He called for Desmond and the vampire came forth, chains dangling from his arms as he went for Bastian. There had to be something he could do to throw the Master off, make him falter in his decision to go after Catherine. Weakened from his attack on Antoinette, his mind struggled to grasp onto any emotion, a stray thought, something to use; and when the Master’s eyes met his, Bastian smirked.
“I smell your fear,” he snarled. “Fear over what Catherine knows of you.”
The Master’s leer remained, but his eyes faded. “She knows nothing.”
“Is that what you tell yourself? She knows who you are and she will use it against you in the end,” Bastian bluffed, having no idea if Catherine could really bring down the Master.
Desmond bent Bastian’s arms back painfully behind him and chained them, while another vampire wrapped another chain fully around Bastian’s body and dragged him off towards his tent. Bastian’s body was frozen, but his mouth still moved and he called out threats against the Master, predicting his death and pain.
“You think I fear pain?” the Master spat back, and Desmond paused just before they reached the tent.
Bastian lifted his chin and smirked. “You fear it; it is plain on your face.”
For a brief moment, he thought he had the vampire, but then the Master cackled. Quiet at first, until he bellowed loudly through the marsh, holding his stomach with one hand as his fangs flashed in the fading moonlight.
“You know nothing of the pain I experienced, but soon enough you will,” the Mater promised, leaning in close. “Soon you will know exactly why I have done this to you all. Chain him up and this time be certain he will not escape!” The Master stepped back, and Bastian glared at him until the tent flap fell closed in front of him.
Desmond chained Bastian to the post and then added two more posts, staking them deep into the ground on either side. “I will be certain to tell your lover you miss her,” Desmond whispered and licked his lips. “Perhaps I will even share with her a kiss from you, or more, before the Master has his way with her.”
Bastian snarled and charged forward, but the chains held fast and he fell to his knees from their weight. Desmond laughed wickedly as he and the other vampire left Bastian alone, seething in his bonds, praying Catherine would be safe.
***
The Master took what he wanted from Antoinette and once again sent her form his tent before he fell to his cot to slumber through the hot hours of the day. Though he swore he would never see harm come to her, part of him had been tempted to allow Bastian to kill her. The woman clung to him like a second skin and it itched at him, tugging him in the most obnoxious ways until he was smothered by her very presence. What he truly wanted to see was Catherine, meet her face to face.
For a woman to have such power over a man’s heart so quickly was rare in this world. She fought just as hard for Bastian as he did for her and together he knew they could become an unstoppable team. They were not the first couple he encountered to be so connected and blessed with their abilities, though they were stronger.
His eyes slipped closed and his mind wandered deeper into the past to those dark days. Jocasta had not been alone in her goal of heading south, aiming for Rome. When she revealed her plans of destroying the Order, Antony agreed to go along with it, but in truth, he wanted to seek out those he used to work with to bring the monster down and find a way to save himself. Then they met a couple along the way, and under very strange circumstances. He did not understand the full extent of their powers, not at first. That came later, much, much later…
***
983 AD Outside of Rome
Antony swallowed another mouthful of blood and finished off the man quickly, tossing the body aside as he finished feeding. He learned to drain his victims as soon as he could, before giving Jocasta a chance to toy with his food as well as hers. Though her power over his mind seemed to be waning, something she did not notice, he was still unable to completely ignore her commands.
Jocasta hissed and glared as she glanced up from the woman in her lap. “You drink too fast to enjoy the life you take within you,” she hissed. “You must stop this.”
“Or what? You have already ruined me, turned me into a monster,” he snarled, remembering still the babe he had killed on that unforgettable night. “You may have control of my mind for now, but you will not hold my soul. Only God may do that, and judge me.”
“God?” she spat and tossed the half dead woman aside as if she were a doll. She hit the wall of the tavern hard and fell to the floor, but Jocasta ignored her. “God. You think he exists?”
“Of course I do,” he said. “Why would I not?”
She tilted her head and grinned, fangs covered in fresh blood as well as her lips. Jocasta was a messy eater. “You think your God would allow beings such as me to roam this world? To kill his flock so easily?”
“That is why he put men here to stop you.”
“Ah yes, the Order, the group of soldiers sent by Heaven to snuff out the evil creatures of the night,” she said and stalked around him. “Tell me, Antony, do you think those men really know the difference between a monster and a being who does not deserve death?”
“Any such as us deserve death,” he argued. “We are unnatural, we are murderers!”
“Not all live as I do,” she said, trailing her fingers across his shoulders. “Many live in peace, hidden away from the world, keeping to themselves. Many creatures want nothing to do with mankind and yet they are hunted so carelessly by men such as you.” She grabbed his hair and yanked his head back painfully. “Tell me, how many times did you raise your sword without thought for the life you ended?”
Antony never kept track of those he slaughtered in the night. He was given an order and he carried it out until he stood over a body to be burned. His blade was never dry from all he hunted, but never had he met one who begged for their life. Not once did he see a glimpse of humanity in their eyes before he ended them.
He shifted on his feet and refused to show pain as Jocasta pulled even harder on his hair. “Does not matter. That part of my life is over.”
“Is it? You know we head south to attack the Order,” she whispered in his ear. “What do you think they will do when they see you? You think if you beg for your life, they will grant it?”
Antony knew, it was part of his hope they would recognize his insignia and find a way to spare him, but he could not admit this. “Of course not,” he lied. “I go where you lead and that is all I can do.”
“No, it is not. You will sneak into their fortress and you will be the one to open the doors and let us in, all of us in.”
“I will do no such thing. I do not hold sway over these men.”
“No? I am certain you led quite a few attacks on my kind,” she said and shoved him forwards, releasing her hold and sending him stumbling into the wall. “Do not lie to me.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of horse hooves approaching and the creaking of chains met his ears. Turning towards the tavern door, he frowned, wondering who would travel at such a time of night when swords clanked and men whispered, but not so quiet that he did not hear them. Their orders were to move in and surround the tavern, to drag out the beasts.
“The Order,” he hissed.
Jocasta hissed and turned towards the door. He tried to flee, knowing the men outside vastly outnumbered them. They had no chance of surviving this, but Jocasta turned her glowing gaze on him and his feet stilled.
“You will not leave me,” she ordered, and Antony turned to face the door beside her.
“They will kill us,” he argued. “Please, we need to run.”
“No, I have survived their attacks before, your attacks,” she said, cackling darkly as she crouched into a defensive position. “I will live again and you, my pet, will kill those you swore to fight beside until death.”
Antony swallowed hard, the blood in his body souring and churning within him, making him sick. He could not kill these men.
Would not, but Jocasta’s words filled his mind. Her orders reverberated deep within him and his body prepared for the fight to come. The men called out orders outside the door and the sound of swords being drawn had Jocasta growling like the beast she was. Antony should have known her mass killings would catch up to them eventually, and the Order would not send one lowly Hunter to bring her down.
This time, they would kill her and him right along with her, unless he could convince them to save him.
The insignia was visible on his cloak and he drew up his sleeve enough to show the brand on his forearm. If they killed Jocasta, he would be free of her control. Jocasta took a step towards the door when suddenly her whole body froze and her usual wicked grin fell away as fear filled her eyes.
“What is this?” she muttered, her hands twitching and the glow from her eyes waning. “I cannot move.”
Antony on the other hand, suddenly could, and glared at the closed door. He listened and heard the quiet steps of two people, but there was a bitter tang to the air as if lightning had struck nearby, burning the very wind. He considered trying to escape through the back entrance, but a voice filled his mind, loud and echoing, driving him to his knees as his whole body shuddered in pain.
You will not resist us, the man’s voice ordered. You will obey all we say and you will not fight.
Antony cringed, but could not gain his feet again. Beside him, Jocasta screamed and fell to the floor. A weight settled over his body and a cold fear that he had never experienced…filled him. The tavern door was kicked open and several men rushed inside, surrounding Jocasta’s wailing form and his alongside her, spears pressing into his skin, but the pain was not there. His body screamed from the turmoil inside his mind. Chains clinked to the floor and Antony could do nothing to fight, the Order forcing his limbs to remain still as he was wrapped and bound.
“Wait,” he whispered as they pulled him painfully to his feet. “I…I am one of the Order.” He motioned to his arm and one of the men tugged his sleeve up, cursing at the sight. “I am one of you.”
“Take him,” the man said. “He will need to be cleansed.”
“Cleansed?” Antony repeated. “No, wait, please.”
“Take them to the cage! We have several hours before the dawn,” the man called out, ignoring Antony’s pleas.
As they passed through the door, Jocasta still wailing behind him, he lifted his gaze enough to see two beings cloaked in black standing by the cage on the back of a wagon. When they turned their gazes to him, their piercing red eyes struck him as a blow, and he doubled over in pain.
“Get him up! Quickly! And burn the bodies inside!”
Vampires? They’re working with vampires? Antony could not believe what he saw, but then he was hoisted up into the cage and Jocasta was tossed inside after him. The door was locked and, as the wagon moved through the small village, his mind closed in around him and all he knew was darkness.
“Wake up, Antony,” a man grumbled in his ear. “I said, wake up!”
A hard slap set his ears to ringing and Antony hissed as his eyes fluttered open and his hands rattled chains. He tried to move them, but they did not give way and something hard and cold pressed against his back.
“Good, now we can begin.”
Antony squinted at the torchlight on the walls and followed the silhouette of a man he thought he recognized. “Vesper? What has happened? Where are we?”
“I’m afraid you do not get to ask the questions,” the man standing at the table said. “You disappeared from our sights. We found your wife’s body in your burned out home, but you were gone. We worried you had died.”
“I did die,” he growled and pushed to his feet as much as the chains would allow. “I was turned.”
“Yes, we see that now,” Vesper said slowly and turned with a bottle in one hand and dagger in the other, the silver blade gleaming in the flickering light. “I am afraid we cannot kill you, not until you are cleansed. It is the only way to save your soul and purge you of all the lives taken.”
Antony pressed his back against the stone as Vesper approached. “What are you doing, friend?”
“Saving your soul,” he repeated. “Now, tell me of your sins, Antony. Tell me of them all.” He slashed out with the dagger along Antony’s forearm. Anthony hissed. It turned into a howl of rage when the water infused with garlic and other poisonous herbs caressed the open wound. “Tell me of your sins, Antony.”
He pulled against the chains when Vesper repeated the same action on his other arm. Over and over he did it until Antony’s body weakened and he sagged, letting his weight pull him down. He told Vesper of all he had done since Jocasta had turned him, every last detail. When he spoke of the babe, he expected the man to lash out, but Vesper’s face remained calm, almost too calm.
“Is that all you have to tell me, Antony?”
“Yes,” he cried out, shaking from the constant onslaught of pain. “That is all, I swear it.”
Vesper sighed and wiped Antony’s blood from the dagger onto his pants. “You are lying to me. Why is that?”
“Lying about what? I have confessed my sins to you, now end it, please, or throw me in a dungeon.”
“Not until you tell me all. That woman, were you with her, Antony?”
He raised his eyes in disbelief. “She made me murder my wife and unborn babe! If I could have killed her I would have! What do you want to know? Tell me what I have not answered yet!”
“Why do you think she went after you?” he asked, leaning against the table.
Antony laughed on the edge of losing whatever sanity he clung to. “I hunted her, tried to kill her,” he said. “She wanted revenge.”
“And that is the only reason?”
Antony’s laughter died away and he took in the hard glimmer in Vesper’s eyes, the hunger Antony was more accustomed to seeing in Jocasta’s eyes instead of a man’s. He forced his body to stand tall once more and thought back to the two cloaked beings outside the tavern.
“Why is the Order working with vampires?” he asked.
Vesper did not move, but his gaze darkened. “Answer my question, Antony. Why do you believe Jocasta went after you? She did not kill you, but kept you alive. Why?”
“I do not know,” he snarled and yanked at the chains. “Why do you not ask her?”
“We will, do not worry. I was hoping you would be honest with me and save us the trouble of getting answers from the bitch. She killed three of our men before we could get her secured to a wall,” Vesper informed him and set the bottle and dagger on the table. “I fear you both must suffer now until we learn the truth of the matter.”
“What truth? I have told you everything!”
Vesper smiled and bowed his head. “Maybe you think you have. Until tomorrow, Antony.”
His booted steps echoed away and Antony was left alone in the flickering light of the torches, trying to understand what the Order was after. Never before had he heard of them working with vampires, and yet they had two helping them capture others and bring them in. From what Antony experienced, they had abilities such as Jocasta had, but how did they know that? How were they able to control the others? Was that what they wanted from Jocasta?
Is that what they want from me, he wondered. He could do nothing of the kind that she was capable of and he would be certain to explain as much to Vesper when he returned.
Hours passed, days, Antony could not tell, but his stomach clenched in pain as hunger consumed him. He hungered for blood and his throat burned until he moaned in agony. Delirium set in and before long he saw the image of his wife, holding their babe to her chest. She moved closer, but stayed just out of the light.
“Antony, what have you done?” she whispered.
“I didn’t mean to,” he moaned, tears filling his eyes. “Please forgive me. I had no choice!”
“You killed us. You killed our child!”
“Please, my love, please…I did not want to,” he whimpered. A broken man, he fel
l to his knees, only held up by the chains at his wrists. “Please.”
“No, you do not get my forgiveness. Not now and not ever. You will burn in Hell for what you’ve done!”
Antony reached out for her, but she faded into the shadows. His broken howls tore from his chest and echoed off the stone walls, but no one else was around to hear his howls, except himself. He did not see the two figures near the door, cloaked and hooded, nor did he see Vesper smirk beside them as Antony continued to cry out for his dead wife. He would break, just like they all did, and then the Order would put him to good use.
***
Absently, the Master rolled over on the rough cot and rubbed at his wrists, a habit from times long past, that he never let any of the others see. He had spent days, weeks, months, in that darkened dungeon. They thought they would break him and use him as they did the others. Thought they were clever for taking the most powerful of the monsters they hunted and using them against their own kin.
The Master smirked, staring at the far tent wall; how wrong they had been. Even now he remembered Vesper’s face, the horror in the man’s eyes the night everything fell apart. Closing his eyes, he called to mind the images of that fateful night, seared forever in his mind…
***
The pain was too much and the edges of his mind frayed and split beyond repair. His wife. Their unborn child, the babe he murdered, all the innocents he killed, they stood around him in the darkness, taunting him over and over again. Even as Vesper stood before him, demanding to know why Jocasta wanted him, they mocked him, leered at his half-starved and weakened state. He wanted them to go away, wanted them all to just go away.
“Antony, look at me,” Vesper demanded, but when he didn’t, he motioned to someone behind him and red eyes flared in the darkness. Antony’s head straightened immediately and he hissed as Vesper questioned him again. “Why did she turn you?”
“Why don’t you ask her, you wretched bastard?” Antony spat at the man’s feet and cackled darkly. His laughter became hysterical as he rattled his chains, lunging forward against them. “Why do you torture me when she is still here? I know she is. I can smell the damn witch! Kill me, damn it! Kill me and leave me in peace!”
SV02-06. Slave to a Vampire Page 30