Chapter IV
Tarryn
I should have known, really. Vampyres like dark, dank places.
Of course, catacombs deep underground would be a favored spot.
It’s been a while since I’ve encountered one this far underground, but in the past they were common.
Less so for centuries now since they rule the world, though on occasion my brothers and I have cleared out lairs. None that looked like this.
“You been here before?” I ask, studying the vampyre carefully for any clues. There’s a high chance he’ll lie to me, but expressions aren’t so easy to master.
He’s still staring at the symbol, frown firmly in place, eyebrows drawn together.
Either he’s very good at faking surprise, or he doesn’t understand why the symbol is here anymore than I do.
It’s a waste of time to speculate. I don’t care where we are, only how to get out.
Vampyre living habits aren’t an interest of mine.
“Keep going,” I tell him, giving him another shove for good measure.
Nothing can have survived down here for any length of time, but I’m not willing to take any chances.
I want above ground as soon as possible.
Then I’ll take Nicolai back to my pack, where he’ll wish he’d never been turned.
We’ll do whatever it takes to get every piece of information we need out of him.
If we can get out of here. Every time we turn a corner, it feels like déjà vu. The corridors all look exactly the fucking same. We could be chasing our tails until we starve down here. Fuck that. After centuries of fighting the bloodsucking scum oppressing my kind, this isn’t how I’m going to die.
We end up in a small circular room with a floor curved like a sphere and with drainage holes in the center.
What did they use this for? Too many possibilities to bother speculating.
Especially when it comes to the viciousness of the vampyre race.
Don’t imagine what they did here was particularly friendly.
They don’t play nice with their neighbors.
The room leads off in three different directions, with no indication where each one leads. They’re identical, just like everywhere else. If someone once called this home, then they had a hell of a memory getting around the place without getting lost. Or they had a really detailed map.
Nicolai remains silent while I decide which way to go. Somehow that makes it worse. Like he’s judging me for every second he waits. As if he could do any better. My sense of direction is a thousand times better than his.
I go left. As good a direction as any. Let’s see the vampyre do any better.
As we continue, the paths get more cramped. I’m too fucking big for this place, and I have to turn just a little to the left to fit through. Vampyres have a smaller physique, and they can squirm into tight places like rats. Lycans? We’re not made for tiny dark places.
The further we go, the tighter it gets, and the vampyre slows down, his breathing more labored, ragged. Is he… panicking? “What the hell is wrong with you?”
He stiffens. “Nothing.” His shoulder bumps against the wall, and he flinches away from it, causing him to hit the opposite wall.
He hunches in as though attempting to not touch either side.
He has more luck than me, considering his size.
The fact he’s hunching at all brings me to a conclusion that seems completely wrong.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” The vampyre is afraid of enclosed spaces? There’s some cruel—and fucking hilarious—irony in there somewhere. “You’re scared.”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
He spits something at me that’s in his native language and not one I can speak. It sounds dirty, and amusement curls the corner of my mouth.
“What a mouth on you. I thought you were all supposed to be sophisticated and shit.”
There’s no reply, so I keep walking. Dormant prey is no fun. His rapidly beating heart only speeds up further as we go. He’s still doing his best to not touch the walls surrounding us, without much luck. That only makes the unsteady heart rate worse.
“Cut it the fuck out,” I growl. Something about his agitation is making me want to shift to my beast form, the urge clawing at the edges of my vision. I can’t here, or I really will get stuck.
“Shut up,” he hisses. When he twists to glare at me, I can see his fangs peeking out between his lips. Even his curious eyes have a tinge of madness to them. He’s really getting riled up. He’s not just afraid, he’s terrified.
Bloody hell. We aren’t going to get anywhere with him in this state.
I yank his chains and stop him from walking further.
He snarls and snaps his teeth at me when I force him to turn around again.
The fact he hasn’t noticed how easily he does it—and how difficult I would find it—says just how bad he’s gotten.
Bloody hell. Am I supposed to comfort the bloodsucker?
The more he makes a fucking fuss, the longer we’re going to be stuck down here. “See how big I am?”
Nicolai is small even for a vampyre. Five ten if he stretches out his neck. The corset fits nicely over his lithe frame, emphasizing the toned figure and coiled muscles. Thick black hair and angular features. Heart-shaped lips. Not a hardship to look at.
Too bad about the cold-blooded sucker thing.
Looks good in chains, though. It’s my purpose in life to ensure that all the vampyres in the world end up this way.
Chained or dead. They’ve held lycans under their thumbs, tamed and caged like animals, for far too long.
It’s time for the tide to turn and the power of the world to shift in our favor.
He glances down and then looks away, a light tinge on his cheeks. Is he blushing? I didn’t even know they could. Will he need an extra drink for wasting blood like that?
“Do you have to walk around with your dick hanging out?” he grumbles, a sneer on his lips.
“You see any clothes around here?” Does he want me to pop around the corner to the nearest tailor for a new pair of pants and a shirt?
This isn’t some fairy tale where my clothes magically return after a shift.
If I’m wearing them, they get destroyed in the process.
The only way to fix my current predicament is by getting out of here.
“Never seen a dick before?” I taunt. “Bet you’ve never had sex in your whole pathetic life.” Vampyres are only good for one thing, and that’s dying.
Nicolai’s jaw twitches. His heart rate has slowed down, though. Poking at him is distracting him enough to calm his jittering nerves. I prefer doing it this way instead of being nice to the asshole.
“The point I was trying to make is that I’m twice the size you are; if I can fit, you can fit. Now keep walking and stop wasting my time.”
His gaze sweeps over my body again, lingering on where my shoulders are firmly pressed wall-to-wall. If I can get through, then he’ll have no trouble. I’ll have to turn back long before he will. So long as he stays with me, there’s no risk of him being trapped anywhere here.
He freezes, listening. I tense, reacting to his sudden stillness.
“Do you hear that?”
I tilt my head, quieting my breathing so I can listen. There’s nothing except his still slightly choppy breathing. “No. Nice try, though.” A heavy hand between his shoulders gets him moving again.
Nicolai hisses at me, but his feet carry him forward, so I let it go.
Finally, finally, we come out of the tight space and into a much more pleasurable corridor.
This one is fancier than the other ones, which doesn’t say much.
There are at least hints of murky gold underneath the decay.
There are multiple rotted wooden doors. When I try to open the first one, it creaks and then crashes to the floor.
“That’s one way to get inside.”
Nicolai rolls his eyes at my grin and gracefully steps over the collapsed door.
It’s hard to tell what room it is, given how dark it is even with my enhanced vision.
There’s a torch sconce on the wall and what looks like a small clasp beside it.
Huh. What is that for? Pulling it open reveals a small hidden alcove that holds…
a packet of matches. Well, that’s fucking clever. Gotta tell my brother about that.
I pocket the matches after I light the torch. Could come in handy later. Pulling the light off the wall helps illuminate the room.
It’s a bedroom. We must be in the living area. It’s a surprisingly comfortable set up. Wooden bed in the corner, with a fluffy blanket and thick pillows. A chest of drawers and a tiny kitchenette, with gleaming marble countertops. The inside has fared better than the entrance, that’s for sure.
There are appliances everywhere that are rare above the surface.
Electronics that only the wealthiest vampyre families would have.
So much was lost to the war that plunged us all back to the dark ages.
Long enough ago that I wasn’t alive for it, and those that are have only vague recollections of it.
The lycans have done their best to preserve as much knowledge as we can, made harder by how hard the vampyres hunt us, but I’ve never seen items like this in the flesh.
I make a beeline to the neat desk that holds a single sleek gray laptop in the middle of it.
Undamaged by time, like everything in here just froze one day.
While I examine it, I keep Nicolai’s chains firmly wrapped around my wrist and watch him out of the corner of my eye for any sudden movements.
If he tries anything, I’ll put him down, with prejudice.
Not that he could do much, all trussed up like a turkey.
Nicolai scowls at me as if wishing he could set me on fire with his eyes. They might think they’re all powerful, but that’s one talent vampyres don’t possess.
Opening the laptop lid and pressing the power button does exactly what I expect: nothing. Of course, the thing is dead after all these years. Even if I knew where the charging cord was, I doubt electricity in this place still works.
I smirk at Nicolai. “No coffin?”
“What century are you living in?” he retorts. He twists, pulling his arms, lightly testing the reach of the chains. He can test them all he wants; I’m not letting him go.
“You all like damp, dark, depressing places, right? I bet this is a prized holiday location for you.”
Nicolai bares his teeth, his fangs long and gleaming under the flickering flame. “As opposed to the hovels you hide in?” He yanks on the chains again, and I tighten my hold, pulling him backward with a yank that makes him stumble right into me. Only my hand on his upper arm stops him from falling.
He mutters something under his breath—unflattering, I’m sure—and then pushes away from me. He awkwardly opens the top drawer of the dresser by bending his arms back to reach. I could help, but why would I when it’s more fun to watch?
If the vampyres want to think we live in hovels, cowering in fear of their reach, to make themselves feel better, I don’t care.
They’re welcome to their delusions. It helps feed into the idea that we have no real strength to defy them.
It keeps them complacent and not ready for what’s coming.
Our rebellion has more of a foothold than they could ever imagine.
The highest-level vampyres hide away in that fortress they call a castle, deep in the forest of Transylvania, and think that it will keep them protected forever.
It won’t.
My brothers and I are coming for every single one of them. Rían will lead the charge, and their perfect world will come crashing down around them in a swath of blood and death.
“Here, put these on,” Nicolai snaps. Turning away from me, he steps backward and shoves a pair of sweatpants into my chest so hard that my breath leaves me in a punch. “It’s your lucky day; you’re huge, but these should fit.”
I’m taking that “huge” remark as a compliment, regardless of how he meant it. “Gentle with the goods.” How the hell are there wearable clothes in this place?
Nicolai twists to glare at me, mouth flat. “Is there a ‘fragile’ sticker on you somewhere?”
“Stamped right on my ass.” The pants might be tighter than I’d usually wear, but they’ll fit.
There are holes in them, and the material is worn thin—from time or wear, I don’t know.
They should still cover the important parts.
They smell a little musty but not unclean exactly.
Good enough to wear. Wouldn’t want to make the vampyre uncomfortable or anything. “Prude” is fucking right.
“Good thing I’m not going anywhere near your ass.”
I deliberately take my time shifting my dick in the pants to get it into a position that won’t irritate the fuck out of me.
Nicolai tracks all of it. A predator unwilling to look away from his prey?
Or is there going to be more blushing? In this case, I might not be opposed to being the prey.
At least long enough to catch my own in a trap.
I might even enjoy playing with this vampyre before I kill him.
To add someone like Nicolai Vasilciu to my kill count will be a boon worth bragging over.
The vampyre in question tries his luck with the chains again. I curl a portion of them around my elbow and draw them tighter around his middle until he grunts. He’s not in control here, no matter how much he wants to run his pretty mouth or test my patience.
We spend the next hour walking through the catacombs. All the nearby rooms are set up exactly the same, and we don’t find anything more interesting. Just a bunch of rooms for sleeping and a complete lack of personal items. Or a way out. Is there even a way out? Fuck, there better be.
Nicolai stops walking abruptly, and I run into his back. He shifts his shoulder against my chest, head down, with his eyes narrowed and lips in a frown. He’s not paying any attention to me or our proximity.
The thump thump thump of the vampyre’s heart is loud in my ears, and it’s picking up again. Scared of something else? It’s wide enough here, isn’t it?
“Forgotten how to walk?”
“Be quiet.”
Fucking excuse me? “Why don’t you go f—”
“Shh.” He places his forehead on the stone wall. “Can you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Not this again. Being stuck in here with a vampyre is bad enough, but a crazy one? No, thanks. Hard pass.
“There’s something in the walls.”
He doesn’t expect me to believe that, does he? I open my mouth to tell him to move or lose a limb, when my heart seizes at a sound that isn’t either of us.
I can hear it now.
There’s something in the walls.