Bloody Ties

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Bloody Ties Page 7

by Claire Marta


  “He is disrespecting you more and more.”

  A woman’s raised voice, ugly with fury pauses my search.

  It’s coming from a bedroom.

  A blonde is draped across a massive bed. In an instant I know she has to be related to Damien, the resemblance is hard to miss.

  “We cannot allow this to go unpunished Lucius.” A second feminine voice joins the first. This one is dark haired and shares features with the ones my captor calls his brothers.

  “I agree with you, if the fucker refuses to know his place I have plenty of other sons to fill his shoes. If he thinks I am going to let him take my coven he’s a fool.”

  Lucius is just as I remember him from when he confronted me when I was first dragged into this viper’s nest. Arrogant like his children. Standing in the doorway of the conjoining bathroom he has nothing on but a robe.

  “They won’t like that.” The blonde who looks around eighteen pipes in. “You saw how they followed him tonight.”

  “If we do it the right way they’ll have no choice.”

  “You already have a plan?”

  Lucius’s lips spread in an evil smile. “I can’t be blamed if Jonathan Carr murders him for assassinating his daughter. Blood or not I am in charge here and I won’t be undermined, not even by my sons.”

  The women don’t disagree. In fact their pleasure at his suggestion turns my stomach. I have always thought my father to be unfeeling and cruel, but it looks like he has competition in that running.

  I watch as he joins them on the mattress. Slipping his robe from his shoulders they crawl all over his naked figure like the hungry whores they are.

  Leaving them to their fucking and scheming I explore some more. Another wing of the house, this one feels less crowded. Music is playing softly and I drift towards the notes.

  Damien. Stretched out across a leather sofa an arm flung across his eyes against the bright light of a table lamp he appears to be dozing, unaware of the threats to his life.

  A mix of emotions swirl through me. Lust is at the forefront. Next comes an urge to thrust a knife through his chest for everything he’s putting me through. I hate him. Yet at the same time the desire to fuck him all over again is undeniable.

  Silver eyes snap open. Muscles taught he jackknives up. For a beat he’s on alert, his attention swinging round the room.

  No one has ever sensed me before. No one as far as I know can.

  Tension eases from his form as he relaxes. He thinks he’s alone. Reaching for the glass on the table he pours himself a whisky.

  I want to linger but I don’t. Time is being wasted. Kylie is my objective.

  More minions and I soon find my friend. Beaten, bloodied, weak and unconscious they have her in a similar cell as my own. I am more than sure they are keeping her knocked out to save the trouble of dealing with her. Where I am concerned she is like a lioness protecting her cub. Not for one second would I ever believe she would stop trying to get to me.

  Relief makes me want to cry, not that I can without my physical form. I want to talk to her. Apologize for being such a stuck-up bitch and not listening to her advice. If we ever get out of this I will use everything she has ever taught me. Never again will I turn my nose up at bagged blood and even sustenance from animals.

  The pull comes with no warning. Like a rubber band expanded as far as it will go, my tether to my body flings me back. Agony overcomes me as I hit back straight into a seizure locking my limbs.

  Screams muffled by the gag, blood joins the saliva still oozing from my confined mouth. It’s thick in my throat but I have no way to vomit. As the convulsion ebbs away I slump low in my chair. Sobbing softly I can’t stop the darkness that sucks me into unconsciousness.

  Damien

  Two days after the lovely dinner with my family I’m opening the storage unit that houses the princess.

  My brothers and Sheila are accompanying me.

  Two days and just enough blood to keep her from being too weak to think should have given Ava enough time to reconsider. Of course if she refuses to help I have a few tricks up my sleeve.

  Oscar removes the ball gag. I’m almost sad to see it go. It fits in with the fantasy I had about her being tied to my bed. Shaking myself from those thoughts I focus on the task at hand and not how good it feels to be in her tight pussy.

  “Can’t kill me without an audience?” She croaks, her voice is weak.

  She glares at me from behind a mess of tangled black hair.

  “Oh sweetheart, if I were going to kill you I’d fucking televise it.” I give her my most charming smile. “You’ve never been properly introduced to my family. And I hope we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, so now’s the time.”

  I gesture to Phillip. He doesn’t disappoint. In a sweeping bow he smiles at Ava. “Phillip and Sheila Rochester at your service.”

  “Didn’t think some poor whore would actually want to mate with one of you.”

  Sheila’s hand flexes at her side, but I know she won’t do anything without my permission.

  With less theatrics Oscar and Michael both introduce themselves. “Funny, I seem to remember Michael being the one you gave me, the first time we met.” She sneers.

  “I don’t give my name out to whores.” I snap back. “Now, sweetheart,” I run my fingers down her cheek because for some fucking reason I can’t be near her without touching her. “Tell me, are you ready to give us what we want?”

  “Fuck you. Take me to Kylie so we can at least die together.” She struggles in her bindings.

  “Oh no, we’re not killing you. That’s too easy. We will, however use you in any way we please.”

  She can’t hide the shudder that runs through her.

  Neither I, nor any of my men would touch her. We’re not animals like Lucius and his men. She doesn’t need to know that though.

  “Tell me all you know about Jonathan Carr and his operation, and we might be able to come to some understanding.”

  She spits at me. “Go to hell.”

  Wiping my face on the sleeve of my suit jacket I stand and nod to Oscar and Sheila.

  Oscar unties the girl from the chair and brings her to her feet. She stumbles, I’m sure her muscles are cramped from not being able to move, she’s weak.

  Even if she wasn’t I wouldn’t be too worried, it’s five on one.

  “So, this is the girl that thinks she’s too good for us? I don’t see the appeal, sure she’s pretty enough, would look even better if something were done with all this hair.” Sheila fingers a strand of Ava’s hair before flicking her own fiery colored hair over her shoulder.

  “Don’t fucking touch me.”

  “Oh how cute. She thinks she can tell me what to do.” Sheila unsheathes her favorite knife. Four inches long, thick, and wicked sharp, I’ve seen her carve up vamps twice the size of Ava with it.

  “Let’s get one thing straight, bitch.” Sheila grabs a fistfull of hair, Ava cries out when she tugs her head back, exposing her throat. “If you ever touch my husband again, I’ll rip your heart out through your throat.”

  Ava gasps, and then goes completely still.

  With an even rarer mental ability than Ava’s, Sheila can freeze the mind of her victim. Rendering them paralyzed as their brain can’t send signals to any of their body parts. It’s like being in a waking coma.

  The first stab goes into her neck, just inches from her jugular. Ava’s body starts trembling and I know that Sheila released her from her hold.

  We all know that one wrong move and she’ll be dead.

  “Go ahead, Michael.” I say lowly.

  My hope is that he’ll be able to get into her mind again, after all he’s done it once before.

  Oscar releases Ava but she doesn’t move, weak as she is with a knife in her neck she’s not that stupid. At least I hope not.

  I swear this bitch better not try to die. This plan all revolves around getting as much information out of her as I can.

&nbs
p; I could easily use her companion as well, but this is more fun. Plus she’s closer to Jonathan and his operation.

  Oscar carefully moves her hair from her face.

  He holds the mass of hair behind her head. All those silky strands are now a tangled, unwashed mess.

  Sheila takes another knife and cuts through her dirty clothes. With the tip of the blade she circles her navel before traveling up to between her breasts.

  “How attached are you to your nipples?” Sheila asks quietly.

  Ava doesn’t answer.

  The slap is hard and fast, Ava’s whole body jerks and she cries out. With her hair in Oscar’s firm grip and the knife that embeds itself deeper into her neck she’s in a very uncomfortable position.

  “When I ask you a question I expect an answer.” Sheila seethes.

  “I have nothing to say to you.”

  “Such a shame.”

  Ava drops toward the floor, only to be jerked up by her hair. Her scream is music to my ears.

  The crack of her knee cap after Sheila kicked her lets us know it’s probably shattered.

  Tears are running down her face. Blood runs from the side of her neck. “Anything?” I ask Michael, not taking my eyes off the beautiful broken sight Ava makes.

  “Bitch is locked up tight. You good, Sheila?”

  “Yep.”

  “Phillip?” I ask.

  “I’m ready.”

  At my nod Oscar slowly withdraws the blade from her neck. “Here’s how it’s going to go, sweetheart. You either tell us what we want to know. Or you will be tortured.”

  She says nothing.

  With a thin piece of silver wire Oscar wraps it around her smooth neck. He tightens it until she runs the risk of suffocating.

  Sheila freezes her body while Michael, Phillip, and I work on getting past her defenses.

  We crowd into her mind, she’s cracking, I can feel it. But what will break first? Her will or her mind?

  “Okay,” the rasp is so low I almost miss it. “I’ll tell you.”

  “Stop.”

  She’s on the floor, gasping for breath. Her head rests against the concrete floor. I’m sure it feels like her brain is going to explode with that much power invading her mind.

  Vampires can naturally read minds, but only those that are open to us. Most have decent defenses. The Rochester legacy has always been the strongest of our kind. Always been able to get past even the strongest mental defenses.

  So why none of us can get a read on her is frustrating.

  “Please, I need to see Kylie. I need to get out of this fucking room. Please, don’t leave me here.” She sobs into the ground.

  Whether it’s from the pain, the torture, or her weakness I don’t care. So long as I get what I want.

  “I...I can’t.” She gasps.

  Her body shakes more and I’m on the ground rolling her to her back. “What can’t you do?” My voice is softer than normal.

  “I-I…” and then her eyes close but her body keeps convulsing.

  “I need blood, now!”

  Ava

  Taunt as a bow my back arches off the ground as another convulsion rips through me. I’m too exhausted. There’s no longer enough blood in my system to keep things functioning.

  Eyes screwed shut I am done seeing this miserable fucking place or the faces of my torturers.

  Hands touch my body, holding me down, rough and cruel.

  “Where’s the Goddamn blood?” Damien’s voice is a roar.

  “We’re almost in, brother.” The excitement in the other voice is unmissable. “We need just a bit longer.”

  “If she dies before we break her we get nothing.”

  Strong hands slid under my armpits. Dragged backwards a hard chest cradles my back. Firm, long legs are now entwined with mine. All energy spent I don’t put up any fight. For once since being kidnapped and tormented I have a brief moment of feeling safe. It’s fucked up I know. Limp and at the mercy of this Rochester bastard, it should make me feel terrified at how vulnerable I now am.

  Delirium is fracturing my thoughts. As another wave of pain twists my insides, I claw helpless at the arms that are now anchored around my waist.

  “This...saves...him having me murdered…” It comes out in a sob.

  The embrace around me tightens. “I told you the plan’s not to kill you, princess.”

  “Not you. Lucius and his whores.”

  Damien’s snort reaches my ears. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

  “Here’s the blood.”

  At the sound of his brother, Michael, I feel a hand grip my jaw. “I’ll hold her mouth open and you pour it down.”

  Like a frail puppet I am held in place. Lips parted I wait for what I know is coming. As the edge of the bag touches my mouth the first trickle of blood seeps down my throat.

  It’s almost too much to bear. Starved, almost to the point of no return, my stomach heaves in protest as the liquid meets it. I groan as the urge to vomit rises.

  “Slow the fuck down.” Damien snaps. “If you go too fast she’ll choke and throw up all over the place and we’ll have to start again.”

  The sustenance becomes a dribble. Any need to purge what has already inundated my belly passes over time.

  People are talking quietly in the background, but what they are saying see-saws through my consciousness without making any real sense.

  “Enough. That should be all she needs right now, but we’ll give her a bit more in an hour or two just to be sure.”

  Damien’s words vibrate through his chest. Releasing the control he has on my jaw his fingers slither down the column of my throat. They still at the pulse point in my neck close to where the wound Sheila had made, which has stopped bleeding.

  I don’t want to move. Taking comfort from another being is something I have rarely felt. Sex for me has always been a release. Normally I never stay long enough after to cuddle. Still out of my skull I snuggle into the warmth of the male body, who has me nestled on his lap.

  “Lucius is going to replace you. That’s what he told those whores in his bed.” I babble in a croak. “My father’s an arsehole. That’s why I ran away, but he doesn’t want me dead like your’s does. He can’t get rid of me yet .” Opening my drooping eyelids I stare up at him with pity.

  Damien doesn’t look down, his focus is fixated on the abandoned chair in front of him. He is tense beneath me. I can feel a current thrumming through him as if he too isn’t used to this kind of contact. If I were in my right state of mind it wouldn’t be happening. Yet we both continue to sit, neither making a move to break the connection.

  “What the fuck is she rambling on about?” Sheila growls from her place beside Phillip.

  “I think we broke the silly bitch.” Michael replies from where he is still crouched, the half empty blood bag clutched in his hand.

  “This far gone she’s still irrational and her defenses low until the blood kicks in. It should be easier to crack her now.”

  “Please don’t leave me in here, Damien.” Grasping the front of his shirt I bury my face in the fabric with the desperate plea. “I’ll do anything you want.”

  Before I realise what is happening my haven of male warmth and flesh dumps me on the floor. The loss brings a whimper. Sliding onto my arse I wrap my arms around my chest. My broken knee cap is throbbing, just another sensation adding to the never ending stream of pain.

  “Let’s finish it.” His voice is now cool his eyes hard and remote.

  Pressure starts again inside my skull. Not as slowly as the last time. Screaming as I clutch my forehead it feels as if everything is being compressed. I don’t understand what they are doing or why I have fleeting impressions of others flicking through my memories as if they were the pages of a book.

  Concrete meets me as I slump on my side. Tears are dampening my cheeks as they course free and unchecked. They want my knowledge and secrets. Like fucking thieves they pry away layer after layer of my life.

&n
bsp; My mother’s smiling face.

  The night Jonathan Carr murdered her in front of me.

  The humiliations and punishments at his hands every day of my existence.

  My first lover who I seduced when I was fifteen-years-old.

  Kylie’s self defense lessons.

  Father’s verbal disappointments that he could not produce a male heir.

  More mistreatment by the man who had barely raised me.

  Scenes from the night of the party and the closet leak free.

  Damien’s touch and kisses as we made out. His groans of satisfaction as I caressed him.

  The library swims into view and my father’s plans to auction me off to destroy his enemies.

  My failed attack.

  Mine and Kylie’s escape.

  “I want all of it, strip her clean.” Damien tells his brothers, harshly.

  Screeching I mash the heels of my palms into my eyes. Breathing erratic I smell the metallic scent of the blood streaming from my nose. It’s too much, there are things they cannot be allowed to see. Yet I can’t combat their combined power probing inside my head.

  Damien surging between my thighs as he had fucked me the first night of my captivity.

  The attempted rape of the thugs sent to kill me. Sweaty greedy hands squeezing my tits as they had tried to take my mouth.

  The death gurgle of one as the blade of the knife slid through his heart.

  Lucius. Grainy at first the memory is nothing but a thread. Weedling the presences dig deeper. Coming into sharp focus the conversation in his bedroom with his bitches is slashed out and extracted.

  Next comes Damien in his office dozing.

  Finally Kylie trapped and held hostage.

  Suddenly I’m alone.

  Eyes closed, shuddering breath after breath escapes my chest. Although they have released me I feel hollow and shattered inside. I have never been told what the Rochesters can do, but now I’ve just had a taste of it. Everything I am has been split in two and opened. Peeled away like an egg. The violation leaves me quiet, raw and shaken, knowing now they have everything they need.

 

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