They were toying with him. The realization burned through Boarstaff's veins as he dropped into a defensive stance, staff held before him. These weren't opponents he could defeat. They moved too quickly, calculated too perfectly. But he wouldn't be taken without a fight.
"Where is Sebastian?" he demanded, gaze shifting between the brothers.
"Safely contained," Dominic replied, his expression unchanged. "Though with significant structural damage. His modifications have degraded considerably during his time among you primitives."
Zarek circled to Boarstaff's left, movements fluid yet mechanical, like a precisely engineered predator. "Father is quite eager to begin repairs. To understand what went wrong with his design."
Boarstaff struck again, a series of rapid jabs meant to force Zarek back. None connected. The vampire noble moved like water around the attacks, each step precisely calculated to expend minimum energy while maintaining maximum distance.
Pain exploded across Boarstaff's ribs as Dominic appeared at his side, a single finger pressed against his torso with surgical precision. The attack targeted a nerve cluster with such accuracy that Boarstaff's entire left side was momentarily paralyzed.
"Fascinating," Dominic observed. "Your tolerance for pain is impressive for a primitive." He pressed another point near Boarstaff's shoulder, sending fresh agony shooting down his arm. "Father will want to know how you endure it."
Boarstaff staggered back, struggling to maintain his grip on his staff. His left arm hung nearly useless at his side, twitching as nerves misfired. He swung his weapon in a wide arc with his right hand, trying to create space.
Zarek caught the staff mid-swing, brass-tipped fingers closing around the wood with crushing force. "Such loyalty Sebastian shows to your primitive settlement," he said conversationally, as if they were discussing the weather rather than in the midst of combat. "Killing our scout, displaying the body at the border, as if that would delay the inevitable. He's fallen so far from noble efficiency."
Anger flared through Boarstaff's pain. Of course, they knew everything. They'd found the body Sebastian had left at the boundary. The warning hadn't been enough.
The momentary shift in focus was all Zarek needed. He twisted, wrenching the staff from Boarstaff's grip with such forcethat something snapped in his wrist. Pain lanced up his arm as Zarek examined the weapon with detached curiosity.
"Primitive but effective," Zarek remarked, testing the staff's weight. "Against lesser opponents, at least."
With deliberate slowness, he snapped the staff in half across his knee. The crack echoed in the silent forest like a death knell.
Boarstaff charged, weaponless but unwilling to surrender. His fist connected with Dominic's jaw, a solid blow that would have felled any orc warrior. The vampire's head barely moved. Instead, copper filaments beneath his skin pulsed as the impact was absorbed and redistributed.
"Pain response inadequate," Dominic commented, grabbing Boarstaff's injured wrist and applying precise pressure that drove him to his knees. "Subject requires calibration."
Zarek moved behind him, brass fingers extending into needle-like points. With clinical precision, he dragged one finger down Boarstaff's back, slicing through leather armor and into flesh beneath. Blood welled from the perfectly straight incision, warm against Boarstaff's skin.
He leaned closer, mechanical nose analyzing the scent with whirring precision. "I detect his mark on you. How touching."
Dominic's grip tightened on Boarstaff's wrist, sending fresh waves of agony through his arm. "Bringing both of you to Father will be most efficient. Your data may help us understand Sebastian's degradation."
Zarek drew another line across Boarstaff's shoulder, this one deeper. Blood flowed freely now, soaking into his armor. "Lady Elisandra will want to study you as well. She has particular methods for extracting information."
The unfamiliar name meant nothing to Boarstaff, but the clinical detachment in Zarek's voice told him everything he needed to know about what awaited him at the citadel.
Zarek circled back to face him, examining the blood on his finger with scientific precision. "Too base for consumption, of course. But valuable for research purposes." He wiped the blood onto a small mechanical device at his wrist that whirred briefly in response.
"Physical integrity at seventy-eight percent," Dominic stated, monitoring Boarstaff's condition with cold efficiency. "Blood loss within acceptable transportation parameters."
Zarek smiled his too-perfect smile. "We could continue this exercise," he said, sounding almost bored, "but efficiency parameters suggest immediate conclusion."
Boarstaff struggled against Dominic's grip, fighting through the pain. "Sebastian will—"
"Sebastian will what?" Zarek interrupted, his mechanical laugh lacking any genuine humor. "Save you? How touching. Sebastian is currently unconscious and restrained. He's in no position to save anyone."
Something heavy struck the back of Boarstaff's head. The world tilted sideways, trees and sky spinning in dizzying arcs. As darkness closed in around him, his last thought was of Sebastian; not the blood-covered predator who had returned with a severed head, but the vulnerable man who had lain in his arms in the darkness, whose body had trembled against his own in the quiet hours of night when no one else could see who they truly were to each other.
Then there was nothing at all.
Chapter Fourteen
Sebastian regained consciousness to the familiar scent of copper and brass. His eyes opened to gleaming obsidian walls, their black surfaces reflecting pale light from crystal fixtures, not the warm glow of orcs' fire crystals, but the cold precision of vampire engineering. Each breath brought the sterile, metallic taste of the citadel's stale processed air, so different from the living scents of the forest.
The citadel. He was back in the citadel.
