Killean stared at Simone’s bent head as her shoulders hunched forward. Her profile revealed the delicate slope of her slender nose, high cheekbones, and the curve of her full, pink lips. In his lifetime, he’d encountered numerous beautiful women, but none had affected him as she did.
He felt no desire for her, not while she was like this, but protective urges he’d never known he possessed rolled through him. He wanted to go to her, draw her into his arms, and shelter her from this atrocity, but he was caught in this hideous pit of helplessness until he could figure out a way to get her free.
“They’re future puppets and nothing more,” Joseph said. “Come, let’s hunt.”
Killean forced his attention away from Simone to follow Joseph past the hunters; all fifty of the ones taken from the New Hampshire stronghold were here. Some of Joseph’s flunkies trailed them down the long, concrete corridor. No other rooms or tunnels branched off this one, and every ten feet a recessed light cast a dim, yellow circle onto the concrete. A hundred feet from the end of the corridor, the line of hunters stopped, but empty chains continued to dangle from the walls in wait for future victims.
When they reached the end, Joseph stopped outside the large steel door there. “You should probably dress for this,” Joseph said. “I don’t care if you run around naked for the rest of your life, but you’ll only draw the attention of the humans we hunt, and not in a good way.”
Killean couldn’t argue with that, and since he was ready for more than blood in a glass, he lifted the brandy-colored shirt he’d been handed and tugged it on. It was constricting across his chest and shoulders, and the sleeves ended an inch above his wrist, but the jeans fit well, as did the socks and boots.
“I’m sure you’ll understand that you’ll be blindfolded and put in a trunk again,” Joseph said when he finished dressing. “And that once we get where we’re going, you will be watched. You are not to ask anyone any questions about where we are or try to escape. I’m sure you understand that these rules will be enforced, and you will be monitored until a more mutual trust is established.”
Everything inside Killean rebelled against the knowledge that he would have no freedom outside of this place, but he gritted his teeth and replied. “Of course.”
Joseph gestured to the Savages, and they tied a blindfold around his eyes before slipping a sack over his head and pulling the string tight around his neck. Killean didn’t protest that they cut off some of his air supply; he was sure it was done on purpose, and he would not give them the satisfaction of bitching about it.
The door clanged open and fresh air washed over him. Killean scented the air to try to decipher some clue as to where they were, but all he smelled was grass, the sharper aroma of wild animals, and a nearby fresh water supply. He heard no nearby traffic, but crickets chirruped loudly, and the wings of bats or birds fluttered overhead.
“This way,” Joseph said.
Someone grabbed his elbow and guided him forward. Instead of asphalt or stone, grass crunched under his feet as he walked. Wherever they were, it was a rural area, and he suspected it was far from the city. He stopped when his knees bumped against the bumper of a car and someone guided him into the trunk.
Chapter Five
Killean staredat the weak light in the ceiling as he lay motionless with his arm draped across his forehead. He was slipping further down the rabbit hole of Savagery and tonight hadn’t helped him.
They’d driven for at least an hour before finally stopping. Before removing him from the trunk, they pulled the sack off his head but kept the blindfold on until they stood outside the back door of a small nightclub. Killean never glimpsed a license plate or the name of the club before the door opened and he was led inside.
He’d been brought to the club to hunt, and with Joseph and two other Savages monitoring his every move, he had to kill. It was what they expected of him; it was why he was here. And if he didn’t kill someone, then they would destroy him, and Simone would be lost.
Seething with resentment, Killean stalked the fifty or so patrons of the club in search of one who would fit some of the criteria he’d used for his other victims. After an hour, he witnessed a man slip something into a woman’s drink, but unlike his other victims, he knew nothing else about the man. It had to have been a drug the man used; hehadto have been planning to rape the woman, but Killean didn’t know for sure.
However, it wasn’t guilt plaguing him as he swung his legs off the edge of the cot and planted his feet on the floor to sit up; it was his lack of remorse that bothered him. It didn’t help that hunger was beginning to churn in his gut again.
Killean’s hands gripped the metal edge of the cot as he took a deep breath and shoved himself to his feet. The only furniture in the room was the cot with its pillow and a thin, wool blanket. The room was nothing more than an eight by eight cell with concrete walls that felt like they were closing in on him with every passing minute.
Reclaiming the jeans he’d tossed on the floor beside the shirt, Killean dressed and opened the heavy, steel door. He poked his head into the hall and glanced up and down the nearly two-hundred-foot-long corridor. About fifty closed doors lined both sides of the hall; Joseph’s cronies filled many of those rooms.
No one had told him to stay in his room when he was brought there earlier. He saw no reason to remain when he might be able to learn more about this place while everyone else was in their room or elsewhere.
Stepping into the hall, he closed the door on room number twenty-two before striding down the corridor. Beneath his bare feet, the concrete floor was cold, and he made no sound as he walked. He waited for doors to open or for someone to stop him, but no one did.
He still had no idea where they were located, but he believed this to be a bomb shelter or bunker of some sort. Whether it was built years ago, or Joseph and his organization recently constructed it, Killean didn’t know.
In the middle of the corridor, Killean stopped at the open doorway leading into the main hall where the prisoners were chained. He should stay away from Simone until he had a better chance of getting her out of here, but he found himself irresistibly drawn across the threshold and into the hall beyond.
He glanced down the row of hunters, and his eyes settled on Simone. She had her knees against her chest and her cheek resting on them as her chained hands remained above her on the wall. The man beside her shifted, and his head rose. When his white-blue eyes locked on Killean, his mouth parted.
Killean wanted to go straight to Simone, but knowing cameras were probably focused on him, he walked over to the first hunter and knelt in front of the man who recoiled as far as he could get. Killean inspected the man before moving onto the next who snapped and lunged at him.
He made his way slowly down the line, inspecting each hunter as he went. His excitement grew the closer he got to Simone. Most of the hunters cowered from him, a few showed no reaction, and the rest tried to attack him. He kept expecting a Savage to come and pull him away, but no one did. Though, he had a feeling they were monitoring his every move.
He paused at one of the hunter women before Simone and cupped her cheek. When she turned her head away from him and whimpered, Killean quickly lowered his hand. The woman had endured enough without having to suffer his unwanted touch, but he hadn’t wanted to touch her. Hedidwant to touch Simone though, and he had to set a precedent before he reached her and did so. He touched two more women who lunged at him with their fangs snapping.
And then, finally, he was in front of her. Anger filled him as he gazed at her slender frame, dirt-streaked countenance, and dirty hair.
You’ve seen her. She’s fine. Go before someone finds you here.
