Fallen Captive (The Fallen Cross Legion Book 2)

by Aliya DalRae

  “Nox.”

  Rachel shifted on her feet, incapable of looking the male before her in the eye.

  “How did you know?”

  “You fought for him harder than his own brother. You don’t do that for a casual acquaintance. When did you know?”

  “When did I know, or when did I admit it to myself?”

  Mason’s smile was gentle, though she sensed something else. Envy, perhaps?

  “I think I fell for him the first time I saw him. Thanksgiving, when he risked everything to save a group of people he’d never met, had no reason to protect, and yet he did it anyway. He had to know that stepping forward would be a detriment to his liberty. At the very least, he was wanted by the Legion. By you.”

  “He could easily have walked away, that’s true.”

  “But he didn’t. He walked right into that mess and contained the situation. Not even Harrier could control Raven’s beast, but Nox, he just strolled up and handled things. Then when it was over, when he could have stolen away, he remained to make sure it stayed that way. I was fascinated by him, for so many reasons, and he continues to amaze me.”

  “And the other?”

  “Hmm?”

  “When did you admit it to yourself?”

  Rachel slipped a hand through her hair and smiled. “About five minutes ago.”

  “He’s a lucky male,” Mason said, his voice low, rough.

  “At the moment, I think he would disagree. Thank you, Mason. For not giving up on him.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Merlin is working on a solution, but we’re dealing with an ancient, unreasonable Vampire who doesn’t like having his toys taken away.”

  Rachel fell to the bed as the enormity of the situation hit her dead on. “Do you think he’ll hurt him?” she whispered.

  Mason came to sit next to her and took her hand. His palm was warm, his fingers strong, and she felt bolstered by his touch. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never known Magnus to be sadistic. Unfortunately, this trip has shown me that I may never have known this Primeval at all.”

  Rachel squeezed his hand, searching for the comfort she’d felt just a moment ago as shivers of dread slid down her spine. She didn’t need Seer’s blood to know that the worst was ahead of them.

  “One thing is certain,” Mason said. “There is nothing we can do tonight. Try and get some rest. Perhaps we’ll know more tomorrow.”

  Mason walked her to her suite, ensured she locked her door, for all the good that would do in a house full of Vampires, and left her to her own thoughts.

  With so many doubts coursing through her, there was one thing she knew for certain. She would die before she left this house without Nox.

  Chapter Thirty

  R achel wasn’t gone five minutes before the Primeval paid his first visit. Memories, more like flashbacks, sent shards of terror through Nox’s spine. He backed against the wall and forced himself not to cower before the star of his nightmares.

  “You’ve been very naughty,” the Primeval crooned. Nox felt his stomach twist at the words, that tone. He’d heard them too many times in the past, had thought he’d never be subject to them again. Yet, here he stood, trembling in his boots.

  Magnus was a large male, taller than Harrier, though not quite as broad. Nox didn’t let that fool him. He knew the power the Primeval housed in those sinewy muscles, the damage they could do. With his flint grey eyes trained on Nox, the male was intimidating on a good day. When he was angry, however, or in one of his moods—which in Nox’s experience was most of the time—the Primeval was downright terrifying.

  Being in this room again with Magnus staring down at him, Nox felt like the small boy he had been, and that child’s fear was once again his own. He knew what was coming, reached for his power to stop it, but Magnus was faster. With a word from him, Sasha was in Nox’s head, commanding him to take the punishment he deserved. Forbidding him to fight back or use his gifts, and he was powerless to do anything but obey.

  The first blow was a punch to the left side of his face, one so fierce it knocked his glass eye from the socket and sent it to the floor where Nox heard it crack. Magnus held Nox’s gaze as he deliberately stepped on the glass orb and crushed it beneath the heel of his Armani Oxford.

  “You don’t deserve that sort of accessory. You ran away from me, and as a result, you lost your eye. You earned that and more. Live with the sight of that empty socket each time you look at yourself in the mirror. It will be a reminder of what can happen to you when you disobey your lord and master.”

  “Yes, Primeval.” Nox wanted to say more, to strike back. Deep inside he knew that, but Sasha’s hold on him was firm, and the thought to do anything other than she suggested sent spikes of pain through his skull.

  The next strike was an uppercut that sent him sprawling on the floor. “That was for forcing me to punish Sasha for your insolence.” A couple of kicks to the ribs left Nox curled in a ball, his head tucked beneath his arms for protection. It was a position he remembered well, one he’d perfected.

  The sound of a chain rattling caused bile to rise through his esophagus, into his throat, burning his tonsils. He dared not look, didn’t have to see to know that Magnus had brought his favorite toy with him. The “gift” he’d presented Nox with for his fifteenth birthday. He didn’t have to see it to know that the mace’s wooden handle would be polished to a high sheen, while every link in the three-foot-long chain would glisten in the light. Against his better judgement, and probably because Sasha forced him to, Nox opened his eyes.

  The spiked ball at the end of the chain was the last thing he saw before it slammed into his skull.

  “And this,” Magnus said, “is strictly for me.”

  ~~~~~

  M eals came more regularly and soon included meat and potatoes rather than the thin porridge he’d come to expect. It didn’t take long, however, for Nox to connect the recurring headaches with the arrival of each repast. It occurred to him the Primeval may have been poisoning him. However, the headaches came before he ate, not after, and their intensity increased with each passing day.

  And always, always, that mysterious person stood silently on the far side of the wall. They never spoke, nor acknowledged his screams as over time the pain grew to the point he felt his head would combust.

  He nearly fainted with relief the day a pouch of blood appeared with his dinner. While better food helped in nourishing his physical body, without blood he felt his soul diminishing. He drank of the blood so quickly it nearly came back up, but he forced it down, forced himself to hold it inside him until it could replenish the very essence that made him Vampire.

  Sated, satisfied, he slept soundly until his next meal arrived. He woke writhing in pain, certain the knives and daggers digging into his brain, stabbing, carving, slicing through each and every nerve ending were real. Solid blades of steel doing their worst to tear apart the insides of his skull.

  And through the pain, he felt that awful presence on the other side of his door.

  The pain receded as quickly as it had begun, throwing his body into a convulsion that landed him on the floor and emptied his stomach of food and ingested blood alike. He rolled to his side, cradled his head in his hands and moaned, prayed to any gods that might still exist that his misery would soon end.

  He would rather die than have this madness continue. Perhaps he would meet up with Pipa, who most certainly had met her own end. She would have found a way to reach him otherwise.

  He was so bound in his misery, he failed to hear the latch release, the door swing open. The Primeval stood over him before he could consider retreat. And the male wasn’t alone.

  Magnus sneered at the pool of sick on the floor, toeing the edge of it with his boot. “Disgusting,” he said. “But I expect no less from a noxious beast.”

  Nox scrambled across the room until his back pressed against the wall. For all the pain he’d experienced in his solitary confinement, not having to face Magnus had made i
t a fair trade. Aside from the headaches which made him pray for death, it was nearly tolerable. Now, the source of every nightmare he’d ever experienced loomed over him, and Nox felt cornered, trapped like a wild animal. Panic boiled up inside him and burst out in an explosion of amethyst light, of fang and claw.

  He pulled himself up the wall, gained his feet, and met the Primeval’s wicked gaze straight on. He reached inside of himself, grabbing hold of that special something that was his and his alone, and he pushed it at Magnus, into Magnus, forcing as much pain into the Primeval as he could. Magnus screamed, but it wasn’t the primal screech of pain, it was a word, a name.

  “Sasha.”

  He’d forgotten the other person, that the Primeval had not been alone.

  Something ripped the mental pain Nox pushed at Magnus from his grasp and it flew back at him tenfold, piercing his brain. He fell to his knees, clutching his skull, as a word whispered in his mind.

  “Peace.”

  The pain eased, along with Nox’s desire to fight. He knew it was wrong, knew that he needed to protect himself, but his body was no longer his to control.

  “You will not fight. You will not struggle. You will not use your powers. You will obey the Primeval’s every command. And you will remember.”

  The last was the worst of it. Because Nox knew what was coming, and though the internal battle raged inside him, kicking and screaming at his body to fight, he knew with everything he was that he wouldn’t be able to stop it. Or, with that last order firmly in place, forget what was about to happen to him.

  “In position,” Magnus said, the delight in his tone a vicious sound.

  Nox tried to fight it, to disobey, but the harder he resisted, the worse the pain in his head grew. Finally, he had no choice but to submit.

  On hands and knees, he waited, trembling at the harmony of jangling chains working in rhythm with a repeated thumping, the heavy end of the mace dragging across the floor.

  “Open your eyes,” the voice sounded in his head.

  “Happy birthday, you piece of…”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  D inner the following night was a somber affair. Rachel had reached her limit of tolerance for the company, Legion personnel excluded, and her anxiety over Nox grew exponentially with each passing night. Mason assured her that Merlin was working on a solution, and she had to believe that would be good enough, that the Warrior would come through for Nox and the rest of them.

  The Primeval graciously extended his hospitality to them for as long as they wished to stay. From the looks of things, the parties and balls her mother had dragged them to in her childhood were a thing of the past. Magnus was reveling in the company and though he was pleasant enough, there was a glint in his eye that spoke of evil. That look alone made her worry for Nox’s safety all the more.

  Rachel hadn’t chanced visiting Nox again. Mason agreed that it wasn’t worth the risk to her or to Nox. She had to go on faith that the Primeval afforded him the same treatment the rest of them received, and maintain her patience while Merlin worked his own brand of magic.

  The fact that Fuhrmann and his lot were still in the house didn’t help the mood around the table. Raven took it in turns growling at Maxx and Fuhrmann and giving Magnus the stink-eye. Mason did his best to keep Raven under control, but they all knew that Nox was the only one capable of doing that to any level of certainty.

  Rachel was happy to see Rebecca sitting next to Harrier tonight, rather than cozying up with the villains, but that didn’t keep her sister from throwing wistful glances Maxx’s way. Rachel hadn’t quite worked up the patience to speak with her sister, who apparently had moved into Harrier’s room.

  With Harrier at her side, Rebecca returned to Maxx’s suite the previous night to gather her belongings and say her farewells if necessary. It hadn’t been, as the room had been empty, but Rachel could tell that her sister was torn. She’d never seen the female look so defeated, her eyes dull and her hair listless. Whatever Harrier had done to bring her back to them, Rachel was grateful, however, she didn’t look forward to spending time with Rebecca. She doubted it would be pretty.

  “Primeval,” Uli Fuhrmann broke the silence. “I would like your permission to visit with the prisoner before we leave. Might that be arranged?” The Sorcerer took a bite of chicken, as though the answer were of little consequence.

  However, Rachel could see the anticipation in his eyes. “No,” she shouted as the Primeval asked, “Why?”

  Both males ignored her.

  “Well, my lord,” Uli wiped his mouth with the linen napkin, then replaced it in his lap. “It’s more for my colleague, Maxx. You see, they spent a bit of time together after Nox left your hospitality, and I’m afraid Maxx had grown quite fond of the fellow. I understand he’d like to say goodbye.”

  Magnus narrowed his eyes at the two. “Five minutes ago, you both wanted to see Nox destroyed. Now you want to exchange fond farewells?”

  Rachel watched as the Sorcerer juggled the question around before answering.

  “Not me, my lord, Maxx. Of course, if it isn’t possible…”

  Magnus waved his hand. “No, no. It’s fine. But Maxx only. I’ll not have you damaging my ward again. I’m still a bit miffed about the missing eye. You owe me for that, by the way.”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  “Giles will take you down after dinner,” Magnus said to Maxx. The feral nodded while Fuhrmann simpered some rubbish or other. He was working awfully hard, Rachel thought, to regain the Primeval’s favor, though from her perspective he’d never had it in the first place. Perhaps he didn’t have near the intelligence the Legion credited him with. Besides, all that brown nosing and ass kissing was making her stomach churn. Not that she’d had much of an appetite to begin with.

  “My lord,” Mason said. “If we’re arranging visitations, I request that Raven be allowed to visit his brother, to ensure…”

  “No.”

  “My lord.”

  “No.”

  “Then I request the opportunity to visit with him myself.”

  “No. Dinner was lovely. I believe I’ll retire. Feel free to linger.”

  “My lord.” Silver light flashed on the Primeval’s jacket as Mason’s eyes sparked in frustration.

  “Careful, Warlord. My generosity only extends so far.” Magnus disappeared into his antechamber and Raven turned to calm Mason for a change.

  “Have you heard from Merlin?” Raven asked.

  Mason glanced at the far end of the table and shook his head. Not here. The two rose and disappeared through the main entrance. Rachel turned to her siblings and said, “Shall we?” She’d had all the socializing she could handle for the night.

  “Mother,” Rachel said as she passed the woman, who had remained unusually quiet during the meal. Of course, the female ignored her but what did she expect?

  As the three gathered at the exit, Rachel caught her sister’s sidelong glance. “Come along, Rebecca,” Rachel said. “It’s long past time you and I had a chat.”

  They passed Giles on their way out and heard him prompt Maxx to follow him, to see Nox, no doubt.

  Rachel swallowed the gorge that rose in her throat. Nox had made promises to Sasha, but he wasn’t the only one to have sworn an oath. If anything happened to him, Rachel vowed, if only to herself, that the person responsible would die.

  By her own hand, if necessary.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  U li waited until the Legion crew had left the room before turning to Victoria. “My lady,” he said, then cast a spell of invisibility upon himself. Victoria’s smile was smug, and she gasped when he brushed her hair on his way by.

  “I doubt I shall ever get used to that,” she whispered. “Go on then, before you lose them. You can fill me in upon your return.”

  Uli, however, was already out the door. He caught up with Giles and Maxx, and followed them through a series of hidden halls and musty stairwells where at one time he imagined a large st
aff went about their day’s work. Now it seemed a mere skeleton crew handled the day to day chores. They didn’t pass a soul on their journey.

  They reached the bottom of a rather steep flight of stairs, where Giles knocked on a door to the right. The Sorceress answered immediately, and after a brief conversation, she unlocked the other door with a spell. As the woman returned to her room, Giles motioned Maxx through the other door. “You have five minutes,” he said, then retreated to the base of the stairs to wait.

  Maxx nodded as the old butler closed him inside.

  Uli stood in the hall, fisting his hands at his inability to sneak into the room before Giles shut the door. He could dematerialize, shift himself inside that way, but that expended a lot of energy. The last thing he needed was for that Sorceress to detect him, not to mention the fact that he would lose his invisibility. Time was ticking away, and he was about to say, “Screw it all,” when the second door opened.

  The Sorceress stepped out, her arms folded across her chest as she scanned the area. “I know you’re there,” she whispered. “If you want to listen and watch, you can do so in here. I warn you, though, do not try anything.”

  Uli let the spell fade and appeared in front of the woman. “Thank you,” he whispered as she motioned him into what appeared to be both her chambers and her work station. It rankled a bit that the Primeval held one of his kinsmen a slave, but he reminded himself that it was not his business.

  Still, something about her…

  “You look familiar,” he said. “Have we met?”

  The girl shook her head as she stared at her shoes. “No, my lord. I’m sure I would remember. Perhaps you knew my mother? Katharina Becker?”

  Uli thought a moment. “No. That doesn’t ring a bell. Never mind. Be sure to keep a tight leash on that one,” he pointed through the wall of glass that bore a visual of all that transpired in Nox’s cell. “His powers have grown substantially since last you cared for him.”