by Aliya DalRae
Chapter Seventy
T he first day of the cats’ Vindicta ritual had arrived. As promised, Harrier was taking Nox to his date with the Shifters. Meanwhile, Mason and I were tasked with getting Raven settled in his new digs, designed specifically for this event.
Mason led us to an elevator I’d never seen before. When the doors closed I glanced at the panel and was surprised to see that there were levels below Sub T. I’d always assumed that was the bottom of the world.
Mason selected a button labeled Sub T3, and the car descended, deep into the belly of the earth. I glanced at Raven to see if he knew where we were going and he squeezed my hand. Looked like I was the only one in the dark.
The twin doors opened, depositing us into a well-lit hallway. I had expected stone floors and dirt walls, so the modern facility was a pleasant surprise.
We hung a left, and followed Mason to the end of the hall, where Viper was leaning against the wall, a filterless Camel resting between his first two fingers as he blew smoke rings into the air.
When he saw his Warlord, he stubbed out the cigarette and stood up straight. “It’s ready,” he said to Mason, unable—or unwilling—to look Raven or me in the eye. I didn’t know Viper very well. I knew he was their munitions specialist, and was for the most part a good guy, but we’d never actually hung out or anything. Not like I had with Tas and Perry—and Raven, of course—so I wasn’t sure what to make of his avoidance.
Mason nodded and led us into the room. A twelve-inch thick steel door led into a ten by twelve room with concrete walls and a high ceiling. Small squares of thick glass dotted the top of the walls, protecting the cameras hidden behind them. I knew the moment we entered that Merlin would be watching us, and with a flip of a switch, so would the cats. But we still had some time before Merlin opened the feed for general admission.
Raven dropped my hand and walked the perimeter of the room, pacing it off. He raised a hand above his head and jumped up to touch the ceiling. It was at least a foot out of reach, but we all knew that once the beast was awake he could destroy every inch of this place if he tried. We were all hoping that wouldn’t be the case. The last thing we needed was for Raven to destroy the cameras. We wouldn’t want the cats to miss a moment of Raven’s suffering. God forbid.
Raven made one more circle around the room, then joined me and Mason in the center. He picked up my hand again, held it to his chest, just as Allon entered the room.
Merlin and Viper had been working with the doctor to rig up some monitoring equipment. They needed something Raven wouldn’t be able to demolish, but that would give the cats, and the Legion, readings of my Vampire’s vital signs. Just another bit of proof that he would be feeling everything Nox experienced. If, at any time, Raven seemed too relaxed while his brother was being tortured, there would be trouble. Those cats were some mistrusting little shits, if you asked me.
Allon rigged him up—a lot of subdermal equipment buried beneath Raven’s skin in various out-of-reach places—and Mason tagged Merlin for a test.
When we got the thumbs up from the technical genius, Allon turned to go. He stopped in the doorway and turned to face the male he had raised as his own. He took a deep breath and whispered, “Be safe, my son,” before making his exit.
“Why are there no pads on the walls?” I asked, thinking about the beating they were going to take and the injury it was going to cause to Raven’s fists, knees, or whatever he decided to bang into them.
“Maximum damage,” Raven said, then planted a soft kiss on my cheek.
“To you,” I whispered, and he nodded. “Okay.”
“It’s nearly time.” Mason drew my attention away from Raven and my thoughts of what was about to transpire. Five nights of torture, physical for Nox, mental for Raven, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. It was one more indignity forced upon us, and though I knew it was necessary, I was so tired of it all. Why did the paranormal world have to be so damned violent?
Raven stripped down to his boxers. The cats had wanted both him and Nox naked, but Mason had drawn the line on that one. They insisted, however, that the twins appear interchangeable. Of course, they would have to tie Nox up in some manner for public safety, but the cats agreed it would be okay if Raven remained unrestrained. Probably watching him run around this room going bat shit crazy on everything would maximize their entertainment value. Bastards.
It had been so long since I’d seen my Vampire in all his glory. Those broad shoulders that spread from here to there, and that narrow waist. The ass that had me sitting up and taking notice, even as he lay dying on my front porch all those months ago. Every inch of him was sheer perfection. Almost.
He turned to face me, and my eyes fell to the scarring on his chest, nasty raised slices compliments of Helmut Fuhrmann. The Sorcerer had used a spelled dagger, ensuring that Raven would never be rid of this horrible brand. Thirteen cuts in total, which spelled the name “Sylva.” She was Fuhrmann’s dead wife, Raven’s last victim—other than Malcolm, of course—and her name would be forever etched into his skin.
I raised a hand to trace the scars, but Raven caught my wrist, diverting my hand to his lips, where he placed a gentle kiss.
“Go,” he said, and I looked to the floor, trying to hide the tears welling in my eyes. “Please.”
“I’ll be with Merlin,” I said. “Just a holler away. Call my name if you need me and I’ll be there to talk you through.” Merlin had rigged sound in here, too. The man thought of everything. Except, of course, how to make the conversations private. If the cats couldn’t hear it all they would call foul, and lord knew where that would end up.
“I don’t want you watching this,” Raven said for the dozenth time. “I wish you would just go back to my room, or even better, to your home, and stay as far away from this madness as you can get.”
“You know I’m not going anywhere,” I said, my “that’s final” voice as firm as I could make it. “Besides, Allon won’t let me leave yet. He’s still watching me like a hawk.” And wasn’t that annoying. But my problems were small potatoes just now, so I let it go.
“Jessica,” Mason gestured to the door, and I knew it was time to leave.
“Be strong,” I said to the most powerful man I’d ever met.
Raven nodded and said, “I love you, Jessica.”
“I love you, too.”
Mason cleared his throat again, and, mindful of the cameras, I placed a soft kiss on Raven’s cheek, then left him to his destiny.
Chapter Seventy-One
H arrier hated this.
Serving Nox up to the cats was like turning on one of his own. Not that he was fond of Raven’s twin. On the contrary, he couldn’t care less if the male disappeared from the planet.
But Jessica cared. So here he was, standing in the middle of a huge barn, surrounded by a bunch of cat Shifters and keeping watch while they strung the big Vampire up between two posts. They’d stripped him down to his boxers, giving him leave to keep the jock strap and cup on that Viper had suggested, but leaving him bare to their tortures otherwise.
Nox was taking it all in stride. Not once on the trip over had he complained about taking his brother’s place under the proverbial whips, nor had he said much of anything. Harrier got that. Times like these he supposed a male was better off with his own thoughts than he was listening to someone else babble.
Once the cats had him secured, Harrier pushed them out of the way, and tested the restraints to be sure they would hold a Vampire.
“You sure you have control over Raven?” Nox whispered as Harrier tugged on the chains that led from limbs to posts.
“We have him contained,” Harrier said.
Nox held his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s get this show on the road.”
On cue, two cats positioned at the giant, all-weather television monitors on either side of Nox, turned on their respective screens. A quick text from the Overlord, and the screens came alive, showing Rav
en in his stone prison back at the Legion Compound. But for his lack of restraints, Raven and Nox were identical, right down to the plaid boxer shorts.
The cats went wild at the sight of Raven pacing the small space like a caged circus animal. Boos and hisses greeted the image, along with a lot of swearing and carrying on. Nox hung his head, his hair falling over his eyes in a dark curtain as the jeers continued. On the screens, Raven fell to his knees, otherwise assuming a picture image of Nox’s aspect.
Leonard Brandt moved to stand in front of Nox. He waved his hands in the air and the crowd went silent. The Overlord started to pontificate, going on and on about the history of the ritual, and the rules, yada, yada, yada, but Harrier wasn’t really listening. He was watching the crowd.
Perry was with him tonight, along with another Soldier whose name Harrier couldn’t remember, and they were doing the same. Mason was convinced the cats were on the up and up, but Harrier couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.
The rules were simple. No weapons other than those the cats could grow, meaning fangs and claws, and no permanent damage to the accused. Being Vampire, that left a lot open to interpretation. There wasn’t a heck of a lot the felines could do to Nox that he wouldn’t heal from.
For Raven’s part, all he had to do was drop his shields and feel what Nox was feeling. Really, he was getting off easy if you asked Harrier, but nobody had. Asked him, that is.
The cats had cleared the barn of anything that could be used as a weapon. No farming equipment or mowers or anything like that, leaving little chance of anyone pulling a Sling Blade, mmm-hmm.
Still, animosity hung thick in the air, the anger rolling off the Shifters like an incoming storm. Harrier was so busy watching the watchers, he missed the first strike, aware of it only by the vampiric roar followed by an eruption of cheers from the restless crowd.
Harrier turned his attention front and center, while the Soldiers continued to watch the waiting cats. Brandt stood on a small platform resting at Nox’s feet, needlelike claws where his fingernails had been, and four long slashes wept crimson blood down Nox’s chest. The gashes were nasty, but nothing that wouldn’t heal.
The scene on the monitors was another story. Raven was obviously following protocol, because his eyes were sparking that crazy purple they did when he was particularly perturbed. He’d felt the first blow, and his beast didn’t like it.
Brandt stepped down from the platform, and another cat took his place. Another slice, another cheer, and dual roars rang through the building, live and in Memorex.
Over and over again they repeated the process until everyone’s bloodlust was satisfied. Hours passed by the time the cats finished up for the night. By then, Nox was a mass of torn flesh and swollen contusions, all of which would be gone by the next night’s festivities.
And with every strike, every slice or slash that Nox received, Raven’s beast reacted, sending the crowd into a frenzy of cheers and jeers. The male in front of them, the one they were abusing, was simply a vehicle. Their true joy was in watching the one responsible for Malcolm’s death as he went berserk on himself in the confines of that concrete cage.
Chapter Seventy-Two
M artin strode with a purpose from one end of town to the next, searching every nook and cranny, every hidey hole he could think of where the likes of Uli the Sorcerer could disappear himself.
Merlin had been unable to derive any information from that burner phone Rachel had taken from the kids. It wasn’t like they had held out great hopes in that area, but it would have been nice to have something to go on.
Instead, he found himself retracing the steps of the Sorcerer, returning to the scenes of the crimes as it were, looking for new clues. He’d been to the Horror Mansion, the Old Mill, and a dozen other places besides. Other than a lot of blood and some traces of the kids, he’d found nothing.
The only true chance they had of getting information was through the one witness, besides the kids, who had seen the Sorcerer. That would be the indigent who had almost become dinner the night they’d found the children.
Peregrine had wiped his memory and taken him back to town, given him a proper meal, and sent him on his way. Now, Martin had to locate him, restore his memories and learn everything the man could recall about the Sorcerer.
Who knew a homeless person would be so hard to find?
On his fifth trip through town, Martin found his quarry outside of the drycleaners. The old man was begging for change from the good folks of Fallen Cross who were patronizing Good Times Bar & Grill down the street. Though he was a good ways away from that prime location, it hadn’t stopped the man from doing a fair bit of business at his little piece of sidewalk.
“Hello,” Martin said, offering the man a fiver. Once he had his attention, it was a small job of catching his eye and wiping away the blur Peregrine had left him with.
The old man looked at Martin with new eyes. “Y-you were there,” he stuttered. “At the Old Mill, that night when the monsters came out to play.”
“Yes, sir,” Martin said. “I was there, and I need to know what you saw.”
The old man scratched his scruffy chin and stared up at Martin, dollar signs practically dancing in his eyes. “I suppose I could tell you a little bit of something,” he said, laying a nonchalant hand palm up on his knee.
“I can do better than money,” Martin said, and the old man laughed.
“I don’t see how that’s possible,” he said, wiggling his grimy fingers.
“Does food interest you? Or alcohol?”
“All of it interests me, but iffen I had money, I could buy it all on my own, and not be obliged to suffer your company.”
It was never easy.
Martin leaned down, and caught the man’s eye again, convincing him as only a Vampire could that he really wanted to go into Good Times and have a meal with him.
The bouncer wrinkled his nose and glared at them as they entered the bar, but Martin ignored him. Once inside, he compelled them a table in the back of the dining area and convinced the people at the booths nearby that they were late for an urgent appointment.
The waitress came and took their order, returning quickly with a tall mug of draft for the old man and a bottle of Bud for Martin. When she left, Martin went to work.
“What’s your name, old timer?”
“Frank,” the old guy flashed a toothless grin up at Martin, beer clinging to the bristles on his upper lip in a foamy mustache.
“Well, Frank, can you tell me what you saw at the Old Mill?”
“Monsters,” Frank said, then took another long drink.
“Yes, you said that. Can you tell me what kind?”
“Vampers, I’d say. Had fangs as big as daggers and big claws like Wolverine.” Frank curled his fingers and swiped the air to emphasize the point.
“Was there anyone else? Someone different?”
“Ain’t the vampers enough?”
“Yes, but I’m more curious about the man who abducted you. Do you remember where you were? Where you were taken from?”
The waitress chose that moment to bring their food, a giant triple hamburger for the old man and a salad for Martin. He’d already eaten with the Soldiers tonight, but he didn’t want this guy to feel uncomfortable dining on his own.
Frank took a sloppy bite of broiled cow and gummed it noisily as the grease dripped from the corner of his mouth. He swallowed, then lifted the burger for another bite, but Martin placed a hand on his arm.
“You were saying? About the man who abducted you?”
Frank dropped the burger on the plate, and with a plaintive sigh, wiped his hands on his pants.
“That guy was a little strange, too,” he said. “He weren’t no vamper, but he was a weird duck nonetheless. Had long white hair that swam around like a bunch of snakes had taken to his head. Like that whatsit woman? From the myths and such?”
“Medusa?” Martin offered.
“Yeah, Me
r-dusa. He talked funny too, like he weren’t from around here, but he promised me good money if I was to go with him, so I did.”
“Where did he find you?”
“Oh, I was out and about. I think I was over by the cemetery. There’s some nice buildings out there where they put dead people what don’t wanna go in the ground? I crawl in there sometimes to get out of the cold. I was over there when this Mer-dusa guy comes up and offers me lots of money. And food, like you done.” Frank eyed his hamburger again but looked at Martin before reaching for it.
Martin nodded, then said, “Do you think you could find that place again? Where you were sleeping that night?”
Frank nodded, his mouth too full of burger for a proper answer.
“Will you take me there?”
“What’s in it for me?” Frank asked, bits of burger spraying from his lips and onto his coat.
“Money,” Martin said. “And a warm place to sleep.”
Frank eyed him suspiciously but seemed to come to the conclusion that Martin wasn’t playing him. “Sure,” he said. “And I can probably do you one better.”
Chapter Seventy-Three
N ox stood between the pillars of pain, as he was referring to them now, and concentrated on healing. The cats had long since gone home to their nice, warm beds, all but a couple who had stayed behind to stand guard. Perry and Kyte would stay as long as they could, but neither was a daywalker, so they would be leaving him soon as well. Mason had promised Vampire representation at all times, just in case, but Nox didn’t really see the point. Show of strength, he supposed, but that was between the higher-ups.
Raven’s pain was searing Nox’s mind. He knew his brother was doing as he’d promised, his shields lowered, leaving his mind and body open to everything Nox experienced. He wasn’t handling it well. Nox didn’t need to see the monitors flanking him to know that his brother was in agony. It was worse than the physical discomfort Nox was feeling. Really, he could turn the physical sensations on and off if he chose, but this was what he deserved.