He passed into the compound, leaving behind the human world—Nora’s world—and descended into the depths of hell.
Cold stone enclosed him. He let it harden his heart, his soul, his existence. This was not a place where he could allow himself to feel. Here, he followed orders. Here, he danced to his master’s whims. Here, he donned the skin of a monster.
Even if he had not felt the pull toward Arcuro, he would have known where to find him. His master’s favorite chamber was the tasting room. The steps twisted around a corner and delivered him to the low-ceilinged cavity. An amalgamation of scents hit him: fear-induced sweat, pleasure-dampened flesh, the metallic tang of blood. Overpowering it all was the seductive presence of his master.
Jared’s fangs ached. His gut churned.
Wearing black pants and a black shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, Arcuro lounged on the larger of two black leather couches in the center of the circular chamber. He was not alone in the room. Along the stone walls, thirty large pillows were placed several feet apart. Some days, a man or woman sat on each one. Today only seven were occupied. Two of the seven were humans, here because they chose to be. The other five were in chains. Three were human. The other two were vampires half-drained of blood and life. That was better condition than when Jared had last seen them. They were brought out often when Jared was in residence.
“They can sit upright,” Jared said, meeting his master’s disturbing smile. “Shall I remedy that?”
Jared was the reason they were there. He had hunted them down five years ago after they had entered The Rain’s Null zone without Arcuro’s permission. Since then, Jared routinely tormented them, draining them to the edge of existence. He made them grovel for the end of their lives, then when their eyes grew heavy, when they hoped their souls were on the way to being freed by death, he bit his own wrist and held it before them.
They could not resist his Aged blood. They drank, sealing themselves into this cycle of hell. They had given up on forgiveness, on freedom, on hope of a different existence long ago.
“I should have a new unsanctioned to add to the collection,” Arcuro said. “Where is the youngling?”
Was that what the summons was about? He had not yet reported the encounter with the werewolves because he had been too caught up in Nora. In the possibility of a future with her. Fool.
Jared stopped in front of his master. “The youngling is dead.”
Arcuro tilted his head. “Oh?”
He already knew. This was the game Arcuro played, manipulation through simple inquiries and calculated smiles. “Two werewolves were also following Kennedy Rain. The youngling’s presence vanished in their vicinity. They are dead as well.”
“What did they tell you?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Arcuro’s brows rose toward the cavern’s ceiling. “I am disappointed. You are supposed to toy with your victims. You are supposed to have long, detailed conversations. There are so many things we could have learned, but then you do have another source of information, don’t you?”
Do not blink. Do not stiffen. Do not react at all.
“I do not believe the wolves belonged to Lehr.”
“How convenient.” Arcuro crossed an ankle over his knee, then snapped his fingers. “I have a present for you, something I had to search across the country to find. I think you will be pleased.”
Jared felt two presences approach the tasting room, an Aged vampire and a human. He turned to watch them enter. His gaze locked onto the woman. She had long, dark blond hair, amber eyes, and a body shaped so very similarly to Nora’s.
Jared could not panic. He could not feel. He could only exist.
“Beautiful, yes?” Arcuro motioned for the woman to go to Jared. She smiled demurely at him, something Nora would never do.
“Yes.” He forced his hand to lift and touched the human’s face. No, she was nothing like Nora. She did not move like her, did not stand like her, did not meet his gaze with a challenge in her eyes. This human was a flat drawing—all the lines were right, but there was no depth to the image.
“Tell me.” Arcuro leaned forward. “How does it feel to fuck the daughter of our enemy?”
He could not respond immediately. He needed a moment to demolish the man he had become these past few weeks. “It has been entertaining.”
“How long has it been? Weeks? Months?” Only a small rim of dark brown was visible around Arcuro’s dilated, black pupils.
“Just over a month,” Jared responded. The woman who was not Nora moved closer to him, her breasts pressing against his arm.
“You’ve drunk from her.”
“She consented.”
“Did she? How fascinating. I must admit I’m surprised she tolerated you breathing the same air as she.”
