Chapter 48
Lock
My chest felt tight when I woke, which struck me as odd immediately. If I was regaining consciousness, I should’ve been fully healed. On top of that, I was tired- groggy, even. What the fuck was going on?
Opening my eyes, I found ugly white walls. I was pretty sure they were eggshell. That was a poor design choice, which meant this was definitely not somewhere I was meant to be. The aesthetic in my buildings was always fucking incredible. Orgasmic, as Sam might say.
Waking up in an unfamiliar place. Strange, not-quite-right feeling. Thirsty as fuck. The absence of my mate settling in my chest. Yeah, I’d venture to say I’d been snatched. God damnit. That was not good for my reputation.
Getting to my feet, I was surprised to find I wasn’t restrained. Most things wouldn’t hold me, but if someone was going to put in the effort to kidnap me, they should’ve invested in something strong enough to contain a warship.
The room had a four-poster queen bed and the standard bedroom furniture along the walls. There were no windows, which was either an architectural flaw or a stupid design choice.
If the door was unlocked, I’d sing karaoke all night for Sam…
Well, fuck my life. If I never told her about the little bet with myself, it didn’t count.
Stepping into the hall, I glanced both ways. To the left, there was one more door before it ended with a plain wall. I found a bathroom there, so I headed in the other direction. There was a set of double doors at the end of the hall, which had to mean there was something good there.
I pushed them both open and found myself in an industrial-style kitchen. Well, sort of. It was a huge room with a stainless steel island, restaurant quality appliances, and what looked like a walk-in freezer. The strange part was the literal row of cells on the other wall, complete with blubbering prisoners in various stages of distress.
It looked like there were three sections surrounded by some sort of glass and housing a few people each. Humans, from the smell of things and the sounds of hearts that began to race when I walked in. Some were looking directly at me, others avoided me entirely. I narrowed my eyes and let my canines descend, effectively forcing the last of them to turn away. Maybe they’d piss themselves if I went banging on the glass like they were fish.
I was incredibly hungry and I could probably drain every last one of them, but I had to figure out what was going on first. It could be a trap. Their blood could be tainted, for all I knew. If I’d been captured by the most logical party, they were already known to dabble in drugs that had less than ideal side effects for my kind. The last thing I wanted was to acquire some fucked up vampire version of AIDS.
Turning in a circle, I tried to determine if there were cameras. It didn’t make sense that they’d let me wander around on my own. If they knew me at all, they would not give me such a long leash. I was prone to starting shit, causing problems. Either someone had fucked up or I was missing something.
A sound from inside the freezer made me dart to the other end of the room. I pressed myself flat against the side of the fridge, listening. The door opened and I smelled a human, so I appeared in front of them and latched onto their throat.
The man shouted in alarm, clutching at my hand. His nails dug into my skin, drawing blood.
“Where are we?” I demanded.
“T-the house.’
“How fucking informative. I’ll give you one more chance, imbecile.”
“You’re Hemlock,” he rasped. “I have blood for you.”
“Well, you’re right on one account.”
Wrenching his head to the side, I bit into his neck. He kicked out at me, letting out a loud yell as I drank from him. It was dramatic, even for someone that was about to die. Eventually, his movements grew weak and he went silent.
Dropping his limp body to the ground, I glanced at the glass barriers. Nobody was looking at me anymore and I could smell the intensity of their fear. I felt stronger from the blood, but I could go for a few more.
I took a step toward the human prisoners just before the lights went out. They all gasped, scrambling toward the backs of their cells. Of course, I could see clearly, so I wasn’t sure what the point might be.
Chuckling, I leaned back against the island and put my hands in my pockets. “If we’re playing some childish version of Saw, I’m not interested. More than likely, I will take over and you’ll be at my mercy.”
“That’s hardly a possibility.”
“Vas,” I said, drawing out the name. “You came crawling back to your master, I see.”
“Where else should I be, Hemlock?”
“Free. Dead. I don’t particularly care.”
“How has freedom treated you in the past one hundred years?”
Not moving my body, I let my eyes roam the dark space. Dissolving a small bit of myself into smoke, I tracked the vibrations in the air. He was moving things around- things I couldn’t see. I wasn’t sure exactly how his ability worked, but I knew that I didn’t want to fall prey to it again. I valued my limbs, especially now that I was alone in enemy territory.
“Tell me,” I called. “Where are we?”
“Home. At least, one of them.”
“Are you gypsies?”
“I’m sure there is another question you have a burning desire to ask.”
“You’re right. It’s been tapping at my brain stem since I last saw you. Do you have a cock in your pants? I’m positive you’re a man, but with that pretty face, it could go either way.”
I dropped into a crouch, letting the invisible force meet empty space.
“Touchy,” I drawled, putting one hand on the floor as I continued to move my gaze throughout the room. “If you wanted me dead, it would have been easier while I was unconscious. You didn’t even tie me up. It would have made for a much more interesting evening, though I’d prefer to be wined and dined first.”
Vas seemed to drop out of thin air, landing lightly on his feet in front of me. I straightened, crossing my arms over my chest as I took him in.
He was wearing black cargo pants tucked into chunky boots. His t-shirt rode up just above his pelvic bone when he moved, showing just how lean he was. It seemed he was prone to dramatics just like the fata del fuoco, judging by the rings on most of his fingers and the mask that covered his nose and mouth. It drew more attention to his dark, almond shaped eyes, and although his name was European I wondered where he once hailed from.
“Why the theatrics?” I asked.
“I simply prefer the dark.”
“Did you grow up in a cave? Maybe I’ll call you Gollum.”
He crossed his arms and shook his head. His index and middle finger flexed, then curled inward again.
“You enjoy games,” he said. “I imagine you require constant entertainment to keep you from slaughtering countless people.”
“Why would I want to refrain? It’s in my nature and I don’t believe one can or should change that.”
“You’ve changed to a degree. We discussed this.” His fingers flexed again, making me cock my head.
“Frankly, I don’t understand why you’re obsessed with the idea.”
“Simple curiosity. I’ve been alive nearly a millennium and have seen a great many things. It’s not often I’m granted a new experience.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve found something to be interested in aside from tugging on your micropenis. Is it like playing a tiny violin?” I rubbed my thumb and index finger together to demonstrate, unable to hide my amusement.
“Those that laugh at their own jokes should simply accept that they aren’t funny.”
“On the contrary, it means one has a great sense of humor. When’s the last time you laughed, Vasile? Was it when they came out with that last horrible rendition of Dracula?”
“It’s less laughable and more of a tragedy. The real thing was far more interesting and had nothing to do with love.”
“Let me guess. It was you.” I put on a dramatic Romanian accent, wiggling my fingers in the air for emphasis.
“That’s ridiculous. The idea of Dracula did not come from a single person, but from the monsters as a whole. They were a coven, of sorts, and they weren’t legend. Everyone knew who and what they were. People would bring their newborn babies to be fed on in a sort of ritual, like baptism among Christians.”
Humming thoughtfully, I hopped up on the counter, swinging my feet idly. “I love a story that has a basis in reality. Vampires revered as gods. We should go back to that world.”
He snorted a laugh that was as monotone as his voice. “Gods,” he scoffed. “Those already existed and they were not us, Hemlock. We bowed at the feet of a goddess, sacrificed human and vampire alike to feed and strengthen her.”
My lip curled at the suggestion. “The Iraivan.”
“What was left of them. Now, there is only one.”
“I’ve counted quite a few at this point, actually.”
“You’re an imbecile. Pure Iraivan do not feed on blood to survive. They feed on it to awaken their magic. What we are is a disgrace to the real thing.”
“Ah, so you’re a bunch of racists. I should’ve known.”
He fisted his hands, then stretched his two fingers out again. I glanced to the side, noting the door that was directly across from the one I’d entered through. There was a sliver of light coming from underneath it and as I watched, it blinked out.
Sliding off the counter, I took a few nonchalant steps in that direction. Vas shifted his body to watch me.
“So, I’m assuming I’m bait,” I went on, taking a couple more steps.
“Essentially. Your mate will come for you.”
“She’s smart, so I’m hoping she won’t.”
“After what she lost, she won’t be able to help herself.”
I stopped moving. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not important right now.” He flexed his fingers again quickly.
“What happened to Sam?” I demanded, stepping toward him.
The mask hugged his jaw tightly enough for me to see him clench it. He gave me the smallest shake of his head. I was torn between going through the door and trying to learn something. Squaring my shoulders, I forced myself to move toward the door.
It swung inward, nearly hitting me in the face. A man strode through, his face pinched like he was trying to hold in a shit. His eyes landed on me, darkening with a fury that felt personal.
“Davi,” Vas greeted in more of a monotone than usual.
“You and these fucking lights,” Davi grumbled, flipping the switch. Vas flinched but didn’t make any other moves.
Not waiting for the punchline, I headed out the door. I heard the grumpier one shout at Vas, something about not blocking off the exit. He was hot on my heels, but I was faster. The only problem was I didn’t know where the hell I was going.
The hallway turned to the left and let out at the top of a massive staircase. I leapt over the banister, landing in a grand foyer, then made a beeline for the double doors that I assumed would lead me outside. Flinging the door open, I grinned, then deflated.
It was a greenhouse. That didn’t make sense, though. From the windows, I could see the woods and… My house. It was like I remembered it before my mother died and it fell into disrepair. I’d tried to keep the greenhouse in good shape, but my father regularly trashed it in a drunken rage while he spewed hateful words about me. He held to the belief that I killed my mother and before I ripped his eyes out, he spat the words at me again. In the end, he died of asphyxiation by swallowing them wrong.
Stepping back, I shut the doors. Obviously, it wasn’t real. Walking out there would be a trap. Even an idiot could see that.
“Interesting,” a woman mused from behind me. It wasn’t really a nice voice. Too nasally with an annoying air of superiority.
“Sibon, I presume,” I said without turning around.
A hand touched my neck and I grabbed it, dragging her so she was standing in front of me. Her eyes were wide, more in amusement than fear.
“Signor Giudice. It’s a pleasure.”
“Never touch me,” I warned.
“You’re the one touching me.”
Releasing her, I put a foot of distance between us. “You’re the infamous raging bitch with a stick up her ass? It may be unoriginal, but I’m not impressed.”
Truly, I wasn’t. She was short, barely over five feet by the looks of it. I would’ve expected her to be sultry and intimidating, but she was incredibly bland. She had eyes that were nearly black and dark hair that was cut to her chin. Sam would probably call it a ‘Karen cut.’ Her olive skin was smooth and didn’t speak of the age I knew she was. Even though she wasn’t a vampire, she clearly possessed immortal life somehow.
In a pair of leggings with Christmas trees on them and a sleek, black sweater, she looked incredibly normal. Unremarkable, for sure, but I could feel the nonhuman air about her. Aside from whatever mind game she’d conjured a moment ago, there was a depth to her that piqued my curiosity.
“And you,” she replied, “Are the infamous psychopath that has made things very stressful these last couple of months.”
“Have I? It wasn’t intentional, but if I knew who the fuck you were before, it would have been.”
She laughed lightly, tipping her head back. “Vasile did say you’d be problematic. I told him it would only make things more fun.”
“You know what I find fun? Game nights. We should plan one after the holidays. Have your people call my people or whatever.”
When I moved toward the door, she stepped in front of me. She wasn’t blessed with vampire speed. It was as if she’d anticipated what I would do. Not a fan of that little trick.
“My dear,” she drawled, looking past me.
I glanced over my shoulder at the two men standing at the base of the stairs.
“Oh, god,” I groaned. “Vas, don’t tell me you’re fucking her. I actually had the tiniest bit of respect for you.”
He rolled his eyes as he passed me. Sibon kissed his cheek and said something to him in a language I didn’t speak. I was regretting not spending the time learning them like Mark had.
Clearing his throat, he nodded. He stopped at the door, sparing me a brief glance. It looked like he wanted to say something, but he slipped outside without a word. I saw a glimpse of the street before the door shut behind him. Not that I needed confirmation that it wasn’t some weird portal to my family home, but I felt relieved.
“He’s not good at this part,” she told me, as if sharing a secret.
“And what part is that?” I asked, even though I had a pretty damn good feeling.
“Think of yourself as a worm on a hook. All I have to do is cast you into the water and wait for a bite.”
Mm. I smelled torture in my future. It was a good thing I was both a sadist and a masochist. At a certain point, it wouldn’t do me much good, but I was intrigued to see what Sibon’s demented little head could come up with. I was certain my ideas were better, but it would be wise to keep those to myself. She’d have to come up with original content if she wanted to impress me.