Chapter 8
Lance slipped through the forest. The wolves wouldn’t start prowling the grounds until midnight. He hurried to his car, hoping this would be his last time inside the veil. He drove quickly, parking in the appointed dark alley. He checked his watch. Where was he? He turned as a dark shape materialized from the shadows, huge even in human form. He looked like a giant biker with his leather pants, wild hair, and rugged face.
“Master, you’re here.”
“Is everything ready?”
“Yes. Tristol left the fortress. You have two days.”
Voltar folded his massive arms over his chest. “Lead me to the warrior.”
“Tonight? The wolves will start moving soon.” And he didn’t want to be there. He’d heard Tristol order Joseph to have him killed. But he was just as afraid of the demon standing in front of him.
“Then we had better hurry. I want my warrior, and I want that hybrid dead.”
Lance didn’t mention the woman. He didn’t want Voltar to know she’d followed him. And by now she should be dead.
* * *
The prisoner couldn’t recall ever feelinga bed so soft. He must be dreaming. A soft cry woke him, and he turned to find Anna lying beside him. They weren’t in the dungeon. They were in a bed. A big bed. He was naked. Anna’s hand was knotted in the covers, her cheeks wet with tears. Had he ravished her again? His stomach knotted. He lifted the edge of the sheet and saw her bare shoulder. She was naked as well. Where the devil were their clothes? The last thing he remembered was holding her after the guard threw her back in the cell. He must have given them another injection. Damn the things.
He wanted to touch her, but he was afraid he’d frighten her. He still felt shame at the memory of what he’d done. Knowing he’d probably saved her from death, or worse, didn’t soothe his guilt. His body had taken pleasure from the act. What kind of depraved soul was he? Was that why she cried? Reliving what he’d done or what had happened after they’d taken her away? She wasn’t the crying sort. He’d known brave women—his mother was brave—but this one acted with boldness and strength he’d never seen in a woman.
His mother? He had a quick glimpse of her, but it vanished like a wisp of smoke.
Anna let out a small sob. “Don’t,” she whimpered.
He moved a bit closer and stroked her cheek. What had they done to her? Or was it his shameful behavior that she dreamed of? He must be the reason for at least some of her tears, and he reckoned that made it his duty to soothe her. He bunched the covers between them, creating a wall of sorts, and then held her closer, stroking her back through the bedding. He would get her out of this place and back to the cousins and friends she’d told him about. To safety. That would be his mission from here on out. To right the wrong he’d done to her. How can you undo something like that, you bloody bastard?
He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud, but Anna jerked awake and bolted from the bed.
The prisoner’s jaw dropped. Anna looked down and gasped, then put her hands over her female parts. Damnation. Before he could drag his eyes away, she jumped back underneath the covers as quickly as she’d left them. “I’m naked.”
“Aye.” And the sight would forever be burned into his mind.
She looked at his bare chest. “You too?”
“Someone took our clothes.”
“And moved us,” Anna said, looking around the room. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know. The last thing I remember is the guard bringing you back to the cell. You were unconscious. Are you hurt?”
She frowned. “I don’t think so.”
“What did they do to you?”
The two delicate lines deepened in her forehead. “I don’t know. I remember the guard opening a door. It was dark inside. I saw someone... I remember a roar.” Her eyes grew wide, the color startlingly beautiful. “The hybrid. I think the hybrid was there.”
His guts knotted. The hybrid. The one they’d referred to as a monster. In a place with a breeding plan? What had they done to her? She hadn’t been tortured. That quick glance at her body had told him she was uninjured. On the outside anyway, but some injuries didn’t easily show. “You don’t recall anything?”
She shook her head.
He recalled how bravely she’d fought against the guard. Something must have happened. Why take her away and do nothing to her? Had she blocked it? “Perhaps they’ve taken your memories too.”
“Lance gave me a shot. The drug must have made me forget what happened. But I do remember Tristol.” She looked like she wanted to jump up. “I can’t believe he’s here, right under our noses. I have to go back and warn the clan.”
“You know him?” The odd thing was that he felt he did too.
“Every warrior knows Tristol. He’s a demon. A powerful demon.”
“Demon.” As he repeated the word, a memory struck him so hard he felt as if he’d been kicked in the head by a horse.
The man’s skin thickened, the bones lengthening, not human. Then a child screamed. He knew the child. Was it his?
He rubbed his head.
“What’s wrong?” Anna asked.
“My head hurts. What do you mean, a demon?” More flashes. Ugly faces and sharp teeth.
“Humans aren’t the only creatures on this earth that walk upright. Demons disguise themselves as humans, but they’re trying to destroy us. That’s where warriors come in. They protect humans by destroying demons or locking them away. And I’m almost certain you’re a warrior.” Anna touched his chest, running her fingers over the marks. They were tingling. “I think these are battle marks. You still don’t remember getting them?”
His hand immediately went to his chest, and his fingers brushed against hers. “No.”
“Did you have a talisman, a necklace, when you came here?”
His hand moved higher. He didn’t feel anything, but he imagined something warm there. Something metal. “I think so. I’m not certain.”
“You touched your chest when I mentioned a talisman. I think your brain is trying to remember.”
“You think I’m a warrior?”
“Everything about you says you are. These marks on your chest. I’m sure they’re battle marks. Each warrior is marked according to his weaknesses and strengths. Most males have them on their chest. Mine are on my lower back.”
“Yours? You’re a warrior? A lass?” Despite his throbbing head, he gave her an indulgent smile. The trauma of this place must have gotten to her.
Anna’s shoulders straightened. Her beautiful eyes were fierce. “I’m a warrior.”
“You’re not a prostitute?”
“What?” She gaped at him.
“Your dress was so short…”
“No, I’m not a prostitute.” If she spoke the truth, and he believed she did, she should have been more offended. As it was, she looked intrigued, as if she’d solved a mystery. “I’m from Clan Connor.”
He struggled to catch his next breath. “Connor?”
Her eyes narrowed, making them look like slivers of jewels. “Do you know the name?”
“I don’t know.” But his head felt like it would split down the middle. “How could I be one of these warriors and not remember such a thing?”
“It’s amazing that you’re not a vegetable after all they’ve done to you. All the drugs and beatings. After we get out of here, I’ll take you to a doctor I know. Maybe that’ll help us find out who you are.”
It gave him a warm feeling that she said us after all she’d suffered at his hands. “I’m sorry for everything.”
“If you apologize again, I’m going to hit you.” While he was trying to figure out what to say, she looked around the room. “We have to figure out where we are.”
“It’s a sight better than that dungeon. It looks like a tower.” The room was round, with stone floors covered by plush rugs that must have cost a fortune. The bed they were in was a four-poster. The comforter was a rich brocade like he’d seen once in a palace in India. India? Another memory? Tapestries and sconces hung on the walls, while ornate tables and chairs decorated the room.
“I don’t care if it’s the White House. I want away from this place,” Anna said.
He didn’t know what a white house was, but he was all for leaving. “Got any fig leaves? I’ve broken out of towers before, but never naked—damnation, I think I remembered something else. A castle... and screams.” He was so encouraged by the glimpse, he started to get up, but stopped when he saw her eyes widen. “We can’t stay under the covers forever. There’s got to be something in here we can wear. I’m going to see what I can find.” He slipped out of bed, holding a pillow over his groin. He walked around the room, looking for anything that might be used for clothing, taking care to keep his arse turned away from her. He must have failed, because in a minute she cleared her throat.
“You need another pillow,” she said.
He glanced back at her and saw her quickly look away. “Or you could just close your eyes.”
She snorted.
Did all female warriors make such rude sounds? Though she looked very bonny when she did it. He was relieved she was acting more like the brave, bold woman he’d seen when she’d first arrived. Not the one who’d looked haunted and broken. He didn’t particularly like bold women, but it was the lesser of two evils. “Why would they move us from the dungeon to a tower?” He opened another drawer and found it empty. “And why did they take our clothes?”
“Remember what the guard said about breeding? Tristol mentioned testing. Maybe you passed the tests.”
“You think Tristol is planning to breed me to his demons? Like hell he will. I’ll rip his bonny head off, demon or no.”
“I doubt that.”
He glared at her. “You think I can’t do it?” How could he protect a woman who had no confidence in him? Hell, how could he protect a woman when he didn’t know his own name?
She shrugged one shoulder, a lovely shoulder. “It wasn’t an insult. Tristol is a demon of old.”
“What does that mean?”
“The ancient demons are incredibly powerful. They have to be assigned.”
“Assigned?” The headache was coming back.
“They have to be matched to a warrior’s skills and strength.”
“Assigned or not, I won’t sit here and let him breed me like a stallion.” And what about her? Was she part of this breeding plan too? If this Tristol didn’t have some use for her, he would have killed her. I remember a roar, she’d said. The only roar he’d heard had come from the hybrid. A male.
He saw a door and opened it, thinking it might be a closet. “Bollocks. What’s that?”
“Have you found a way out?” Anna grabbed a pillow from the bed and joined him. “It’s only a bathroom.”
“Bathroom?” There was a tub, but it was large enough for a small family. It had basins and a pot like the one in his cell, and another contraption enclosed in glass. It was strange-looking, but he had a feeling he’d seen one before. He tried to focus on the strange room and not all the bare skin sticking out from behind the pillow next to him. He stopped and turned to the tower door. “Someone’s coming.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
A moment later, a voice ordered, “Open it.”
The prisoner grabbed a heavy vase from a table and stepped in front of Anna.
“The master will be angry,” another voice said.
“I’ll do it myself.” The door flew open, and a man stepped in. He was dressed in black and had long blond hair and pale blue eyes.
Anna softly gasped and moved out from behind him. The woman wasn’t easy to protect.
Another man rushed into the room, holding a box. Tristol’s manservant. He’d seen him a few times before. “Are you a fool?” he asked the blond, without his usual quiet dignity. “Someone might have seen you. You know he has this section secured.”
The stranger came closer, his movements smooth, as if he slid across an icy loch. “I’ll be damned.” His blue eyes moved intently over the prisoner, from the pillow covering his groin to his hair. “The resemblance is amazing. I would believe it myself, but I saw him recently, and he didn’t have this.” He reached out and tugged the prisoner’s beard.
The prisoner reacted so quickly it surprised even him. He grabbed the pale-haired man’s arm, gripping it hard. The man hissed, revealing broken fangs. The prisoner jumped back in alarm.
“Who are you?” the blond man asked.
The prisoner didn’t answer.
“Who wants to know?” Anna asked.
The blond frowned and then looked at Anna. “So this is why no one can find you. How did she get here?” he asked the servant.
“Apparently she sneaked inside the dungeon.”
The pale-haired man looked around the room. “This is as good a place as any to keep them while I unravel this mystery.” He moved toward the door. “Say nothing to Tristol. I don’t know who he has here, but it’s not the Mighty Faelan. I’ll try to capture the real warrior before Tristol realizes he’s been duped. Otherwise, all our lives are going to be hell.”
He breezed out of the room, and the servant turned to the prisoner. His face seemed to ripple as he studied him. “This isn’t good,” he said, his expression blank now. “I’ll go and get food.”
“I’d rather have answers and some bloody clothes,” the prisoner said.
“The master has new clothes for you as well.” He set the box down. “I believe you’ll find everything here.”
“Did you see his teeth?” the prisoner asked when the servant had gone.
“Fangs. He’s a vampire.”
“Vampires don’t exist.” Not anymore. He frowned. Was that another memory?
“I wish, but I’m afraid they do.”
“Are you certain?”
“I killed one on the way here. And unless I’m mistaken, this blond is the one Ronan’s been following.”
“Damnation.”
Anna tilted her head and looked at him. “You say that a lot.”
“My apologies. I shouldn’t curse in front of a woman.”
“I don’t mind. It just reminds me of someone else.”
“This Ronan who’s following the vampire?” She seemed overly familiar with too many men.
“No, not Ronan.”
“Who is he?”
“A warrior. We’re part of the same clan. He’s obsessed with the blond vampire. He got away from Ronan when we were fighting Druan.”
“Druan. I think I know that name.”
“I’m not surprised. Every warrior knows his name. He’s powerful. Or he was.”
“Like Tristol?”
“Yes. I have to let the clan know that Tristol is here and that he’s working with vampires.”
“Then let’s get dressed. I don’t feel like fighting in nothing but my skin.”
Anna took her clothes into the bathroom while he shaved and dressed in the clean kilt and shirt the man had left. When she reappeared, his mouth dropped. Her dress was indecent, cut up to her thighs and down between her breasts.
* * *
“You can stop gaping,”Anna said.
The prisoner averted his gaze. “Surely you don’t plan to wear that.”
“It’s this or the sheet.”
He looked at the bed, as if considering it. “How can you even climb in that garment?”
“I’ve climbed in worse.”
“He’s coming back.”
The servant entered the room and set down a tray of food, better than what they’d been fed in the dungeon. Anna’s stomach growled, but there was no time to eat. As soon as he turned to go, Anna grabbed one of the cloth napkins and put it behind her back. Just before the door closed, she darted forward and stuck the folded napkin between the casing and the lock. The prisoner looked impressed.
“The oldest trick in the world,” she said. She put her ear to the door. “It’s quiet.”
“Wait a moment until we’re certain he’s gone.”
“We can’t wait long. He’ll be back.” She didn’t want either of them here for whatever Tristol had planned. Flashes of a dark room and mournful cries stirred in her mind, but she couldn’t sharpen the image. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. “We need weapons. I wish I had my talisman.”
His hand touched his chest. “I do know that word.”
“Talismans are a warrior’s weapon against demons, though they don’t work on vampires. The only way to kill the creatures is to cut off their heads or pierce their hearts. We need a sword or something sharp.”
The prisoner grabbed one of the posts from the antique bed and broke it off, holding up the jagged edge. He grinned and gave it a couple of practice swings, as a warrior might with a sword. “Like this?”
“Good thinking.” Anna broke off another post, and the prisoner emptied a pillowcase and put the food and bottled water inside. Armed with their crude weapons, they slowly opened the door. The structure they were in was round with stairs circling the outer perimeter. “We’re definitely in a tower.”
“That should make it easier to determine where we are,” the prisoner said.
“I don’t know. This fortress had several towers. Guess we’re going down. We’ll have to risk running into someone.”
“Towers sometimes have a door leading to the roof. Perhaps we can climb down and avoid getting caught.”
He was remembering more about his past. She had her own theory, but this wasn’t the right time to spring it on him. “If I remember the size of this fortress, we’d have a long drop if we fell. But it’s worth a try.”
They checked the small area but didn’t find any other way out.
“I guess we take the stairs,” he said.
They crept down the narrow staircase, armed with their bedpost stakes and the pillowcase of food that the prisoner held in his other hand. “We should be nearing the bottom,” Anna said after they had descended dozens of steps.
“I hear voices.”
Anna didn’t, and she had excellent hearing. His must be exceptional. “We’ll have to be very quiet from here on out.”
“I’m not as light of foot as my brothers,” he whispered. “They say I stomp like a bull—” He stopped and frowned.
“Your memory is definitely coming back.” If his brothers were quieter than he was, then they were damned good.
They continued without speaking and soon came to a door. The voices were louder. “We must be on the second or third floor,” Anna whispered. “I’ll check.” The door was unlocked. She eased it open and saw a large room filled with people. Before she could move, a woman walked by. There wasn’t even time to shut the door. Anna froze, but the woman moved on without a glance. A man followed behind her, pausing briefly to sniff the air as he passed.
“They can’t see us,” the prisoner whispered after they were gone.
“It’s cloaked,” Anna whispered. “He’s cloaked the tower, just like he did the fortress.”
“What do you mean?”
“He puts a cloak around things, like a magic veil, so it’s invisible from the outside. This entire fortress is cloaked. No one would know it’s here unless they ran into it. That’s how I found it. Problem is, we don’t know how far the cloak extends around the tower, what its inner dimensions are, and how it works. Once we step into this room, they might see us.”
“And just because they can’t see us doesn’t mean they can’t hear us,” he said. A second man approached. He slowed and sniffed. Anna glimpsed his fangs. She stood still, not breathing. The vampire frowned and continued walking.
“Vampires,” she whispered. “This sucks. They have a really strong sense of smell.” At least that’s what she’d gathered from her brief experience with the creatures. “We need to test the cloak. I’ll step out and see—”
The prisoner pulled her back. “I’ll do it.” He scowled. First, he extended his bedpost stake out a couple of feet. No one in the room seemed to notice. “I think if we stay close to the wall, we’ll be all right. Follow me.”
The prisoner led the way. Backs against the wall, they crept past the vampires lounging in the richly furnished room. The lighting was low, but Anna could see that some of the creatures were elegant, lean and pale, some Goth. Several couples were drinking in dark corners. Not from glasses, but with fangs sunk into throats as bodies writhed in passion.
“Bloody hell,” the prisoner whispered just above his breath. A gaunt-looking man walked by, his eyes ringed with red. He stopped and turned, looking straight at Anna through the veiled air. His nostrils flared, and he stepped closer.
Anna froze, her hand tightening on the bedpost stake. She felt the prisoner beside her, but she didn’t dare move or glance at him. Anna closed her eyes and focused on the prisoner’s scent and not the bloodlust in the vampire’s eyes.
The vampire stepped closer. His lips pulled back, baring sharp fangs. Anna looked deep into his red-rimmed eyes as he stared right at her. The prisoner’s fingers tightened on his stake, and he lowered the pillowcase of food to the ground. If the vampire took one more step, Anna knew the prisoner would attack.
“Don’t,” she mouthed, feeling for his hand. Across the room, a woman glanced in their direction. Smiling, she called out to the man. He sniffed again, shook his head, and walked to the woman. She lifted her hair, and the vampire sank his teeth into her neck. Her body went stiff, either with pleasure or pain.
“We’ve got to get out of this room or go back to the tower,” the prisoner whispered.
“I’m not going back.”
He pointed to an elaborate door at one end of the room. “Let’s try there. It seems to be the only door that’s close to the wall.” He led her past another male and female vampire. Anna looked back and didn’t see the prisoner had stopped to avoid the servant. She plowed into his back causing both of them to stumble. Her stake flew out of her hand and landed at the feet of the red-eyed vampire. He raised his head, his fangs red with blood. The other occupants of the room looked at the bedpost and then lifted red-tinged eyes to Anna and the prisoner.