Blood Torn (Blackthorn Book 3)

by Lindsay J. Pryor

  Three single metal beds sat along the wall opposite. Beds that were bolted to the floor, housed only with stained mattresses. Up above them, the barred and partially boarded-up window barely let in enough moonlight let alone daylight – something she had remembered well as she’d slipped in and out of consciousness during the time she’d been there.

  In the far top right-hand corner behind the door was the camera she had no doubt Marid used for more than just monitoring his captives’ wellbeing. A single metal toilet and sink were tucked beneath it.

  Jask glanced across at her, unease in his eyes. He knew as much as she did that she’d been lucky to survive.

  ‘Like I said,’ she whispered, ‘he should have been wiped out a long time ago.’

  Jask stepped back out of the room to turn his attention to the only other door down there – this one at the end of the corridor. This one firmly shut.

  She looked up at Jask, at his narrowed eyes.

  ‘What is it?’ she whispered.

  ‘Stay here,’ he said, holding his palm up to her as he proceeded cautiously ahead.

  ‘Like hell I will,’ she whispered curtly, following behind him.

  But as his eyes locked back on hers, flashing disquiet, discomfort tightened her chest. ‘Jask?’

  He continued on down the corridor.

  And stopped a couple of feet away from the door.

  He reached out and turned the handle.

  The back of his hand went to his nose instantly.

  The stench was overwhelming enough for her, let alone him. She instinctively took a step back, barely having glanced at the blood-stained walls before recoiling.

  She spun away, facing the corridor again, and gasped for air.

  When she turned back around, Jask had stepped inside the room, just a foot, but enough to take in the full extent of the slaughter.

  And slaughter was a kind way of putting it from what she had glimpsed.

  ‘Marid?’ she asked across her shoulder.

  He nodded. ‘What’s left of him.’

  She cupped her hand over her mouth – not with sorrow, not with regret, but a pure physical response to the stench of his remains. ‘Recent?’

  ‘Last twenty-four hours, I’d say.’

  She turned around, composed herself and stepped into the doorway behind him. She always thought she’d be able to handle it – could never understand why on movies so many vomited at the first crime scene. And it never irritated her more than when it was the woman who ran out first.

  But right there and then, she knew that was exactly what would have happened if she had had anything in her stomach to spill. Instead she wretched dryly, gulping back the acidic taste it generated in her mouth.

  He’d been torn limb from limb to the point the room looked like nothing more than a deranged butcher had been left loose in an abattoir, cleaving up whatever he could find.

  She pulled away again, taking a few steps back down the corridor. ‘What the fuck…’ she whispered, her body cold, her hands numb against the heat of her face.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ Jask said, grabbing her arm and leading her back up the steps.

  ‘Who’s done this? That’s got to be a third species, right? I mean he hadn’t just been hacked up – they literally tore him apart. Do you think it’s them? The ones that came after The Alliance? I mean, what the fuck is going on here, Jask?’

  He led her back up the steps, back out into the corridor above, his eyes alert, his tension unsettling her even more.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ she asked, struggling to keep up with his pace as he burst through the door, marching back past the play area.

  ‘We’re out of here,’ he said, checking over both shoulders, scanning every section of the estate they passed back through.

  ‘This must be something to do with The Alliance. The coincidence is too great. But why would they go after Marid too? Just how desperate are they to cover their tracks?’

  ‘All we know is we just lost our best and only lead.’ He frowned as he looked across at her. He stopped, Sophia doing the same. He wiped some damp hair from her cheek in a move that was surprisingly tender. ‘You’re trembling.’

  ‘I’m cold,’ she said. ‘What do you expect?’

  ‘You’re also in shock.’

  ‘I’m fine. I can handle a dead body or two. Especially vampires.’ She rubbed her hand across her numb nose before folding her arms. ‘Who doesn’t care about the code? Who’s willing to come in here and take on The Alliance as well as tear one of their own limb from limb?’ It all seemed too obvious. ‘This has to be down to Caleb, right?’

  ‘This isn’t his style.’

  ‘Murder, mutilation and torture? Are you kidding me?’

  ‘Marid did his job. He delivered you. It makes no sense for Caleb to want to kill him. Besides, if Caleb wanted you he would have come after you and he would have found you, not hired someone. Marid is the last vampire Caleb would get entangled with. And he would also have been down there in those ruins handling things personally. Hiding behind others isn’t his style.’

  ‘Caleb’s a monster and everybody knows it. Say what you like, that’s proof enough to me.’

  ‘It’s not proof of anything.’

  ‘It’s proof enough that I have to get my sisters out of there. That I–’

  ‘Your sisters?’

  She slammed her eyes shut as if it would take away what she’d said.

  When she opened them again, she expected to be greeted by a Jask-style grilling. Instead he was staring across her shoulder into the darkness beyond, his eyes narrowed, watchful.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered, her heart pounding painfully.

  ‘Vampires,’ he whispered back.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jask picked up three different scents. Intense scents.

  ‘Trouble?’ Sophia asked.

  ‘They’re keeping quiet – three of them from what I can detect.’

  ‘An ambush?’

  ‘Taking me on, there’s something more to this.’

  Much more to it if there were only three of them. Even inebriated vampires weren’t that stupid. In a space like that, with such little interference from any other scents or noises, they were easy to detect and locate.

  Sophia stared out into the darkness. ‘Do you think they followed us from Hemlick’s?’

  ‘Maybe.’ He glanced back at her. ‘Do you still have the other syringe?’

  She hesitated for a moment then shook her head. ‘Fresh from the source it is,’ she said with a shrug.

  He looked back into the darkness. ‘We need one of them alive. For questioning.’

  ‘Then I guess that’ll be down to you.’

  He scanned the darkness for movement, for shadows. He could detect outlines as easily as humans reading a heat sensor. And they were hiding. ‘They’re not striking.’

  ‘Just watching?’

  He caught a glimpse. Not just watching – backing away.

  And he knew why. Just as he’d suspected, they weren’t out to get them – they were informants. Informants that realised they’d been spotted.

  ‘Fuck,’ he hissed.

  He didn’t want to leave her, but he’d never catch them with her alongside him.

  He pulled off his jacket and handed it to her.

  ‘Stay here!’ he demanded. ‘Anything comes near you, you don’t play the heroine, you just scream – you understand me?’

  He didn’t have time to wait for her response.

  Jask sped into the darkness. Vampires were fast, but not as fast as lycans. And very few lycans were as fast as him.

  They knew to split up. One took an abrupt nine o’clock turn to the left. The other two, further ahead, split up with less of a distance between them – one taking a one o’clock turn, the other three o’clock.

  Nine o’clock vampire was hightailing it back into the density of the estate whilst the others were heading off site. If he lost him
, nine o’clock would not only be harder to trace but had the potential to give a few nasty surprises along the way.

  Besides, Phia was back there.

  He’d have to take him out swiftly and cleanly if he stood any chance of catching up with the others.

  The wind swept through his hair, the drizzle masking his face as he kept his focus fixed ahead, his feet barely skimming the ground as he pursued his prey.

  He vaulted one-handed over the railings before leaping over the discarded crates and household items in his path like hurdles. All the time, he navigated as if he were in familiar territory – assessing risk, height and depth before he even reached the obstacles.

  He was already closing the gap between him and the vampire despite the latter moving at an admirable pace.

  Until nine o’clock took a sharp right and ploughed into one of the abandoned buildings.

  Jask didn’t bother to be slowed down by the door that had clearly done so to his opponent. Seeing the pane-free window beside it, he lifted his legs, curled forward and swept through, landing nimbly beyond.

  Catching sight of nine o’clock slamming through the double doors at the other end of the corridor, Jask used the wall behind him as a kick-off and sprinted ahead. He cleared what was left of the corridor in seconds, bursting through the doors to outside.

  The vampire had barely reached the bottom of the stone steps.

  Jask used the top step like a springboard, twisting mid-air, aligning himself perfectly with his target.

  He wrapped his arm around nine o’clock’s neck, using it as a pivot, snapping it with ease, before landing nimbly again, his feet and fists hitting the ground simultaneously.

  He looked back up the steps.

  He was cutting it fine. But it wasn’t impossible. He’d covered greater distances, pursued even faster prey in equally short times. It had been a while, but his heart was pounding, his senses tuned, adrenaline fuelling him with all the energy he needed to work his inherent skills to full effect.

  Jask ploughed back up the steps three at a time.

  They’d head back to the hub. They’d know it was the only chance they stood of escaping him if they mingled with as many other scents as they could. Anything else – anything into the more sparse or lower populated areas that time of night would be suicide.

  And to best take advantage of distance and time, to put his predatory skills to best effect until he could pick up their scent trail again, there was only one way he could go.

  Jask sped back along the corridor but instead of ploughing back through the window, he took a sharp left. He ascended the stairs three at a time again, his powerful thighs enabling him to clear floor after floor as if aided by a fast-moving escalator. He burst out of the fire doors onto the rooftop. He scanned the route to the exit from the estate, calculated the number of flat roofs that he had detected on their way in there.

  It was a trait of every lycan – wherever you were, for whatever purpose, know the territory, know the threat points and know the quickest exit route.

  He allowed himself three minutes to make up for lost ground, for lost time.

  He lowered into the sprint position, his knuckles flexing against concrete. He rocked back twice before feeling his energy peak. And, with only a few bounding steps before reaching the edge, he cleared the twenty-foot space between the buildings with ease.

  Like boulders across a river, he leapt onto roof after roof, using disused cables, discarded scaffolding poles, anything he came across that would prove useful for leverage. He navigated pipework and external fire steps with nimble ease before landing as far as his route would allow.

  They’d gained more distance than he’d anticipated, but they’d also made the mistake of re-finding each other, both knowing the route that was the best option for their survival.

  Jask crouched, his eyes darting between one and then the other in the distance.

  It didn’t matter which one he took out first, only that the other saw it.

  He leapt off the building, landing on the roof below and then the next, then an outbuilding before finally grounding. He leapt over the skip, cleared the upturned, burnt-out car and pounded the concrete like it was made of rubber.

  One o’clock was his target. And, as he glanced over his shoulder and realised just that, the vampire picked up pace.

  But not pace enough for the lycan leader, who had no intention of letting him escape.

  Jask sprung off the ground, closed the gap, took the vampire down onto the rough terrain with him, rolling and scuffling until he finally wrapped his solid forearm around his neck and wrenched.

  Bones cracked.

  The vampire’s body fell limp.

  Jask’s sharp gaze locked on three o’clock who had made the mistake of stopping to look back, just as he’d hoped he would.

  Three o’clock had the sense not to run, but to just take a few wary steps backwards as Jask got back to his feet again.

  Even from twenty-five feet away, he could hear the vampire’s heartbeat race at almost human rates from his exertion. Now, no doubt, equally in panic.

  ‘Who do you work for?’ Jask asked, steadily closing the gap between them.

  The vampire’s eyes narrowed. He knew he was onto a loser, but the pride indicative of his species was still there.

  ‘Whoever it is isn’t going to help you now,’ Jask exclaimed. ‘And we both know it.’

  The vampire glanced across his shoulder to the nearest cluster of buildings – all only one-storey. Even though he knew Jask would outrun him, his powerful sense of self-preservation wouldn’t allow him to roll over just yet.

  ‘Are you anything to do with what happened to Marid?’ Jask persisted.

  The vampire genuinely looked confused at the question.

  ‘Why are you here?’ Jask asked. ‘Why are you following us?’

  Still the vampire remained silent.

  ‘You were spying on us,’ Jask said. ‘You were spying on her. So I’ll ask you again, who were you reporting back to?’

  The vampire cut his losses. He turned and ran towards his only hope for cover.

  Jask brought him to the ground seconds later.

  He got to his feet and lifted the vampire with him. He slammed him to the wall, one hand around his throat as he slid him two feet off the ground.

  ‘Talk,’ Jask said sternly.

  The vampire inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose, his eyes locked in defiance on Jask’s despite his fear.

  Jask tightened his grip. ‘There’s a lot I can do to you before your death,’ he reminded him. ‘And you know it.’

  ‘There’s a bounty on her,’ the vampire finally said. ‘You’d be best to cut your losses.’

  ‘So why not try to claim her now? Because I was there?’

  ‘Cut your losses, Jask,’ he repeated.

  ‘Who set the bounty?’

  The vampire glowered back at him.

  Jask pressed a little closer. ‘Protecting them? Or protecting yourself?’

  The vampire looked away.

  His reticence was insulting enough, but to be more fearful of whoever set the bounty than him was one step too far in light of recent circumstances.

  Jask pulled the vampire from the wall and threw him down onto all fours. He moved in behind him, jammed his knee into the small of his back. He drew back the vampire’s arm so it was extended painfully behind him, and slammed his fist into his shoulder blade to hold him in place before yanking the vampire’s arm with the other.

  The vampire cried out as his wrist broke, as his shoulder shattered.

  Jask stood back as the vampire slumped to the floor, sneering in pain into the concrete before forcing himself up with his good arm.

  Jask circled in front of him. ‘There are a lot more bones left,’ he said, before circling around the back of him again as he rolled up his sleeves. ‘And you’ve got a lot of blood to lose. So, who set the bounty?’

  ‘Fucking…’ the vampire hissed be
fore sensibly stopping himself, instead spitting at the ground.

  ‘Who set the bounty?’

  ‘Someone you do not want to be fucking with,’ the vampire declared, glowering behind at Jask.

  Jask stepped up to his side, kicked him hard and precisely in the stomach and then in the jaw.

  The vampire collapsed to the ground, squirming on the concrete and spitting out blood.

  Jask grabbed him by the throat, lifted him off the ground and slammed him against the wall again. ‘You should know I’m not known for my patience. Now who the fuck do you work for? Or do I have to start making you bleed properly?’

  The vampire’s attention shot past Jask’s shoulder.

  But even in his distraction, Jask had already sensed movement. Had already picked up on the approaching scent.

  * * *

  Sophia had hesitated less than a couple of minutes before she’d pursued Jask.

  As she hurried in the direction he had headed, she knew her chances of catching up with him were minimal. But it wasn’t just because he might need her – her own common sense told her the shorter the distance between them, the quicker he could get back to her if she did scream.

  She scanned the darkness, checking three hundred and sixty degrees in occasional steady spins as she ploughed on through the estate. All around her was silent other than the distant beat from the hub resounding and echoing through the avenues between the buildings.

  She couldn’t see Jask. She couldn’t hear Jask. And as only the partial moonlight led the way, the sense of isolation crept over her skin.

  She clutched his jacket tighter to her chest.

  It could have been a ploy on the ambushers’ part – to separate them.

  But Jask would have had that in his calculations. He wouldn’t have just run off and left her if he believed that. Jask had been thinking something else. The urgency that he’d sped off with had emanated purpose – a purpose she had to trust.

  She should have stayed behind. She should have waited like he’d told her to.

  But the thought of all three vampires turning on him had wrenched her stomach. It could have been a trap for him. Jask might have been strong, he might have been fast, he might have been powerful, but taking on three vampires?