Wolf bared his teeth in reply.

  The vampire laughed, and he heard them leave, the door shutting behind him with an ominous click. Silence descended and he rolled onto his back, the cool concrete a relief against his boiling blood. As he tried to relax against the pain, he opened his eyes. As he suspected, he was lying on the ground in a concrete cell. There was a metal frame for a bed next to him, but there wasn’t a mattress on it, only metal slats.

  A bucket of water stood in one corner, a steel toilet next to it. Nice standards of hygiene there. He sniffed the air, and scented the cold stench of disuse, along with a more recent odor of vampire blood. Someone else was trapped down here with him. The icy smell of vampires permeated the area; so the guards had been coming in and out of here pretty frequently, he guessed.

  “So, they brought me a fleabag for company.” The words were raspy and hoarse, like the owner hadn’t spoken for a while; only screamed. Wolf guessed his prison mate was a leech. Weres didn’t tend to call each other fleabags. And he doubted a human would be kept down here.

  Wolf thought about sitting up, but he didn’t have the energy. Suddenly, the plan that had seemed somewhat foolproof had become less likely to succeed. Not unless this silver poisoning was over quickly, and he wasn’t dead at the end of it.

  “Lucky me, I have a leech for company.” Wolf’s response was roughened with pain.

  “What’s your name?” the other prisoner asked.

  “John. John Smith,” Wolf said. It was a bit of an old joke. Only someone who’d been around back when humans had been plentiful would recognize it.

  A snort reached his ears. “And I’m Tatiana Romanov.”

  Wolf grunted. “I’d have to kill you if you were.”

  The vampire barked a sound between a laugh and a groan. “You’d have to get in line.”

  Chapter 11

  I used to wonder why I could level cities when my sister could barely throw someone across a room. Then I realized we had different talents.

  ~ Quin Kirkman, Journal

  “What do you know about vampire physiology?”

  Laney’s spine locked at the low words spoken next to her ear. She hadn’t even heard the speaker approach. Turning her head on the side, from where she’d been staring at the ceiling in her bunk bed, she met the purple gaze of the guard who had reluctantly helped her. Scary Vampire 1, she named him, or SV1.

  “The basics,” Laney replied. She wasn’t about to tell him her expertise had been in werewolf and vampire biology.

  “Come with me.”

  Laney didn’t bother to argue. Over the past week, she’d learned to keep her head down and only bother the guards when it came to the other humans’ welfare. It meant that they gave her a grudging respect, and strangely, that they didn’t bring her in for feeding. It was as if she did a service for them, so they left her alone in payment. Laney was worried that the situation could change at any moment.

  And that moment may have come.

  Jumping down from the bunk, she followed SV1 out of the room, casting a quick look over her shoulder at Jane. Her sister’s eyes were wide, but she kept her lips sealed. The guard didn’t look back to see if Laney followed, but she figured he could hear her keeping up.

  After they left the dormitory room, the guard turned to her. “If you talk to anyone about what you’re going to see, your life is forfeit. Food source or no food source. Tatiana’s orders.”

  Laney just watched him.

  “Anyone includes your sister. And whoever you tell, they’re dead, too.”

  “I get it.”

  He nodded and then turned back around.

  They soon turned left and went down a corridor Laney hadn’t seen before. Halfway down the hall there was a door; it stood closed and forbidding with a ‘do not enter’ sign. In her youth, she might have taken that as a challenge. Nowadays, she just wanted to avoid anything that screamed unnecessary danger.

  The guard moved to the door and opened it. He beckoned for her to follow.

  Great.

  Not that the death threat hadn’t hinted that something bad was afoot. As they walked down the five flights of stairs, Laney was thankful for the regular physical work she’d done on the farms near the settlement. If she’d been kept by the weres like the vampires kept their cattle, she’d be struggling to get down the stairs, let alone back up them again.

  When they reached the bottom, Laney tried not to visibly look around, but SV1 wasn’t paying attention to her. There were ten cells in the area; each one had metal bars across its front and concrete sides, ceiling and floor. It looked more like an old-fashioned jail than a prison for vampires or weres. Maybe that is what it used to be.

  Only two cells were occupied.

  One at the far right end had a man who was lying on the concrete floor, his limbs akimbo. The cell two doors down from that one had another figure in it. This one was lying on the metal bed that was in the room. It had a thin mattress of foam, which didn’t seem to do much to support the supine form.

  “This one.” SV1 pointed at the figure on the bed. He unlocked the door and motioned her inside. “We need to keep him alive.”

  Laney’s eyes grew wide as she took in the full impact of the sight before her. The man was a vampire, but he was skin and bones. He wore a worn pair of combat pants and nothing else. Three wooden stakes protruded from his torso; scabs had formed around them. Wide eyes stared at the guard then her.

  “Traitor,” the man spat. Blood dribbled down his chin.

  The guard ignored him. “How do we preserve the prisoner’s life?”

  Laney couldn’t keep the retort back. “Well, I’d start by pulling out the stakes.”

  The guard turned to her, expression blank. “Tatiana wants him tortured.”

  Laney took a few steps forward, staring down at the figure. She had no medical equipment with her, but then, what was she to do? Take some blood samples, all of which would show that the vampire had IgE in their system; that they were suffering an allergic reaction to the wood? The man had wooden stakes embedded in his abdomen, although none next to his heart, since that would have already ended him. But the wounds surrounding the stakes were swollen and inflamed and an angry red. Spreading out from the impact wound were lines of raised welts, fading into a rash.

  “If you want him to live, then you need to remove the stakes. I’d recommend injecting him with some adrenaline, if you have any.” While vampire immune systems were able to heal most injuries quickly, wood inhibited that ability. The allergens would have interacted with his bloodstream, and if left unchecked, would eventually cause internal heart failure that even a vampire’s system couldn’t fix.

  “How long will it take to heal?”

  Laney shut her eyes. She’d said she only had a basic understanding of vampire biology. Any concrete answers would give away her lie. “I’m not sure. I’d need to clean the wound, make sure no lingering traces of wood are present. If you don’t have adrenaline or an antihistamine, it could take longer to heal.” She doubted that any of the less common medications like glucocorticoids would be readily available. Plus, they’d have to be calibrated to the vampire immune system.

  “Do you need more saline and cloths?” the guard asked.

  A barking laugh emerged from the other cell. “A bit of water and some material will surely heal some stake wounds.” The words were deep, almost gravelly. For some reason, a shiver wound down her spine at their sound.

  “Did I ask your opinion, puppy?” That emerged from her soon-to-be patient.

  “Puppy? I can’t wait to rip your throat out.” It was said almost cheerfully.

  “I can’t wait for you to try.”

  Laney ignored the strange banter. “Don’t you have any doctors here?” she asked the guard.

  SV1’s eyes locked on her. “Vampires don’t generally need medical assistance.”

  Right.

  “Step out of the cell,” SV1 said.

  Laney did as she was told. The vampire locked the door and then eyed the remaining cells. “Wait here, and I’ll get you the supplies we have. Don’t step too close to the cells. These prisoners are dangerous, even if they don’t appear it.”

  Chapter 12

  I’ve never really contemplated a happy ending, not for myself. But I do hope my sisters will find joy, somehow. I’ve yet to work that part out.

  ~ Quin Kirkman, Journal

  “Aww, did the guard just show the little human concern?” Wolf couldn’t help the taunt that emerged. He’d been stuck down in the cell for days, his wounds spreading fire through his body. It hadn’t led to an improved temperament. It would also be another three days before Trace would send a party to come looking for him. Trace and Quin had given Wolf a week to try and break the girls out, or they – more accurately, Quin – were coming to get them instead.

  “I guess he doesn’t want the only doctor eaten.” That was from the human. The statement was so dry it made him thirsty. Quin hadn’t mentioned that the vampires had access to a human doctor when he’d given his intel.

  “Maybe you could come and check me out, then.” If he hadn’t been in so much pain, and the human was close enough to see his face, he might have waggled his eyebrows.

  “Aside from the obvious, is there anything wrong with you?”

  “What do you mean by ‘obvious’?”

  “Well, you’re certainly a little unhinged. But I’m not a psychiatrist, so that’s just conjecture.”

  “I doubt there are any left. I reckon they would have been all eaten.” He heard the vampire chuckle-wheeze at his statement.

  “Yeah, they would have been some of the first on the list,” the vampire said. “Aside from the geneticists. All that ‘how do you feel’ bullshit, or the ‘was killing that person really necessary?’ was annoying.”

  He thought he heard the human gulp.

  “When did the clan get a doctor, anyway?” That was from the vampire.

  “I was taken in the last raid,” the human spoke slowly.

  Quin – or Trace – hadn’t mentioned there were any human doctors in the village. How little did they even know about their cattle? If there’d been a doctor, then he’d have had them moved into the compound; they needed every potential surgeon they could get their hands on. The precise removal of livers meant that the humans could survive the harvest; it was important it was done right. He had some weres who were trained to do the extraction, but only one dedicated to the task. Sometimes were instincts would kick in and things would end rather badly.

  Wolf heard the vampire guard’s footsteps approach the prison area and decided to bite back on the last retort. Instead, he lay on the floor quietly. He’d decided it was a more comfortable option compared to the metal slats of the bed. His prison mate’s identity had yet to be confirmed, but he had a suspicion as to who he was spending his jail time with.

  He wondered why Tatiana hadn’t just killed Marcus outright. It’s what Wolf would have done, if he forcibly took over another were’s territory. It was foolish to leave your enemies alive.

  “Here,” he heard the vampire guard say. The sound of a door unlocking and footsteps echoed throughout the concrete rooms.

  “I need to pull the stakes out.” The human sounded confident, authoritative even. Which wasn’t expected. He’d thought that most humans were gutless. It came with being thought of as food by pretty much everything else.

  He wished he could see her face. He didn’t know why, but something within him was curious to know what she looked like. It was stupid of him. Humans couldn’t be thought of as more than food, no matter how handy or intelligent they may be. Yet her voice was melting his insides each time he heard it. Or maybe it was just the acid-pain of the silver poison. Now, she was murmuring to the guard and vampire in the other cell. A muted yell emerged, and Wolf figured that one of the stakes had been pulled.

  “Come on,” Wolf yelled. “Don’t be weak. Oh, wait. You’re a leech. Keep screaming like the soft-cock you really are.”

  A few panting breaths, then, “Fuck. You.”

  Wolf hated to admit it, but he felt sorry for the vampire – Marcus. To be deposed and then kept alive for torture. There was no honor in that. Wolf would’ve ripped out the man’s throat and been done with it.

  He listened as the vampire was given a thorough once-over. It did sound like she was continuing the torture rather effectively for Tatiana, with the vampire’s grunts and moans, but eventually the room grew quiet.

  “He’s passed out,” the human said. Wolf rolled his head to one side, listening.

  “Weak.”

  “His body partially healed around the stake. I’d say he showed remarkable strength to keep conscious as long as he did.”

  A snort.

  “There, I’ve finished.”

  Chapter 13

  I had a meeting with Gemma Frost yesterday. She’s one of the most powerful Greens I’ve ever met, and she’s fifteen. In the last generation, there have been four Greens born who are so powerful, they have to live mostly in isolation. There are only a dozen people on the continent whose thoughts remain private from their powerful minds. I think it’s a sign of things to come.

  ~ Quin Kirkman, Journal

  Laney took a deep breath and stripped the latex gloves from her hands. Thankfully, the guard had brought a few extra supplies with him when he returned. No adrenaline, alas. The vampire prisoner was unconscious, but she wasn’t sure how long he’d stay like that. The internal damage and inflammation caused by the stakes had been severe, so it was probably for his own good that his body had given out.

  “While we’re here, you may as well check out the other prisoner.” As the guard helped gather the supplies back together, he cast a sneer at the other vampire. Laney decided she didn’t want to know what the injured vampire had done to deserve being tortured.

  Opening a bag, she shoved the used gauze and gloves into it. “What’s one more patient?”

  She was already in so far over her head it wasn’t a joke.

  SV1 walked to the unconscious vampire’s cell door and opened it, motioning for her to go through. He then locked it, before taking the ten steps to the other cell. “This one isn’t a vampire.”

  Laney raised an eyebrow and followed the guard inside. She’d gathered as much from the ‘puppy’ comment. Her eyes widened as she got a clear look at the man on the floor. Even with a face covered in bruises, his clothes torn in so many places they didn’t serve much as covering, he was still the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on. He had blond-brown dreadlocks, which were tied back in a ponytail, and a face that was so perfectly proportioned it should be illegal. Strong jaw, aquiline nose, bright yellow eyes …

  She shook herself, hoping the vampire hadn’t picked up on her daydreaming. That’s great, very professional, she told herself. Eyeing off a patient as if he was a potential breeding partner. He was a were; there was no way she was going to be doing any kind of breeding with him.

  “What happened to him?” She didn’t see any silver stakes jutting from his chest. Leaning forward, she noted patches of dried blood on his shirt and trousers. The blood surrounded three small holes.

  Those bright eyes stared up at her. “I was shot, princess.”

  Fighting the urge to take a step back, she knelt down on the concrete floor instead. The cold seeped into her knees.

  “Shot with what?” Laney turned to look up at the guard, who folded his arms across his chest and appeared bored.

  “Bullets.” That was from the were.

  “Then you just need them removed? Why do I need to do that? Couldn’t anyone? I’m sure you all have a lot of practice at it by now.” She probably shouldn’t be so sarcastic, but really, in for a penny …

  The were glowered at SV1. “They weren’t normal bullets, were they, leech-boy?”

  Frowning, Laney leaned forward and began inspecting the wounds, ripping his shirt away for one of them. He hissed as she tore away dried blood. Angry lines striated outward from the impact points, where the skin had darkened to a tainted blue-black. She noticed that his muscled chest was moving up and down quickly – he was breathing faster than he needed to. And his skin was warm to touch; warmer than it probably should be. His skin was surprisingly smooth, without as much hair as she’d expect from a were …

  You’re losing it, she scolded herself. Temperature. That’s what you need to focus on. Though without a thermometer, she couldn’t be sure if he had a fever. Sweat glistened on his skin, despite the cool of the room. It was almost like the wounds had gone septic. In addition, necrotic tissue had formed near the entry holes in two of the three wounds. The allergic reaction had gone critical in those locations. She figured his internal organs could be in just as poor condition. And his heart, that might not last much longer, depending on how much silver had entered the bloodstream.

  “What was in those bullets?” Laney leaned back on her heels and looked up at the guard.

  The vampire was silent for long moments. “Silver nitrate.”

  Laney sighed. “Which dissolves in water.”

  Even weres were about sixty percent water.

  She didn’t know how to counteract silver poisoning in weres; not when it was in the bloodstream itself. If it was a stake or a bullet, she could pull it out. But this wouldn’t be so simple.

  “What does it feel like?” Laney asked the were, looking at his forehead rather than meeting his sharp gaze. Even prostrate on the ground with silver poisoning, he was horribly alert.

  The were lay there, panting, a wheeze present under the heavy breaths, not saying anything for long moments. She didn’t think he’d answer. “Like acid being poured through my veins.”

  The guard shifted his stance.

  “Keep the excitement down,” the were said, looking at the vampire with a sneer. “I’m trying to die peacefully here.”

  “Can you help him or not?” the guard asked Laney.

 

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