by Joey W. Hill
Despite the spike of oh shit, Rand noted the key words, “thinks he’s a shifter.” Voltaire hadn’t seen him shift.
Cai had picked up on it, too. “Voltaire has a vivid imagination,” he scoffed. “I saved the wolf’s life from a hunter. We bonded. He’s a pet, and blissfully silent. We both like the woods, we’re both loners.”
“Not so much. Voltaire also said you had a servant. He thinks the wolf and the man are the same. If it’s not true, where is he? This…servant.”
Goddard said the words with revulsion, as if accusing Cai of betraying all of vampire kind.
“I knew you’d damage or kill him, so I didn’t let him come along. Wasn’t going to waste a good resource. He’s my blood supply so I don’t have to go into towns as often. It’s practical. What do you care? I’m not part of your Kool-Aid drinking anti-servant cult anymore, and I’ve found having a servant to be damn useful. I can be a lot lazier with one around.”
“Hmm.”
Rand could feel Goddard’s eyes on him. Though he knew it wasn’t a sensible thing to do, he struggled to look up, snarl at him again. Like all vampires, Goddard was disturbingly handsome and virile, but his eyes took care of any appreciation Rand’s brainless cock would have had for it. Goddard had dead eyes, same as every soulless bastard who thought this kind of behavior was okay. He and Grey were spawned from the same hell demon.
The vampire’s lips curved in a very distasteful and unsettling way. His reaction to Rand’s aggressive behavior was no different from an indifferent stranger’s to a child’s tantrum. The dead eyes shifted back behind Rand to Cai. Though his nose was a better sensor than his eyes, Rand still wanted to see the vampire. The blood and the tension in his voice said they’d taken him down hard. Why? Why hadn’t he just let them take him down, if he was going to pretend to be an ally?
Because he was Cai. He didn’t do anything the easy way.
Now that his concussion was clearing, Rand could sort through more of the data coming to his nose. It said volumes about the Trads’ elevated disrespect for personal hygiene, why Rand hadn’t picked up one particular scent immediately.
Dovia.
She was curled in the far corner, naked. A collar around her throat connected to chains bolted to the logs forming the cabin walls. Her arms were bound behind her back. The chains were so short she couldn’t sit on the ground, nor completely stand up. Having her hands behind her meant her balance was precarious whenever she tried to shift position.
His receptors were sensitive enough to know what blood came from surface wounds and what came from other invasions. They won’t be gentle about it, but they won’t be physically brutal, either. There was no way a woman being forced, her body unprepped and unwilling, could ever not be physically brutal. But it told Rand what Cai had suffered as a teenager at Goddard’s hands, that he could rate unimaginable violence that way.
Rage hazed his vision. Fucking bastards; they all deserved to die. The faces of all their children flashed before him—his own, Fane and Lynn’s, Sheba and Sylvan’s. Rand wanted to give in to the animal, who was certain that righteous ferocity would be enough to tear them all apart. It didn’t make it easier, knowing he had the strength to break those ropes. But Cai had reminded him, several times. They wouldn’t win a toe-to-toe fight against four vampires. They had to wait for the right moment. For Dovia.
Her eyes turned to him, dull and hopeless, so young. He wouldn’t have recognized her from Leona’s portrait, except for the red hair. But as he gazed at her, he saw the brown eyes like her father’s. She had her mother’s sweet bow mouth, pale skin. It appeared they’d hacked at her hair with a knife, burned some of it away.
She looked at him, too. As they continued to stare at one another, he looked deeper, and saw more than hopelessness. There was a spark there, life. If given the opportunity, she would fight for her freedom, to get away. She was biding her time. The greatest battle she was fighting—and it was formidable—was against the despair, terror and pain, that could numb her mind to opportunities for escape.
Things were not looking good, but if she could keep it together after what she’d been through, she’d get no less of an effort from him. They weren’t leaving without her. He would get her out of here or die trying.
“I’ve never liked you, Cai,” Goddard said abruptly. “You may be here for exactly the reasons you say, but it doesn’t really matter. I’m tired of your existence. Your belief that you don’t have to account to us or anyone else. You aren’t powerful, a vampire strong enough to fight off other vampires. You care for no one but yourself. You don’t want to be part of the Trads, so you contribute nothing to our society.”
“Society?” Cai barked a harsh laugh. “Hate to break it to you, Goddard, but living like a bunch of survivalist wackos in the woods, kidnapping helpless girls to rape, and believing indoor plumbing is the road to hell hardly qualifies you guys for a NatGeo documentary. Even other Trads think you all are the looney fringe. Don’t be throwing stones in glass houses.”
Goddard ignored him. He faced the trio of waiting vampires. Their appearance continued the tree theme. With identical round bowl haircuts, dark eyes, swarthy skin, knotted muscles and varying heights, they looked like an assortment of cypress knees. Rand wondered if they’d all been made by Goddard, and he’d chosen them for their similar features.
“Take Cai out and stake him,” Goddard ordered, snapping Rand’s attention back to him. “You can amuse yourself with him until sunrise. Then he can become the pile of ash we send back to Voltaire to show his master and claim it’s his daughter. Thank you for that idea, Cai.”
“Anytime,” Cai said dryly, and spat. Goddard was rolling something back and forth in his palm as he spoke. Rand realized it was the metal prosthetic fang Cai wore. Goddard or one of his minions had ripped it from his mouth.
“Let that piece-of-shit traitor think we’ve helped him in his grand plan,” Goddard mused. “He may prove useful later, if he succeeds and doesn’t want it exposed that he helped Trads depose his overlord. But you know what I think, Cai? Voltaire is many things that wear on my nerves, but he is also observant.”
Goddard moved behind Rand. From the difference in pitch and direction, Rand suspected Goddard had squatted next to Cai. The intensity of his next words suggested he had his full attention fixed on the vampire.
“I think Voltaire may be right. That your servant and this wolf are one and the same. We hear rumors of them in these parts, often enough I’ve begun to question if shifters are truly the myth we believe them to be.” Goddard’s voice settled into a disturbing mildness. “A human brain locked in a wolf’s body as he is taken by each of us. That would be interesting.”
Cai spoke in a flat voice. “Bestiality, Goddard? Really? I know Trads are backwards mouth-breathers, but that seems barbaric and crude, even for you.”
A grunt as Cai was kicked, probably by one of Goddard’s men. Rand’s lip curled.
“Is it bestiality, if there’s a man trapped in an animal’s body?” Goddard asked. “It’s merely a costume.”
He rose. “Take Cai out of here, take care of him. Then we can return our attention to the female. And while we may not care to test Voltaire or Cai’s honesty about this beast, there are other ways we can amuse ourselves. I’ve never skinned something alive before.”
The men started to rise, the boards vibrating under their feet. The wave of cruel anticipation, a sharp, volatile smell mixed with their other revolting odors, would have made Rand’s human form gag.
“You kill me, she never conceives.”
Cai’s tone was colder than a blast of displeasure from Lady Lyssa.
A weighted stillness, then Goddard’s heavy boots crossed the floor. The cabin shuddered as he apparently picked Cai up and slammed him against the wall.
Rand’s growl was deep as fire inside the earth, but he was drowned out, the thudding impact echoing as Goddard did it several times, until Rand was sure blood from Cai’s skull was splatterin
g the logs. Rand howled over Cai’s grunt of pain. The vampire nearest him kicked him. Rand tried to bite him, despite the ropes holding his muzzle. The vampire seized his nape and punched the flat of his nose with a blow hard enough to break cartilage. He released his grip and stood over Rand, with a look that dared him to do anything else.
The violence saturating the room drove out any rational thought or logic. Rand was strangling himself, trying to get free of his bonds. But then a movement caught his eye.
Dovia’s lips moving, silently, her eyes appealing to him. Her body twitched as if her fingers were curling and uncurling behind her back, wanting to reach out. Other reactions penetrated; her heart hammering inside her chest.
It upset her that they were hurting them. Despite what had been done to her, she wanted to help, to make it stop.
They were her only chance. Her only hope. Rand fought his nature, fought to calm himself, no matter that it felt like they were in a maelstrom.
Goddard was shouting. “You dare? You dare bring that up? You said you could make it happen, and a fucking plant split out of Megan’s belly, staked her through the heart.”
Cai’s words were garbled, until Goddard apparently eased up enough his response could be heard. It was dripping with contempt. “What do you care? You hated that bitch. She was more Timmon’s, anyhow. Least until you killed him and drank his blood with her, your sick little mating ceremony. And it went bad not because I intended to turn her into garden fertilizer, but because I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I told you that and you didn’t listen.”
Cai took a breath. “But I know what the hell I’m doing now.”
Another sudden silence descended on the cabin, while the tension and anticipation increased tenfold. The other three vampires exchanged glances. Rand had managed to flip over when the vampire dropped him, so now his eyes went to the corner where Goddard and Cai were.
Aw, Christ. When they’d ripped the fang from his mouth, it looked like they’d used it to slice open Cai’s face. The cut was healing, from ear to corner of the mouth. However, based on the other places he was bleeding, he’d need some serious blood to regain strength. They had his wrists bound with thick rope. Something a vampire could remove, as a shifter could, but not with their four adversaries standing over them.
Goddard dropped him, and Cai crumpled to the ground, his legs unable to hold him. He still managed a bloody grin and spat more of the red stuff on the floor. The vampire’s blue eyes were hot with vindication. “Got your attention, didn’t I? You’re right. I’m lying about why I’m here. I could have just bolted after they let me go, but I’m sick of being on my own. And I don’t want to be part of the Council vampires. You kidnapped me, made me a Trad, and I hated you for it, but after a couple fucking centuries it’s clear that’s what I am. I needed a gate pass, and so I spent time working on it. I didn’t plan it this way, but Greenwald’s daughter was the best excuse possible for me to come back, put my foot in the door.”
He jerked his head toward Dovia. “I can prove it with her, if someone’s had her in the past few hours.”
Goddard snorted. “I was pulling out of her cunt when you started braying like a mule outside our camp. Each of us had her once so far tonight.”
“Great. Eager little bunnies, all of you.”
Cai’s voice was dry, cynical. Rand didn’t know how he did it, shutting down all evidence of empathy for the girl. He felt sick, for so many reasons, on so many levels.
He thought of Fane’s neutrality, his wonder that Rand would help a vampire, but if Fane was here, Rand was sure he’d feel no differently from Rand. Yes, she was a vampire, but all he saw was a female in pain, afraid. And so young. Like Sylvan’s adolescent wolves had been, on the cusp of adulthood, not quite there, but brimming with the energy and impatience for it, as youth often was. She would have had that, only a few days before. He could still see the embers of it in the depths of her eyes, but that light was dying. The Trads would stomp it out completely.
So it didn’t matter what they were. Wolf, human, vampire. Beneath all the rest, the soul was what it was. Hers was worth saving. He just didn’t know how strongly Cai felt about it. Yes, he’d decided to do this, against very personal and vocal reservations, but how long would that resolve last?
“So, for this to work, you’re going to have to untie me and stop acting like I’m here to launch a freaking futile rescue attempt,” Cai continued. “Do I look that stupid? Okay, correction, you already think I’m stupid, but do you think I’m that kind of stupid?”
Goddard studied him a long moment. “No, I don’t. But I want to test this dubious loyalty of yours. Brutus, Malvin and Hector are going to take you outside. They’re going to tie you down next to the storehouse. It keeps two feet of shade on the northern side this time of year, even at the sun’s height. As long as you don’t lose consciousness from the pain of being above ground during the heat of the sun, and roll fully into its path, you’ll survive until nightfall.”
“No deal,” Cai said. “I show you that she can conceive right here, right now. Or I don’t do it at all. You know how fucking spiteful I am, Goddard. I don’t have a problem burning to ash just to deny you and Meeny, Miny and Mo here what you’ve always wanted, a pregnant fucking vampire female.”
The one Goddard called Brutus had dropped to his heels next to Rand and was prodding him with a fire poker. When Rand showed his teeth, best as he could with rope around his muzzle, the vampire sneered at him, poked harder, a quick jab in the ribs that hit bone and tender flesh. Goddard shot them an annoyed look when Rand couldn’t bite back the yelp. The vampire desisted.
“You care nothing about your own life?” Goddard asked Cai. “I find that very unlikely.”
“Oh, I’m very fond of saving my own skin. Ask my complete lack of friends. But I have one reason to sacrifice it that trumps even my inflated self-interest. Pissing you off. I prove she can conceive, and you untie my wolf, treat us as close to guests as you barbaric hillbillies know how to do it. In return, we’ll contribute extra hands to your little camp here, as long as I think I need to stay to avoid the wrath of the Council or help you repel any incursions by them. That’s the deal.”
Goddard’s lip curled, but Rand sensed the frustration brewing under the surface. If Cai was bluffing, he was doing a hell of a job with it. Goddard’s attention shifted to Rand. “Perhaps you care nothing for yourself, but what about your companion, who I sense is far more than wolf? Other than your squeamishness for bestiality, it means nothing to you if we violate him in whatever ways we please?”
Cai rolled his eyes. “Even if he was my servant and not just a wolf, servants are used to being violated by whoever, whenever. It’s what being a slave means. So big fucking deal to either of us.”
Goddard’s expression tightened. “I’ve heard that many of these humans come to vampires willingly. Because of a bond with them. That does not arise without reciprocation. It takes two ends of rope to tie a knot.”
“Don’t give up your day job to write love poetry,” Cai advised. “A lot of them come in with romantic notions and, when those notions are destroyed, they’re already caught. You know how weak the human mind is. It doesn’t take long to turn them servile. They want someone to own them, most of them. They crave the subjugation. If they’re not food, they’re pets, no different from my wolf, only way more fuckable. I figure you know some of that; else you wouldn’t have those two females chained out there.”
“They’re breeding stock.”
“Maybe at one time, but as usual you’ve abused them to the point their chances of conception are nil. They’re just dying plants you’re ignoring. Only reason they’re still here is you’ve set aside your distaste for milk cow style feeding and are using them for a blood source, so you can stay close to camp and the vampire girl.”
Goddard’s expression hardened, but Cai sighed. With blood smeared on his face and clothing, his body heeled to one side, favoring whatever was broken or bruis
ed, he shouldn’t have been able to look bored and irritated, but he did.
“Hell, Goddard, are we going to talk about this until dawn? Fucking let me go so I can give you a bouncy baby psycho on the vampire bitch. Then we can all make up and be friends before we call it a night. Or has your need to be a sadist outgrown your need to be a daddy?”
Goddard stared at him another long moment. Then he gestured to his thugs. “Untie him.”
Malvin cut Cai’s bonds. Hector released Dovia from her bonds, including the collar, but grasped her by a handful of snarled hair and dragged her unceremoniously across the cabin. The lack of reaction to her muffled gasp and yelp verified that none of Goddard’s cronies had a scrap of empathy for her. Hector could have been dragging a chair across the floor.
But Goddard…Cai didn’t have to look to know the vamp was getting off on it. Many Trads truly had no emotional connection to any but their own kind. Dice up a human in front of them, and they’d react as if watching someone cut up carrots for a salad.
Goddard’s heightened connection to other life forms was motivated by one thing only—sadism. He got off on inflicting pain upon anything weaker than himself. Which was likely why he’d never had the patience to try and impregnate his human females. If it didn’t happen after a week, the sadism won out.
After being at his mercy for decades, Cai was pretty well-versed with all the nuances of his psychotic fuckery, and he could use them now. Everything was an advantage. He was going to keep telling himself that, at least until he was being burned to ash outside.
He knew Rand was wondering what was happening in his head. He could hardly blame him for wondering if Cai would abandon the girl to save his own skin. But it was better for things to seem hopeless right now. Cai kept his blue eyes as reflective and flat as mirrors under Goddard’s relentless stare.