Enoch follows my horrified gaze. “What the hell is going on here?”
As if in answer to his question clunks and clangs sound off in an alcove to my right, and a screech of metal on metal echoes through the room as a door opens. I can see stairs through the now open entryway, and it makes me think we’re in a cellar or an old basement. Seven men walk into the damp, dirty space and a spark of recognition ignites in my head.
The bulky blonde from the bar is among them. My eyes are locked on his, as he files in and takes his place with the others around the edge of the room. If I had any doubt about who’s responsible for our being tied up in this room, the appearance of that blonde guy solves it. It’s me.Shit!
“Wakey, wakey, little Sentinel," a smooth voice taunts me.
I look over to the doorway and recognition punches me in the gut as I watch the beautiful Middle Eastern man step into the room. He runs the back of his hand over his tawny skin and the scruff on his face, drinking me in with his eyes. The same eyes that watched me as I fought the colossal douche over a month ago in Las Vegas. I knew this fucker would come for me.
His gaze falls on my blood-soaked shirt, and his whiskey-dipped irises flicker red. He inhales deeply and closes the distance between us. He places a finger under my chin and tilts my face back until my eyes find his again. I wince slightly at the pain the movement causes, and he stares at me.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, baby Sentinel. We all thought you were lost, but here you are right under our noses this whole time.”
How the fuck does he know what I am when I just found out days ago? With those words, he leans in and smells me, which is high on the list of the creepiest things I’ve ever experienced. He pulls his fingers away from my chin, and they’re stamped with my blood. I’m fully prepared for him to pull out a handkerchief and wipe the remnants of my injury from his hand. He seems like a handkerchief toting kind of guy. What I am not prepared for is for him to bring his hand to his mouth and lick my blood off, like he’s enjoying an ice cream cone.
Nope,that’snow definitely the creepiest thing I’ve ever experienced.
His eyes flash red again, and something clicks in my brain. I already deduced that he was lamia, but I’d bet anything that this group of lamia is the nest that disappeared when my father did, or they belong to it. I look over and catch Enoch looking angry and calculating. Around him, Nash and Jared Leto look-alike still seem to be unconscious, and Parker looks petrified as tears drip down his cheeks.
“Well, you look to be playing a convincing game of finders keepers. Mind telling me who you are and why they’re here?” I ask, jerking my chin in the direction of Enoch and his friends. My voice is smooth and unperturbed, and I’m so grateful that I don’t sound as scared as I feel.
Several chuckles echo around the room.
“Yes, finders keepers does sum it up nicely. I’m Faron, and you are?”
I’m surprised that he doesn’t know my name. He watched me like a creepy hawk the night of my last fight in Vegas. They announced my name when I entered the arena that night. He knows that I’m a Sentinel and he obviously knew where to find me—although that raises a whole other set of questions I’m forced to dismiss at the moment--but how does he not know specifics or details about me?
Reading the confusion on my face Faron tuts.
“Yes, I know. We’ve used all the best motivational tactics on our…mutual friend. But he’s not been very forthcoming," He tells me cryptically, the hint of a whine in his voice.
“I’m Vinna," I finally offer.
“Lovely. In both name and body," Faron declares with the slightest little bow and a lewd look in his burnt honey toned eyes. “To answer your question, they are here as motivation for your transference," Faron states simply, gesturing to Enoch and the others. “Sorik relayed that you had an attachment to a group of casters, so we thought we’d invite them along to the party.”
Faron tilts his head in the direction of the familiar blonde brute standing against the edge of the room. Well, Sorik clearly wasn’t paying close attention, because none of these casters look anything like my Chosen. I stare at Sorik for a minute trying to gauge if he’s really that much of an idiot.
I debate pointing out the error, in the hope that Faron might let Enoch and the others go, but he’d probably just kill them after I pointed out the mistake. Sorik gives me an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and my eyes immediately jump to Faron, to see if he caught the same thing I did. Faron isn’t watching us though. Instead, he’s approaching the person hanging limply in the corner.
Is Sorik helping me? I look back at the blond vampire from the bar, hoping for another sign that might help me figure everything out, but his eyes are blank and focused on the empty wall across from him.
The slap of skin against skin pulls me from my jumble of thoughts, and my head jerks in the direction of Faron and the hanging body in the corner.
“Wake up you traitorous piece of filth. I want to see your face when you see what we’ve found in spite of you.”
Faron slaps whoever it is again, and a deep pain filled groan and the clinking movement of chains shatters the quiet of the room. Faron steps away, his body no longer blocking my view, and I’m utterly horrified by what I see.
“Talon!” I scream, and I try to go to him.
My chair tilts forward, but someone catches the back and rights it before I can slam face-first into the dirt. Talon’s sallow eyes find mine, and they’re filled with complete and utter despair. He’s a shell of the man I last saw over a month ago, and it’s evident they’ve been brutally torturing him.
His head falls, and I don’t know if it’s in defeat or if he’s just not strong enough to hold it up anymore. Rage is slowly replacing horror, and my eyes move from my broken friend in the corner to the lamia responsible. Faron’s eyes are glittery with excitement.
“I’m going to kill you," I smoothly declare.
Faron hoots with glee at my threat and the other lamia laugh on cue. I tilt my head to the side and smile at him as I embrace my inner psycho bitch. My look seems to unsettle him, and Faron’s laughter dies.
“Don’t worry delicious Vinna, we’ll be with my sire soon, and there will be plenty of fun to be had by all.”
