Kyra clenched her fists, but stepped back into the spittle clothed. It was freezing, the shivers rattling her bones as her teeth chattered together. The basin was obscured by slime, the water more of a rust colour than clear liquid as it soaked into her bra and jeans.
Bane became corporeal as he reached for a towel and handed it over. His eyes roamed across her exposed skin, the fabric of her bra plastering itself to every curve. Her chest tightened, but there was no heat in his gaze, no attraction.
“I’ve made note of your reluctance.”
Kyra patted the towel against her jeans, trying to absorb the excess water. “I did what you asked, I’m clean.”
“We both know you will never be clean, your aura tarnished.” His eyes narrowed. “Tell me Kyra, exactly how you’re able to transfer that wound from one man to another?”
Kyra held the towel to her chest. “I don’t know, I’ve never done it before.”
“It should be impossible, the same as when you saved that bird,” he commented, stepping forward to grip the towel between them. “Tell me what else you can do.”
Kyra didn’t hesitate. “You know everything, there isn’t anything…”
“Do not lie to me,” he said, gaining her another fierce stare. “Matilda’s grandson had some interesting information for me when you departed. Something about the vampire being afraid. You were able to control him, how?”
“I don’t…”
The towel was ripped from her grip. “Eva Morgan will be on stage within the hour. Wouldn’t it be a shame if someone was to publicly hurt her?”
“I don’t know how I do it!” she snapped in panic. “If I concentrate I’m able to feel their true age, and sometimes I’m able to freeze them, but that’s it, I swear!”
“Interesting,” Bane muttered. “Chaos magic is of both life and death, which is why you have the ability to hold and remove souls. Vampires are neither dead nor alive and widely believed they no longer have souls, and yet you held one immobile. I wonder if you would be able to control one entirely?”
Kyra remained silent, the water cold as it dripped off the ends of her hair. The power didn't work with any other Breed, only with vampires. She had figured out that ability when she was ten, and her parents had invited vampires to come play.
“I guess it’s a theory we can work on another time.” Bane’s upper lip twitched, head turning as Cassandra appeared in the doorway.
“Dirk says they’re ready,” she purred, her gaze brightening when they pinned to Kyra, her smile full of poison.
Bane nodded. “After you,” he said, gesturing for Kyra to step out of the bathroom.
His hand was a heavy brand as he guided her out of the bedroom and down the hall, the floral wallpaper turning into stripes and the carpet frayed to the point it revealed the scratched hard wood beneath. They never let her linger too long in the old house, most of the rooms obstructed and the windows blocked off in the same way as the one in her bedroom. There were no stairs, at least, none she had seen in her limited walkthrough. Dust covered every surface, the frames that decorated the walls in the hall either sun damaged or missing photos entirely.
There was nothing to pinpoint her destination.
“You’ll do as you’re told,” he warned as he pushed her through a door to her right, the old house turning industrial, nondescript grey concrete. The new hall was slim, Bane’s shoulders scrapping the walls as he pulled her in front, so she was leading.
“Keep moving.”
On the far right there was an arch which lead to a wide open space, a warehouse she guessed, the expanse empty other than Dirk who stood in the centre. Fluorescent bulbs hung from the high ceiling, a faint buzz as the furthest one away flickered on and off with a whine. At least there were windows, the outside a pitch black so dark she couldn’t look into its depths. Bane read the sudden fear along her muscles, his hand tightening before he shoved her forward. She had been too distracted with the darkness that she stumbled, barely able to catch herself when Dirk turned to face her.
“Where’s the rest of the coven?” Kyra asked, realising Cassandra hadn’t accompanied them into the room.
“Dead,” Bane replied without a hint of emotion. “Adeline wasn’t the only witch Frederick made try and tame Chaos magic.” He waved his hand, and Cassandra stepped into the room from the same hall, dragging something behind her.
A muffled scream, followed by a choked sob.
“As you can see,” Bane continued. “Cassandra offered her services.”
Cassandra released the squirming man, his legs and arms bound together, connected with a single chain which drew her attention to the thin band of glyphs tattooed around his wrists. A cloth covered his mouth, filthy and stained brown. He was young, barely out of his teens, his pale face wet with tears.
The man scrambled back as soon as Cassandra stepped away, the concrete beneath his feet cracking open with an eerie light that highlighted his slim frame and hollow cheeks.
“What are you doing?” Kyra cried, trying to reach the man before Dirk’s hand snaked around her stomach, yanking her back. “How long have you had him?”
The concrete continued to break, the cracks circling around the man who sobbed until he was completely enclosed. Kyra tried to jerk away, shoving against Dirk as she struggled in his grip.
