Ember's Curse (Prime Wolf) (17 page)

The hollow clicking of her high heel shoes echoed in the darkness. I saw an orange glow flashing off the narrow stonewalls before she emerged from the tunnel. I fixed my eyes on her and nodded. "You're right," the words whispered out of my mouth. "It has been obvious to me all this time what a bitch you are."

The slap across my face stung and made my ears ring. It was worth all the pain though. Now that I'd decided to free myself somehow and take the pack from them, all bets were off. I could say whatever I wanted to this weak heifer now. Well, I guess I should keep my mouth shut long enough to figure out an escape plan.

Collin gnashed his teeth and growled a warning, "If you expect me to do as you request, your mate needs to keep her fucking hands off of mine."

"Syl, move away from her. Now isn't the time for your petty jealousies," Tommy said.

Sylvia sucked in a breath and practically spat, "I'm not jealous of her," she said offended.

"Whatever. Did you bring it?" he asked.

She walked over to Tommy and shoved something into his free hand. He then handed the gun to her. Her grip on it was a bit shaky, but she soon got used to the weight and it steadied. The smile that spread across her face was cold and calculating. You could tell she was enjoying this way too much.

"If this mutt moves at all, shoot her."

"With pleasure," she smirked.

"I should have challenged you for this pack years ago."

"Yes, Ember. Maybe you should have. But a prime female hasn't held an Alpha position in this pack since your great Grandmother. And just like my father before me, I will never let a wolf bitch hold it again. No matter what the cost”.

"So that's what this is all about? Your precious male ego?"

"It has nothing to do with ego. Just common sense. Females are weaker than men, in all definitions. I'm actually keeping this pack safe. Even if it comes at the price of one or two of our own."

I spat on the floor, barely missing his polished black loafers. "You disgust me!"

"Well, dear cousin. You're nothing to me."

With a wicked grin, Tommy opened a small grey case. He pulled out a syringe filled with a red liquid.

"Don't worry this won't hurt for too long, just a day or two."

He grabbed Collin and shoved the needle into the blue pulsing vein at the crook of his arm.

"What the fuck are you doing to him?" I screamed.

I heard the sound of metal grinding against metal, followed by a "click". Sylvia had pulled back the gun’s hammer. I was getting to the point of not giving a shit if I lived or died through this. Nothing mattered without Collin. Tommy recognized the look in my eyes for what it was. A look of pure rage, and if he was smart at all, he would get the fuck away from my mate. I was about to tackle the bitch holding the gun on me until I heard Collin slam to the floor. Red liquid began foaming out of his mouth and his body started to convulse.

"Oh my God! Help him!" I skidded to my knees by his side.

"Collin!" Collin!

He wasn't hearing me. What felt like a linebacker slammed in to my shoulder. I fell to the floor face to face with my mate. Streams of blurry colors passed before my eyes.

"What the hell were you thinking, Sylvia? We need her alive."

The background noise faded away and everything went black.

***

The smell of blood and feces permeated the air. A rush of pain wracked my body and I had to swallow down the bile in my throat to stop myself from throwing up. My shoulder blazed like fire from pain. I could hear music playing faintly in the background, some kind of jazz or blues. I couldn't tell which, my thoughts were too fuzzy. It was a sickly sweet melody either way.

Still, all I could think of was Collin.
Collin, where are you?
I sent to him down our psychic path. A frenetic buzz shooting back at me was my only answer.

"It's the remaining traces of silver still poisoning your blood stream. I tried to convince Tommy to leave it in your body, but he said he still has plans for you. So I guess you get to live. That is, if we got the bullet out in time."

A cold hand touched my back and I felt a tug on the zipper of my dress. "I might not be able to take your life. But your dignity? That's another story entirely."

Sylvia yanked my dress off my shoulders, purposefully hard where the gunshot wound was, and stripped me of it. I could feel the blood seeping from my body. I shivered from the loss of it and my clothes. I was weakened from the silver and couldn't focus my eyes on any one thing. I listened for her voice to see what was going to happen next, but the psychopath kept quiet. I tried to stay conscious, but my battered body had other ideas.

***

If there was one thing I knew about a crazy person, it was that if you didn't give them anything to play with, then chances were, they would go away and leave you alone. I was banking on this theory ever since I woke up and heard someone breathing not too far away from me. I'd been playing possum for the last ten minutes or so as it stood, but unfortunately, my beliefs weren't ringing true.

"I know you're awake. You can open your eyes."

When I finally answered the tiny voice, I did so calmly. On the inside, I was screaming bloody murder; I was consumed by hatred. Not toward the little boy, no older than seven years old, huddled in the corner wearing torn and dirty clothes. No, my fury lay at the hands of the sick fucks that put him in here. The boy was very thin. A dingy, white T-shirt and sweat pants hung loosely on his body. His eyes, which were a chocolate brown, stayed focused on the ground.

"What is your name, child?" I asked while scanning the cell I was imprisoned in. It was one of many cells lined in a row, all next to each other, and on both sides of the room. I counted twenty in total, and almost all of them were full of people, mostly werewolves, and a couple of vampires.

The boy shifted uncomfortably. His little fingers fumbled with the drawstrings that hung loosely from his pants.

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. "I don't have one," he said simply.

I stood up to go to him. I wanted to somehow make him feel better, to take away some of the sadness in his eyes, but soon realized it was a bad idea.

I vaguely remembered that bitch, Sylvia, stealing my clothes, leaving me completely naked. I couldn't wait to get my claws on her, and now that I had some, my fangs as well. I grabbed the sheet off my bunk and wrapped it around myself. The smell that came off it was rank. I took a second to curse my hybrid senses. What I wouldn't give for a normal human’s smelling abilities, or lack thereof, right about now. I smelled blood, semen, and unwashed bodies...the combination was horrific.

I focused on my wolf and tried to bring her forth, but she just slunk away from me.
What the...?
I thought. With more effort, I tried to shift again. Still nothing.

"Are you okay?" asked the boy. "You keep making a funny scrunch face."

I gave it a final go, but just like before. Nothing. Just an odd tingling feeling that ran up and down my entire body.

"I'm fine, little one. I'm just having problems shifting."

"Oh," he said shaking his head, "no one’s allowed to use their powers. The silvers say so."

I had no clue what he meant by that. "What’s the silvers?"

"That's the silvers. They stop you from changing."

He pointed to the top of our cell and then to the bars that surrounded us. His fingers were slim, too slim for a child his age. They should have still held a hint of baby fat, making them soft and chubby. But instead, they were almost skeletal.

I reached over and touched the bar that was closest to me. I immediately snatched my fingers back. It had burned them on contact, proof positive that they were indeed lined with silver. Hmmm. That would explain how Tommy was able to hold so many supernatural beings prisoner down here in this makeshift dungeon. Well, at least the werewolves anyways. Vampires couldn't give two shits about the metal that sapped a wolf’s strength. It did nothing to them.

"I hope your accommodations are to your liking," came a voice, which raised the hair on the back of my neck, from the stairway. I squinted to try to see through the darkness. The shadows hid a lot, but thanks to my nocturnal sight, I could make him out. The guy was tall with a medium build. He had one hand stuffed in his pocket while he used the other one to bring a cigarette up to his mouth. He took a long draw off it then puckered his lips, blowing several smoke circles in the air.

"Where's Collin?" I demanded. I wasn't interested in playing this strangers game. My only concern was for my mate. My heart stung at the remembered image of him seizing on the floor. He couldn't be dead. I would know if he was dead. I would know only because there was no way my heart could still be beating otherwise.

"Your precious mate is okay...for now." He pushed himself off the wall and lazily strolled down the hall.

"The name’s Tyson, if you were wondering," he said, running his fingers over the cell's bars, all of them full of prisoners, as he walked closer to mine. The way he took his time about it, making sure to stare down all the people in the cells as he passed, told me a lot about him. He was a cruel and arrogant bastard and for some reason, he was interested in me.

"Does the cat have your tongue?" Tyson asked, stopping in front of me. I inhaled deeply and over all the other funk in the room, I smelled vampire. Because of the competing odors, I couldn't tell how old he was. My nose had a special knack for pinpointing a vampire’s age. I can only describe the smell as having different degrees of heat and copper. I believe, but am not entirely sure, that the heat that burns my nose indicates the level of power they wield and the copper the strength of their blood.

"What do you suppose I say?" I stepped a few paces back. The sheet I held around my body dragged on the floor, collecting dirt and grime. He watched my feet as I moved away from him and a creepy smile slid across his dark face. Everything about this guy screamed of darkness. His hair, his almost black eyes. He even wore a black leather jacket with chains looping all around the bottom of it. A set of keys hung from one of its silver rings.

"Do you want these? They are the keys to your freedom." He reached down and jingled them at me teasingly. His eyes roamed over my body and halted at my exposed cleavage. "I'll tell you what. You give me a little something nice and I can try to get you in to see your mate." The vile man licked his lips and grabbed his crotch. He squeezed it a couple times and smirked. "Small price to pay really. Not to mention, I'm going to be sampling your goods either way."

An overwhelming heat infused my body and a growl erupted from my very core. Everything around me turned red and my nails grew into sharp claws. It was happening again. The silver sapped my wolven powers but it couldn't affect my vampire side. And this vamp was pissed.

"Just try and come near me with your puny dick and see what happens to the little fellow." I dropped the sheet and prowled straight up to the bars. Facing him, I wrapped my fists around the silver bars. My eyes caught his glare and for the first time since he arrived, I saw the coward that he really was shining in them. I could break him in half with barely any effort if not for these bars keeping me from him and he knew it. I tried to pull them apart but they wouldn't budge. I growled and threw my head back in frustration. When he saw I couldn't break through, the cocky grin reappeared. But I did notice he was several feet farther back from me now. The submissive gesture earned me some satisfaction.

"You're a wily one, aren't you?" he said over a chuckle. "Tommy told me that you were different from your prime kin. But I'm positive that he doesn't know how different you really are," he rubbed his chin and stared at me like a prized pig. "You will be the first sacrificed to the Darkin."

"What do you know of the Darkin?" I spat out at him. My vampire was still in control and she was out for blood.

Tyson pulled the keys off his jacket and fumbled with them until he found the one he was looking for. He opened the cell next to mine and walked inside. A female wolf was sleeping on her cot in the corner. He yanked her up by her dirty hair and dragged her back out through the doorway. The woman's fear hit me like a battering ram...she was a member of my pack. It was Donna Vance, the missing female wolf, from the massacre at my apartment building. He tossed her to ground in front of me and I rushed to her. Dried up blood crusted the hair at her temple. There was a deep gash underneath all the matted mess. She looked at me with vacant eyes. "Please don't hurt me anymore," she pleaded to me. She put her trembling hand in front of her face and crumpled down into a ball.

"Donna, it's me...Ember. I won't hurt you, Sweetheart." I reached through the bars to touch her face. I wanted to bring her into my arms but was helpless to do so. Before the tips of my fingers could even graze the side of her battered face, Tyson yanked her up against him.

"Get your hands off her, you piece of shit!" I roared at him.

His mouth opened wide and long white fangs slid out from his gums. He tilted Donna’s head to the side roughly. She let out a small whimper but remained as still as possible. "This one is my personal, bitch," he said touching his tongue to her neck. "Put your hand on my cock," he whispered into her ear. He kept his eyes on me the whole time. "Yes Master," her words, that she barely had the breath to use, staggered out.