There was a darkness to him that I didn’t see when I looked at Darius. Or a different sort of darkness, anyway. One layered with a quiet rage, a thirst for revenge.
Maybe it was because so much of Darius’s personality seemed married to the fact that he’d been living in isolation for so long, locked up and desperate for anything that seemed even remotely entertaining. He was reckless and wild. Claude, however, was not. A chill crept up my spine as he studied me, until I felt like I was the one suddenly locked up in a research lab.
“Thank you for allowing us to stay,” I said, annoyed with my meekness. I was so not the sort of girl to cower in a corner, but Darius and Claude were not normal vampires. Normal vampires were scary and strong. This set of twins was on an entirely different level. Their very pores seemed to exude power and strength. Both of them were unpredictable, but in wildly different ways.
I was, for example, fairly certain that Darius wouldn’t lose his patience and swipe my head clean off my spine the second irritation crept in. I didn’t have the same confidence when it came to Claude.
“I don’t have much of a choice,” he said, arching a single brow as he cut off a slice of bread for himself.
He broke eye contact and showed me his back in a way that made it remarkably clear that he did not fear me. Even though I was a protector, he didn’t think I would attack. Or, maybe it was that he knew he could stop me if I did, without so much as breaking a sweat.
Cocky fuck.
Even though he was probably right.
“Keeping you here for a day or two will require less effort and resources on my part. My brother,” he shook his head, nose curling in disgust, “gets into trouble very easily. Best for me in the long run if he’s kept out of sight from the community before any of his mistakes land on my doorstep again. If it was up to me, the rest of you would be dead or on your way to other lodgings, but he’s promised to make things very...messy for me if I act on those wishes.” In a soft, barely-there whisper he added, “insufferable prick.”
I gulped, like a goddamn cartoon character, my breath hitching slightly as Ralph stepped between us, growling low and steady. It was a clear warning, and enough confirmation that Claude was as dangerous as my gut was telling me he was.
“And then there’s that,” he added, intrigue replacing his annoyance in a flash. “If I left you to die, I have a feeling my brother isn’t the only one who’d make my life very difficult.” He paused and looked at me, his brow arched with an unspoken question. “Curious thing, you know, for a protector to have a hellhound as a familiar. And my brother seems to have decided that you’re fascinating enough to keep around as well. I wonder why that is.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief and a promise of pain as he took a large bite of the bread, fangs extending just for show. Vampires didn’t require food in the same way that protectors and humans did. Just blood. You could starve them for days or months and they’d still survive, though they would grow a bit weaker. It’s what they did to the vampires The Guild kept in the lab, and it was why Darius was so much weaker and more unpredictable than his brother. Not only was he starved of food, but he was given very limited doses of blood as well.
“You clearly dislike your brother,” I said, straightening my spine in the hope that it would bring me the illusion of courage if not the reality of it, “and yet you saved him. All of us. Why?”
Claude’s eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring imperceptibly. “Everyone who knows him dislikes my brother. It’s not a shocking revelation. I suppose in that sense, I’m not the least bit surprised that he’s found appreciation amongst a group of protectors—yours has always been the least intelligent species of all. But my relationship with my brother is none of your business, nor are the actions I do or do not take. All that you need to know is that you almost died, but you didn’t.” He took a step towards me, like a lion closing in on its next meal. “That you’re to stay here for another day until your friend upstairs either dies or slips into a more permanent coma. And when he does, I’ll be more than happy to end his misery altogether. Then, I’ll take you all to hell with a promise in return that you never show your face in my city again.”
I pushed back into the kitchen island, as he moved closer towards me, earning a severe warning growl from Ralph. I could feel rather than see Ralph show his teeth as the vampire inched closer and closer. The sound was menacing and, for a moment, even I was temporarily frightened of the hellhound. The very house seemed to vibrate beneath his paws.
I promised to myself right then and there that I’d do whatever it took to never land on his bad side.
Claude’s eyes shifted down towards the hellhound and back to me, his brows arching in curiosity but not in fear. Maybe he was just as careless as his brother was. “Tell me protector, how exactly did you come to have a hellhound as a familiar? That is one story I would love to hear. I might even help you survive, if you held my interest long enough.”
I cleared my throat, watching as he prowled closer and closer. “I-I don’t really know. One day he just showed up.” I narrowed my eyes slightly, trying to fill my voice with as much warning as possible. Even to my own ears, the effect was pathetic. “And then when I was attacked by a vampire, Ralph killed him.”
It wasn’t completely true. He helped assist me with the kill, but the more powerful and menacing I could make Ralph seem, the better. I had a feeling that Ralph could take down most vampires with little to no problem. But something told me that he would have his work cut out for him if he chose to attack Claude.
As if sensing my intention, Claude’s lips lifted in a wry grin. His expression was all amusement, no fear. And my not-so-subtle threat didn’t stop him from taking another step towards me.
And then another.
“He’s actually quite small, you know, as far as hellhounds go. Powerful still, of course. Of that there’s no doubt. But when you descend into hell, don’t expect him to be the most dangerous creature you encounter. And if he’s left the hell realm before, or been kicked out, chances are it was for a reason, and he won’t exactly be welcomed back with open arms. That’s not how things work there. When you leave, you make damn sure that you don’t return without the assistance of some very powerful friends on the other side.”
My jaw clenched and I wound my fingers into the scruff on the back of Ralph’s neck. Part of me didn’t want him to come with us at all. I had enough accountability to worry about—I couldn’t risk being responsible for another friend getting injured. Or worse.
Ralph’s growls vibrated through me, until they felt like my own. I was so used to him being this loveable furball that I almost didn’t recognize him like this. Would he attack Claude? If he did, could he win? Would he win?
My chest tightened, like an iron vice was squeezing it. I patted him softly on his back, trying to calm him down a bit. As tempting as it was, we couldn’t risk a fight with Claude. He was our best chance of finding and saving Wade. And while I knew that Ralph could easily take on a typical vampire, something about Claude didn’t feel the slightest bit typical. And I didn’t want to take our chances.
As if sensing my thought process as it filtered through my mind, Ralph sat back on his haunches and stopped his warning growls. He was still menacing, but the threat of him being on the precipice of attack was muddled a bit.
A low, mirthless chuckle escaped from Claude’s lips. “Interesting. I’ve only ever seen a hellhound respond to the wishes and thoughts of one creature before.” Appeased now that Ralph wouldn’t harm him, Claude closed the distance between us until he was little more than a few inches away from me. “You’re an unusual girl, indeed, Max Bentley. Tell me, what is it about you that has my brother tied into such a knot? It’s rare—unheard of, really—for him to swear allegiance, however tentative, to anyone. Not even to me, his own flesh and blood. We shared a womb and he’s never once shown me any loyalty. But here he is, acting as bodyguard to a pint-size protector, no matter how much he tries to pre
tend that he’s the one controlling the situation.”
He raised a hand to the back of my neck, winding his fingers around the strands of hair at the nape until he had enough leverage to pull my focus up, forcing my eyes to meet his above me.
His mismatched eyes were guarded and angry, but I couldn’t look away from them.
With a devious grin, he dropped his gaze to my neck, using his grip to tilt my head to the side, baring it to him.
“I wonder,” he said, clearly enjoying my discomfort as Ralph resumed the rumbling in his chest, “whether or not you’ve ever been tasted. Have you opened your veins for my brother? Spilled your blood between his lips? He’s a very bad man, you know. You’d do well to keep yourself from falling for his charms, from trusting him. He’s betrayed everyone who’s ever made that mistake. If I were you, I’d cut your losses and return home immediately. It doesn’t have to be back to The Guild for you. I could find a use for you. I’m sure I have friends who would be interested in discovering your secrets. If you had a strand of intelligence, you’d abandon your absurd quest before you get yourself and all of your friends killed.” He arched his brow, studying me with the sort of invested patience usually reserved for museum displays. “Of course, if you have a death wish, I’m more than happy to oblige, to see what the fuss is all about myself.”
He bent his head down a bit, smiling as his teeth extended into his plush, soft bottom lip. In this moment, he looked nothing like Darius. The playfully amused, occasionally terrifying expression I was used to seeing on this face was cold and filled with a quiet promise of pain instead. His jaw was tight, his eyes filled with ice. I knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me, not really, not if it suited him. That as soon as he decided to, he’d kill us all if we gave him reason, even his brother.
Every inch of my body was vibrating with the need to attack. My fingers danced along my thighs, searching for my dagger but met nothing but the bare space where my long shirt met my skin. Why the hell was I still not wearing pants?
Would he do it? Would he really bring me into his home, give us shelter, only to kill me now? How could that serve his purposes? Why bother bringing us in at all?
“You’d do well to back away,” a low, terrifying voice growled. “Immediately.”
Claude turned his head, surprised by the new arrival, pulling my head along with him as he moved.
Atlas stood in the middle of the kitchen, eyes almost completely golden as he studied Claude with a deliberate, calculated lethality.
While I wanted to kill Claude in this moment, while I wanted to allow Ralph off his reins to take him out, I wouldn’t. We needed him. I wasn’t so sure that Atlas was operating on the same long term wavelength. Not with his wolf so close to the surface.
“Not only has the girl got a vampire wrapped around her impossibly brittle finger, but a newbie wolf as well. So very interesting. If I didn’t want you all out of my life as quickly as possible, I’d be tempted to keep her around—tear her to pieces until I understood exactly what was so special about her.”
“Remove your hands from her,” Atlas said, his nostrils flaring as his muscles flexed imperceptibly beneath his shirt, like he was warding off a shift. I hadn’t seen Atlas shift before, and while part of me was intrigued by the idea—of watching the creature emerge before my eyes—now was not the time. “I won’t give you another chance.”
“Reckless boy,” Claude said, close to laughing as he shook his head with a mixture of pity and amusement on his face.
I had a feeling that we were all amusing, weak toys to him, that he wasn’t the least bit terrified of any of us—neither individually nor as a united front. The realization renewed my fear of him.
“You wouldn’t stand a chance against me.” With a shrug, he flung me towards Atlas until I went crashing into his chest, his long arms closing tightly around me, only to push me roughly behind him. “Very well then, there you have her. Though I’m not so convinced you actually want her. Half the time you seem split between recoiling and yearning, just as at war with your emotions as you are with your beast. It’s pathetic, really. And it will get you killed. Probably sooner rather than later.”
Claude grinned wickedly at me, promising we’d meet again and finish this conversation at a later time. “You’ll be out of here by morning, whether or not your friend is awake. I don’t have time to deal with these distractions and, to be quite frank, the sooner my brother is out of my space, the better it will be for all of you. People tend to become collateral damage when the two of us are together for too long. I don’t only think of myself, though it might seem that way.”
He ripped off another chunk of bread, not bothering with the knife or butter. He sank his teeth—still extended—into the crust, pulling off a giant bite with an aggressive fervor. With a casual wink in my direction, he left the kitchen as if we’d all just been having a jovial, relaxing conversation, and not threatening each other with an unspoken promise of death.
“Creepy clearly runs in the family,” I said, trying to lighten the mood as Ralph slowly followed the vampire out. Hopefully he was only planning on keeping an eye on him and not attacking outright. I didn’t think we could get away with killing our host unscathed. Not to mention Wade. We needed Claude if we were going to succeed in our rescue mission.
Atlas was silent, the kind of silent that told me he was trying desperately to swallow the rage flowing through his body. Without acknowledging my comment, he gripped my wrist roughly with his fingers and pulled me from the kitchen. He wound through several rooms and halls, all decorated with an eye towards minimalism and taste, unlike some of the more lavish rooms I’d stumbled upon on my trek to the kitchen. Eventually, he stopped inside of a dark room far enough away from everyone that no sounds chased after us. Was he hoping to have a private conversation with me—away from prying vampire ears—or was this something else?
He shoved me in before him and then shut the door behind us both. Silence swept through the room, the sort of silence that was filled with poorly-contained tension and anger. I could practically feel electricity brewing in the air around us. Gracelessly, I swiped up and down the wall until I found the light switch. After a few clumsy gestures, a final flick up revealed us to be in a medium-sized bedroom with dark bedding and gray walls. There was almost no art on the wall, just a large bookcase filled to the brim with broken spines that spoke of use.
I loved that—books that looked like they’d been read and loved—and I had to physically force myself not to go combing through the stacks to find an exciting tale that could drown my own anxieties out for a little while. This wasn’t the time.
Something told me that Atlas wasn’t in the mood for light-hearted banter or letting me relax a bit either.
“Are you—”
Before the sentence could leave my mouth, Atlas had me pinned against the heavy door, his forearm pressing across my throat as his body kept me pinned. I was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that I was only dressed in a baggy shirt, as his legs pressed into mine, the fabric of his jeans chafing against the skin of my thighs.
His eyes were that wild yellow they seemed to get when his wolf was lurking close to the surface—the same yellow that seemed to come out an awful lot when I was around, like he was always one smart remark away from snapping and ripping my limbs from my body, piece by excruciating piece. The same yellow that made me feel like the densest girl in the world for not realizing instantly, the exact moment I met him, that he was more than just a typical protector. How had it taken me months to figure out? How had no one else realized it in the meantime?
Then again, maybe he only got this way around me—my presence certainly seemed to correlate with his anger. He made it difficult for me to believe in that whole ‘correlation doesn't imply causation’ thing.
“I want to know where you come from,” he whispered, his voice filled with an unacknowledged hatred as he pressed his forearm into my throat, cutting off the air supp
ly.
I opened and closed my mouth like a fish, hoping he’d get the hint that I couldn’t exactly have a conversation when I couldn’t even breathe.
Realization smoothed out the tense angles of his features a bit and he released enough pressure for me to speak.
“You know where I came from,” I said, my heart slamming hard against my ribs. I was about done with feeling like everyone around me was a hair’s breadth away from snapping and killing me. I’d made a lot of mistakes in the past few months, but I didn’t deserve this. “I grew up with Cyrus Bentley in a tiny ass mountain cabin somewhere in the middle of Montana. And you know that already,” I bit out, anger swallowing my tone, “because you fucking stalked and attacked me there before I even moved to Guild Headquarters.”
His nostrils flared, both of our eyes locked on each other in an aggressive battle of wills. We hadn’t discussed that moment, the fact that Atlas showed up in my life long before I knew who he was. We hadn’t talked about the fact that he was a werewolf much at all. Everything I knew came through Declan and my own deductions, for the most part.
“Before Cyrus,” he continued, clearly ignoring my accusation, “where did he find you? Who are your parents?”
Was he joking? We were temporarily seeking asylum in Dracula’s castle while on a mission to save his incubus brother from hell. And this was what he wanted to talk about? My parents and childhood upbringing? Good old Max Bentley story time?
“How the fuck does this matter right now? And even if it did, I don’t know. Cy always said I showed up on his doorstep and he took me in. End of story. He’s not exactly the most sharing sort of dude if you didn’t realize that already. The conversation about my parents has always been a short one—a simple shrug, an annoyed grunt. Not exactly fodder for a superhero origin tale.” I grinned up at him before adding, “at least not for Marvel anyway.”
Hell and Back: The Protector Guild Book 4 Page 8