42. Sitting together in the carnage.
Chapter forty-two
Sitting together in the carnage...
Nick
T ime fractured.
Nick stared at Shaw—at the fangs, at the black eyes, at the impossibility of everything he thought he knew crumbling into dust. The knife protruded from his chest like an accusation, blood soaking through his pristine gray suit, but Shaw stood there smiling like they were old friends.
Vampire. The word echoed through Nick’s mind, bouncing between his three internal voices like a pinball in a machine that had tilted beyond repair.
Assess the threat , the hunter said with mechanical precision. Extended canines , enhanced strength , probable accelerated healing . Weapon effectiveness: minimal .
He lied to us, the submissive whispered, shock bleeding through the conditioning. Everything was a lie. He made us hunt his own kind.
Of course he did, Nick replied with bitter clarity. Because Shaw never cared about ideology. This was always about control.
“You’re one of them,”Nick said over the rushing in his ears.
Shaw’s smile widened, fangs glinting in the harsh light.“Clearly.”
Nick’s hands trembled as the implications crashed over him. Every mission. Every kill. Every vampire he’d hunted down while Shaw watched from the shadows, orchestrating it all.
“How long?”
Shaw pulled the knife from his chest, tossing it aside where it clattered against the stainless steel prep counter. The wound was already closing, edges knitting together in real time.
“Seven years,”Shaw said, brushing imaginary lint from his bloodstained jacket.“After the monster you abandoned us for and its friends destroyed our organization the first time.”
Seven years. Nick’s mind reeled backward, calculating dates. Shaw had been a vampire for years before Nick was ever brought into the Society. Everything Nick did, every vampire he killed, had been orchestrated by a vampire who played some sort of long game.
“Why?” The word came out as barely more than breath.
Shaw began moving, slow steps that took him around the edge of the prep table. Nickmirrored the movement, keeping distance between them, his training taking over despite the chaos in his head.
Circle left , the hunter advised. Keep the prep station between you and the target . Maintain mobility .
“Hunting with diminished operatives led us to take too many risks,”Shaw explained, his tone almost professorial.“I had the misfortune of being turned by a maker who was rather indiscriminate.”
“Richard,”Nick said, the pieces clicking into place.
Shaw’s eyes lit up with something that might have been pride.“Oh, so you’ve remembered?”
“Everything.”Nick’s voice was getting stronger, anger burning through the shock.“I remember everything.”
“Not everything,”Shaw corrected, continuing his slow circuit around the kitchen.“Otherwise this wouldn’t be such a surprise. But youcertainlykept me fed in more ways than one.”
The casual reference to feeding—to Shaw drinking his blood during—made Nick’s stomach lurch. How many times had Shaw bitten him under the guise of therapy? How many times had Nick thanked him for it?
“We’ve always had such a good dynamic, Nicholas,”Shaw continued, his voice taking on that familiar therapeutic warmth.“We can fix that pesky memory of yours. You can come back.”
Nick’s feet movedautomatically, maintaining distance, looking for advantages. The kitchen was cramped, full of obstacles and potential weapons. But Shaw was faster now, stronger,nearlyimpossible to kill.
Keep him talking , the hunter advised. Gather intelligence . Look for weaknesses .
“Why would I want to come back?”Nick asked, his hand inching toward another knife on the counter.
Shaw’s expression grew patient and indulgent.“Because you were the best hunter we’ve ever had in the state. Singularly focused, unflappable in the field as long as you had orders. Don’t you miss it?”
The question hit Nick like a slap. Did he miss it? Miss the clarity of having a mission, a purpose, someone to tell himexactlywhat needed to be done?
We don’t miss being their weapon.
“You took me out of that fucking box and you broke me, you sick fuck!”The words exploded out of Nick.“For what? For fun and games?”
Shaw’s expression shifted, disappointment flickering across his features.“No, no, Nicholas, listen. You were already a broken thing. We just put you back together with a better purpose.”
“You raped me,”Nick said, the words cutting through the air like the knife Shaw had discarded.
Shaw’s movement stuttered almostimperceptibly. A tell. He doesn’t like direct confrontation about what he did, Nick noted with cold satisfaction.
“I gave you a purpose!”Shaw snapped back, his composed mask slipping for the first time.“What have you done since Henderson hasn’t been around to give you orders? Hmm?Probablythe same thing you did when we found you—cycled between states of catatonia and rage. We gave you a way to exist.”
Nick’s hand closed around the handle of a serrated bread knife, his movements casual, non-threatening. Shaw was getting agitated, defensive. Good .
“You raped me,”Nick repeated.“And you let Owen and Henderson and god knows who else use me. I trusted you.”
The last three words came out broken, carrying the weight of years of betrayal. Shaw had been his lifeline, his anchor, the person who’d pulled him from the wreckage of Gianmarco’s conditioning and taught him to function again. To learn that it had all been another form of abuse—
Shaw lunged, vampire speed carrying him around the kitchen island in a blur. Nick threw himselfsideways, the bread knife cutting a wild arc through the air. The blade caught Shaw across the ribs, opening a line of red through his shirt, but the vampirebarelyflinched.
Shaw’s backhand sent Nick stumbling into the walk-in freezer door, stars exploding across his vision. Before he could recover, Shaw pinned him against the cold metal.
“Enough,”Shaw snarled, his fangs inches from Nick’s throat.“This tantrum has gone on long enough. You’re going to calm down, you’re going to remember your place, and you’re going to thank me for being patient with you.”
Submit, the submissive said. Let him think he’s winning. Get him overconfident.
Fight . Knee to the groin. Headbutt to the nose. Break his grip.
“No,” he said.
Shaw’s grip tightened.“I’m sorry?”
“I said no.”Nick’s voice was calm, steady, andcompletelyhis own.“I’m not going back. I’m not thanking you. And I’m sure as hell not letting you touch me again.”
For a moment, Shaw lookedsurprised. Then his expression shifted, becoming almost wistful.
“I heard about you, you know, before you joined us,”Shaw said. “Whispers of Nicoletti’s broken kitten. I wanted to help you. That’s why I had my maker go to him and make him susceptible to us. We saved you.”
“Your maker told him to cut my fucking throat,”Nick snarled.
“We saved you,“Shaw insisted, his grip tightening.“From a monster who was keeping you in a box, carving you up for fun. We gave you purpose.”
“You’re a fucking rapist and a hypocrite,”Nick spat.
Shaw’s face hardened.“I still believe in the mission. Get rid of vampires. Leave no room for quarter.”
“You killed innocent people!”Nick’s voice cracked with fury.“Haley and Alexei, all those neutral hunters—”
“I killed collaborators,”Shaw cut him offcoldly.
Nick felt a memory click into place, back when he had been confined to a hospital bed and unable to speak.
Shaw told him about his wife and child, casualties that were simply random acts of violence by young vampires that drove Shaw to hunt in the first place.
The tragedy thatsupposedlymotivated everything.
“And what would your dead wife and child think about you now, Shaw?”Nick asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Would they approve of this mission? Of all the collaborators you have now made by continuing to exist?”
Shaw’s face wentblank. For one crucial moment, his grip loosened.
Nick drove his forehead up into Shaw’s nose with everything he had. Cartilage crunched, blood sprayed, and Shaw stumbled back.
Nick spun the bread knife in his grip and drove the pronged end deep into Shaw’s side, the serrated edge tearing through fabric and flesh. Shaw’s howl echoed through the kitchen as Nick dropped low and rolled away from his grasp.
Shaw snarled, blood dripping from his ruined nose.“You want to play like that? Fine.”
Nick came up in a crouch near the kitchen entrance, calculating angles and distances. Don’t watch where he is , the hunter reminded him, w atch where he’s going to be .
Shaw was faster, stronger, but Nick trained to fight vampires. The first lesson: anticipate their movements, cut off their options, force them into predictable patterns.
“Do the others know?”Nick called out, backing toward the dining area.“Do they know their leader is a monster and a rapist?”
“Stop calling me that!”Shaw lunged forward, but Nick was already reading his trajectory.
Kitchen door’s too narrow, Nick calculated. Need open ground. More room to maneuver.
He feigned a stumble to the left, letting Shaw commit to intercepting him there, then jerked right at the last second. The bread knife slashed through the air as Shaw rushed past, catching him across the forearm and opening another line of red.
Shaw spun with inhuman speed, but Nick was already moving again, putting the prep counter between them as he backed away.
“Enough!”Shaw roared, his composurecrackingcompletely.“If you don’t do what we trained you to do, we’ll find a softer, more malleable replacement for you while you sit in a box for time out for the next year.”
The threat hit Nick like ice water. Another box. Another victim to break and reshape. Someone else suffering like he did.
Never again, all three voices said in perfect unison. Not to anyone.
Shaw’s smile turned predatory as he saw Nick’s resolve falter.“I heard your brother is a good fighter. How long do you think he’ll hold out before he fractures? Hmm?”