Quin bit his lip. “They’re only half-Graced.”

  Trace folded his arms across his massive chest. “If you’d declared their race, they would have been removed and kept here, you know that. All potential breeding stock—”

  “And that is why they were at the settlement.” Quin’s expression was shuttered. “My sisters were not there to be your personal broodmares. I thought they’d be safer here than with another were compound, or even with a Graced refuge. But they weren’t.”

  Wolf frowned at the insult, but ignored it. If he had a sister, and they’d been abducted by a group of leeches, he’d be pissed as well. “If we get your sisters back, then you work with us from now on. Permanently.” Having a Gray up their sleeve would be an invaluable asset.

  “That’s blackmail.” Quin glared.

  Wolf chuckled. “It sure is. Do we have a deal?”

  Chapter 3

  Some days, I wish there was still proper alcohol. I could really do with a single malt whisky (or three), not this crap they call ‘moonshine.’

  ~ Quin Kirkman, Journal

  Laney’s left eye ached. She’d been wearing her contact lens for over a month straight, which would have made her doctor throw a hissy fit, if he’d still been alive (she could wear them for days on end, but was meant to take them out and give them a clean). But he, along with her mother and stepfather and the rest of the city she’d grown up in – ‘city’ being a rather euphemistic description for the cobbled-together houses, bootlegged technology and ramshackle, half-demolished buildings that had been her home – were now nothing more than dust. Jane and Laney had only made it out before the attack on their home because of their half-brother, Quin. He’d come before the vampires and weres arrived and smuggled them out. How he’d known about the impending attack … Laney preferred not to speculate.

  Usually, Graceds left their non-Graced siblings to rot, especially when they hadn’t grown up together. But Quin had always watched out for them, if from a distance, and Laney could only hope he was doing the same now. He was a powerful Gray; he might stand a chance of breaking them out with his telekinesis.

  Then again, he had dumped them in a were-controlled settlement where once every six months they were ‘harvested’ from. Every time they risked death at the hands of a were surgeon, whose only skill lay in removing the desired meat. Maybe Quin had thought that was the safest option. Why they couldn’t stay with him, she’d never know. But then, she didn’t really know much about how a full-blooded Graced thought, having never met any others, apart from her brother.

  “My neck hurts,” Jane said quietly.

  Blinking, Laney realized her sister had returned from the selection. The vampire guard who had held the knife to Laney’s throat had come into the dormitory and taken away six of the women. Laney imagined the same thing had taken place in the men’s hall. It wasn’t the first time this little trip had been orchestrated. Instead of worrying about her sister, like she should be, she’d been off in her own little world. Which was dangerous – and stupid – in a place like this.

  And Laney should be extra careful on behalf of her sister. Jane had Blue in her Hazel eyes. Being in a place like this, where cold-as-ice vampires roamed, feeding off humans who stank of fear … It’d be hard on someone like Jane, even though her gifts were latent. Sometimes Blue-Hazels had the ability to subconsciously pick up on the emotions of those around them. Luckily for Jane, it’s probably why the vampires had left her with the ‘herd’; Blues – empaths – weren’t as desired as Greens and Grays for breeding stock.

  Leaning down, Laney looked at her sister, who was sitting on the bottom bed of their metal bunk. Their bunk was tucked in the corner of the large steel and concrete warehouse; she had been given a false sense of security by the wall at her back. The sheets Jane and Laney sat on were a worn gray, with a threadbare woolen blanket neatly tucked over the top. Hopping down, Laney landed quietly on the concrete floor before sitting on the mattress next to her sister.

  Jane had a hand clutched to her throat, where Laney could see a makeshift bandage protruding. It was dark red in the center, with pink tinges at the corners. Gently pulling aside Jane’s hand, Laney looked at the wound. Trying to hide her wince, Laney met the tired Hazel eyes of her sister. Her straight, normally neat blonde hair had frayed from its bun.

  “You need to get it cleaned.”

  There was no real reason why the wound should still be bleeding. Proteins in vampire saliva were designed to speed the human healing process from weeks down to a matter of hours. The vampire must have wiped the wound clean, to prevent healing. Or, whoever had fed didn’t drool much while doing so.

  Jane’s gaze met hers. “I only have this rag.”

  Jane was the smartest person Laney had ever met. Not that there’d been a lot of people to meet when she’d been growing up, not by historical standards. A couple of thousand humans had called her shanty town home, before it became ruins. But it was enough for Laney to know Jane was far too intelligent for her own good.

  “I’ll go ask for help,” Laney said.

  Jane reached out and clasped Laney’s wrist with her free hand. “No!” Then quietly, “It’s okay. You know how to stop the bleeding. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

  Laney looked down at the lightly tanned hand clutching her olive one. “It’s not okay. If you get an infection, then there won’t be antibiotics here to help.”

  At least, Laney seriously doubted there would be any kind of useful medication. Vampires didn’t get infections. Plus, the production of medicines like that had been all but obliterated in the last ten years. Not enough humans to make them. Not enough facilities left standing. Things had gone past the point of no return a decade ago, after the plague had hit. Weres and vampires meant business now that the number of humans was dwindling down to thousands, rather than millions.

  Humans were more valuable than gold.

  Graceds even more so, since vampires and weres could breed successfully with them.

  Standing, Laney shook off her sister’s hand and walked to the door at the far end of the room. Her footsteps seemed to echo loudly in the concrete chamber, but since none of the other women appeared to pay her much attention, Laney figured she was being fanciful. Five of the other women clutched their necks with a dreamy expression on their faces, while the others sat wrapped in blankets. One or two spoke, but it was strangely silent in comparison to how life had been in the settlement.

  Things hadn’t exactly been fun while they’d lived under were control, but they’d had their own little wattle and daub house, complete with minimalistic wooden furniture one of the women had helped make, and meaningful if boring work. Laney and Jane had been in charge of running the vegetable gardens with some of the other women, while the men maintained the large crop fields, half of which were used to make the bio-fuel that ran the generators and vehicles. Although, the only use Laney had had for the generators was their ability to provide light and heat. Everything else had been done the old-fashioned way. But that single lightbulb that was lit for an hour each evening had allowed Jane and Laney to continue their real work, even if only theoretically.

  Since they’d arrived at the Raven Clan, around a quarter of the female villagers had been used for food. Laney knew it was only a matter of time before she was taken out for a blood-letting session as well. As half-Graced, it was doubtful that she would be able to experience the high that the saliva could bring; she’d have to pretend through the pain. Learn how to mimic those glazed looks of happiness. Otherwise, their captors would soon work out what she was, and Laney didn’t want to be a broodmare for some sociopathic vampire. She only hoped Jane had been a good actor; her sister would also become more than just food if they thought her Hazel genes were strong enough to resist the saliva high. Even if Blues weren’t really wanted for breeding stock.

  Reaching the huge metal door, Laney banged against the portal. It had a thick glass window, with the surrounding metal panels riveted together; she doubted her pounding would create too much of a ruckus, although it would give her a bruised fist. She stood patiently, waiting for someone to answer. While her efforts hadn’t been that cacophonous, the vampires would still be able to hear her, even through the thick steel slab.

  The door jerked open. “What?” The vampire on the other side of the door barked the question at her, his purple eyes ablaze. Laney hadn’t seen him before, but that didn’t mean much.

  Fighting back the urge to cower, she looked in the general direction of the vampire’s face. Show no weakness, she told herself.

  “My sister needs medical treatment,” Laney said, the words surprisingly confident.

  The vampire bared his teeth, showcasing his long, curving fangs. Which were meant to be retractable. “Your sister can fuck off.”

  The vampire went to slam the door shut, but Laney shoved herself in the way. It was lucky he hadn’t let go of the heavy metal slab, or she might have been crushed. “If you want her to get an infection, then go right ahead. Walk away. But I doubt you have the medical equipment to be able to stop the infection if it went to her blood, and then you’ve lost another piece of cattle.” She spat the last word, and it made the vampire narrow his eyes. In thought, or annoyance, she couldn’t tell. It was probably a bit of both.

  The vampire looked her up and down.

  “What would you know?”

  “I’m a doctor.” Sort of. Had been, over ten years ago. She’d graduated young, and had gone straight into clinical research. It was meant to have been a lifesaving goal. Something that would stop the war.

  She’d been naive and stupid.

  “What is wrong with her?” the guard asked.

  “Whoever fed off her didn’t leave enough saliva on the wound to make it heal. I either need you to spit on the bite – after I clean it – or get me some bandages so I can patch it up.”

  “So it is still bleeding?” The vampire pushed past her and strode into the large room. He slammed the door shut behind him. It was so heavy it would need two to three humans to move it. Purple eyes bored into her neck.

  “Yes.”

  He snarled. “Idiots.” Turning to her, the vampire demanded, “Where is she?”

  Not the exact response she was after. Crossing her arms, she tried to radiate authority. As much as she could, as a captive, in the equivalent of a hessian sack and viewed as little more than dinner. “I need to clean it first, before you do anything to it.”

  She swore the vampire almost sighed. “What do you need to clean it?”

  “Fresh bandages and saline.”

  “And this will prevent an infection?”

  “It should.” Hopefully. If they had any.

  “Wait here. Make sure she doesn’t lose too much blood, or you’ll be fed from next.”

  Chapter 4

  I have ‘friends’ everywhere. It keeps me alive.

  ~ Quin Kirkman, Journal

  “We need to get them out.” Quin folded his arms across his chest as he spoke. Trace, Wolf and the Graced were all seated in Wolf’s office. It was a small room without a view, and had a desk, some filing cabinets and three chairs. All metal. One seat had been brought in from another room. Normally, Wolf used the office to chat to Trace alone; it was the only place he could be assured that the other weres wouldn’t interrupt them, or hear what was said. There was only one ‘soundproof’ – when it came to were hearing – room in the whole underground compound, and this was it.

  “What, you want us to just walk into the vampire fortress and ask for your sisters nicely?” Wolf didn’t stop the sarcasm from lacing his words. He wanted the humans back as well, but some things you had to write off as a lost cause.

  After all, they had another dozen settlements they could still harvest from, even if it meant this month a were or three may go hungry at the loss. They were making sure that the women who were fertile focused on becoming pregnant: gravid women were rewarded with more food, no harvesting, and private quarters with small luxuries. Plus, there was the whole benefit of the continuation of the human species. Although, the humans didn’t seem to be too keen on producing young that would grow up to be food.

  Part of him couldn’t blame them.

  But while Wolf had agreed to get the two girls out earlier, he was regretting it now. There was really no good plan. Offering the vampires two other replacement humans would do no good; the vampires would just want to know why these two were so important. And then they’d demand a settlement or three in return. And probably send back corpses.

  “There’s got to be something we can offer them,” Quin muttered.

  “Tatiana doesn’t do deals,” Trace said.

  Trace would know. He was the public eyes and ears of their clan. While people knew that Wolfgang Fenris was the ‘alpha,’ he never ventured out in public under his real name. If you didn’t know the face of the man you had to kill, then assassination was more difficult. And it was easier for him to hide his identity in comparison to some other weres, with him being second generation, rather than first – like most alphas or clan leaders. His details had never been stored in a lab report somewhere.

  “We need to get someone inside then,” Wolf mused, running a hand over his bristle-covered chin.

  “They’d never make it out alive,” Trace countered.

  Quin sat up straight. “I’ll go.”

  “Didn’t know you had a death wish, or wanted to be a father so bad,” Wolf said.

  If a Gray Graced went into a vampire compound, they’d either become food or breeding stock. Probably both. They’d never get out alive.

  “They wouldn’t be able to contain me.” Quin’s voice had a cold seriousness that Wolf believed. But there were ways even Graceds could be stopped.

  “Really?” Wolf stood. He motioned for Quin and Trace to follow him as he headed out the door. They entered a cool and sterile corridor that was typical of the compound: concrete walls, floors and ceilings with metal supports and doors. Wolf led them down a few more floors to a sub-level of the underground compound. This area had only a single corridor, lined with doors. Behind each door was a cell. The first six were designed to hold humans, the second ten for vampires or weres, and the last four were for Graceds. Supposedly. He hadn’t had a chance to test the theory out.

  Wolf turned back. “Follow me.”

  Reaching the last door, he opened it and motioned Quin to go inside.

  The Graced stared at him. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

  “This is an ex-vampire stronghold. This room is meant to be able to contain Graceds of all abilities. Try it out. I need to shut the door for the test to work properly. I won’t lock it.”

  Quin just stood there. “You’re asking me to trust you right now.”

  Wolf met the serious Gray gaze. “I guess I am.”

  It was a lot to ask someone, someone who could be held prisoner here and then used for whatever purposes Wolf wanted. But he needed an active Gray more than he needed an imprisoned one.

  “In or out?”

  They stood in silence for a handful of heartbeats, then Quin walked into the cell. “Close it.”

  Wolf shut the door, carefully making sure that he hadn’t locked it.

  Through the glass window, Wolf watched as Quin stood alone in the empty room, a look of concentration on his face, his eyes narrowed. But nothing seemed to be happening. His expression turned into a frown, and then Quin was gesticulating with his hands. Eventually he stopped. He walked to the door and tugged it open.

  “I couldn’t do anything.” Surprise was evident on the man’s face.

  Trace looked contemplative. “I always wondered if these cells would work.”

  “I didn’t know they had this kind of technology.” Quin looked worried.

  “I think only a few bases have it. But you can bet that Tatiana will have access to at least one of these. If you got trapped inside one, you couldn’t get out unless someone let you.”

  “How does it work?”

  “Buggered if I know,” Wolf replied. He wasn’t a scientist. But he could read the schematic diagrams he’d found and that’s how he knew this was here.

  Quin ran a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

  “Suddenly realizing how this is a game changer?” Wolf asked.

  “It explains why some people have been taken and no one’s heard of them again. We just assumed they were dead. Now, we may learn that they’re not. Was anyone here when you took over the facility?”

  “No one alive and no Graceds.”

  The former prisoners had all been found dead in the cells. Three weres had been locked in contorted positions, skin blue; Wolf had guessed some kind of silver-laced gas. The humans had been stiff as boards, their faces bleak. There’d been no Graceds. Maybe they had been taken out before the slaughter, because they were worth too much.

  “All the more reason for me to go in,” Quin said into the quiet.

  “Are you insane?” Trace blurted.

  “There could be more of my people in Tatiana’s stronghold.”

  “There is no way we are going to risk you on something like this.”

  “I can’t trust anyone else.”

  “I’ll go,” Wolf found himself saying.

  Trace growled. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “No one knows my face.”

  “I’m surrounded by idiots.” Trace gnashed his teeth. “You’re the alpha.”

  “I’m one alpha. There are plenty other weres here who could take my place.”

  “You have responsibilities.”

  “As do we all,” Wolf said. “As do we all.”

  Chapter 5

  I only love two people, even if they don’t know it; it’s all I can afford.

  ~ Quin Kirkman, Journal

  Laney set up a makeshift surgery in the women’s dorm. She’d hung one of the worn blankets over the edge of the bunk, and told the vampire guard to wait on the other side. He stood, bemused, holding onto the packet of saline and bandages he had brought.

 

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