by Lee Colgin
Lojan glanced up from the tray she was studying, tilting her head as she took Gianni in. He remained placid, attempting to infuse innocent curiosity into his expression.
“I’m cataloguing your blood samples. They’ve been shown to induce a rapid healing rate in humans. If we can generate an excess synthetically, it would be the greatest thing to hit the market since penicillin.”
The Vampire Council would not want this secret exposed. Gianni was torn. Saving people was noble, but not at the expense of being hunted by all of humanity. Not that he could do anything about it now.
“Is it working?”
Lojan took off her glasses and set them on the table. “No, it’s not.”
That didn’t bode well for Gianni; they’d keep taking samples.
“Why do you want to know?” Lojan’s gaze narrowed, her lips a tight line.
“When I forget to feel terrified, I’m bored and lonely. I thought maybe you’d talk to me.”
“I see.” She stood and approached the bars, her lips pressed tight together like she was solving a puzzle. “There’s no need for you to suffer unnecessarily. I won’t invite your interruptions, but if you batch your questions, I’ll make time for them each day before we begin. In the meantime, I’ll see to it you get some books. I take it that will suffice?”
He nodded. “Yes, thank you.” It was more than Gianni had expected. Books would be brilliant. He braced himself to ask the question burning a hole in his brain. “One more, please, before you go.”
She waited.
“What’s going to happen to me?”
She waved it off. “Nothing. You’ll be cared for—fed, sheltered, clothed—as long as you behave.” Lojan said all this like it was a perfectly reasonable arrangement. “Are you afraid you’re going to die?”
No, I’m worried I’m going to live.
Franklin
It was a colossal betrayal—another one—leading a team of vampires armed to the teeth directly into the Foundry. Franklin had an idea to mitigate the collateral damage, but he couldn’t guarantee people wouldn’t be hurt. He trusted Oswald about as far as he could throw him, and he had to put a plan into action to stop the sovereign from suddenly ordering everyone’s death.
As they neared the complex, Franklin texted every contact in his phone stationed at this location.
This is Lieutenant Franklin Denhart. Get everyone out immediately. I have confirmation a large pack of vampires are on a mission to rescue the one in the lab. They won’t hesitate to kill bystanders. Repeat: Get everyone out immediately.
Under the circumstances, it was the best he could manage. He sent the text early enough for people to take cover, but too late for a defense strategy to be enacted. Now he could only hope for the best.
They arrived in six black SUVs. With Franklin to punch in the key code, they were able to coast right into the underground lot closest to the lab. In and out.
As they exited the vehicles, alarm bells rang.
“Mm…somebody knows we’re here.” Oswald appeared rather unconcerned. With twelve personal guards spread around him and another dozen following behind, of course he felt safe. The man didn’t even carry a gun; he left that to his lackeys.
“This way.” Franklin indicated the stairwell and led the vampires through the underground labyrinth toward the lab.
The hallway was clear, a good sign his message had been taken seriously. Franklin tore through the compound, vampires hot on his heels.
Around the corner, a cadet scurried behind a door and slammed it shut. Another froze in terror.
“Get out. We’re not after you—just go,” Franklin yelled before the vampires could get trigger-happy. The cadet ran ahead, dashing down an open corridor. Good, they were headed the other way. Franklin pressed on. It was only a little farther. Any minute now an armed team would be sent to intercept. The faster they moved, the better.
Franklin stopped at the entrance to the lab. He punched in his code for security clearance and held still for the retina scan.
Nothing happened.
The outer door to the lab remained closed. He tried again. Nothing.
“Damn it. My code’s not working.” He had to hand it to the Scourge—deactivating his clearance had taken them only minutes. No matter. They’d come prepared.
Oswald was already motioning to another vampire with a flick of his fingers.
“Stand back,” said Oswald’s lackey. He held a small explosive, which he affixed next to the locking mechanism. Everyone backed up and faced away from the blast. It detonated with an ear-splitting bang.
The door swung open wildly, hanging sideways off its hinges. Franklin barged through.
The labs weren’t empty as he’d hoped. Apparently, the crew there had thought the door would hold.
“Get out. We’re just here for the vampire,” Franklin yelled. Scientists and researchers scrambled for cover. No one there was prepared to fight. “This way.” Franklin made for Gianni’s cell, hoping the vampires would ignore the bystanders.
No such luck. Shots rang out as vampires fired at the scattering people.
“Stop it! We don’t have time for this,” Franklin ordered. “A defense team could be here any second, and then it will be a bloodbath. Hurry!”
They’d gone over this. Stupid bloodthirsty undead assholes. “We’re nearly there.”
Oswald walked calmly amid the chaos. Only an immortal being accustomed to power could possess that amount of insouciance toward their surroundings. Franklin wanted to kill him all the more.
They were almost there.
“He’s this way. Come on,” Franklin ordered, sprinting ahead.
The door to the lab holding Gianni was unlocked. Franklin pushed it open, relief welling in his chest when he spied the vampire standing in the center of the cage. He looked spooked, but very much alert and fit enough to run. He would have heard the blast and the gunshots. Had he thought Franklin was coming for him?
Gianni’s eyes widened when he saw him. Franklin reached out for him, but two strong pairs of hands gripped his shoulders, restraining him.
“The fuck?” Franklin protested, struggling against them.
His arms were wrestled behind his back and fastened securely with zip ties as Oswald pushed past him toward Gianni.
“Hey!” Franklin thundered. “Let me go.” He flailed and kicked to no avail. The plastic bit sharply into his wrists. More hands dragged him backward, out of the room.
Franklin strained for a last look at Gianni, but Gianni’s eyes were fixed on Oswald.
Gianni
The blast had startled him awake, and the following gunfire sent chills down his spine. Franklin burst into the room. So the slayer’s note had been true. He was rescuing Gianni. Hope swelled within his chest, expanding his ribcage. It was the first deep breath he’d taken since he’d gotten to this awful place. Was he really going to be freed?
Oswald.
Franklin was dragged away, and Oswald stood before him, reaching through the bars, heedless of the silver.
“Gianni, my love. What have they done to you?”
Gianni stared at him, too tongue-tied to answer, but he came to the bars and gave Oswald his hands.
“Don’t worry, I’m here to rescue you. Lars!” he called, and one of his guards approached.
“You’ll need to stand back,” said one of Oswald’s cronies. Gianni had never paid them much attention. While he’d been the sovereign’s consort, he’d outranked them. Gianni let go of Oswald and fled to the back of his cage.
Oswald gestured to him. “We’re going to blow the lock off your bars. Turn your back.”
With one last glance around the room, Gianni did as he was told. Franklin was nowhere to be seen, but Gianni couldn’t worry about him now. He would take his chances with Oswald.
His eardrums rebelled at the blast, ringing loudly even after it was over. Oswald was on him in a flash, wrapped around him like a long-lost lover. Gianni stiffened, but only for a s
econd. The comfort was too tempting. He melted into the embrace and felt his eyes fill with tears.
“Not to worry, little love, I’m here now,” Oswald crooned. “You’re safe with me.”
Even as the words filtered past the ringing, Gianni knew they were false. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted to be safe. Oswald was hands down preferable to this damn lab.
“Get me out of here,” Gianni said.
Oswald wrapped a hand around his waist and swept him from the room, a bunch of vampire thugs surrounding them.
Wrapped in a blanket and tucked against Oswald’s chest like a doll, Gianni glanced around the SUV with suspicion. They were still inside the Scourge’s evil complex. He wouldn’t rest easy until they’d cleared the city’s borders.
Oswald pet his hair absently. The touch was a dichotomy between reassurance and nuisance. Gianni both preened for and rebelled against Oswald’s possessiveness. For now, it was easier not to resist. Ignoring his mixed emotions, he sank into Oswald’s body and watched out the windows for signs of trouble.
He didn’t have to wait long. A team of slayers, maybe forty people deep, stormed the parking deck and began shooting at the cars. Gianni recognized only one: Hutch, front and center. Gianni ducked instinctively, but Oswald never flinched.
“Nothing to fear, pet, bulletproof glass and bullet-resistant tires. Mere cosmetic damage is all we’ll suffer. There, there.” Oswald stroked his back.
Gianni pressed his face into Oswald’s familiar chest, closed his eyes, and willed the gunshots to stop. He breathed in the elaborate scent of the sovereign’s fussy cologne: bergamot, thyme, vanilla. The car’s engine revved, picking up speed, and the gunfire faded into the distance.
Gianni took a deep breath and straightened his back, putting a sliver of distance between them. A glance outside confirmed they’d gotten away home free. He should have been relieved but was too numb for feelings. He wasn’t sure how an inquiry about Franklin would be received. He asked anyway.
“What happened to the slayer I saw before you came in?”
“Ah, the man who imprisoned you? I have him now. He’ll suffer for what he put you through.”
Gianni’s stomach sank. He hated Franklin for the betrayal but found no comfort in the thought of him locked in Oswald’s basement cell.
“Did he help you find me?”
“With some persuasion, yes. He broke rather easily. Weak-willed, that one.”
It could have gone down that way, but Oswald treated lies and truths as tools to support whatever outcome he desired. Gianni couldn’t trust it, and he couldn’t rule it out. Had they tortured Franklin into aiding the rescue mission as Oswald would have him believe, or had Franklin been the architect all along? Recalling the determined expression Franklin wore as he barged in, the hope in the slayer’s eyes, and the surprise at being restrained, Gianni doubted Oswald’s words.
He let the subject drop. Pushing further would only give Oswald information to use against him.
Gianni let the car’s engine lull him. He’d gone from one prison to another, but at least these restraints would be familiar.
18
Basement
Franklin
Blindfolded and restrained, Franklin was manhandled from the vehicle and into a building. He was forced down several flights of stairs to what was surely an underground cell; the metal clink of doors closing told him that much. Unable to stop his fall as he was thrown to the floor, the jarring impact took the breath from his chest. A kick to the ribs left him gasping for air. He braced for more punishment, not knowing when or where the next blow would land. A boot struck his shin. A punch to the stomach. Another kick in the ribs. Even after his captors tore off the blindfold and left, he remained curled on his side.
Gianni was free.
He kept repeating the mantra to himself, to remember the objective had been accomplished. It didn’t matter what happened to Franklin now. He deserved this. From the start of this plan, he’d known it was a possibility, as was his death, which could happen at any time.
If they kept him alive, he might get out. The Scourge would come eventually. The GPS chip in his neck was a beacon they wouldn’t ignore. But it wouldn’t be a rescue mission, not for Franklin, not after what he’d done.
He could only hope Gianni would be out by then. Surely the vampire wouldn’t stay with Oswald. He’d leave, start over somewhere fresh, forget all this. Move on. Forget Franklin.
Franklin rolled his shoulders, and pain flared through his restrained arms. He tested small movements in his legs. Not as bad. His torso, back, and ribs hurt. If the spike of pain each time he inhaled was any indication, there might be a broken rib or two. It could have been worse. Hell, he’d had worse in training.
He rolled to his knees, shuffled to the damp stone wall, and leaned against it. Definitely a basement, cold and dank. Too dark to make out much. A musty smell. No windows. Farther below ground than an ordinary basement. It took three flights of stairs to get here.
Franklin’s hands were almost completely numb, the zip ties slowing circulation to a crawl. He could still feel his fingers. At least he was pretty sure he could. It was hard to tell through the loss of sensation.
There was a pocketknife in his pocket they hadn’t found. Little good it would do him, unable to open it, but knowing it was there was still somewhat comforting. They’d taken both his and Gianni’s phones, not that he’d get a signal this far below ground.
Sometime later, Franklin was dozing when the slamming of a door startled him alert. Boots pounded down a wooden staircase. As he was squinting to see who approached, the lightbulb blinked on, blinding him. He heard a key unlocking his cell and the gate opening. Just as his vision was returning, rough hands stood him up and gripped his forearm, and a blade sliced through the zip ties.
His arms swung free, dead at his sides. The pain would set in any moment as blood returned to the numb flesh. Franklin braced himself.
“Boss wants you presentable when he comes to speak with you.” It was a vampire, young-looking, but that didn’t mean anything. Male. Maybe six feet tall, shorter than Franklin but stocky, built strong. If it came to a fight, his bulk would make him slow.
“Freshen up. Eat something,” he ordered.
A second vampire carted in a series of buckets, this one smaller, lithe, built for stealth. Franklin thought of the knife in his pocket, but this wasn’t the time. If he could incapacitate the small one, he might be able to outrun the big one… Tempting, but no. He didn’t know enough about their schedules or how many were housed in this facility. Besides, pins and needles were beginning their searing creep from shoulders to elbow. He couldn’t trust his reflexes right now.
Bigs and Smalls left him alone, blessedly with the bulb still burning. The basement was lined with cells much like his own, but he was currently the only occupant. Franklin eyed the buckets. Two were half full with water, one mostly empty with a layer of sawdust covering the bottom. So these would be his sink, shower, and toilet. Better than nothing.
He reserved one bucket for drinking. With the other, he wet his hands and splashed his face. The third he used for its intended purpose, then pushed it away to the corner.
Oswald did not keep him waiting. The sovereign appeared at the top of the staircase and surveyed his quarry from a distance. “Well, well, well… Have you made yourself at home? Are you enjoying my hospitality?”
Franklin had nothing to say. He stared openly while Oswald descended the stairs and approached the bars. The vampire wore an elaborate house robe of crushed velvets in oranges and browns, belted around the middle and hanging to his ankles. Did he ever wear ordinary clothes?
“We have some things to discuss, you and I.”
“Is Gianni all right?”
“The little one is asleep in my bed, where he should be, and that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”
“Let him go.”
Oswald laughed, his mouth a twisted grin. “Let him go, he sa
ys,” the vampire mocked. “As if Gianni was my prisoner and not yours? Really, the arrogance. I should have you whipped. I might. Gianni is free to do as he pleases, and he’s chosen my bed. In a moment, I’ll leave you to dwell on that.”
Gianni wouldn’t really stay with Oswald, would he? Not after the way the asshole treated him. If Gianni stayed, he’d be in danger. Surely he’d leave. Franklin could convince him—if Gianni would speak with him.
“If he’s free to do as he pleases, tell him I’d like to see him. Let him come visit me.”
Oswald tsked. “That is precisely what we need to speak of. I realize it’s only a matter of time before Gianni insists on seeing you. I won’t have you interfering with our…reconciliation.” The word came out slowly and over-enunciated. “Listen carefully. You were tortured into helping rescue Gianni. Say it.”
Franklin only stared. So Oswald would have him lie to Gianni? Franklin had had enough of that in his lifetime. He wouldn’t do it.
“I see. I thought you might need a little persuasion. Gianni may be free to do as he pleases now, but that can change on my whim. You make a problem for me? I’ll make a bigger one for Gianni.” Oswald gave a little shrug, as if this were no big deal and not someone’s life he was ruining. He lifted a brow. “Say it.”
Mouth dry, Franklin ground out the lie. “I was tortured until I agreed to help you rescue Gianni.”
“I knew you’d see it my way. Do be sure to be convincing. Now, I’ll leave you to your thoughts…of Gianni…in my bed.” Oswald turned with a flourish, his obnoxious robe swishing around his legs.
Franklin focused on his mantra.
Gianni was free.
Gianni
Gianni was trapped.
Nestled in a sea of soft Egyptian sheets and down comforters, curled against Oswald’s side, head pillowed on his arm, Gianni wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. How would he ever break free of Oswald’s sphere of influence a second time?