Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
Cally strained against the handcuffs that bound her wrists behind her chair, testing their strength without making it obvious. The cuffs bit into her skin, but she could snap the chain given time. Yet what good would it do her?
Darian paced before her, using the space of the room to let off his negative energy. Just him, her chair, and a room with white-painted concrete walls and floor.
The Order does stark really well. That seemed like an insight into their mindset, and Cally almost smiled.
She knew she was dissociating. Two hours in isolation, an hour of interrogation, and he wasn’t constrained by the same rules as the Boston police. And what were they doing to Eve for all that time?
Cally reached again for her bond to Antoine, wishing he knew where she was, that he would come. But he didn’t; he wouldn’t. He thought she was ‘visiting her dad’. He had no reason to even check their bond.
The back of Darian’s hand cracked against her cheek, snapping her head to the side. “Don’t you zone out on me, you harlot.”
Her face felt like one big bruise, her healing unable to keep up with the frequent manifestations of Darian’s anger.
But what was there to answer? He’d asked few questions; he already knew what he needed.
The rest of the time he’d frothed with Order fervor, spewing bile at her ‘betrayal’.
Yes, she’d zoned out. It was worse than Sunday School.
She ran her tongue around her teeth and spat blood onto the white floor, now pink near her chair, and let her head slump forward. Glaring at him didn’t work; she’d tried that. She got hit again.
“Answer me!”
She couldn’t. She hadn’t heard the question.
His hand clenched in her hair, pulling her head back, his face only a few inches away.
Eyes glittering with fanaticism, jaw clenched in anger.
No hint of his usual affable charm. It was so tempting to headbutt him; he still didn’t know how much stronger she was than he.
But locked in a room deep in the Order’s bunker, armed guards everywhere?
It wasn’t an escape plan. She wouldn’t get far.
“How many vampires?” he demanded, biting off each word, his tone making it clear that he had repeated the question.
It wasn’t enough context for an answer. “Sorry, my head’s ringing,” she said, the words slurring through swollen lips. “How many vampires what?”
His face darkened, like he thought she was goading him. He held her hair with one hand, slapping her back and forth with the other in time with each word: “How many vampires do you know?”
“Just Antoine,” she gasped through the sting. Quite a few. Gabe. Belle. Tobias, Roberto. The one that had stopped her in the Curia’s house—had Antoine called him Matteo? Minh. Hell, that was a lot of vampires. “And Nico.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Perceptive. “It’s true. It’s all I know.” I don’t really know Gabe. Met him a few times. Belle? Still mostly an enigma.
“What is Nico to you?”
He’d already asked that. “The vampire that killed my mother.” Except he didn’t. So who did? Had it really been Antoine, all this time, despite his assertions to the contrary?
The thought brought tears to her eyes, and a muscle twitched in Darian’s jaw as he saw them.
No. I refuse to believe that. He told me he didn’t, and I trust him.
“How can you sit there crying over the death of your mother at the hands of a vampire, and then ally with them?” He jerked her head back, releasing his grip. “You disgust me.”
I mean… fair. Vampires were vampires, after all. But was Antoine any worse than Darian? We all have blood on our hands.
Darian took a step back, staring at her like she was something on the sole of his shoe. “You’re nothing to me anymore. Just an asset.”
Does that mean no more date invitations? What a relief.
“You’re going to work for the Order. You’re going to use your boyfriend, and you’re going to—” He paused, a deeper scowl cutting across his face. “Wait. Are you sleeping with him? Are you fucking the vampires?”
Why did it always come down to that? Just because I’m a woman, I’m automatically sleeping with him? Well, I am, but…
He stepped forward, fist clenched and raised, and Cally braced herself. But Darian turned away at the last moment, exhaling sharply.
When at last he’d regained some semblance of control, he faced her again, arms folded across his chest. “You will turn Anthony Du Pont—Antoine—into a weapon for the Order. You will use him to kill every other vampire in Boston.” He smiled coldly. “I’ll give you a list.”
She swallowed some blood and tried not to gag on it. “What makes you think Antoine would work for you?”
“You’ll make him.”
“How, exactly? He’s a vampire, I can’t make him do anything.” And I wouldn’t, even if I could.
“You’re a witch.” He said the word like it was a curse. “Just bond him.” He laughed cruelly. “What am I saying? You’re his chattel. You’ve bound him already.”
“What do you mean?” Cally asked, genuine fear settling within her for the first time since she’d entered the room.
“Don’t you know?” he taunted. “Witches bind vampires. As soon as he drank of your blood, you had power over him.”
“No.” Cally shook her head. This was Order lies, nothing more. “You’re wrong.”
“You think so, do you?” He crouched before her, bringing his eyes down to hers. “Don’t you know how vampires were created?”
She did. Belle had once told her. It was a curse that had—
“A witch once tried to control a man,” Darian continued, his tone bitter. “The spell worked—oh it worked, all right. But the result?” His lip curled. “I thought you would be different. But you’re just the same as the rest, aren’t you?”
Cally felt a sudden chill, far deeper than merely the cold of the room. “What are you saying?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He straightened, crossed his arms and sneered down at her.
“In woman’s attempt to control man, witches gave birth to vampires.
Your kind is responsible for this plague on all of us.
” His hand lashed out, catching her bruised cheek with his knuckles, a blow of pure malice, as if he were punishing all witches through her.
“I had intended to use your blood on Nico to the same end, but you already have a vampire bound to you, don’t you? ”
She squeezed her eyes shut, her head turned to the side, the pain making it hard to think.
It didn’t work like that. If it did, Antoine would already be smashing down their front door.
She was grateful he wasn’t; there were too many Order soldiers here, even for Antoine.
But she had no power over him. Darian was wrong, and she exhaled slowly in relief.
For a moment, she’d believed him. She’d thought—
“It’ll take time for the bond to develop, of course.
” The certainty in his voice turned her stomach.
“I don’t know how long. But it will have already started, witch.
Once your power over him grows and he’s your slave, we will have a weapon.
” The zeal had returned to his eyes. “Boston first, then the rest of the cursed vampires in this country. All will fall to the Order.”
He means it. Does the bond really work like that? Why didn’t Belle tell me?
But of course. She wouldn’t want me to know.
And Antoine. What would this do to him, if he were to find out?
It would destroy him. First Belle, treating him like a pet. Then her, holding a bond over him that would enslave him.
But the solution was simple. She’d never tell him, and she’d never use the bond to force him to do anything.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, leaning into the half-truth for her conviction. “I can’t make him do anything.”
Darian leaned forward until his face was over hers. “Then learn,” he hissed. “I’ll give you a month to show me results. If you don’t, I’ll kill your dad. I’ll kill Eve. Not quickly, either. I’ll send you pieces of them.”
She stared at him. “Listen to yourself. You call vampires monsters, but you’re just as bad as any of them.”
His hand cracked into her face, and she didn’t roll with it quickly enough. Pain lanced through her cheek, a flare of agony that made her certain something had broken. It took all her willpower not to glare at him, and she spat another mouthful of blood onto the floor.
Darian stepped back to keep his shoes clean.
“I thought I would struggle to do what needs to be done,” he said, half to himself.
“But you make it easy for me, you vampire’s harlot.
” He nodded, as if convincing himself. “Sacrifice is the only language worth speaking when survival is on the line. One or two innocents to save hundreds—assuming your friend Eve is an innocent. Is she a witch too? Is she the whore of a vampire like you?”
“She helps me with my magic!” Cally cried. “I need her!”
“Not for this you don’t. Bond the vampire, fuck the vampire—that’s a different kind of magic.” His fist clenched in her hair, tilting her head back. “Do we have an understanding?”
“…Yes.” What else could she say?
“One month to show me results. After that, your dad and your friend start losing pieces. Am I clear?”
“Yes.” Her stomach filled with nausea, and not just from the blood she’d swallowed.
Was Darian right? Could she force Antoine?
How she wished she’d told him the truth from the beginning. Never brought Eve with her, never gone after Nico, never walked into his cell.
“As an added incentive, we’re keeping Eve here, and your dad just forfeited his 401k. We’ll give it back when you’ve delivered five dead vampires.” He jerked her head as he released it. “Now, do I have your… commitment?”
“Yes.” The word came out as a whisper, yet was no less damning for that.
Darian walked to the door and banged it twice. It opened with the grating of metal on metal. “We’re done. Bring her.”
The vampires were at war, and Antoine wanted his revenge. Was that justification enough? Could she somehow… lean on him, without making it an order? Give Darian the results he wanted, without forcing Antoine to do something he wasn’t going to do anyway?
She was hardly aware of the two Order soldiers who lifted her from her chair, checked her cuffs, and dragged her out of the room.
“I’m returning to upstate New York,” Darian told another man. “I will report this development to the Primus Vigil in person.”
“Yes, Sentinel.”
“Wait,” Darian ordered, and Cally’s escort halted.
“Ensure she’s hooded on the way out, and give her back her phone when you drop her off.
” He addressed Cally, his eyes hard. “Don’t break it, this time.
If you fail to give me updates when I demand them, expect packages to start arriving at Fisher Hill. Small ones. The size of a finger.”
Cally shuddered and lowered her eyes. I’m so sorry, Eve.
“Get her out of here. Take her back to her vampire lover.”