Seizing her by the other arm, Markus led their trio forward, only to be halted by his reluctant guest planting her feet and thrashing against them with all her might.
“Daddy, no!” she begged, adding a far more tragic spin to this unraveling nightmare. “Please don’t do this!”
There was no need to guess which man held that title. Unable to look her in the eye, Rawling visibly blanched.
“Remember our deal, Lawrence,” Markus clucked.
“She’s his daughter? What the hell is happening?” Carter rasped.
Shushing him out of the corner of my mouth, I squeezed his hand to amplify the urgency of the suggestion. Whatever was about to happen didn’t bode well for anyone with a pulse and no gun.
“I’m sorry.” Tugging his own child forward, Rawling’s voice dropped to a pained whisper, drowning in shame. “I truly am.”
Watching her struggle against the two men, I lurched forward to help. The click of Berry’s gun rooted me to the spot, my obedience ensured when he pressed the barrel to the back of Carter’s head.
“That’s a family matter, darlin’. Best we stay out of it.”
Ignoring her captors, Rau beseeched the girl directly. “My dear, are you all right? Have they harmed you?”
Fingernails digging into her skin, Rawling yanked his daughter behind him. “You don’t get to talk to her. She’s not for you.”
“For him?” The girl’s voice hitched a nervous octave. “What does that mean? Daddy, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”
“So many questions, such demanding interrogation.” Markus gifted us his most charming smile, but something dark and sinister roiled and writhed behind his eyes. “Let’s handle the business at hand, then all will be answered.”
A nod to Rutherford and his right-hand man lunged. Markus’ public show of shaming him—the over the top acceptance of vampire culture—had all been an act. Having tucked his gun in his waistband, Rutherford drew a silver knife from the holster at his hip. He swung wide, throwing his weight into the strike. The fabric of Rau’s clothing split to reveal a gash of gurgling black sludge that seeped from the sizzling edges of the wound.
Face contorting with vampiric rage, Rau’s monster burst forth in a show of fang and fury. He dove for Rutherford, but Berry spun with his weapon raised to cover his spiteful cohort.
“The plan was to keep you alive.” Head listing to the side, Berry closed one eye to peer down the sight at Rau’s forehead. “But plans can be altered.”
Palms raised, Rau backed down, his murderous glare frozen in place.
“Goodness, that was exciting, wasn’t it?” Markus barked with laughter. Dragging the palm of his freehand over his chin dimple, he gestured to Rutherford. “Let’s see the knife.”
Rutherford retrieved his gun, training it on Carter and me as he skirted around the perimeter to deliver his bounty into Markus’ waiting hand.
Pinching it by the hilt with his thumb and forefinger, Markus held it up for inspection. Rau’s blood bubbled on the blade, hissing and spitting like a frying egg. “Mr. Lawrence, I believe this is payment in full: the blood of a descendent of Vlad the Impaler. Only son of the legend. I have no doubt the rush will be extraordinary.” He adjusted his hold, then offered it to Rawling handle first.
He released his daughter, who was all but forgotten as Rawling smacked his lips and reached for his prize. A second before his fingertips brushed the hilt, Markus pulled it from reach. “And the terms of this arrangement are clear to you?”
“Crystal.” Rawling nodded exuberantly.
Taking a step back, Markus’ features sharpened with taunting cruelty. “On second thought, I really think you should be the one to explain it to her. After all, you are her father.”
Dutifully, Rawling began reciting words that must have been drilled into his thick gourd of a head. “The knife and the blood is mine, in exchan—”
“Ah-ah-ah,” Markus interrupted, pulling the dagger farther away. “Not to me. I already know what a loathsome failure you are. Look at her, your only child, and tell her what you’ve done.”
Shuffling in front of his daughter, Rawling cast his gaze to the floor to avoid her pleading stare. “Am-bear—”
“No,” she interrupted, the word slathered with repugnance. “Whatever you’re about to say is well beyond the boundaries of pet names. Show me enough respect not to use those lame cop-outs.”
“Ooh-hoo!” Head falling back, Markus’ guffaw echoed off the ceiling. “She’s a fiery one! Little Miss is having none of your shit, Lawrence. Better try a little harder.”
Rawling shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the tendons of his neck contracting, left eye twitching with the strain of sobriety. “You’re right. You deserve better than that.” Wetting his parched lips, he focused on channeling enough humanity to produce a feigned ounce of compassion. “Amber, I’ve arranged for you to stay with these men in exchange for—”
“Your next fix,” she finished for him, her tone a bluesy sonnet of melancholy and regret.
Anguish crumbled her face, her soul shattering while another red-eye flight roared off to its destination. The hollow cavity of my own torpid heart ached for her.
“You have to understand,” Lawrence pleaded, stare locked on the dagger instead of her, “my blood burns in my veins. I can’t think, can’t help myself. I’m …”
While he hunted for the wording of his paltry excuse, Amber arched back and spat in her father’s face. The thick glob of her saliva trailed down his cheek, dripping off on to his shirt with a heavy splat.
“You sold me for your next high,” Amber sneered. “You’re disgusting. Just go. Get the hell out of here. Whatever depravity they have planned could never be as bad as you. You were supposed to love me, to protect me. Instead, you used me as currency.”
For a beat, the twitching stopped. Clarity softened Rawling’s features. “That’s not true. I love you, Amber, more than anything. I need you to know that.”
“More than anything, huh? That’ll change the second you lick the blood off that knife.” Tearing her glare from her father, she addressed Markus directly. “He doesn’t need to be here anymore. I’m your property now.”
That ever-present grin, which could make the devil wince, coiled the corners of Markus’ lips. “You’re absolutely right. Rutherford, would you please show Mr. Rawling out.”
Crossing her arms over her mid-section, Amber folded in on herself, the fight having left her body. She wouldn’t try to run, of that I was certain. Why bother? Where could she go? The best she could do now was batten down for the storm with the rest of us wayward souls.
Markus tossed the knife to the ground at Rawling’s feet, sending the publicly respected County Commissioner scrambling to claim it as Rutherford seized him by the elbow and steered him toward the door. For Amber’s sake, I wished he had done the inconsolable father act, screaming for his daughter until he faded into the oblivion; that his despairing cries could be heard for miles, resonating his heartache to the heavens. As it was, the only sounds leaving his lips were happy slurps while he dragged his tongue down one side of the blade, then the other.
“And you have the audacity to call us monsters,” Rau marveled, shaking his head in disgust.
“What can I say,” Berry chuckled, tempting fate by scratching his temple with the barrel of the gun. “We’re a fickled kind.”
The hangar door banging shut brought with it a clap of realization. Two stories, lining up in a way no outsider could see.
“The timeline was wrong,” I muttered, acidic clarity burning up the back of my throat. “Joselyn’s father wasn’t trying to avenge his daughter. He never was. He hated vampires, to the point that dismembering them became his compulsion. To him, his daughter’s public involvement with one was an atrocity.” Catching Rau’s stare, I held it in a cradle of empathy. “He sold her to keep his supply of victims flowing.”
A fog of silence blew into the room, slowly turning Rau�
�s head from Berry to Markus. “You were both in my home. Whoever bought her knew about the mask and planted it there.”
Scream ripping from his chest, the vampire lord charged for Berry, knocking the gun from his hand with all the effort of an afterthought. Seizing the statesman by the shirt, Rau slammed him against the cement block wall, his forearm pressed to Berry’s windpipe.
“In all my years, I have loved exactly one woman.” Rau’s voice dipped to a threatening whisper. “If I find out you had anything, anything, to do with her death, I will make you an immortal just so I can spend my days finding new and innovative ways to make you suffer.”
“I suggest you relax, Mr. Mihnea. He had nothing to do with it.” Sauntering behind Amber, Markus’ hand lingered over her throat in an open threat. “I will admit to being the one who purchased your lovely inamorata. Even so, I viewed it as an act of mercy. Poor child’s father held no value for her life. Lord only knows what kind of depravity she would have been subjected to in the hands of a lesser caring individual. Still, if you want to gaze upon the face of her killer, you need not look farther than the closest mirror.”
Caught off guard, Rau loosened his hold, his exposed fangs dripping for justice. “No. I would never hurt her. I couldn’t. It’s not—”
Ffffft.
Ffffft.
Rau’s adamant denial was cut off by two darts missiling into his flesh. One imbedded in his shoulder, the other his calf. A blink later, he crumbled to the ground.
Berry stumbled from the wall, eagerly gulping air by the mouthful.
“What did you give him?” Carter asked, breaking the hush I’d imposed on him.
Markus dug into the pocket of his suit coat and extracted a black masquerade mask vined with gold. “The first was a horse tranquilizer laced with silver to make him more susceptible to its influence.” Ignoring Amber’s whimper of protest, he fixed it over her eyes and tied it into place. “The second was an artificial sulfur substitute. It makes vampires particularly vicious, yet is completely untraceable once the effects wear off. It’s the same concoction he was drugged with before ripping out the throat of his love. A few of your friends have experienced it as well. We find they make excellent hitmen under the influence.”
“He’s the son of Vlad the Impaler, the ultimate vampire,” I warned. “You douse him with that and turn him lose, he’ll kill us all.”
“Not if you’re already gone when he wakes up.” Markus’ expression was a sunny promise of the cotton clouds of freedom.
“And you’ll let us just walk out,” I huffed in wry disbelief.
“I will.” Bowing his head, he glanced up at me from under his brow. The deepest, most vile pits of hell churned in the depths of his stare. “The second you kill this sweet child.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Scientific Method – Continuous process which implements a body of techniques to investigate a phenomenon, acquire knowledge, or correct and integrate previous knowledge.
“Whoa, now.” Berry’s complexion faded chalk white. The hand holding his gun drooped. “Nobody said anything about killing humans. Stagin’ a violent spectacle, I’m all for. But I draw the line at takin’ an innocent girl’s life. My mama raised me as a Christian, and I don’t need her kickin’ my ass at the pearly gates when I—”
His outburst was cut off by winging metal. Blood gurgled from Berry’s lips, a choked gasp rattling from his lungs. Jutting from his throat was a silver knife identical to the one Rawling sauntered out with. Amber shielded her face, her shrill shriek reverberating off the walls in a deafening echo. Legs folding beneath his slack body, the pile of meat that had been Bob Berry slumped to the ground while Rutherford straightened his coat from where he extracted the blade for its fatal toss.
Strolling over to Berry’s body, Markus shook a handkerchief from his breast pocket and used it to yank the knife out in a pulsing spray of crimson. “This will be destroyed,” he explained. “The only weapon able to be tied to this will be the one Daddy Rawling insisted on taking with him.”
“Why?” I forced the words through gritted teeth. “Why take out one of your own?”
Markus’ head snapped up, eyes bulging with faux innocence. “Oh, we didn’t. Rawling was your lap dog. Locked in the thralls of his blood addiction, he killed Berry when he tried to protect Amber from being drained dry by … you.” Clapping a hand over his heart, Markus saluted the corpse at his feet. “He died a hero’s death.”
Lifting my chin, I glared Markus down, frosting him over with my icy stare. “You hate vampires so much you would stage all of this at the expense of two lives?”
“On the contrary.” Markus handed off the knife to Rutherford who would undoubtedly handle the disposal. “I don’t hate any vampires.”
“I do,” Rutherford grumbled. Depositing the handkerchief and knife in a plastic bag, he tucked it into his coat pocket. “Bloodsucking parasites, the lot of you.”
“And your opinion is completely justified.” Markus stabbed a hand in his direction. “I’m simply of the mindset that the Nosferatu do not belong in civilized society. I had hoped voters would come to that decision all on their own, but the latest polls are leaning in the opposite direction. With your help, we’re going to remind them what’s at stake.”
“You’re putting a lot of stock in me playing along,” I snarled.
Carter’s chin dipped in my direction. “Vincenza, don’t.”
“No, I’m genuinely curious.” Talking over him, I took a brazen step forward. “What if, instead of biting her, I … don’t? Then what? You kill me? Give Rau time to wake up so he can tear my throat out for you? I say we skip right to those options, because I’m not touching that girl.”
“Ah, the naivety of youth.” Markus nodded to Rutherford, who jabbed his gun barrel to Carter’s forehead.
“Get on your knees,” Rutherford commanded, his face vacant of remorse or hesitation.
Raising his hands, palms out, Carter obliged.
“Why go for the kill, when you can go for the hurt?” Markus asked, his tone conversational. “You will bite her, Miss Larow, or your friend’s head will be hollowed.”
“Please, no,” Amber whimpered. Legs failing her, she sunk to the ground.
Catching my stare, a sad smile stole across Carter’s features. “I told you I wanted to find a way to make things right with us. Call their bluff, Vinx. Show them they’re the only monsters here.”
“So noble! Such self-sacrifice!” Markus bellowed, throwing his hands in the air. Spinning on me, he let them fall to his sides with a slap. “That’s the kind of guy you should hold on to. Or, you can do nothing and be haunted by the memory of being showered in his gray matter. The choice is yours.”
“Don’t make me do this,” I beseeched the heavens more than the loathsome men lording over me.
Striding to Amber’s side, Markus caught her upper arm and heaved her to her feet. “I wish there was another way, but sadly we’re out of options. At pivotal moments in history, it takes horrendous acts to open the eyes of the public. You are that awakening.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Carter said in a soothing whisper. “You harm her and you won’t be able to live with yourself.”
“Tick tock,” Markus prompted, shoving Amber in my direction. “Don’t let Rutherford make the decision for you. He’s the impatient type.”
“My trigger finger is getting itchy,” Rutherford confirmed with stoic indifference.
Amber’s frantic gaze lobbed from me to Markus, and back again. “Please, just let me go. I won’t say a word to anyone, I swear.” Her voice cracked with emotion, a fresh peal of sobs shuddering through her.
“One girl dies and the rest of you walk out of here.” Maintaining a white-knuckled grip on her arm, Markus’ fingers dug into Amber’s flesh hard enough to sprout a rash of angry purple bruises. “I’ll even help you detox Mihnea so he doesn’t devour you. While I hate to sound like an infomercial, time is running out on this limited time offer
.”
“And then what?” Carter barked, face reddening with helpless frustration. “He paints you as the villain in this to the media? Your life would be over, with the entire country launching a manhunt for your head.”
Closing my eyes, their shouts and pleas melded together into spikes of confusion that hammered into my temples.
“I don’t want to die!”
“Don’t let them make you into something you aren’t.”
“Smell her fear, give in to your desires.”
“Let me do this, Vincenza.”
“I’m begging you, let me go!”
“What’s it going to be, Miss Larow?”
“I love you.”
“Shut him up!” Markus ordered, his mask of calm finally cracking.
My eyes opened to Rutherford pistol whipping Carter, knocking him out cold.
Hands balling into fists at my sides, my fangs ripped from my gum line. “Don’t touch him.”
“That’s entirely up to you.” Markus pulled himself up to full height, glaring down the bridge of his nose at me as if I had shown my hand. “That was just him losing consciousness, imagine how much worse it will be when he’s dead. Time’s up, Vincenza. Someone is got to die. Who’s it going to be?”
Peering down at Carter’s slumped frame, a red haze of fury clouded the edges of my vision. Amber filled her lungs beside me. A glut of questions rushed through my mind before she could expel it.
Could I get her out of the way and use Markus as leverage?
Was I quick enough to take both men out before they hurt anyone?
Would Rau truly be an enraged beast when he awoke? Was I powerful enough to subdue him?
So many questions, yet one crucial quandary completely escaped me: Had anyone noticed the nail file in the pocket of my blazer?
The failure to consider that detail is why it came as a complete surprise when Amber snatched it and buried it handle-deep in my chest.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Veiled (Veiled Book 1) Page 19