Blood Hunt (41 page)

She struggled through her confusion, trying to figure out where she was.

Her situation came rushing back to her. The fight. Logan and Nicholas pinned under the tree branch. The pale, disgusting demon had grabbed her. The moment of strength she’d felt when she’d flung that furry wolf monster had disappeared, leaving her weak and shaking. She’d barely been able to dislodge the fiery whip, leaving Logan at least a hope of escaping.

The ringing in her ears started to fade and she began to hear more than her own rapid heartbeat. There were voices nearby, but her eyes couldn’t see more than blurry shapes surrounded by strange auras. The colors swirling around these people were dull, muted. Thick black tendrils wound through them, cutting off even the faintest flicker of hope before it could grow.

Slowly, her vision cleared, allowing her to see a group of mostly naked women sitting around a large black hole of nothingness. The aura of a powerful Synestryn.

That nothingness rose and came toward her, parting the group of women as he passed.

Hope shoved herself upright, but she was too weak to stand. She craned her neck up, staring at one of the most disgusting things she’d ever seen. He had patchy skin that was part human, part reptile. His teeth looked like they’d been filed to points. He had only three fingers on each hand, and they were tipped with thick, yellow claws. Maliciousness hung in his aura like a trophy, adding festering spots to the evil blackness that surrounded him.

He stared down at her, his posture screaming victorious arrogance. “You’re awake. Just in time.”

“Who the hell are you?” she asked, her voice weaker than she would have liked.

“My name is Krag, but you will call me Master.”

She forced out a harsh laugh. “Wow. Been watching a lot of B movies lately?”

He jerked her to her feet, bringing her up to his face, so close she could smell rotting meat on his breath. “You will kneel before me. You will worship me. I am the master of all that you see, and you are in my sight.”

“Not for long.”

“We shall see.”

His touch made her stomach roil in protest. His claws dug into the tender skin under her arm.

The desire to fight him off raged through her, but she was so weak, she could barely keep her knees from buckling. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her, but whatever it was, she had to get over it. Now.

Her head became too heavy to hold up and it slumped limply toward her chest.

“None of that now,” said Krag. “I want you awake and alert for what’s next.”

Whatever it was, Hope was certain she wanted no part in it. This monster was rotten from the core out, infecting everyone near him with the same malignance.

She was not going to let him do to her whatever it was he’d done to these women. She was going to escape and take as many of these people with her as she could. Right after she was able to stand up under her own power.

His scaly, reptilian fingers cupped her chin, shoving her head up. Her eyes struggled to focus across the dimly lit space. The building was huge—larger than she could see. Steel I beams supported the ceiling, which was easily twenty feet up. Large, industrial lights hung down, but they were off. The only light in the space came from dozens of candles scattered throughout. They sat on defunct workbenches and conveyor belts. Several giant wooden spools had been set up to act as tables. They were covered in pounds of melted wax and hundreds of spent candles.

Based on the dusty machinery and air-powered tools hanging above rows of benches, Hope guessed that this place had once been a factory of some kind.

Sitting in the middle of all of it was an ornate throne that looked like a movie prop. It was painted a gaudy gold and set up on a raised platform. Flanking it were wrought iron candelabras that were as tall as she was. Blood red candles burned bright, casting a wavering glow over the dozen or so women lounging on the chilly concrete floor.

Her first thought was that he could have at least given his harem a few pillows or something.

Beyond the throne she was able to make out vague shapes slinking around in the shadows. Some of them appeared human, but her eyes were too fuzzy to tell for sure. What she did know was that some of them were definitely
not
human. Their eerie green eyes, black auras, and glow-in-the-dark yellow saliva gave them away.

Part of her was scared out of her mind, but the rest of her was taking everything in, searching for a way out of this mess.

“Nice place,” she quipped. “Could use a woman’s touch though.”

Krag smiled, baring his fetid teeth. “Save your touch for my cock.”

That got through her sense of detachment. Just the thought of him looking at her in a sexual way made her stomach churn. “Pardon me while I throw up on your cloven hooves.”

He shook her hard, jarring her teeth. “You will learn obedience. So will our children.”

Children?

Hope shrank away from that thought, unable to process it. There was no way she’d let him touch her like that. She’d die first, even if she had to take her own life.

“Ah. Now I know how to reach you,” he said. “Good.” He looked toward the shadows and ordered, “Bring them out.”

A moment later, a man who appeared human walked away and came back with two more people. Their hands were bound behind their backs and their clothes were dirty and torn. There was something familiar about them, but in the darkness, with them a hundred feet away, she couldn’t tell who they were.

Hope squinted, trying to make them out. Finally, her eyes cleared up enough that she could see them. Rory’s pink hair was brown with filth, but her pretty face was unmistakable. As was Sister Olive’s.

The floor seemed to evaporate. Hope’s legs gave way in shock. Her head pounded. Sweat broke out over her skin.

This monster had her friends, her sweet, innocent friends. There would be no limits to what a monster like Krag would do to them. A sense of bleak, hopeless despair washed over her. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to save them, which meant only one thing.

Krag had won.

Chapter 28

L
ogan pushed the vehicle to travel as fast as he dared over the backcountry roads.

Nicholas let out a stifled noise of pain, but Logan heard it anyway. He couldn’t imagine how much the Theronai had to be suffering right now with his horrible burns.

“I wish I could aid you,” said Logan.

“I’ll be fine,” he hissed. “Just find Hope.”

If Nicholas was in any shape to drive, Logan may have been able to help him, but his sword was still seared inside his grip, and based on the rate at which his heart was beating, his ability to focus on the road would have been dangerously limited.

“I will help you as soon as I can.”

“I know, man. Just drive. I’ll call for backup.”

“Will they reach us in time?” asked Logan, knowing Nicholas had access to the location of all Sentinel vehicles on his phone.

“We’re spread pretty thin. I’m calling Joseph now to get him and any other men there to hop on the chopper.”

The invisible pull Hope had on him seemed to be getting stronger, which meant they were getting closer. He guessed she’d stopped moving.

Logan could feel sunrise creeping up on him. Already there was a faint gray glow in the sky warning him of the approaching danger. He couldn’t drive any faster or they’d slide off the road. At least there was no traffic to impede their progress.

He took the next exit, hoping it would bring him closer to Hope’s location. He had no idea which way the roads would go once he left the highway. He’d have to slow down, but he hoped that what he lost in speed he’d make up in distance by taking a more direct route.

They sped through a small town that was still sleeping. Past that was where he felt Hope the strongest, north of them. He barely noticed the buildings, nor did he care. His whole focus was on that faint connection he had to the woman he loved.

Just the thought of seeing her again, of smelling her skin and feeling her warmth, was enough to calm his nerves. He would find her. And once he did, he’d find a way to save her, help or not.

Nicholas groaned quietly, followed by a speeding of his pulse. He was used to pain, but this was different. The physical damage done to his body tonight was great. Logan hadn’t healed any of it but the bleeding.

“I don’t know how much good I’m going to be in a fight,” said Nicholas.

“I’ll heal you as soon as we find her.”

“As much as I like that idea, I think you might be better off just taking my blood and going after her solo.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m covered in blood. They’ll smell me as soon as we get close.”

“You carry spare clothes, do you not?”

“Sure, but—”

“But nothing. We’ll toss your bloody clothes out as a distraction. It will draw them away from Hope’s location, giving us time to free her and get out.”

“I’m digging the positive thinking thing you’ve got going here. Most of your kind would have jumped on my offer of blood.”

“Most of my kind don’t need your sword to free the woman they—” He stopped himself before he said something he’d regret.

“The woman they what?”

“You misheard me.”

“Bullshit I did. You love her. No shame in that.”

No shame in love, perhaps, but certainly there was shame in choosing a woman over his duty to his people. Hope didn’t need his love. There were others who could love her better than he. Thinking otherwise would simply make him a selfish, reckless fool. “You wouldn’t say that if you thought she was one of your own.”

“No, but she’s not. She’s yours. Anyone with eyes could see it in the way she looks at you.”

Logan wanted that to be true. Part of him wanted to believe that there was something real between them, but the rest of him knew it didn’t matter how she felt. They couldn’t be together. He couldn’t put his own selfish needs above the survival of his people. No matter how much he loved her.

Regret burned hot in his gut, making his words come out clipped and angry. “We will not speak of this again. We need to concentrate on getting her back.”

“Fine. Have it your way. If you’ve got a plan, I’m all ears.”

They were getting closer. The SUV sailed over some railroad tracks and suddenly, he could feel Hope on his left. He’d just passed her.

Logan kept going another mile before he pulled over. He turned around in his seat and looked at Nicholas. The man was pale and sweating. His right hand was blackened around the hilt of his weapon, red and blistered everywhere else. Repairing that damage wasn’t going to be easy.

“Give me your left arm,” he told the Theronai.

Nicholas offered up his wrist. Logan shoved his coat up, baring his vein.

“Take a deep breath,” said Logan as he brought the other man’s wrist to his mouth. “This is going to hurt.”

 

Logan was getting closer. Hope could feel that familiar sunlight warmth he caused glowing along her skin.

She silently screamed for him to stay away, pleading with him not to come here. There were too many monsters here, too many humans under Krag’s control. They would hurt him, use him against her, and then they’d kill him.

She couldn’t stand the thought of being the cause of his pain and death. She wanted him alive and happy, healing people and sticking his nose into their business.

What about all the happy couples he had yet to help create? If he came here, those people may never meet each other, may never fall in love.

Krag dragged her across the concrete floor, mostly carrying her. Hope’s legs still weren’t working right, and she was starting to wonder if the pounding in her skull was due to an injury she’d sustained while being brought here.

She couldn’t remember much about the trip—just the cold and being jostled so hard she thought her teeth would fall out. The creature who’d carried her had no regard for her comfort. He ran inhumanly fast, sloshing her about as he leapt over any obstacle in his path.

Maybe she had a concussion from all the jarring her brain had suffered. That would explain a lot.

For some reason, believing that made her feel better. A concussion was normal. Human. There was nothing magical about it. She just had to grit her teeth and get through this. So what if her movements were clumsy and her vision sucked? She’d get better. She just had to hold herself together long enough to regain her strength and get out of this mess.

Krag had no idea that she got those odd bursts of power. She’d bide her time and use it against him when he thought her weak.

Maybe if she killed him, all of these poor people under his control would snap out of it.

He let go of her arm and she slumped to the floor, unable to hold herself up. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and craned her neck back.

Sister Olive stood there, tears running down her sooty cheeks. Fuzzy strands of hair had worked their way free of her bun, and her clothing was singed in spots. Her mouth was moving in quiet prayer.

Rory stood next to her, the set of her jaw defiant. She glared at Krag. Her dark eyes glittered with the promise of vengeance. The muscles in her arms shifted as she tested the strength of her bonds.

Krag let go of Hope, and reached out to stroke Rory’s face. She bit him. He jerked his scaly hand back, and she spit onto the floor.

Black blood leaked from the bite wound. Krag held his three-fingered hand close to his body and struck her across the face with the other hand. Her head whipped around so hard Hope cried out for her friend, worried he’d broken Rory’s neck.

That noise was a mistake.

Krag turned around slowly, a grin showing off sharp, pointed teeth. “You do care for the humans. Excellent. That will make this so much more enjoyable.”

Anger and fear collided inside her, mashing together in an ugly, rancid pile in her stomach. “Don’t you dare touch them again.”