Of A Darker Nature

by Clay, Michelle

  He pulled her closer and forced her to stand on tiptoe. His lips were mere inches from hers. “Save your abuse for Pete. He deserves it much more than me.”

  She tried to bite him, which prompted him to say, “I’m uninterested.”

  Isabella jerked away to push past him. A wounded expression flitted across her face. It quickly was hidden, and he didn’t bother to comment.

  “Get out of my way, underling. You disappoint me yet again.”

  Marcus followed her into the interrogation room. Voices cried out as they passed. The smell of urine and worse assaulted his senses. He didn’t look at the two men or the woman being held here, his line of vision rested on Pete.

  Jai Li stood beside the traitor. She had dressed in a bodysuit that fit like a second skin. A cat of nine tails dangled from her right hand. Jagged silver beads hung from each tail. Corey looked on from where he sat on a nearby table. His youthful face seemed to glow with excitement. Evan stood next to him, his expression the exact opposite.

  Marcus ran fingers over a few of the tools lying on the closest table. Several were innocent enough — they even held every day uses. The others were less ordinary, but there were no mysteries behind their purposes. Marcus knew firsthand. They’d been used on him more times than he cared to count, and he’d used them on others as well.

  Jai Li looked beside herself with agitation. “He won’t talk. He's useless.” She punctuated each word with a snap of the whip. Each time the silver tipped leather touched him, Pete’s back arched and he inhaled sharply. Unlike so many of the others, Pete hadn’t begun to scream or cry.

  “Perhaps you are not doing it correctly.” Isabella motioned for the weapon with a twitch of her fingers.

  Jai Li lifted her sculpted brows, but handed it over without argument. The leather creaked beneath Isabella’s fingers. She jumped in surprise and even giggled when the first strike rang out. Pete sucked in a lung full of air, but refused to reward her with a scream.

  Isabella struck him again and again, each attack growing more forceful than the last. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a peculiar, thrilled grimace. Every time she swung her arm, she let out a little cry of delight.

  “She’s enjoying this.” Jai Li gripped Marcus’s arm and held it tight against her side.

  Pete’s blood flowed down the drain in the center of the room.

  The other prisoners didn’t make a sound. They were probably afraid of drawing Isabella’s attention. Even the loudmouth werewolf who had been brought in a day ago had fallen silent.

  Corey offered the mistress a cheer of approval.

  Gore covered Isabella’s silky yellow dress. Pete now hung limp against his binds, head down, and sobbing. “I can’t tell you. Starr will kill me.”

  Corey laughed, circling their prisoner. “He’s hanging from our ceiling and being tortured, but he’s worried about the witch?” He kicked Pete’s left foot and grinned up at the traitor. “Jeez, Petey, you need to get your priorities straight.”

  Isabella grabbed a handful of Pete’s hair and yanked his head up. “I will kill you myself!”

  “I’m dead either way.” His words were a harsh, broken whisper.

  Bloody saliva and snot hung from his face. His head swayed from side to side, and he made a high keening noise from deep within his throat. Marcus recognized the crazed look in Pete’s eyes. He was desperate to shut off the pain.

  Jai Li brushed the hair from her eyes. “Just tell us what we want to know, Pete. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “Go. To. Hell.” He tried to kick her with each word.

  Evan looked green as he headed for the exit. He’d never liked this sort of thing, and Marcus was surprised he’d hung around this long.

  “Very well, you have given me no choice.” Isabella’s voice fell to a low, dangerous timbre. Even the finest lines around her eyes crinkled with something akin to glee.

  She moved to the closest tool cart to select a skinning knife. A wicked grin twisted her features. She curled fingers around the smooth handle and waved it in front of Pete’s face.

  “I wonder how you would fare if I were to carve you with this?” Light glinted off the shiny metal.

  Pete’s eyes widened. “No, please.”

  She pointed at Jai Li. “Bring me a step stool. I plan on skinning him from head to toe.” She turned back to Pete. “Talk or you will experience a lot of discomforts. Tell me what I want to know, and I will reward you with a quick death.”

  Corey reached for the blade. “Let me. There’s no need to dirty your hands.”

  She slapped his fingers away. “It is I that was betrayed, not you. I will deal with this myself and I will enjoy it immensely.”

  “Please, don’t do this.” Pete's words were an agonized moan. “I’ll tell you whatever you want.”

  “Yes, you will.” Isabella allowed the point of the blade to nick his stomach. “But first I am going to remind you of your place.”

  Pete’s frantic gaze snapped up to search the room for help. “It was Marcus! He’s the one who orchestrated the whole thing. He planned this out, Mistress. We followed his lead. Marcus is working with the witch too.”

  Isabella’s giggle grated Marcus’s nerves. She twisted to face him, her laughter ending abruptly. Uncertainty clouded her features, but she quickly regained control of herself. “He would not dare do anything so foolish. Marcus may struggle with being subservient every once in a while, but he always gets back in line.” With a dismissive wave of the hand, she returned her attentions to Pete.

  Marcus narrowed his eyes on her, but chose not to say anything just yet. She needed to do this, to show Pete that she was in charge. There would be time to remind her of “his place” later, behind closed doors.

  “Remove the rest of his clothing, Corey.”

  Jai Li returned with a stepping stool. She stood perfectly still while Isabella gripped her shoulder and climbed atop it.

  Pete had just begun to scream when Marcus left the room. The roaring fire in Isabella’s eyes wouldn’t be extinguished until she’d gotten the information she wanted.

  Evan waited in the hallway for Marcus to join him. “How can you stand to do that sort of stuff?”

  “I don’t unless I have to. Sometimes it’s unavoidable.” In response to Evan’s sharp look of disapproval, he said, “I don’t enjoy it.” Not always.

  Evan looked up at him with wide eyes. “Have you ever flayed someone?”

  “Nope, haven’t tried that one.” Marcus continued down the hallway even though Evan had stopped. He could almost feel Evan’s inquisitive gaze on the back of his head. He hoped his friend didn’t ask for details of his past experiences in the interrogation room.

  Marcus didn’t want to lie, but he also didn’t want Evan to think him a monster.

  Evan caught up to him. He seemed to understand Marcus didn’t want to discuss the interrogation room. “I’m glad you held your tongue back there.”

  “Mm, it’s a chore, but sometimes I make rational decisions.” He smiled ever so slightly.

  “She isn’t going to be happy until you bring the girl.”

  “I would’ve brought her tonight, but the cops showed up. I couldn’t catch her alone after that.” That wasn’t exactly the truth. “Besides, I figured Isabella would want to question Pete more than some silly girl.”

  “If I didn't know you better, I'd say you didn't want to share her with the others.”

  It was well past sunrise. Exhaustion crept through Marcus and clouded his brain. His mind demanded that he shut down. He pushed into their shared bedroom and sank onto his bed.

  Evan studied his slow movements. After a few moments, he bent to help Marcus remove his boots. “The girl is a human, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, but a strange one.” Marcus took off his shirt, wadded it into a ball and tossed it into the corner. He left the jeans hanging on his hips. “Glamour and enchantments don't seem to work on her.”

  “So naturally you're cu
rious.”

  “Among other things.” Marcus yawned. Enthrallment wouldn’t work on Emily, but seduction just might. He couldn’t help but think about how her demeanor had changed. She was a bit more wary of him, and he suspected he had Beau to thank for that. Now he might never know what she tasted like or what secrets she kept.

  Evan dropped his gaze. His cheeks glowed in discomfort. “It must be a cruel god who made you.”

  He’d only half heard Evan’s soft spoken words. Something about him being cruel? Had he finally figured out Marcus wasn’t all sparkles and sunshine? “What did you say?”

  “Never mind.” Evan waved his hand with embarrassment. He hung up the vest he’d been wearing and tucked Marcus’s boots into the closet. He even picked up Marcus’s dirty clothes and put them in their proper place.

  Marcus studied his friend for a few moments, trying to figure out what hadn’t been said. “Something else is bothering you?”

  “Yes.” Evan ducked his head and waved a dismissive hand. The movement mimicked Isabella’s etiquette and set Marcus’s teeth on edge. “No, no it doesn’t matter. Forget it.”

  Marcus crossed the room and laid his hands on the petite man’s shoulders. He pulled him into a friendly hug. “I’m no genius, but I can tell something’s wrong. So just tell me what’s bothering you.”

  His friend’s face crumpled, and he hated the helpless feeling that enveloped him. Evan pressed a cheek against his bare chest. He felt blessed not to share the room with Corey too. The youngster never tired of teasing Evan about his infatuation. It was all in good fun, but sometimes Corey’s remarks cut the more sensitive Evan to the quick.

  It didn’t bother Marcus much. He was more than secure in his masculinity and fondness for the female anatomy.

  Evan tightened the embrace. His words came out muffled against Marcus’s shoulder. “She did something tonight. Something she hasn’t ever done before.”

  He tensed. “Did she hurt you?”

  Despite his best effort to curb it, repugnance leaked into Marcus's voice. If she had harmed him in any way—well, he didn’t know what he’d do. Whatever he did, it would most likely be regrettable and just a little foolish.

  Evan stepped away and shook his head. He flopped onto his bed and looked over at Marcus with wet, miserable eyes. “No, I just know the potential is there. I mean, she was just staring at me. You know the cold look she gets when she’s thinking of cruel things?”

  Marcus offered a slow nod. He wouldn’t like where this was heading. He sat on the edge of his bed and removed his socks.

  He’d shot them into the dirty clothes hamper before Evan spoke again.

  “She’s going to do it. She’ll do it whether I’m okay with it or not. I think she’s just waiting for the right moment. She’ll do it out of spite since I refuse to do what she asks.” He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You know the last person she tried to turn didn’t work out so well. I don’t want to turn into some crazed flesh-eating zombie.”

  Marcus dragged fingers through his hair and sighed. “She promised she wouldn’t. Isabella said you were a lost cause.”

  Tears shimmered in Evan’s brown eyes. “She says she loves me, but she doesn’t. If she did, she’d accept me. I think she brought me into the clan because she had no idea I’m gay. Not at first. She still wants me to knock up some girl and have a ton of kids so the line won’t end with her. She even said she didn’t care if it was done with a turkey baster.”

  Evan turned his back to Marcus.

  “I’ll talk to her again. We have an agreement, and she’d better not go back on it.” Marcus clenched his fists and fought the urge to go back to the interrogation room. The need to hurt something, to pound it to pulp ached within him. It would be unrewarding to punish anyone but Isabella and right now, and he couldn’t afford to piss her off. She’d found his one and only weakness; Evan.

  Evan looked over his shoulder. “Don’t promise her anything, Marcus. It’s not worth it.”

  Marcus pulled back the sheet on his bed. “Do you think I’ve been around for one hundred and twenty years by being stupid?”

  He wished he could take away the pain and fear in Evan’s eyes. It was beyond him why he’d allowed himself to care for this pathetic, mortal creature. Sometimes he wished he still had the room to himself, but it had been his idea for Evan to stay here with him. It was the only way to protect him from the mistress at the time, and he would not go back on his promise.

  Evan cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Do you think Isabella will still want to speak to the girl? I mean, even if she gets the information she wants from Pete?”

  Marcus settled into bed. “Yeah, I imagine so.”

  “How’re we going to keep her from doing something stupid?”

  “Who, Isabella or Emily?”

  Evan yawned, fluffed his pillow and pulled the blanket up to his chin. “Both.”

  Emily’s guilt and Brenda’s constant glares overshadowed what should have been a happy homecoming. Within moments of her arrival, they’d had a lengthy argument that sent them to separate rooms.

  Emily woke up from an afternoon nap to the sound of slamming doors. She figured Brenda was still in a funk and decided to give her some time and space. That only lasted a few minutes. Emily couldn’t stand not knowing what her friend was doing.

  Brenda opened the door to toss an overnight bag into the hall. She smirked then went back into the room.

  Two overstuffed suitcases sat stacked beside the bedroom door.

  She’d even placed two plastic containers filled with shoes and handbags next to them. Emily’s stomach hollowed, and her mouth went dry.

  Brenda turned from her smashed dresser to drop a few items into another travel bag. “I can't stay here anymore. I’m going to stay at my mom’s in Florida for a while.”

  Emily eased onto the edge of the mattress to watch her friend dump make up into a travel case. “We’ve been through a lot, Brenda. You don’t have to leave.”

  “I’m scared, Emily. I just can’t stay.” She jerked a drawer open and gathered the rolled socks inside. “You shouldn’t either. They might come back to finish what they started.”

  Emily took a deep, calm breath. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Though the wounds were superficial, Brenda’s throat was covered by a thick wad of gauze. An angry gash on her left forearm required ten stitches. Emily had been sick with worry after the ambulance took her away. The idea that she would never see her friend again or that she might die had weighed on her mind. The knowledge that it was her fault, that she’d almost gotten someone she cared about killed, nearly tripped her over the edge of a breakdown.

  “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” Emily’s eyes stung, and her throat burned. They’d always leaned on each other when times got rough. Why did this time feel so different?

  Brenda rounded the end of the bed and sank beside her. The mattress creaked in protest to their combined weight. She laid her head against Emily’s shoulder and sighed. “I just don’t feel safe anymore, Em. Mom already bought a ticket. My flight leaves at the end of the week. After everything that has happened, how can you stay?”

  “What choice do I have?” Emily straightened her shoulders. She forced herself to smile. “I’m not going to cut and run. That’s what they want.”

  Brenda stood and brushed hands down the thighs of her bright orange shorts. “But you’ve always run from your problems. I guess it’s different since you own the place, huh?” The accusation hung heavy in her voice.

  “I didn’t ask for any of this, Brenda. You know I didn’t.”

  Her friend's brown eyes glittered with fury. She stabbed a finger at Emily. “You never ask for anything, do you? Everything has always been handed to you on a silver platter.”

  Emily got to her feet and crossed arms over her chest. “I said you could have the damned house. I don’t want it! It’s more trouble than it’s worth.” Betrayal left her
nauseous and the urge to strike her friend was a strong one.

  Brenda’s laughter was deafening in the room. “You had a chance to make something of your life, but you had to come crawling back instead.”

  “My parents are dead because of it!” Fury and grief battled within her. How dare Brenda throw that in her face! “Do you know how it feels to wake up in the hospital and find out your parents are dead and buried? That your sister, your flesh and blood, blames you for something you had no control over? Of course you don’t!”

  “You could have had a decent life in Arizona. You could have started over.” Brenda zipped the suitcase and tossed it next to the others. “Instead, you decided to come back and a whole shit storm followed you.”

  “Shut up!” Memories of Arizona were like salt in raw wounds. “You don't know what you’re talking about.”

  “Greg was a decent enough guy. You should have worked it out with him and popped out a couple kids. Don't you ever wonder what things would've been like if you hadn’t run from your problems?”

  Emily blocked Brenda’s path. “First of all, Greg was far from a decent guy. He was a con artist who used me to rip people off. He was just a few steps away from being put in prison.”

  Brenda tried to sidestep her.

  Emily gripped her friend’s arm. “Secondly, he not only verbally abused me, but physically too. Life in Arizona was hard, and I spent all my time being scared. All I wanted was to come home. This shit storm didn’t follow me. It was already here.”

  Brenda crumpled onto the bed. She pulled a pillow up to her chest and looked at Emily with liquid eyes. “But if you stay and fight, you’re going to get hurt.”

  Emily didn’t know what had gotten into Brenda, but she wanted no part of it. She had nothing more to say. Brenda’s venomous tongue had poisoned the remains of their friendship, and she was unsure if she’d be able to find forgiveness this time.

  Brenda stared at her from the bed. “You know I didn’t mean those things I said about Greg, right?”

  Emily moved toward the door. “Maybe leaving would be a good idea.”