“Enza,” I growled in a quiet, white-hot rage. My eyes blurred with anger and my entire being stilled with the monster inside. The need for death settled over my mind and the desire to shed blood was so strong, I could taste the sweet metal of it on my tongue.
“Are you interested in what I do now?” Marabelle whispered close to my ear.
Her breath, cool like mint, chilled against my skin.
“I’m going to suck the marrow from your bones and force feed it to you before I tear your still beating heart from your chest,” I hissed, turning confident, deadly eyes to meet hers.
“Ahh, there’s the Blushing Death I’ve heard so much about,” she cooed in pleasure, clapping her tiny hands in delight. “Jarvis, please show our guest to her seat,” she said, laughter tinkling in her voice.
“Ma’am,” Jarvis said in assent as he ushered me forward.
I strode over to Enza, scanning her with an evaluating eye. She seemed scared which was understandable. She’d been kidnapped, for Christ’s sakes. She was only superficially injured, though, nothing she couldn’t recover from. The wound at her temple had bled profusely, probably to make her compliant. Fresh blood sat in a pool on the stark white floor as it dripped from her wrists. They’d fed from her and hadn’t sealed the wound. The room stank of her fear, filling my nostrils like toxic fumes burning my nose.
Kill them all, my Eithina snarled through my mind.
It would be my pleasure.
Enza’s eyes were wild, the strain of her body against her restraints had burned her skin from friction as she’d fought for every inch she got. Exhausted, Enza’s breath was heavy in her chest as she hung her head and her fingers dangled lax behind her back. It seemed like she’d been struggling for a while and the fight, blood loss, and fear had worn her out.
I turned and sat in the chair next to Enza, patient as Salazan bound my hands behind my back and through the rungs of the chair. I gave the ropes a slight tug, feeling the lack of slack in the rope and its resistance to my strength was surprising. The damned things were laced with silver, making an escape harder. I didn’t give him any indication that I knew, though, as he and Marabelle left the room. I’d misjudged him.
Across Enza’s lips was a wide strip of duct tape to keep her quiet. I imagined that Enza had given them hell. The duct tape was probably the only thing keeping her from ranting at them and giving them a piece of her mind.
As I scanned the room, following her eye line, I realized why she shook in fear. I gasped as my eyes found something that my mind couldn’t process. My brain tried it’s hardest to protect me by not working through what it saw but I couldn’t look away.
A splash of brown on the marble floor was the only indication of what hung above. In the corner of the ceiling, displayed like a box kite, was the bloody, naked body of a woman. Strung up spread eagle and hung by her wrists and ankles, her skin was gone. The wounds on her body were long gouges in strips, some deep where the muscle striations were raw an irritated, some shallow, still with a layer of fat visible. Her head hung lifeless between her shoulders, covered in blood. Her hair was matted against her skull where her flowing blood had dried and caked. The woman had suffered, and the stink of death and rot was setting in. She’s been dead a while.
“Is that?” I whispered in horror.
Enza nodded as tears streamed down her face, slipping into hysterics.
I had to get her to focus back and calm her down. Soraida was dead. There was nothing we could do about that now. “Enza!”
Enza choked back her sobs from behind the tape on her mouth.
“ENZA!” I shouted, finally getting her attention. She turned her red, stricken eyes to me. “I’m going to get you out of here. I need you to calm down and breathe,” I whispered. Even though I knew Marabelle could hear me perfectly, I needed my cousin to breathe. Enza’s eyes widened and the light sparkled in her tear-filled, glistening irises.
“I’m going to take the tape off,” I said like I was talking down a jumper. Giving her a stern look with expectation behind my eyes, I stared her down. I wanted her to know I WAS in control and that I expected my commands to be followed. Yes, I was tied to a chair with silver laced ropes. Yes, my cousin was tied to a chair next to me. Yes, Soraida was dead and hanging in the corner like a sick piece of art. Yes, Marabelle was crazier than a mad hatter. But I had a way out. And I was going to kill every last one of these fucking vampires to do it.
“I’m going to take your tape off,” I repeated. “Don’t. Scream.”
She took another deep breath and nodded. I was thankful that she couldn’t smell the dead body yet. I had a better than average sense of smell so the rotting flesh of Soraida’s body filled my nose and turned my stomach. Enza’s olfactory senses wouldn’t pick up that scent until probably mid-afternoon, when the body had been sitting in the heat for a while. I was thankful for that much at least.
Enza blinked her eyes a few times, chasing back the tears then she sighed in resignation, her shoulders slumping as she nodded. Leaning over and catching the corner of the duct tape in my teeth, I jerked the tape off. I balanced precariously on the chair’s thin legs, teetering and in danger of bringing us both down to the floor. As the tape ripped slowly away from her lips, her face scrunched up in discomfort and the adhesive tugged at her skin.
“Owwwww.” Her faint cry echoed in the marble tomb.
“I thought I told you to lay low!” I hissed in my frustration.
“I-I-I was. I don’t know how I got here. M-m-my tire blew. I-I-I got out to change the damned thing and the next thing I knew, I was here.” Tears filled her eyes again.
I guess if a dirty trick doesn’t succeed the first time, try, try again.
A tear slid down her blood-stained face, clearing away some of the grime. My worst nightmare was happening all over again and I hated myself for getting her involved.
“It’s all right, Enza. I’ll get you out of this.”
“H-H-How?” she stammered again. She hadn’t had a speech impediment since she was little.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, avoiding the question. She didn’t want to know the answer anyway. “You’ll be home before dawn. Trust me,” I whispered, ignoring the doubt in her eyes. “Do you trust me, Enza?” I asked, confidence ringing in my voice. I needed her to have hope, not to doubt me. I needed her to do what I said when I said it.
“Y-Y-Yeah,” she stammered again, her voice quaking with fear as a scream of pain rang out from down the hall.
Rupert.
Enza’s eyes darted to the door, wide with terror. Struggling against her bindings, she rocked back and forth in her seat. She was frantic to get away, to leave the horror of this marble fucking tomb behind.
I had to get her out. Glancing again at Soraida’s prone, exposed, and damaged body hanging above us, I rolled my shoulders as rage boiled in my gut and fear made my muscles quiver. I wouldn’t let Enza end up as Soraida had, a lifeless shell, a plaything for monsters.
“D-D-Dahlia? Wh-Wh-Who is that? Wh-Wh-Wh-hat are they doing? Wh-Wh-WHAT’S HAPPENING?” Enza was screaming by the time she’d asked the last question, managing to suck in a ragged, and sobbing breath.
The click of heels on the marble floor echoed through the cold halls. Accompanied by an odd rumble like thunder, the click of Marabelle’s stupid kitten heels approached our tomb.
“Calm down, Enza. They’re coming,” I warned. “I need you to calm down and be quiet. Let me do all the talking.”
She choked back her terrified sobs, shaking her head and rubbing her dirty, tear-soaked cheeks on her shoulder. She sniffed back the snot and waited for my lead, like I’d asked. Good girl!
The door creaked open and pale skin, rich auburn hair, and a cloud of pink tulle filled the doorway.
I fucking hate pink!
Marabelle’s heels clicked eerily, echoing throughout the room, filling my mind with a steady knell of doom.
“You are the clever one, aren’t you?” she asked, pleasure ringing in her voice like bells as her eyes slid over Enza and the tape dangling from her face.
“What do you want?” No point beating around the bush. I wanted Enza out of this hellhole and quick.
Shifting Marabelle’s focus back to me, the soft rumble of something like thunder distracted me. As Salazan followed behind her, pushing a cart, the solid rumbling closed in on me. I couldn’t see what was on the cart around the storm of pink tulle. My heart slammed against my ribs, pounding in my ears. What the fuck is he doing? God damn it! I was losing it. Christ on crutches, I was fucking losing it.
Ignoring Cordero Salazan, I buried the fear forcing the calm in my center to spread through me like Patrick’s calm cold chill of power. Salazan didn’t like to be ignored, and just knowing that I got under his skin made my heart slow and my focus clear. Yeah, I was a cold-hearted bitch and I didn’t give a shit who knew it.
“What do I want? That’s the question of the hour, isn’t it?” Marabelle cooed. The curl of her lips made my skin crawl.
An icy stab of power ricocheted through me again and my hands tightened into fists behind my back. The bitch was trying to prove a point but I was stubborn. If it meant pissing her off, I’d sit in this stupid chair forever with a shit-eating-grin on my face until she killed me.
Salazan wheeled the audio/visual club type cart around Marabelle’s gown and my body froze in terror. Sitting on the top platform, a car battery and a set of jumper cables narrowed my focus. The two items seemed so innocent on top of that damned cart but I knew better. My jaw clenched, my teeth ground together as my sole focus was that damned car battery.
“W-W-What’s that for?” Enza asked.
My bottom lip trembled in panic. I knew exactly what that battery was for, who it was for.
“What do you want?” My voice trembled as the remembered scent of burnt hair and singed skin filled my nose. Once, I’d had days of forgetting that always followed those fucking electroshock treatments. But I always remembered. Remembered the pain and betrayal.
Just let me survive this!
“My dear,” Marabelle sang, “I want you,” flashing too much fang as her lips curled up into a sinister smirk. The light glimmered off the saliva coating her teeth and Enza jumped at the sight. Gasping, the sweet, intoxicating scent of her fear filled the room like an aphrodisiac.
“Okaaay,” I said, meeting Marabelle’s glare. “New plan. I had no idea you were BAT SHIT FUCKING CRAZY!”
The sting of her delicate but frighteningly strong hand stung across my face as she struck me. Blood filled my mouth and my teeth rattled in my head with the force of her strike.
“STOP! DON’T HURT HER!” Enza shrieked. For the first time since I’d pulled the tape off, her voice was strong and even. No stammering there.
I spit the blood on the floor, splashing Marabelle’s petite feet with the thick crimson fluid filling my mouth. Her dress and pretty little shoes were ruined and I couldn’t help the smirk turning up the corners of my lips.
“Enza!” I shouted. “SHUT UP!”
She glared over at me like she’d never seen me before but there was also the familiar hint of frustration in her eyes. No matter how scared shitless she was, Enza was still in there, all outward hard edges. Good! She’d need those hard edges before sunrise.
Turning my gaze to Marabelle, I rolled my shoulders and eased the tension making my body rigid. She stared at the red splotches on the pink tulle of her gown, her eyes wide and a snarl curling her thin lips.
Nahnahnah nahnah nah.
Marabelle’s head tilted up to meet my gaze. She glared at me beneath long lashes, malevolence flashing like a lightning strike through her green eyes.
“You can’t have me! Not a chance, Barbie!” I spat.
“Oh, I think you’ll change your mind.” She stepped back in a graceful, lithe flow of skirts that only the supernatural could accomplish. She didn’t like to get her hands or her dress dirty, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t a deadly predator. “Cordero,” she purred with an expectant tone.
He rolled the cart across the floor until I could read the brand of the battery on the side of the casing. It was a DieHard for fuck’s sakes. Something about that struck me like it should be funny.
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
“I’ll have you for my very own,” Marabelle cooed as if Patrick had stolen her toy.
My mind jumped straight to panic mode and my body froze as the realization sank into me. I couldn’t stop Salazan from clamping the jumper cables to my ankles with a sick creak of the spring in the handles.
Ohshit.Ohshit.Ohshit.Ohshit.
My skin tingled with adrenaline and I struggled against the ropes at my wrists. Tight, too fucking tight. If I could have chewed my own arm off to get free at that moment, I would have.
“Please, don’t do this.” I heard the whimper from my lips and cringed, not recognizing my own voice. I sounded like the frightened child of sixteen I’d been all those years ago when my mother had agreed to the electroshock therapy for my illness.
I’m not going to survive this.
“Ahh, maybe now you’ll agree to become my servant. I can wipe Patrick Cavanaugh’s mark from you as quick as this,” she said with a snap of her emaciated, bony fingers.
Patrick’s minute translucent marks at the base of my neck tingled as his face flashed before my eyes. Two years before, Patrick had unwittingly marked me, binding us together with magic, desire, and love. I wasn’t Patrick’s full servant but Marabelle didn’t know that. She didn’t need to know that either.
I CAN survive this.
I WILL survive this.
As Marabelle left the room, Salazan stepped back to the battery, turning to me with a malicious smile lighting the amber flecks of his dark eyes.
Expanding and contracting violently, my chest ached with each panting breath I took and frantic beat of my heart.
“What are you going to do to her?”
Meeting Cordero Salazan’s eyes with defiance, I took a big gasp of air and braced for the pain. A slow, devastating smile curved his full lips as he picked up the jumper cable and clipped it onto the last polarity node on the DieHard.
Electricity burned through me, pain clenching every muscle in my body into a tight knot of immobile, vulnerable horror. Muscles contracted without my brain telling them to and I burned from the inside-out like a wildfire out of control. I screamed out as I tried NOT to bite my tongue off.
The smell of burning flesh and singed hair filled the air . . . again.
Oh God! Again.
Pain! Immeasurable, mind-numbing pain seemed to last forever as the pulse of electricity touched every cell in my body. The hum of it passing through the jumper cable and the sound of my own screams filled my ears.
I will survive this. I WILL SURVIVE THIS!
The spindle from the back of my chair collapsed under my grip as I squeezed it with all the preternatural strength I had in me. Splinters pierced my palms but not even that could distract my mind from the pain surging through me like lightning.
Suddenly . . . Nothing.
The sound of my blood-curdling screams filled my ears. I couldn’t stop. With each breath, a new scream ripped from me, the sound echoing in the marble tomb. My soul felt as if it trembled with grief and remembered pain.
You’re letting them beat you. Fuck! You’re letting your fear win. What happened to the badass killer that WAS the Blushing Death? What happened to the woman that death feared? Patrick and Dean wouldn’t know this pathetic pussy of a woman screaming. You’re stronger than this, damn it! ACT LIKE IT!
The realization hit me li
ke a slap to the face. I was stronger than this, than all of them. My screams died in my throat. Air entered and left my stinging lungs. A menthol cool sensation tingled with each intake of stale cool air.
Raising my eyes to meet Salazan’s glee-filled expression, I breathed. In and out. Letting the cold emptiness of the kill fill my being, I relaxed under his glare. He enjoyed torturing me. The evidence was in the sparkle in his eyes and the erection tenting his thousand-dollar slacks.
I vowed to myself to kill him before this was over. That made me smile.
The hum pulsed across my skin as he clipped the jumper cable to the battery again. Electricity traveled down the cable, flashing through my body in a sharp stab of violence. My body clenched. Clamping my jaw shut, I focused my entire being on Cordero Salazan. I let the scent of Pack wash over me, wrapping its familiarity around my hand and arm like a warm blanket.
My fingers tingled with magic and I concentrated, letting the serenity and confidence of the Pack overwhelm the pain. My fingers shifted, becoming something more as claws burst from my nails and fur tickled across my skin. I tilted my hand, angling my claws up to slice across the ropes binding my wrists until it snapped. My claws shouldn’t have been able to snap the silver-threaded rope but they did. I wasn’t one to ask too many questions, especially when I needed the magic to work in my favor. My hands were free and that was all that mattered. I could ask questions later.
Pressure dwindled, my body slumped, and I exhaled the breath I’d been holding in a slow, controlled release. My skin prickled with the spark of electricity and magic.
Cordero Salazan smirked, sauntering over to me, all male bravado and malicious pleasure. He leaned down, his lips grazing my earlobe and his hot breath skimming across the skin of my neck. “I’ll make you beg before I’m done.”
Golden Anidae (A Blushing Death Novel) Page 20