by M. K. Dawn
“Day dreaming? How sweet.” Mason’s taunting tone brought him back to reality. “Wouldn’t be about this nice, juicy, bloody steak would it?”
Saliva dripped from the corner of Darrien’s mouth. “Please. Just a bite.” He’d eaten nothing but stale bread since Nikko had brought him food more than a week ago.
“Nah. I don’t think so. Meat is for wolves, not leeches.” The wolf’s muffled laugh enraged him even further.
It seared through Darrien’s veins, but he held back, not wanting to give the wolf the satisfaction.
“Smells good, don’t it?” The man opened the small latch on the door and waved the piece of meat. “Can’t you imagine the blood?”
Darrien didn’t have to imagine; he could hear the drops of blood hitting the floor. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to rid himself of the longing clawing at his stomach.
He was so damn hungry, so far gone he could think of nothing else. His eyes widened as he watched the piece of meat swing back and forth, hypnotizing him, calling him forward.
Lost in his own amusement, Mason didn’t notice as Darrien eased off the floor. Darrien’s mind blanked; all he could think of was his hunger and what he had to do to quiet the need.
As fast as his weakened body could move, Darrien shoved his hand through the opening and seized Mason, yanking his arm into the cell.
“What the fuck!” the man screamed, trying to pull his arm free.
Darrien’s grip tightened. “Open the door.”
“No fucking way.”
“Now!” His elongated fangs peeked beyond his lips.
The man laughed. “You think I’m afraid of a little vampire bite? Not like you can drink my blood.”
“No,” Darrien hauled him closer, popping the man’s shoulder out of its socket, “but I can rip your fucking arm off. Tell me, how does a werewolf look if the man only has one arm?”
Mason’s laugh ended abruptly. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I? I’m a vicious, blood-sucking monster. What’s a little limb removal? I’ve got nothing to lose. Might as well go down fighting.”
“What do you want?” Mason groaned.
Had he not been listening, or was he that stupid? “Let me out of here!”
“Why? So you can kill me? Fuck that.”
Darrien wrenched Mason’s arm and slammed him into the door. “I don’t have to be free to kill you. Another couple of hits and I’m sure I could do enough damage.”
“A quick or slow death; those are my options?”
“Open the door and I won’t kill you.” Darrien loosened his grip a little. “You have my word.”
“Ha,” Mason spat, “like I would take the word of a leech.”
The offensive term grated on Darrien’s already frayed nerves. He had known many wolves in his time, and none had ever been so disrespectful. “You’re not really in a position to rely on trust. Now open the damn door.”
Mason screamed as Darrien twisted his arm. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you out.”
As soon as the lock clicked, Darrien threw his weight against the door, knocking Mason out of the way before he attacked.
“Thank you.” Darrien loomed over the man, fixated on the blood running down the side of this cut temple.
“Have a little,” Mason chuckled, “see how it tastes.”
Darrien knew better, but still had to fight the temptation. The blood of a werewolf was like acid to a vampire, searing the mouth of any who dared take a drink. He had found out the hard way when he first turned. Stupidly, Darrien had thought the foul odor of his victim was nothing more than poor hygiene. That mistake had left blisters in his mouth for weeks.
“Not a chance. I’d rather starve. But there is the matter of you babbling about my escape. I could lock you in the cell and see how you like it, but…” Darrien slammed his fist into the side of Mason’s face, knocking him out, “this way is a hell of a lot more fun.”
He raced down the hall and up the stairs, Mason’s keys in hand. At the exit, Darrien paused and stared out at the freedom that awaited. There was no sun he could see; heavy rain clouds had darkened the sky. The gloomy weather, he could tolerate, but if the rain moved and the sun reappeared, his skin would burn in a matter of minutes.
Darrien glanced over his shoulder at the prison and shuddered. There was no way he was going back in there. He’d rather face an excruciating death by sunlight than die locked away and starving.
The only thing holding him back was the unknown waiting on the other side of the door. He had no idea the location of the underground dungeon or what sort of measures they were taking to ensure he didn’t escape.
There was only one way to find out, and it wasn’t lingering around in here.
Darrien cracked the door and peered outside. The field before him was empty and the only sound he could decipher were distant footsteps thumping against the grass. He held his position and waited to see if they grew closer. After a few minutes, when he was certain they weren’t heading towards him, Darrien stuck a hand out into the daylight, testing the strength of the sun’s hidden rays.
His hand tingled but didn’t burn—a good sign he hoped would hold out until dark or at least until he found somewhere to hide.
Slipping outside, Darrien scanned the area, surprised to find he’d come out a side door of a large stone building. The dungeon had probably started off as a cellar which explained the windows that sat just above the ground.
He had two options: cross the open field towards the distant tree line or look around and hope to find an unattended vehicle. Both were risky. He didn’t know how close he was to anything that resembled civilization. On the other hand, Darrien didn’t know how many wolves roamed the property or where they were.
“Found you!” a small voice shrieked.
Darrien whirled around to find a little girl—no older than ten—staring at him, eyes wide and full of wonder. “Wha...what?”
“I found you!”
He didn’t understand why she was yelling—why she was there at all. All he could focus on was the vein pulsating along the child’s neck. This was the first human—with the wolf gene not triggered—he’d encountered in weeks and he was so damn hungry, he couldn’t think straight.
“What’s wrong with your teeth?” the curious girl asked.
Darrien ran the back of his hand over his mouth. “Nothing. You need to run.”
“No!” She stomped her tiny foot. “I found you, so now it’s my turn to hide.”
“What?” He swallowed hard, fighting against the thirst.
She rolled her eyes. “Hide and seek. Duh. I counted to one hundred and you’re the first one I found. All I have to do is tag you.” She took a step towards him and reached out.
Darrien stumbled backwards, the smell of her blood enticing him to feed. “Get away from me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
That got her attention. “Hurt me? My daddy said if an adult tries to hurt me, I should scream.”
“No, no, no. Don’t scream.”
“He said bad guys would say that too and I shouldn’t listen.”
Darrien didn’t have a chance to argue before the little girl let out a piercing shriek.
“Sarah?” a man called out.
“Shit.” Darrien took off running towards the tree line, but he wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t strong enough. He’d used all his remaining strength to fight Mason.
Two wolves jumped in front of him, cutting him off from the forest. Darrien slid to a stop and turned around to come face to face with half a dozen wolves and one man.
“What did you do to my daughter?”
Darrien shook his head. “Nothing. I told her to run so I wouldn’t hurt her.”
The man inched closer. “You would hurt an innocent child?”
“No.” Darrien dropped his eyes. There were too many of them to fight. They would rip him to shreds in a matter of seconds. “Never.”
His eyes bore into Darrien, sizing him up. “The pack
leaders are meeting now. Take him there. Let them decide this monster’s fate.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tito glanced between Leo and Ethan. “You two done making up? We have actual important topics to discuss.”
“My apologies.” Ethan settled in his seat. “The Bloodrose pack is all ears.”
“Good.” Tito turned his attention to the group of pack leaders. “The first item we have on the agenda—”
“Screw the agenda,” Jatix, leader of the Bloodvalley pack, interjected. “We need to talk about the curse.”
Ethan leaned in, eager to learn more about this curse Tito had mentioned but never explained.
“What is there to discuss? The Primordials are dead.” Tito glanced at Ethan. “That is the name of the six original vampires—the ones who headed the Immortal Council.”
“They were the first?” Ethan asked.
“What is this,” Dylan snapped, “a fucking history class?”
Tito slammed his fist against the table. “This is my house and I will conduct this meeting as I see fit. Don’t like it? Get the hell out.”
Dylan closed his mouth and sat back in his seat. It was a known rule: depending on whose house they held their monthly meeting, that pack leader would run things as they saw fit.
Tito turned his attention back to Ethan. “The werewolves’ curse is that we need to drink the blood of a vampire to be immortal. After decades of research, we believed the curse would break if we killed the six Primordials.”
“Which you did, two weeks ago.” Ethan’s eyes scanned the group. “Did it work?”
“No,” Jatix answered.
Thad, leader of the Bloodriver pack and a Herculean of a man with dark brown skin and blond-tipped hair folded his hands on the table. “We don’t know for sure.”
Nikko rose to his feet and leaned against the table, head hung low. “We do. This morning one of my men displayed symptoms of his chronic illness. He has not had a drop of vampire blood in a month. It was a test of sorts, to see if the curse had indeed been broken.”
Ethan studied each face in the room; they were all dejected by the news.
“We cannot continue this way.” Jatix rolled up his sleeves. “There has to be something we missed.”
Tito’s eyes darted to Ethan in a way that made his blood run cold. Whatever he was about to say, it wasn’t good. “The problem may be their heirs. They could have passed their powers through blood, to their children and children’s children.”
“Children?” Ethan’s heart pounded faster. “Male vampires cannot reproduce.”
“They can with a human, though I believe the Immortal Council did not allow it. Why, I don’t know. But ‘children’ is a relative term.” Dylan ran his hand along his beard. “Any vampire created by another would be considered their child—their offspring.”
“Take that female vampire friend of yours,” Jatix sneered. “She turned by drinking Luther’s blood. Therefore, she and any other siblings she has would carry within them Luther’s powers.”
“What powers?” Ethan asked.
Tito popped his neck. “Mind control. He was responsible for all of it. The lost memories about life before the Great Reveal. Drinking human blood. Being a vampire. It’s why when he died, all those memories resurfaced.”
“Can we get back to the curse,” Thad said, “and what we need to do next?”
“Are you sure the curse can be broken?” Ethan asked.
The corner of Dylan’s mouth twitched. “Yes. And I think we need to start with the Primordials’ heirs. Kill them all. That way we wipe out their line of power. Starting with the one we have here.”
Ethan’s breath hitched, but he forced himself to remain calm.
“We’ll stage another attack on the Immortal Realm,” Tito suggested. “We killed quite a bit of them during the first attack, but there are others. We’ll need time to find out where they live.”
Jatix banged his fist on the table. “Hell yes. I have a team who can hack into their computer system.”
“You think it’s still operational?” Thad asked.
“Operational or not, the data is still there. My team will retrieve the records.”
“Ethan,” Tito said, “you’re awfully quiet. Have anything to add?”
“I’m just trying to figure out…” Ethan paused, his mind spinning, “how far the bloodline goes.”
“One must ingest the blood of a Primordial to carry their bloodline,” Tito explained.
“How do we know those presented as the Primordial children were the only ones changed by a Primordial?” In all honesty, Ethan didn’t care. His only concern now was Samantha and the death sentence bestowed upon her by the pack leaders. He needed to buy some time to figure out how to get her out of this mess without putting himself at risk.
Jatix shrugged. “We kill all the known heirs. If that doesn’t work, we kill every God damn vampire we can find. Wipe out the entire race. One way or another, we’ll break the curse and have immortality without having to drink vampire blood.”
A sharp rap at the door halted all conversation.
“Come in,” Tito shouted.
The door opened and a group of six men walked inside—including Mason, who looked pretty banged up. In the middle, hands bound behind his back, was Darrien. His once muscular frame had deteriorated, leaving his filthy clothes hanging off his body. However, this was not the most disturbing part of his appearance. It was his eyes. Dull and uncaring, they lacked the mischief that made Darrien himself.
“What’s he doing here?” Tito asked.
“He escaped,” the man in front sneered. “Threatened my daughter.”
Darrien bared his teeth. “I didn’t threaten her, I told her to run.”
“Because you intended to hurt her,” he spat.
“No,” Darrien sucked in an audible breath, “because I didn’t want to hurt her. But after being locked in a cage for two weeks, not given any blood and only scraps of food, the temptation was overwhelming.”
“So you would’ve hurt her?” The man was trying to back Darrien into a corner and he looked weak enough to fall for it.
“Enough.” Tito stepped in. “Did he actually hurt the girl?”
Darrien widened his stance. “No.”
“But,” Tito inched closer; Darrien was a good foot taller—not that Tito looked in the least bit intimidated, “you escaped. Injured one of my men.”
Darrien glared at Mason. “I didn’t kill the bastard, no matter how much he deserved it. That should count for something.”
Ethan held back a laugh. Mason was a cruel son of a bitch and everyone knew it. This probably wasn’t the first time someone had beaten the shit out of him.
“Nikko,” Tito barked. “You vouched for this male, yet here he stands after a botched escape attempt. He attacked a wolf and threatened a child. Safety is our number one priority here.”
Nikko came up beside Tito. “I will see that his cell is secure. It will not happen again.”
“No. He escaped once. Who’s to say he won’t do it again?”
“Why don’t you let me go?” Darrien asked.
Tito laughed. “And risk you running off and telling your vampire friends our location? Not a chance.”
Darrien clenched his jaw. “What reason would I have to return here? If you’re so worried, blindfold me and drop me off in the middle of nowhere. I can assure you, I am not coming back.”
“Tito,” Thad interjected, “I have another idea. We are in need of a fresh batch of vampire blood.”
Darrien’s eyes widened as he fought against his restraints. “What? Not a chance in hell am I going to let you take my blood.”
“You don’t have a choice.” Tito snapped his fingers. “Nikko, take him to Tavia. She’ll take care of him.”
Ethan caught Darrien’s eyes as he thrashed about. He didn’t know how to reassure him that it would be okay or how to convey he would set him free. There was no way Ethan would allow Darrien to
succumb to this. Not when he had risked everything to save him and Evie from the same fate.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Samantha snuggled under the comforter with a handful of dull steak knives tucked beneath her pillow.
The party outside had died down less than an hour ago, leaving in its wake an eerie silence that chilled her to the bone. She’d been on guard since the break-in by the wolves the night before. Not that she worried about another attack. More so, she feared the consequences for killing Diego. There was no doubt in her mind they would be severe. A life for a life would have been how her race handled the crime.
It should have scared her, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but satisfaction.
That was the first time in her life she’d stood up for herself—defended herself—and Samantha would be lying if she didn’t admit she liked it a little. There was something about sinking her fangs into the skin, piercing the artery of her prey, and taking their blood that brought her pure joy. If it wasn’t for the searing pain the wolf’s blood had inflicted, she would have drained him dry. Instead, she had settled for ripping out his throat. Served him right for being such an ass.
The front door’s handle rattled. She sucked in a sharp breath and wrapped her hand around the wooden shaft of a knife. The others she readied beside her.
She would wait until the intruder made his way into the bedroom; pretend to be asleep and catch him off guard. Only then would she make her move. Not with her teeth this time—the lesions in her mouth served as a constant reminder—but with the knives. Samantha wouldn’t stop until he was dead or unconscious. Dead preferably.
The flippant way she now viewed taking the life of her enemy caught her off guard. She had always been an activist against violence. Now murder was a viable option?
Whatever masks the death of the Council members had lifted were frightening. It seemed they truly were the monsters the stories had painted them out to be. Deadly and ruthless, always on the verge of losing their humanity.
The footsteps grew closer. There was only one set this time, unless the others waited motionless in the living room and disguised their scent.