brown hair and wished he had something to tie it back with.

  "They isolate themselves from the outside world. Although they have close relations with the humans in the nearest town and occasionally intermarry, the humans don't know they're werewolves. They have their own school, though it seems like most of the children are homeschooled, and poorly educated at that. They marry very young. Their daughters are usually only sixteen, their sons only a few years older than that."

  Easton frowned. "All fascinating, but what are their defenses? What sort of fighters do they have?"

  "Defenses?"

  "We have been looking for these werewolves for years. Decades, even." Easton stood. "They have always struck like shadows, killing mercilessly. Then they just disappear again. We have a general idea of where they are now, but what town are they close to? How have they managed to remain hidden? How do we destroy them?"

  Andre's eyes widened. "Destroy them?"

  "Of course. Zoe wanted to talk and look where it got her. She's dead! They can't be trusted. You know that better than anybody. We are going to find them, extract their secrets, and kill all those who are a threat."

  Andre's Bear roared with approval. Let all the killers be killed. Give all their victims some peace and justice. "But how will you decide who is a threat?"

  Easton raised a brow. "Those who are old enough to be already indoctrinated in their ways are a threat. The young ones, eight years old or so, will still have minds that can be shaped. We'll let them live."

  Eight. Andre could hardly believe what he was hearing. They were going to massacre the entire community, even children if they were older than eight? His hands clenched.

  If they had attacked when Mary was there, they would have killed her, even though she was one of the gentlest people he knew. Julia, the thin, helpless Wolf he had attacked in his bloodlust, was no threat to anybody! And Mary told him about her other siblings. Her brother Matthew was only twelve.

  Would they kill a child for the sins of his father?

  He almost had. And Easton would not listen to Mary's pleas for him to stop.

  "You can help us." Easton stepped forward. "I know what happened to your wife and daughter. Those Wolves brutally murdered them. Now is your chance for revenge. Where are they?"

  Isadore's smiling face floated into his mind, followed by Eve's. And then their bodies, cut open by the Lockes and left to rot. "Not all of them are murderers."

  "Your daughter was only six when she was killed, wasn't she?" Easton peered at him, then nodded as though he saw something he liked in Andre's expression. "That will be the age then. Six and under will live. The rest will die. Just tell me where to find them."

  "Children," Andre said, "do not deserve to die."

  He lunged forward, but before he could reach Easton, the blond had embraced his Bear. Fabric tore, bursting apart at the seams. Rippling white fur gleamed in the fluorescent light. A massive paw crashed into the side of Andre's head. He flew backwards, white lights blinding him. Spasms of pain jolted through his shoulder and knee.

  Andre rolled onto his stomach, calling for his Bear, but Easton was on him, his massive jaws around Andre's head, his polar bear body pinning him to the floor. A low, rumbling growl vibrated from his body into Andre's, and Andre made himself go still.

  Easton withdrew and suppressed his Bear. He looked down at his ruined clothes and sighed. "Well. I can see you aren't going to cooperate. I'm disappointed. Did Isadore and Eve mean so little to you?"

  "Paul Locke killed them and he's dead. Killing his children won't bring my child back."

  "Very well." Easton shrugged. "We'll just have to find them another way then."

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Mary flinched as Grant Easton pushed a picture across the table where she sat. It was her father lying on the forest floor, his chest blown open by the bullet she had put there, his eyes were glazed over. She looked away, but there was nothing in this bleak room that could distract her from the vivid red on her father's grey fur.

  "You killed your father," Easton said, circling her.

  "He was going to kill Andre. I didn't have a choice. And after everything he did… to me, to Andre's wife and daughter… I… I know I did the right thing."

  Her eyes filled with tears nonetheless. She didn't even like setting traps for the mice that would occasionally make their way into the house. The feeling of the gun in her hands and the taste of the gunpowder on the air still haunted her in her dreams. As much as she could tell herself it was the right thing to do, she hated that she had to do it. Grief still welled in her heart.

  But after all that he had done, did Paul Locke deserve to be grieved? What did it mean to all his victims that she still wished there had been another way? Wished he hadn't had to die?

  Her guilt for grieving her father was almost as strong as the guilt she felt for killing him.

  "Your werewolf community blames Andre, don't they? They think he killed your father."

  "I told my brother that I killed him."

  Easton circled to the other side of the table and leaned over her, tapping the picture rapidly. "Look at that! Do you think that your brother or any of your community will accept that you would do that to your father if you weren't brainwashed? They are going to keep coming after Andre. You know that, don't you, Mary?

  Mary flinched again. Her mouth was dry, but she couldn’t deny it. That was exactly what her commun
ity would do. Blame Andre, even if Peter told them the truth.

  Her hands curled into the hem of her shirt, her nails picking at the threads in the fabric. "But once you get Andre and me off of the continent—"

  "I want to, Mary. I really do. But." Easton let the word hang between them, as though it was all that needed to be heard. He took the picture away, staring down at it. "After what happened to Zoe, it was decided by my superiors that we can't trust you."

  "I didn't know my father—"

  "I told them that, but they don't believe me." Easton sat on the edge of the table. "I told them that you were unaware that you were being manipulated into giving away Zoe's position, but they just won't believe it. She was an important woman and now she is dead."

  Mary flinched.

  "You and Andre are going nowhere. It's just not safe for us. You understand, right?"

  Mary buried her face in her hands.

  "Now, I want to keep the two of you safe," Easton continued. "Even if it means keeping you locked up in here forever. Andre has already agreed to those terms. He says that as long as you're safe, he won't complain."

  It was so like Andre to say that. Mary felt herself smiling despite herself, warm love swelling in her heart. "Yes. Yes, that would be fine. I don't care if we stay locked up, as long as my family can't hurt him."

  Easton sighed, standing again. "Mary, you misunderstand me. I said I want to keep you two safe. Not that I could."

  Cold, bitter fear doused her, and bile rose in her throat. She stared up at Easton, her hands trembling again. "Just say what you mean then!"

  "I have received orders. You are considered too much of a threat. You and Andre will be turned out. I hope that you can stay safe, Mary. I really do." He paused again, staring at the picture of her father's dead body. "Maybe the Wolves of your community will give up. Maybe they'll decide you're not worth the effort."

  They wouldn't. They would keep hunting her and Andre until they were dead. There was no escaping the hunt.

  Unless she was to end it.