“He used to take me out to the barn,” I tell him. “Mother would always have the tub filled with warm water for me afterwards and would plead with me to behave. I never did.” I smirk.
Morbius looks down at the ground, lost in thought. He blinks, and it’s as if someone has flicked a switch. He gets to his feet and dusts himself off. “I must prepare for our guests. I’m sure they’ll be barreling through those doors any moment.” He grins, turning on his heel. He claps his hands. Three vessels come scurrying out. “We have guests arriving shortly. Prepare the banquet table,” he orders.
They don’t speak, scurrying off. As if a bolt of lightning had struck my spine, a jolt of excruciating pain ruptures through me. I arch my back, a feral scream tearing from my lungs. “Ah, not too long now, brother. Not long at all,” Morbius cheers as he leaves the room.
I watch him go. Once, my brother, and now I no longer recognised the monster he has become.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LILITH
Clutch walksalong the main wall by Velmora. “What are you looking for?” I ask.
“Silas’s phone. Aha! Here it is.” He bends down, holding out Silas’s phone for me to take.
I look from the phone to him. “Why would I want it?” I ask.
“Well, you two are, you know…” He shrugs. “Feeding the kitty, checking the oil, riding the bony pony,” Clutch gestures, thrusting his hips while wiggling his eyebrows at me.
“You were dropped on your head as a child, weren’t you?” Evelynn comments beside me.
“Alright, jeez, doll, no need to be so mean. I’ll keep hold of it for your man,” he says, sliding it into his back pocket.
“He isn’t my man,” I counter.
“My bad, I read the room wrong,” Clutch says, holding up his hands.
“If you have all stopped plaiting each other’s hair, can we please make our way inside this hell to get our brother out before we lose him for good?” Lucian snaps. “If it’s not too much trouble,” he adds sarcastically.
Clutch makes a swipe across his mouth, as if fastening a zip. I roll my eyes and shake my head. Even in the most desperate of situations, he always manages to make light of things.
As the castle looms before us, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. We are walking into hell with no plan, no backup, nothing but ourselves and our basic weapons. I don’t have any of mine with me. Thankfully, Cain gave me one of his blades. But there must be hundreds, if not more, vessels in there that could tear us limb from limb at Morbius’s command.
The huge doors open before us, creaking loudly, old and ancient. Evelynn grips my hands firmly in hers. “In the hall to the right,” I instruct. We move, not at speed, but in slow, measured steps. Their eyes graze over every inch, inspecting every possible threat. My gaze is fixed on the doorway ahead, knowing what’s around that corner; what I ran from.Leaving him trapped and in agony,my mind mentally chastises. I tense, bracing for it, bracing for seeing him.
We hear him before we see him; the roar he releases tears through me. Evelynn flinches as we come to a stop. I know the moment her eyes land on him. “Oh god,” she whispers, the horror cracking in her voice. The room is now bathed in candlelight, with a large banquet table in the centre. Morbius sits at the head, casually sipping his blood wine. I lurch forward, rage exploding at the sight of him so smug. Evelynn’s grip on my hand tightens, holding me back. My furious gaze snaps to her; she gives the briefest shake of her head. I grind my teeth in an effort to regain control. Lucian and the rest of the club stand there, a look of boredom etched on their faces, as if this was just any other day and their brother wasn’t chained up like some animal, thrashing and hissing in agony.
“Please, take a seat. I’ve had the chef prepare a meal,” Morbius instructs, pointing to the chairs.
“What does he mean by meal?” Evelynn whispers beside me.
“A human,” I answer. “And prepare yourself, it will be one to provoke our emotions,” I mutter.
We walk to the table, and my eyes slide to Silas. He isn’t looking in my direction, his head still cast down. We sit, Lucian positioning himself at the opposite end of the table, his murderous glare pinned on Morbius.
“Well, isn’t this nice?” Morbius grins. He claps his hands, and suddenly a sea of vessels scurry in, carrying a screaming human, bound and gagged. A young girl, no more than eighteen. Her eyes are wide with fear as she looks at us. They roughly drop her onto the centre of the table like some trussed-up pig. Her pleading, desperate gaze locks onto Evelynn and me, searching out the only women visible to her. I swallow.
“You know we don’t feast on women or children,” Lucian snarls.
“Oh no, that’s a shame. More for me, then, I guess.” Morbius shrugs, grabs her, and yanks her down the table to him. Her muffled screams and cries will haunt me for eternity as he sinks his teeth into her flesh. I keep my focus on a spot on the table, never before willing someone to hurry up and die, to silence the horrific sounds. Evelynn and I grip each other’s hands tight, taking everything in us not to react. It’s what he wants.
Soon, the only sounds are those of Morbius’s feasting. I close my eyes, willing my strength to carry me through this. Praying there is a way to get Silas out of here. Then I am going to pack up and leave, leaving behind the horrors that haunt me.
Morbius finishes his feasting and discards her body on the floor like a piece of trash. He wipes the corners of his mouth delicately with a white napkin. “That’s better. I always find I think more clearly and feel more alert after a good feed, don’t you? And there’s just something about virgin blood that dances across your palate.”
Oh God, the poor girl was so young.My gut lurches.
“What do you want, Morbius?” Lucian asks, his patience wearing thin.
