Bloody Ties

by Claire Marta

  A smile edges Kylie’s lips. “Me and my fucking advice. Fine we’ll go back.”

  As her expression becomes alert she barely has time to react. Catching her in the gut the knife buries itself deep.

  “Fuck.” Dodging she tries to avoid the next one as it whooshes through the air. “Run, Ava.”

  Raising my gun I search for the source of the attack.

  “If you run I’ll flay the bitch alive.” Stepping from the shadows, Ivan’s huge bulk is a terrifyingly familiar sight.

  Tapping the end of his other blade against his lips, I can see he is itching to use it on Kylie.

  He’s not alone. At least a dozen of my father’s men are with them. All heavily armed.

  “Drop the gun.”

  “Ava, run it doesn’t matter about me.” Kylie shouts. One hand pressed against the knife still in her body, she tries to stem the flow of blood. Her gun is trained on the Russian.

  I know she’s weak. The feedings Damien has allowed us have deliberately kept us this way.

  “Of course it matters to her.” Ivan sneers. “She cares about you. You’re her weakness.”

  I don’t have much choice. We’re outnumbered. If I run I won’t get far. Letting the weapon slid across the ground he stops it with the toe of his boot.

  “We’ll come with you. Just...just don’t hurt us.” My fear isn’t for me. I know what happens to traitors.

  Without a blink Kylie pulls the trigger. Before it even reaches him the tiny projectile veers off course.

  “What the fuck?” Emptying her clip she tries again and again with the same result.

  “Neither your bullets nor knives will ever touch me.” Stalking across the distance, he kicks the now empty gun from her hand.

  “Leave her alone.” Screaming I fling myself in the way.

  I have seen this expression before. Seen death in his cold stone stare.

  “Hold the girl back. I want her to watch this.”

  Cruel, unfriendly hands catch me. Arms twisted behind my back, I am forced down onto my knees.

  Bring her elbow up, Kylie catches Ivan in the nose as he reaches for her. A moment later she’s darting away. “I don’t need a knife or a bullet to end a sack of shit like you.”

  “Maybe before.” Ivan shrugs as he gestures between them with his knife. “But even I can see you’re weakened from lack of blood.”

  She knows it’s true. I can see it written all over her face and yet she doesn’t back down.

  In a blur they’re all movement and fists.

  Knee up, Kylie catches him in the groin, before jabbing a blow to his ribs. She’s fast, but not as quick as she usually is.

  The Russian barely reacts to the pain. Snatching at the handle of the dagger still in her gut, he twists it ferociously, before tearing it free.

  Screaming Kylie stumbles back. Crimson now paints her top and jeans, growing thicker by the moment.

  “With the amount of blood you are losing you don’t have a chance in hell.” Raising the metal to his mouth Ivan slowly licks it clean.

  “Kylie!” I can’t stop the sob which escapes from my chest.

  We both know he doesn’t intend to let her live. In my heart I know she would rather go out battling in an attempt to save me.

  “If I am going to die then I am taking your ugly arse with me.” She growls. In a blur they are once more trading punches. Lurching forward she goes for one of his weapons.

  It’s a gamble and a mistake.

  Stronger, faster, he brings one up just as she reaches him. As the tip pierces her chest her blue eyes pop wide in surprise.

  Slithering it upwards Ivan leaves a gaping wound in his wake. Swinging her round so her back hits his muscled chest, his other blade slices through the skin of her neck.

  I can’t stop screaming. Struggling frantically I try to get up, but my captors subdue me

  Gurgling, it sounds like something is broken in Kylie’s chest.

  Letting her slip to the pavement the Russian crouches, taking my friend by the hair as he expertly continues to cut through tendons and flesh

  Dark eyes locked on mine Ivan licks the side of Kylie’s cheek in one long swipe as the life leaves her body.

  “Kylie, no! Please, NO!” I can’t stop the sobs now as they are wrenched from my body. Tears blind me, making everything a kaleidoscope of red and black.

  “Strip her and get her in the back of the van.” He instructs his men in an emotionless tone. “The Boss is already on his way back to his mansion, and we can’t chance those Rochester fuckers surviving the traps we left for them.”

  Screeching, I dig my nails into the hands that tear at my clothes. A blow to the side of my head has me seeing stars. Breathing hard I sink my teeth into an arm, but I can’t get a good hold.

  Another slap leaves the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. A kick to my side takes me to my hands and knees. Trying to defend myself I soon find I am overwhelmed.

  Cool air washes over my body, now naked and exposed.

  Leering expressions, the men take their fill of my nude body.

  An explosion rocks the night. Heat rippling in a wave, I gasp as I see the warehouse on fire, its roof caving in from the blast.

  “Starting moving, now!” Ivan barks as he wraps the length of my makeshift ponytail around his chunky fist. Dragging me up he marches me along, deliberately keeping me walking on tiptoe, as he yanks my hair high. The edge of blade he murdered Kylie with caresses my throat.

  Struggling I can’t escape. Where are Damien and his brothers? Are they all dead? Is Michael still safe in the dumpster?

  The first thing I see in the back of the windowless van is the mattress on the floor.

  “I’m going to make you bleed and then I’m going to fuck you.” Ivan’s words are filled with menace.

  Screaming at the top of my lungs, I swing in his grip to claw at his face. All it gets me is another savage punch. The force of it almost blacks me out.

  Disorientated and in agony, I suddenly find myself face down on the mattress. His big body covers my own. The weight of him crushes the air from my lungs. My screams are smothered as one big hand holds the back of my head down.

  He’s going to rape me. The shock and realization is almost paralyzing.

  Fingers spread my arse cheeks, making me writhe in blind fear. Without finesse he works one thick digit into my unprepared hole.

  “I’ll kill you.” I say in a muffled sob.

  His only reply is a grunt.

  Another finger joins the first. My tight back passage is burning with the sensation. It’s far from pleasurable. The pain without any type of lubrication has me clawing for mercy.

  “Did that Rochester bastard take this sweet sphincter? Were you his good little whore? Fucked him so well he decided to keep you around?” He asks tauntingly. “I told him when we cut him up that I was going to make you mine. Make you bleed.

  Told him all the fucked up things I was going to do to you, before you’re sold to become another man’s slut. And do you know something? He didn’t care.” His chuckle is amused. “Because, sweetheart, you don’t matter to anyone.”

  “Fuck you! Get off me.”

  The vibration of the vehicle moving seeps into my awareness.

  For a moment the pressure eases on my back and I suck more air into my lungs, but it doesn’t last long. Firm, hard, naked, excited male flesh meets the coldness of my back.

  I can’t move.

  My smaller frame is dominated by his. Trying to buck him off proves useless and only excites him more.

  The sound of tearing reaches my ears. An open condom wrapper deliberately flutters down beside my face.

  “I’m not allowed to impregnate you. That’s down to whoever your father chooses, but that won’t stop me having some fun with this cunt of yours for the next hour and a half.” Driving my head to the side, I shriek as his fangs plunge into the vein in my neck, and the first hard thrust violates me.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN
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  Damien

  WELL THAT DIDN’T GO AS PLANNED. FUCKING BASTARDS.

  Everything fucking hurts. I can only hope that Ava gives Phillip useful information, because I do not want to deal with these bastards alone right now.

  The door to my cell swings open and I have to hold back an ironic smile. The past two weeks I’ve been using my own cells to hold Jonathan Carr’s princess, now he’s holding me in one.

  “You’re an arrogant fool, Damien.” Jonathan says as he walks into the room. His black suit is tailored to him perfectly.

  His daughter looks less like him than I do my own father. If I didn’t know how controlling and paranoid he is I would question the princess’s paternity.

  The large man that follows him in the room is as big as my traitor of a right hand man. If that’s supposed to intimidate me these English fuckers are dumber than I realized.

  “Did you really think it you’d be able to get away with kidnapping my daughter?”

  “If I recall correctly, my brothers and I picked her up from the street.”

  “Watch your mouth.” Jonathan hisses. “I won’t tolerate your disrespect.”

  “Was that disrespectful? I thought I was just stating a fact.”

  The blow isn’t unexpected. The huge blond fucker smirks when I spit blood.

  “Gonna have to do better than that, princess.” I tease.

  “Easy, Ivan.” Jonathan tells his brute. “You’ll have your chance to play.”

  The metallic taste of my own blood fills my mouth and I have to spit again.

  “Tell me, Damien.” Jonathan says. “What do you want with my daughter?”

  I don’t say anything. I don’t even look at the fucker. My eyes stay on the large man who smiles a sadistic smile. I spy a knife on his belt and my fingers itch to get a hold of it.

  I’ve always been good with knives. The things I could do with that one knife could possibly mean the difference between life and death for me.

  “Tell me, what are your plans for your father’s coven?” I can feel his power as he tries to persuade me into giving him whatever he wants.

  Stupid man. I’m not that weak.

  Jonathan gets frustrated as the more he tries to get me to spill the less he gets out of me.

  It makes it easy for me to slip into his mind, however, and what I see turns my stomach.

  It was one thing to see Ava’s childhood from her own perspective, but to see him as he enjoyed every single second of it is something else altogether.

  Sick, twisted bastard. Lucius isn’t going to be winning any father of the year awards, but at least he never tortured us for his own amusement.

  I see Jamal telling Jonathan all of our trade secrets. I’m surprised he didn’t give up anything about our ability, even under the influence of Jonathan’s power. It makes me even more curious to know what my brothers can get out of him.

  “You don’t know how happy I was to hear my men didn’t just get one of the infamous Rochester brothers, but the first born.

  Of course unlike me Lucius Rochester won’t be on the hunt for you. I care about my daughter’s whereabouts and am anxious to have her back in my home.”

  “You mean so you can marry her off to one of your despicable allies. You’re nothing but a thief and thug.”

  “I’m a businessman. Much like you. Do not tell me that you wouldn’t do the same thing in my position.”

  His power tries to probe my mind again.

  I don’t speak. Instead I spit a mouthful of blood at him, dirtying his crisp white shirt.

  Jonathan gives me a look full of hate.

  “I don’t have time for this. I’m sure your siblings will be along soon enough. I must prepare for their arrival.

  Have fun with Ivan.”

  The steel door shuts and Ivan smiles at me. I yawn.

  “Stupid American.” He sneers. “I can’t wait to break you.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  Ivan back hands me and I go with the flow.

  He’s going to find that I’ve been trained to handle just about everything. You don’t live in a house with Lucius as your father and not learn how to survive an interrogation.

  With my hands chained in silver behind my back and my legs chained to the chair I’m helpless.

  Ivan hits me again. The bones in my cheek crack under his large fist. That’s going to be a bitch to heal.

  A meaty hand grabs a hold of my curls. He tugs my head back, exposing my neck. “Such pretty skin.” He coos. “Would be a shame to see it all cut up.”

  The sound of metal being pulled out of leather fills the room. The cool tip of the silver knife touches the soft skin of my neck. With quick and easy movements the knife cuts up my throat. Shallow cuts, just enough to get the blood flowing.

  It reminds me of something Sheila would do.

  “Such pretty hair. If I had more time I’d scalp you.” Ivan muses.

  Ivan moves faster than his bulk should allow, damn Supernatural speed. The snap echoes around the room and I have to bite my tongue to the point of making it bleed so I don’t cry out.

  With my arms still tied behind me, my now dislocated shoulder is a heat of fiery pain up and down my arm.

  “Does that hurt?” He taunts.

  “Not even a little.” My voice is even, controlled. I’m a leader after all. I have to learn how to stay calm in all situations.

  Ivan moves again and suddenly cool air hits my upper thigh and crotch as the bastard cuts open a hundred dollar pair of jeans.

  “I’ll send you the bill,” I tell him.

  That remark earns me a fist in the mouth. There’s a crack in my jaw but it doesn’t break.

  Ivan moves behind me and removes the chain on my injured arm. He leaves the other one shackled to the chair.

  A stool appears in front of me and my hand is laid flat on it. Ivan tugs harder than necessary and pain shoots up my arm. I don’t make a sound. Another crack in my jaw from clenching my teeth together.

  The hammer slams against my hand over and over again. I can feel every bone in my hand swimming just underneath the skin.

  “Have you ever wondered what was under the skin? All this flesh encasing the veins, the muscle, and the bone.”

  I spit more blood. This time aiming for his face. Bastard doesn’t even flinch.

  Starting underneath the nail Ivan peels my skin from my body. Blood rushes from the wound.

  It’s not long before the whole top of my hand is exposed. I can’t help but gasp.

  I’m losing a lot of blood, from my mouth, my throat, now my fucking hand.

  The Butcher, Ava called him in her memories. Deciding it can’t get any worse I decide to taunt the fucker.

  “They call you The Butcher, but all I’m seeing is someone who plays with his food.”

  Ivan growls and then gets up. He leaves the room and I take the time to catch my breath.

  Fucker left his knife on the stool. He also didn’t tighten the chain around my good arm.

  Amature.

  Wiggling so the chain falls even looser I slip my arm out. Grabbing the knife, I stuff it in the waistband of my pants, and then place my arm back into the chains behind me.

  My skin burns at the initial contact of silver, but it’s not the worse I’ve felt.

  Ivan walks back into the room with a woman following behind.

  Besides their footsteps the only sound in the room is the splatter of my blood making contact with the concrete floor.

  Ivan takes the pot the woman was carrying and unceremoniously dumps the boiling hot water over my hand.

  Even I have a breaking point.

  The scream rips out of me against my will.

  “Oh look, he’s not a mute after all.”

  “This is child’s play.” I hiss. The pain is immeasurable.

  Blood pumps from my hand. The muscles are red and irritated.

  Ivan pulls out a saw next. Of course he does, the bastard.

  My vision is f
ading. Pain plus blood loss is not a great combination. And even I’m not immune to it.

  Gripping my injured arm in one hand he snaps the bone in half. I manage to hold back my scream, but just barely.

  He looks from my arm to the saw in his hand.

  My eyes burn but I don’t blink. I keep my face focused on him completely.

  Ivan tosses the saw to the side and instead pulls out a corkscrew like device from his pocket.

  “The boss wants me to break you. He wants you so weak you won’t be able to block him out. He wants your secrets. Personally, I don’t think you’ll break. I think you’re too much of an arrogant asshole for that.

  However, playing with you has proven to be fun.”

  Ivan sits in a chair and stabs the top of my hand with the corkscrew.

  A hiss of pain escapes my lips. The woman lets out a gasp. I forgot she was in here.

  “If you’re squeamish get out now.”

  The woman picks up her pot and flees.

  Ivan begins to turn the top of the screw and it cuts deep into my muscle. The bones snap further under the pressure. The twisting as he pins my hand to the wooden stool rips my muscles to shreds.

  “Had enough, Rochester?”

  “Not nearly enough, dog.” I spit again. Blood sprays his face and he wipes it away with an angry jerk.

  “Bones heal, skin grows back, but limbs.” He picks up the saw, “yes, limbs don’t come back, do they.”

  Just as the jagged teeth touch my flesh the door bangs open.

  The disheveled vamp takes in the scene before he gets his wits about him.

  “There’s been a breach, the Rochesters have invaded.”

  “Well would you look at that. Seems the rest of your kind were dumb enough to come rescue your pussy ass.”

  Ivan tosses the saw to the side, takes another knife from his belt and cuts my throat. Just under the jugular.

  Bastard wants me to bleed out slowly.

  Ivan runs from the room with the other vamp trailing close behind, gunfire echoes throughout the warehouse. Even deep underground I can hear it.

  Did you bring the princess? It’s risky reaching out to my siblings, but I don’t have a choice. I need to know they weren’t dumb enough to bring her so close to Jonathan.