by Kiersten Fay
Cora replied, “I’d rather be doing anything than sitting here waiting for you to do whatever it is you plan.”
“I suppose you think Mace will come to save you?”
She frowned. That was exactly what she had hoped. By now, Mace should have discovered her missing from his bed. He should be frantic to find her. Had Knox done something to him as well? Trapped him like he had before?
Killed him?
Alarmed, she reached out to sense Mace through their bond. She sighed when she discovered he was in fact in a frenzy. Thank the goddess, he was alive. Then, as if he sensed her too, a touch of relief joined his worry.
How long had she been unconscious? How long had Mace been searching?
Where the hell was she?
She glanced around the room, trying to determine if Knox had moved her from his original cell. There was nothing to distinguish it except that it might be a bit larger and there was no cot for a prisoner to lie upon. It was just an empty room but for her chair in the center. A canvas waiting for paint; hopefully not red.
“The compound is huge,” Knox said, sniffing out the trail of her thoughts. “And I know every nook and cranny. I helped draw up the blueprints.”
She slumped, dejected. Then Mace might never find her. Not in time anyway.
She lifted her chin, determined to conceal her discouragement. By Knox’s smug expression, the attempt was pointless. He could decipher her emotions just as easily as Mace. And because she was bonded to Knox as well, she was able to deduce his. Occasionally. He seemed skilled at blocking her whenever he wished. Cora had been working to learn that little trick ever since she’d discovered it was possible. As Knox smirked at her bravado, she imagined a mental wall slamming shut between them. She wasn’t sure if it worked in pushing him out completely, but he did frown at her.
“You’re a quick learner,” he said, almost like an accusation. “Or have you always had that particular talent?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“’Course not. Not my innocent little Coraline.”
“I’m not yours.”
He inclined his head and stared down at her. “You made it so by bonding me.”
She’d heard him say something similar before.
“I didn’t bond to you on purpose.”
“Liars often shield themselves in denial. If you make a habit of it, your deceptions will likely ensnare you instead.”
“I’m not in denial. And I’m not a liar.”
He gave her his profile. “In any case, it no longer matters.” His tone held a disturbing amount of finality.
Anxiety spiked, and curiosity demanded she ask what he planned to do with her, but stubbornness overruled. If she could help it, she’d not give him the satisfaction of inviting him to detail his horrific intentions. Edgar loved to explain for her his every gruesome desire, the things he’d wanted to do to her.
She shuddered.
Knox was quiet for a long while, shuttered as though lost in thought.
Her arms tugged up on the nylon rope at her wrists, testing its strength. She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
He glanced at her squirming, and a spark of desire flared across his face. Worse, that flare shot through her mental defenses, rolling over her like a physical caress, affecting her in ways that she immediately fought to squelch.
She swallowed to fix the sudden dryness in her throat. It was the bond making her think such inappropriate, lewd thoughts at such a time as this.
At his raised brow, she blanked her expression and lifted her chin.
He humphed, amused. “You hold onto that denial a little longer, cher. That’s not why we’re here, anyway. Although, any other time I’d love to address those images you’re trying to suppress.”
Had he learned to read minds as well?
“The only image that’s running through my head is the one where I send a blade right through your heart.”
His eyes widened in surprise. The unexpected bravado even shocked her.
“That so?” He strode forward and then slowly circled her. The tips of his fingers grazed her jawline as he went. The sensation—goddess, the sensation!—demanded her full attention and forced a shiver to dance over her shoulders. Damn him! Had Knox given her some of his blood while she’d been out? That would explain her quickening breath. The unwanted warmth blooming within.
From behind, he threaded his fingers through the hair at her nape and gently tugged her head back till she looked up at him. “Would you really fight me? Or would you pretend to fight me, only to give in at the last moment? Like last time?”
“I didn’t give in. You bit me.”
A vampire’s bite was like the most potent aphrodisiac in the world. Instant pleasure followed the sharp double piercing, whether it was wanted or not.
“Not before you showed me how responsive you could be.” He leaned down to place his lips next to her ear. His voice came out little more than a rough whisper. “Not before I found you so slick and wanting.”
She shook her head, but couldn’t muster a coherent response as his breath feathered over the crook of her neck. Her mouth had gone dry as a barren desert. Her heart tapped out a staccato beat against her ribcage. Her cheeks heated. Surely it was anxiety and not anticipation that sparked a slow burn below her waist.
His words brought forth the memory of the day he referred to. He’d had her pinned to the back of the sofa, threatening to end her life. Same as now, he had gripped her possessively by the nape. At first, she had feared for her safety, truly believing he would slit her throat then and there. But then something had shifted. She couldn’t explain what, but both of them, not just Knox, had grown…aroused.
Disgusted with herself, she turned her head away from him. He released her hair and returned to his spot by the wall.
His mood suddenly took a forbidding dive and he opened himself to her, callously allowing her to experience the full descent.
“Already you play at pulling my strings. Do you think your feminine wiles will save you?”
Feminine wiles? As if she had invited him to act like a cad?
As if she had any say in what he did now?
Relieved to have some distance between them, she found her voice again. “I play at nothing. You’re the one with the game.”
For some reason, Knox was under the impression she had nefarious plans to enslave him. He believed Mace was already under her spell—when really the opposite was true, wasn’t it? She ignored the doubt that surfaced. She’d only just discovered what a blood bond was a few short months ago, and by then she had already bonded with not one, but two vampires—Mace and Knox. Both accidental.
“So we both believe a game’s afoot. I’m making sure I stay in the lead.” He locked gazes with her. “Because, believe me, I play to win.”
“What do you mean by that?” Her thoughts went to poor Ms. Windshaw, found dead in that alley with her throat torn out. Had she been part of his game?
“I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep my will stronger than yours. Which means I must make you bend to mine.”
He thought they were in some sort of battle of wills? She still had no idea what he had in mind, but it didn’t sound good. “Mace will kill you if you hurt me.”
He gave a cruel laugh. “Has he yet to inform you of our laws?”
Uneasiness battered her resolve. The laws upheld by vampire kind were never beneficial to anyone but vampires. Human law was little more than an afterthought. But then, she wasn’t human, was she? She had no idea where the laws of the witches stood in the scheme of things. Or if they even had any. Just as with the blood bond, she’d only just discovered her magical lineage a couple of months ago. Had only broken the binding spell placed on her by her parents when she was so young. Thus far, her portfolio boasted a handful of badly-cast spells—all useless in this scenario.
Ms. Windshaw was supposed to have taught her to wield her power, but the old woman had ended up d
ead before that could happen.
“Our law clearly states,” Knox continued with a dark smirk, “when two are bound to one, equal access shall be allotted to both parties. Mace broke the law when he locked me up and kept me from you. He could be imprisoned himself…”
Leaving Knox full access to her, she mentally finished.
Was that his plan? To have Mace removed from the scene without actually having to kill him. Is that why he hadn’t put up much of a fight when Mace had walked him down to his cell at gunpoint? With their extraordinary ability to heal, bullets did little to quell a vampire. Definitely wouldn’t kill one. Not unless they were special vampire rounds like the bullets that had taken Mace down on that mountain pass. But from what Cora understood, that kind of ammo was strictly outlawed.
“And what if two of the three want the other one out?” she asked pointedly.
“It’s far too late for that.” He half grinned. “Unless Mace is willing to walk away.”
She rolled her eyes.
“By the creepy stalker-ish pictures of you on his phone,” Knox added, “I’m going to go ahead and assume his answer to that will be no.”
Pictures?
“There are only two ways out of this for any of us. Wait till the bond naturally fades away—who know how long that will take—and death.” His eyes turned as cold as a burgeoning winter storm. “I’m not ruling out the latter.”
She notched her chin up, giving him her best scathing look. Yet, she wondered why he hadn’t taken option two already. Why was he keeping her alive?
He must be having too much fun orchestrating this little game of his. Hell, look at where she was—helpless and at his disposal. He could do anything he wanted to her right now.
He stood silent again, his head turned to one side as if he were waiting for something. After a long while, he muttered in a confidential tone, “Where are you, you little witch?”
“What?” Cora’s eyes darted nervously. Was he expecting someone else to arrive?
Knox pinned her with a fierce gaze. “Where’s Sadira? Why has she not come forward yet? She sought me out, after all.” He glanced around and called to the room, “Are you afraid, Sadira? Are you such a coward as to avoid me now?”
“Maybe because you knocked the shit out of her,” Cora replied churlishly. “Er…us.” What was the correct referential here?
Knox’s lips pulled back. “Already you declare her on your team.”
“Of course not. I don’t even know her. She forced herself into my body. And the first thing she does is screw me over!” Cora splayed her hands out as best as her restraints would allow, indicating her disastrous situation. “But clearly you know who she is.”
“Obviously,” he replied shortly, but did not elaborate.
Cora wasn’t sure if he wanted the conversation to end there. Didn’t really care. “Well, who is she? And why does she think you’re such hot shit?” She ran a scalding gaze over him as if to say he was the very antitheses.
His expression became stony, but she got the impression he didn’t like the way she looked at him now. “Is that what she told you?”
“She didn’t exactly make time for pillow talk.”
Knox cocked his head. “But you know how she feels about me. How is that, I wonder?”
“A blind muskrat would have been able to read the signs.”
“Have you figured out how to suppress her as you have your emotions?”
“I’m not suppressing anything. I’m blocking my emotions from you, not burying them.”
“Call her forth.”
Cora was pretty sure commanding possess-happy ghosts wasn’t in her repertoire. “Why? So you can beat the hell out of us again?”
“Don’t over exaggerate. I simply put her down before she could work a spell on me. And to give me time to properly confine the both of you.” His eyes flickered to Cora’s feet.
She followed his gaze and found a white powdery substance circling her along the ground. “What’s that?”
“It’s meant to keep magic either in or out,” he replied in an almost bored manner.
She inwardly groaned. It was possible the dangerous vampire in front of her knew more about magic than she did. “Could a ghost even use magic?”
Knox shrugged. “She’s not a ghost, exactly.”
Cora held on to a breath. “She’s not a demon, is she?” She had read up on demons. They were a bitch to exorcise. They clung to a body like sticky goo.
“She was a witch. Now she’s a wraith.” Knox didn’t bother explaining further. Once again he gave her his profile and cocked his head. Was he listening for something?
Cora racked her brain trying to recall if she had read anything about wraiths in that book of hers.
She hadn’t.
Hating that she had to defer to Knox, she asked, “What’s a wraith?”
“Shh.” He placed his finger over his lips, looked over his shoulder toward the door, then, after a few seconds, turned back to her with a wild, urgent expression, and whispered, “Call her forth now.”
“I can’t. I have no idea how to do that.” Unbelievably, she had whispered back. There was only one reason why Knox would hush her, and if he wanted her to be quiet, she should be anything but.
“Mason!” She screamed. “I’m in here!”
Mace must have heard her because the endless urgency she’d been gleaning through their bond spiked.
Knox pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, sounding exasperated. “Just know that you forced this on him.”
Dread plummeted in her chest. Was Knox prepared to be found?
“Knox, don’t.” She tugged uselessly at her bindings. “Please don’t hurt him.”
Mason’s bellows broke past the rim of the door. Next came a loud banging that reverberated off the bare walls like a Taiko drum.
Knox shot her a pitiless look before heading toward the door.
Chapter 3
“This is the one?” The unfamiliar voice managed to roused Bray from the effects of the tranq they’d shot into him just moments ago, but only slightly.
His captors stood closer than usual, openly inspecting him. The sedation was meant to keep him from being able to compel them. And it worked. He couldn’t even lift his head.
“You asked to see number seven, right?” another voice replied. This one he’d heard several times before, but had never had the pleasure of meeting the owner face to face, undrugged. Didn’t look like that would be happening today either.
Three sets of legs gathered around. Their shoes, though bleary, were telling. One pair was scuffed and covered with the same red-purple dirt of the cavern—one of the guards. The second set was cleaner, but well-used with a little of that same dirt around the toes and heal. The third set was out of place in this dingy world. Black dress shoes buffed to a glossy shine, not a scratch on them; possibly the man in charge of this whole operation, or an emissary. A client maybe. Or a distributor.
Numbness coated every nuance of Bray’s body. He struggled to lift his head and get a glimpse of the bastards, but invisible weights pulled his forehead back down.
“He looks sturdy for having been here so long. What’s his age?”
“We estimate he’s somewhere between three or four hundred.”
“You don’t know for sure?”
“He’s not forthcoming on the subject.”
“Hmm. Have you tested those samples I sent you?”
“I have, but I can’t decipher why the dark cells linger. Number seven’s blood has been used on others without the effects we’re seeing in that single small sample. I’d love to get my hands on the subject for further testing. She could be the key.”
“I’m working on it. We have her general location, but she’s hidden well. Members of the VEA have taken charge of her.”
The room fell silent.
“Don’t worry. We’re safe from their snooping. I’ve made sure of it. My best hunter has been dispatched to fetch her. As soo
n as we have her, she’ll be sent straight to you. It won’t be long now.”
——
With a roar, Mace barreled into Knox, but Knox planted his feet and took the blow like a bull ready for the charge. He slid back a couple meters against Mace’s weight, then countered with a knee to the gut.
Cora winced, pulling at her restraints.
Knox had been prepared for a fight and seemed to be winning. It hadn’t helped that when Mace had first caught sight of her strapped to the chair, he’d turned wild with rage.
Knox had smiled as though that were a good thing.
Soon she understood why. Knox was cunning, cold, and calculating, completely in control of his faculties, while, right now, Mace was an unthinking beast fueled by the need to bludgeon him to death.
It made him careless.
Cora pulled so hard on the ropes she must have torn through a bit of skin because both vampires paused mid-battle to look at her, their nostrils flaring as if they smelled fresh blood.
Mace recovered faster. He pulled back and caught Knox in the nose with a hard right hook. Knox’s head ricocheted backwards.
Momentarily stunned, he shook his head as if to clear it, then responded with a bone-smashing punch on Mace’s jaw. Blood splattered. Another crunching blow came from Knox’s boot connecting with Mace’s chin.
Mace crashed backwards.
Cora wailed his name.
Dazed, Mace scrambled to his feet. But Knox was on him like piston, landing strike after strike. Another knee to his battered gut, another punch to his beautiful face, another kick to his heaving chest. With a groan, Mace once more fell to his back, grappling against Knox.
Tears spilled down Cora’s cheeks as she cried out for Mace again.
Knox glanced at her, his frown deep. In that split second, even as a mess of convoluted emotions traveled over his face, he seemed to be debating something. Through the bond, she tried to figure out what it was, but she was thoroughly blocked. His expression was strange. Ruthless, yet almost…a little sad? But that couldn’t be right. In the vast emotional spectrum, sad was the last sentiment that could be applied to Knox.