Eli sprang up, motioning to Caitlin and Tierney to follow him. “There’s a page in the book with the control mark all over it. I never understood what the other symbols on the page meant until now. I think…we might be able to use Sameen—her mark—to trace the magic back to its source.”
“Fuck me,” Liam said. “Ya’ three go figure it out. I’m goin’ down to the basement and tell Cade to pull his head out of his arse and get back to bein’ an alpha. This might be our best chance to find Mara.”
Chapter Eight
Sameen
The group in the main room scattered, leaving only Peter and Regulus behind. Sameen was exhausted and could barely manage to sit up. At least Peter didn’t seem to mind her snuggling against his side.
“Do you want to lie down?” he asked. “Or...are you hungry?”
“She is ravenous. I do not eat food and even I can see that.” The vampire huffed as if he could not believe Peter would ever be so stupid. “I know the young one bought enough food to feed the entire countryside. Get her something.”
“Will you be okay?” Peter asked.
He was only going to the kitchen. Not that she knew where the kitchen was in this house, but it couldn’t be far. Still, she’d been near hysterics earlier at the thought he might leave her alone.
Her throat was raw from all the talking, and she couldn’t stomach any more tea, so she just nodded, and he rushed off. Only then did she realize she was now alone with a vampire. This was a mistake. She had to go find Peter.
“I will not harm you,” Regulus said as if he were discussing the weather. “And before you ask, those as old as I am have manytalents. If I desired, I could see all of your thoughts. Even force you to bend to my will.”
Sameen tried to get up, but the room started to spin. Regulus was at her side before she even realized what was happening and caught her elbow.
“I am not a bastard, Sameen. I am, as Peter said, an insensitive asshole. But that comes from centuries without my humanity. When I gave you my blood, it created a connection between us. That connection will fade in another few hours. But for now, I can sense your pain. Physical and emotional.” He eased her back down to the leather sofa. His voice was familiar, and stirred a memory buried deep in the back of her mind. Cursing. His.
“You were their prisoner too.”
“For a time. Eli’s father freed me at great risk to his own life.” Regulus leaned closer and rested his fingers at her temple.
Bars. A cell. Ribbons of bright metal all through the stone floor shimmered in the candlelight. Chains rattled, and then footsteps.
“I will not survive another bloodletting,” Regulus managed, his voice a shadow of its current deep baritone. “Unless they wish to hasten the end of my existence.”
A man dressed in a black cloak with a hood shadowing his face withdrew a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the cell door. He didn’t speak as he approached. Paulo was the Thirteen’s slave, bound years before, though in the weeks Regulus had been locked in this cell, the man had been...almost kind.
“Stake me. Please. Starvation and blood loss is an agonizing end.”
The man knelt next to Regulus and pulled back the hood. His eyes held such pain as he exposed his neck.
“Why?” Regulus asked.
Paulo shook his head, pointed to his neck, and leaned closer.
With a snarl, the vampire yanked the man against him, his bound hands trembling as he sank his fangs deep. Blood rushed into his mouth, and it tasted better than any he’d had in his very long existence.
Strength flooded his limbs in stark contrast to the weakening man in his grasp.
Paulo hissed out a breath and pressed his hand to his side. Regulus withdrew his fangs from the human’s neck, then pricked his own finger and touched the blood to each of the wounds he’d left behind.
“They are calling to you.”
A nod from Paulo, and another grimace of pain.
“Do you have the keys to these shackles?” the vampire asked. At the shake of the man’s head, Regulus sighed. “Then I will have to do this the old fashioned way. It will be loud. And painful.”
Paulo glanced back at the corridor, then met Regulus’s gaze and gestured with his hands. Left, straight, left again, up, then right. His face twisted in pain, and he scrambled to his feet, swaying slightly.
“I could take you with me,” Regulus offered.
