Beneath a Blood Moon (22 page)

I sighed, and digging through my limited knowledge of Shakespeare, I replied, “Hell is empty and all of the devils are here.”

Kent grabbed my jaw in a bruising grip. “You will cease your prattling.”

“You’ll never be man enough for me,” I snarled, my gaze fixed on his neck while I imagined the sweet heat of his blood on my tongue. I licked my lips at the thought of tearing my teeth through his soft flesh. Adrenaline surged through me, and my breath quickened in anticipation of the hunt.

“Don’t miss even a second of this, Brandy,” the sorcerer ordered.

“I know how to operate a camera,” the witch snapped.

“I told you I’d replace your wolf, Brandy. I’ll find a nicer one for you to seduce and play with. I will not apologize to you again.”

I breathed deeply, savoring Brandy’s rage. The heat of the sorcerer’s lust stung my nose, but instead of enticing me as the other males’ scents had done, it fueled my anger.

“Understood,” the witch muttered. “Don’t worry. I’ll record it properly.”

“Good.” Turning his full attention to me, Kent ran his hands down my legs, squeezing and fondling me as he worked his way to the cuffs binding my ankles. “I’m going to enjoy this, bitch. I’m going to enjoy the moment he sees what’s on this video and hears your cries when I pleasure you.”

The only pleasure I was going to enjoy was the moment I broke his body and left him a corpse at my feet. I reached upward, hissing at the burn of silver. The chain dug into my palms. Pain throbbed through me, and determined not to lose the one chance I had for my vengeance, I tightened my hold.

It would be no different from climbing a pole. It would be no different from when I lifted my body during a dance, except this time, I would be killing someone instead of teasing my audience. After unclipping one of the chains binding me to the floor, he worked on the other, leaving the leather cuffs in place around my ankles. I stood still, hanging my head as though resigned to my fate.

He laughed. “All talk, aren’t you? You’re just too weak and tired to fight me with anything other than words.”

Sighing, I mumbled something under my breath and forced out a single whine.

Rising to his feet, the sorcerer stared at me, stepping out of my reach. “You could make this so much easier for yourself. Agree to be my woman. I will please you as no other man can. I will teach you things about your body you never knew were possible.” His smile widened into a grin. “I’ll teach you some of what I can do anyway; I will make you lust for what I alone can provide.”

“Wouldn’t you need to have a dick to do that?” I asked.

Rage twisted his expression, and raising a hand to hit me, he stepped forward.

I lifted my left leg so I could slam my foot into Kent’s shoulder. Agony rippled through my shoulders and spine, and I cried out from the pain. Hooking my foot around his neck, I brought my right knee up to my chest and kicked out with all of my strength.

My heel crunched into his jaw, and with all of my anger and bloodlust behind the blow, I forced his head to snap to the side. Bone broke with an audible crunch. The metallic, sweet scent of blood filled my nose, and a heartbeat later, red bubbled from the sorcerer’s mouth.

He fell limp, and so did I.

Brandy laughed, and her mirth roused me. Shaking my head did little to ease the ringing in my ears. Spinning in a circle, the witch wound up and slammed the camera to the ground.

Streams of water materialized in the air around her and spiraled towards the ceiling to fall to the floor in a cool rain. The sorcerer’s body still twitching on the ground at my feet was the only indication I hadn’t blacked out for long. I panted, staring at the woman as she rejoiced.

When she noticed me watching her, she leapt to me, grabbed hold of my face, and kissed me long and deep. In my shock, I didn’t fight her, though my eyes widened as I struggled to comprehend what she was doing and why.

Unlike the sorcerer, her mouth was warm and gentle against mine, and the scent of her passion filled my nose.

“My freedom buys you your life. You will drown, but you will live. You will remain here, in a sea of my making.” Brandy ran her hands down me and kneeled to grab hold of my feet. Breaking free of the shock that held me immobile, I kicked out at her.

Water surrounded my legs and trapped me in place while the witch clipped the cuffs back to the floor.

“Let me go,” I demanded in a wheeze. I struggled to catch my breath, and my lungs burned as though someone had filled them with cotton.

“It’ll be better for you if you relax.” Straightening, Brandy pressed her fingertips to my lips. “Your life is all I owe you. Your life is all I’m willing to give. It’s an equal trade. I will pray earnestly we do not meet again. I would rather not have to kill you. Who knows? Maybe your Alpha cares for you enough to find you at the bottom of my sea. Then again, maybe not. Time will tell.”

The witch left nothing but water and death in her wake.

Chapter Eleven

I drowned, but as Brandy had promised, I didn’t die.

Time lost meaning as I drifted in the water, still bound to the floor and ceiling, unable to pull free of the cuffs. Silver chains drifted in invisible currents, sliding over my skin with the stinging bite of jellyfish tentacles.

Before Brandy had flooded the basement, the chains had formed a curtained cage to contain me and keep the males away, torturing them so the sorcerer could harvest their fury, their lust, and their pain. Now the silver served to torture me and to remind me I lived.

She had kept her promise to me, but I wondered if the silver would kill me before my wolf and I starved. Brandy’s laughter still rang in my ears. If my bad luck held out, the silver would torment me for at least a month before I finally succumbed.

If I were fortunate, Fenerec died faster from starvation than humans. I had a feeling they didn’t. Fenerec were difficult to kill. I remembered my wolf’s viciousness when she—when we—had killed Rory and Isabella.

Brandy had kept her promise, but instead of a quick, merciful death, she left me to die a slow and miserable one. The other Fenerec had drowned. Their lifeless bodies drifted, still tethered to the floor where they had died. In death, they made better company than they had in life, though I found no satisfaction in their demise. I hoped some of them had belonged to Rory’s pack. I hoped their Alpha suffered for turning me into a monster.

My anger once again surged, and I flexed my hands, tugging at the cuffs holding my arms over my head. Even with my wolf offering me her strength, I couldn’t rip out of the waterlogged, leather cuffs. I tore the skin of my wrists until my blood tainted the water; its taste teased my tongue before the currents swept it away.

The dim illumination from the flooded stairwell let me watch the sorcerer’s lifeless corpse drift in the water nearby. I had won, killing the man responsible for Mary’s death, but he, like the rogue Fenerec, would bear silent witness to my slow demise. I had ensured Sanders would be mine, no longer burdened with the knowledge Mary’s killer remained free, but I would pay for it with my life—and likely with the lives of many others.

Because of me, Brandy had power, and a lot of it. No one had told me killing a sorcerer could twist a witch into a monster as dangerous as me. Because of me, she had all the power she needed to strike out at the Inquisition and at my mate.

It wasn’t freedom Brandy had desired, but revenge.

I understood why she kept me alive. It wasn’t as thanks. She wanted me to know my mate’s death would come at her hands. He was part of the Inquisition she hated, and she knew it. That made me as much of a target as him. A quick death was too good for me.

My wolf despaired, as did I.

With nothing but the flow of water and corpses for company, time lost meaning. I tried to count the seconds, but with every brush of a silver chain, my thoughts scattered, and I shook from the pain. The water in my throat and lungs silenced my cries. The thin silk of my dress clung to me, tangling around my legs and holding me prisoner as much as the cuffs.

With each new silver burn, my strength faded until I couldn’t even try to scream, my body as limp and unresponsive as the corpses keeping me company.

I closed my eyes and waited for death to claim me.

I woke vomiting water.

Someone held me upright while I choked and spluttered, convulsions rippling through me. My first breath burned in my throat and scorched my lungs. I wheezed. My arms were held over my head in a gentle but firm grip. Hands massaged my shoulders.

Every instinct I had demanded I fight, but the effort of breathing took all my strength. My wolf panicked when I couldn’t even lift my head.

I considered it a victory I was able to open my eyes. My vision was blurry, but gradually focused on the concrete basement floor. Puddles of water reflected men and women standing over me.

I didn’t recognize any of them, neither by sight nor scent. Fear tightened my throat.

Pain blossomed through arms and shoulders as my hands were lowered. I clenched my teeth so I wouldn’t scream.

“Almost done,” a woman murmured in my ear. “Easy, Miss. It’ll stop hurting soon. Your joints and muscles are stiff. Try to relax. It’ll help.”

With my wolf on the brink of panic, I doubted I could control her for long, let alone obey the stranger’s absurd demand to relax. My wolf wanted to howl her fury at being captive, but when I drew a breath, raspy coughs tore through me.

One of the reflections approached, solidifying into a man. He took hold my chin and lifted my head. My attention fixed on his nose, which was slightly crooked as though it had been broken too many times without being set. His eyes narrowed to slits, hiding their color.

“Doesn’t match any of the descriptions of missing women in the area,” he announced, scowling. “Wrong hair color, and they’re Normals. She’s no Normal, considering those burns.”

“I have a nose and know how to use it, Dustin. Her hair has been dyed,” the woman replied. Someone tugged at my head and grabbed a handful of my hair. I sniffed at the air.

All my nose detected was the bite of silver, the hint of rot, and water.

“Dye,” the man echoed. “Recent?”

“Recent enough. Shit job,” she answered. “It’s still bleeding out. See?”

I vaguely remembered the sorcerer dyeing my hair red to cover my blonde and blue. I growled, struggling to turn my head so I could pull free of the man’s hold on me.

His grip tightened. “What’s your name, bitch?”

My wolf wanted me to bite him, and while she tempted me, I resisted the urge. Snarling with every exhale, I calculated my odds of escaping. Someone held me from behind, one arm wrapped around my chest to keep me upright.

“Perhaps you should try reassuring her before you interrogate her,” the woman said, her tone amused. “I’d also like to remind you of something. Your hand is near her teeth, and considering how we found her, once she recovers enough to fight, she might take a few chunks out of you. I would be quite pleased to note how rough you’re being with her in my report.”

The man let me go, backing away several paces. “Fine, Holly. You figure out which pack she belongs to so we can call in her Alpha. Can’t just let a silver-burned Fenerec run loose.”