Adam hauled her across the room to the wall with the window. He kicked a pile of debris out of his way and then made a little noise of delight. “This might work!”
Katelina tried in vain to save herself. “Whatever you’re planning, he won’t care. He doesn’t want me anymore. I thought you knew that. You said Loren asked you-”
Her words were lost in a scream as Adam lifted her in the air by her arms. Her shoulders popped and her arms bent in ways she was sure they were never meant to. He used the rope to hang her from a hook in the wall by her wrists, then stepped back to survey his handiwork. “Loren just said you needed a ride, he never said why. It’s not a sewing circle, you know.” He cocked his head to one side and addressed Nirel. “She’s right though, he won’t come for this. We need a little more incentive.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “If you were what’s-his name, what would make you come sprinting back here?”
“What’s-his-name?” Didn’t they even know who they were after? Were they that stupid?
Nirel stepped closer and shrugged. “I dunno.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Maybe if we make her scream? Kateesha said we could kill her if we wanted to, so we don’t have to worry too much.”
“Kateesha?” the word came out a slurred groan of pain that they ignored.
“All right,” Nirel agreed. “Then maybe we should give ‘im something to smell?”
Adam grinned and stepped back. “That’s the first good idea you’ve had! And since you thought of it, I’ll let you have the honors.”
Nirel nodded and moved to stand before her. Katelina stared at him with terrified, confused eyes. He’d said Kateesha. But they’d been with Kariss just the other day. Unless Kariss was with Kateesha and not Oren? She tried to think, but her arms hurt too bad, and it drown out the logical line of thought.
Adam cleared his throat loudly. “Are you planning to do something, or just stare her to death?”
“I am, I am,” Nirel assured him with obvious irritation. Then he rolled his eyes and stepped so close that Katelina could smell his breath. “’e’s always in a ‘urry.”
She whimpered, her body frozen in fear, as he opened her black coat. He ran his eyes over her thoughtfully, as if trying to decide what would get the loudest reaction. With his mind made up, he curled his lips back from his fangs and bit into her right breast, tearing through her sweatshirt and into the flesh beneath.
She screamed, and tried to fight off horrific flash backs. Troy and Claudius in the basement; Nirel and Adam in the secret room. The past and the present began to mix in a blur of pain and fear, and she fought to keep from drowning in it.
“She’s not screaming loud enough,” Adam commented with a frown. “Do I have to do everything? Get out of the way.” With a sweep of his arm he cast his partner aside, and drew out his knife. His face was expressionless as he raised it and thrust the blade into the spot above her collar bone where Jorick had left his mark.
Her screams echoed in the tiny room and he nodded encouragingly. “Yes, yes. Make some noise. Get his attention! Call to him!”
Nirel drew close, his chin still dark with her blood. He licked his lips, then eyed her hungrily. “Scream ‘is name,” he taunted as he pulled back her coat and tugged her sweatshirt up to reveal her naked hip. “Yell for ‘im!”
She tried to bite back the words they wanted her to shout, but as Adam shoved the knife into her again and Nirel bit into her side, she surrendered. She screamed for Nirel to stop drinking from her. She screamed for Adam to stop twisting the knife above her collar bone and, most of all, she screamed for Jorick to come and kill them both.
Adam pulled the knife out of her and took a step back. He suddenly realized what his partner was doing, and delivered a sharp blow to his head that made him stumble.
“Don't drain her yet, you idiot!”
Nirel rubbed his injury and glared. “I’m not drainin’ ‘er. Just makin’ ‘er shout like we wanted.”
“Well she can’t shout if you kill her, now can she?”
Hot tears coursed down Katelina’s face as the two vampires argued. It was like a sick comedy routine; “Who’s on First?” with all the names wrong. They stood there, bickering slap stick style, while sharp, numbing pain shot up and down her arms. She was sure they were out of joint, or maybe even broken. It hurt too badly for her to tell. Her breast and hip throbbed from Nirel’s fangs, and the place where Adam had stabbed her burned like fire, and still they argued. She was going to die while they smacked one another.
Die. That was a word she’d thought before. It was strange, but this time the belief didn’t come with spastic terror like it had the other times, only a sick, calm certainty. Jorick wasn’t going to come. He wasn’t going to rush back to save someone he’d already discarded; guilt or no.
Her eyes looked past Adam and Nirel, to the portrait of Velnya. It lay on its side against the wall and her large, violet eyes stared back sadly. In a fit of fury, Katelina had to bite back the urge to scream at her accusingly. What had Jorick’s dark princess ever suffered in his name? What had she done except live in luxury and ignorance, safe from a soiled world? Velnya was his dark angel, but Katelina was the one who was going to die for him.
“We shoulda stuck to the plan,” Nirel argued. “You’re always improvisin’!”
“We can kill two birds with one stone this way!” Adam snapped. “Kateesha wants him, not her. She was just supposed to be bait to get him there! But if we can just knock him out and take him ourselves it’ll be better.”
“What’s she want ‘im for, anyway?”
“I don’t know! Does it matter?” Adam glared at his partner. “She pays good, so it’s worth it.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” He looked thoughtful. “So are you plannin’ to go back to the War coven after this?”
Adam snorted. “No. I only signed on coz I was bored. With the cash we make off of this, we can go pay for some fun.”
“If we ever get it.” Nirel looked around impatiently. “ ‘e should be coming. It don’t take that long.”
“I hope so,” Adam agreed. He glanced towards the ruined door. “Remember, don’t hurt him too bad. Kateesha doesn’t want him damaged.” He broke off to gaze at Katelina and sucked air through his teeth thoughtfully. “On second thought, here.” He turned to Nirel and held out the knife. “You keep her screaming until he shows up and I’ll catch him when he comes through the door.”
Nirel took the blade, but asked sulkily, “Why do you get to do it?”
“I'm bigger.” Adam gave a “that’s the way it goes” shrug and then crossed the room and crouched by the ruined door. He peered into the dim hallway, then glanced back to his partner. “You might want to stick her again - and see if you can get more volume this time.”
Nirel shrugged, then met Katelina’s terrified eyes. “Sorry, love, but it’s back to business, eh?”
She whimpered in expectant terror and prayed that this ended quickly. There was nothing else left to pray for.
Nirel lifted her shirt and plunged the knife into her hip, just above the waist band of her jeans. She choked on her screams and he snapped, “Come on, scream for ‘im! Get ‘im to come back so we can get out of ‘ere.” He drove the knife deeper and then pulled it upwards towards her armpit, slicing through cloth, skin and God only knew what; namely things she needed to survive. That was all the prompting she needed.
“Jorick!” she shrieked on command, praying to God, to angels and to anyone that might listen. “Jorick, please! God please! Please!” She broke into sobs, and her body sagged hopelessly.
Nirel ripped part of her ruined shirt aside, and she looked down to see him licking at the large gash he’d made in her torso, his features twisted in an animalistic snarl as red blood ran out of her wound and down her body; wet and sticky.
Her vision swam and blinked on and off for a moment. Strange black spots appeared and confused her. Her head felt suddenly light and the pain in her arms began to fade. She was
going to pass out. Maybe that was for the best.
The front door slammed and she looked up dully to see Adam still crouched by the door, his lips drawn back from his snarling fangs, and his hands like waiting claws. Footsteps pounded through the house and the waiting vampire readied himself to spring the trap.
The trap. “This is a trap. Jorick’s walking into a trap.” She had to do something, she had to stop him. Nirel had cut her too deeply. She was going to die, but there was no reason Jorick should, too.
She gathered what strength she still possessed and screamed loudly, “Jorick! No! Don’t it’s a-” but the warning ended in unintelligible sounds as Nirel ripped at her stomach with his teeth. She choked on her voice and forced the rest of the words out, “It’s a trap. It’s too late!”
Nirel tore into her torso again and she slumped back against the wall, too weak to shout anymore. The world swam before her eyes and she drifted on tides that might have been reality or fantasy. She saw Jorick burst through the shredded door, his face twisted until he looked more like a beast than a man. Adam tackled him and they struggled furiously. Nirel turned from her and hurried to join his partner, the bloody silver knife flashing.
Furniture snapped and shards of wood flew through the air as the three struggled; Jorick fighting for his life against the double attack. Adam pinned him against the wall while Nirel used his fangs to rip into the side of Jorick's pale neck. Blood, so dark it was nearly black, ran from the wound in a thin stream.
Katelina saw the blood and some last burst of adrenaline gave her the strength to shout, “Jorick!” She tried one more time to fight oblivion, and pressed back the dark edges around her vision so that the world burst into too bright color. “Jorick!”
He threw Nirel off of him. The redhead flew across the room and slammed into the wall next to Katelina. He slid to the floor and lay stunned for a moment before he was on his feet again.
Jorick grappled with Adam, his face no longer familiar, but the snarl of a raging animal. Katelina glanced away, unable to look at him like this, unable to understand anymore. The darkness took over again, blotting out whole pieces of the scene. A crash reached her ears and she opened her eyes. Slowly the ruined room came into focus. Nirel lay on the floor, pinned down by a large wooden desk, half of his face crushed.
The scene rippled and then she saw Jorick punch his hand through Adam’s chest, the crack of ribs was loud even as Adam shrieked his death scream. Jorick dropped the body and it fell to the floor. He stood, his face streaked with crimson, something large and gory gripped in his hand. He dropped it to the floor and ground it beneath his foot until it was a sickening mass of pulp. Then, he turned and threw the desk from the Nirel’s broken body. He lifted him by the front of his shirt and slammed him into the blood splattered painting of Velnya. The canvas tore so that only Velnya's face hung suspended in air, her body gone but her haunted eyes still filled with long ago fears.
Jorick didn’t speak, only howled like a wounded animal while he snapped Nirel’s neck with his free hand. His eyes were far away and blank as his mouth opened wide. Fangs glittered dangerously before they sank into the cool flesh of his enemy's neck. He stood in the center of ruin, his clothing torn and covered in blood, one arm wrapped around Nirel’s crushed and convulsing body. His lips sealed around the redhead’s throat with thin rivulets of blood leaking from the corners of his mouth.
Katelina shuddered in horror and disgust, unable to watch anymore. She thought numbly that she hadn't wanted to see this; had needed not to see it in fact. What a horrible final memory: her beautiful Jorick as much a twisted monster as the others.
**********
Chapter Nine
Jorick's voice caressed her consciousness in soft murmurs, “Katelina, it’s all right. I’m here. It's all right.”
She tried to open her eyes, but couldn't. She was trapped somewhere between awake and asleep, unable to scream out loud. “Jorick!” she shouted silently before that final image of him flashed through her mind. His eyes were blank and full of blood lust, his face more animal than man, like Nirel’s had been while he drank from her. Her mind shuddered. Jorick was a monster, no different from the others. He could kill her on a whim, drain her blood, drink her life or destroy her with coursing pain like Claudius had tried to do.
Jorick’s voice answered her, soft and soothing, “I am what I am, Katelina. I can’t change that, any more than you can change what you are.”
“No!” she tried to shout. “No, Jorick! Why?” She'd have sobbed if she could. She felt broken and defeated, disillusioned and destroyed.
“Why what? Why did I do that? Or why am I like this? What do you want to know? Ask me and I'll answer you.”
“Why?” her mind simply repeated, not sure what she wanted, or even where she was. She didn’t know if she was alive or dead.
“No, you’re alive,” his silken voice assured her gently. “You’ll live, but not exactly as you have before.” There was a pause. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save you any other way.”
“What do you mean?” she asked silently, panic swelling. “What have you done?” Had he made her a vampire?
His chuckle was more sad than amused. “No, I didn’t make you one of us. Your thoughts are clear enough.”
The pain and misery that would normally ache in her chest danced around her in the void of nothingness. Some part of her was sobbing and she lost her thoughts to it.
Jorick’s voice came at last, haltingly, “Why do you think I sent you away, Katelina? You don't belong in the world of blood and darkness. You should have gone home, where you'd be safe.”
“I tried. Loren didn't come, they did.”
“I know now,” he soothed. “I know.”
Anger swam around, floating in the void and filling her consciousness. How did he know? Had he read her thoughts, her memories? Was no part of her sacred from him?
“I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s a part of the process.”
“What process? What have you done to me?”
“I'm sorry.” She felt liquid sorrow wash around her, but knew it wasn't her own. “I didn’t plan to do it, but there was nothing else. There was no other way.”
Cold fear quenched her fury. What had he done to her? Why wouldn't he just tell her? Where was she? What had he done?
“You’re asleep,” his voice was a caress. “You’ll wake soon. You need rest.”
“How are you talking to me if I'm asleep? Are you in my dreams as well?” The anger reappeared in the space around where she seemed to float. She could see her emotions crash around her like waves of water, ever changing.
Jorick’s voice was weary, “No, this is no dream. This is the in-between space,” he paused. “It’s a side effect of The Linking.”
“The Linking?” What in the hell was that? A memory swam to the surface:
Claudius, his eyes cold, “They're not linked, are they?”
Troy balked visibly. “Linked? No, I don’t think so. No one does that anymore–”
“Says who?”
What had Jorick done?
“You don't want to know,” he replied softly. “Sleep now, little one.”
“No! Jorick! Jorick!” But the swirling blackness pressed in against her and she was lost to the land of dreams.
She woke with a scream and struggled, unsure if her eyes were open or closed. Flashes of a blood soaked nightmare were laid out fresh before her: Adam’s heart crushed to a pulp, Jorick's mouth wrapped around a pale throat, Velnya's haunted eyes, her painted face streaked with blood.
An arm caught her and tightened around her waist. “Shhhhh,” a voice whispered from the darkness. “Be still.”
She fought on until she was free, only aware of the blankets around her a moment before she tumbled off the bed and landed on the floor.
Jorick sighed, and then the light clicked on and illuminated the familiar basement bedroom. He knelt next to her, and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“How the hell should I know?” she asked angrily, and jerked herself into a sitting position. She glanced down to find she was dressed in the lacy red nightie. Her head snapped up to see Jorick patiently crouched next to her, wearing only a pair of black pants. She blinked at him stupidly and tried to reconcile the things she remembered with what she saw and felt. She should have been half dead! Was it all a dream?
She let Jorick tug her to her feet. Her mind spun in confusion as she tried to grasp memories of the last few days. Absently, she brought her free hand to her neck and touched the spot where she thought the knife had cut her. Her fingers found a lumpy scar; a lumpy scar that hadn’t been there before.
Jorick let go of her and stepped back. “That's the other side effect,” he said softly.
“Side effect?” She blinked as the memories of the “in-between space” filed neatly into place. The blood drained from her face and her heart raced. “No,” she whispered. “No.”
“Yes.” He nodded his head, but refused to meet her eyes. “That's why I did it, to heal you.”
She continued to rub the scar again and again, as if she expected it to go back to the tiny, familiar mark. “Did what? Some linkage thing?” Her eyes burned into him and he flinched
“The Linking,” he corrected. “And yes.” He swallowed and met her gaze. His face was unreadable, but his eyes asked her for forgiveness.
She lifted her hands to the sides of her head and tried to comprehend. “And what is that?”
“It's aptly named.” He switched to the teacher/child tone he so often used when he explained things to her, a detached and unfeeling voice. “It does just that, links a master to his Human.”
“His Human,” she whispered, and suddenly felt ill. “Just how does it 'link' them?”
“It links their minds, their thoughts, their memories, even dreams. They say that, if used correctly, a master can see what they see, hear what they hear.” He cleared his throat and looked away.
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