Of Blood and Sorrow Read online

  Too lost in my thoughts, in my grand sense of relief, I didn’t sense anyone near me until Hessa had her arm around my waist with her nails digging into my belly. This time, my cry contained only horror.

  No, not now. Not after everything’s that happened.

  “Move and I’ll string up your intestines for the world to see.” Hessa sneered.

  I sucked in a scream, not uttering a sound. Nicolas. Would he see what was going on and flee, or would he try to save me? Neither option pleased me, but I would rather he get away and find help than try to take on Hessa himself.

  “Good girl. The better you listen, the longer you’ll live.” A sly smile accompanied Hessa’s whisper. “We’re just going to walk away as if you’re going back to your car. Don’t worry. I’ve already taken care of that ugly piece of metal and its occupant.”

  “Nicolas.” I croaked.

  “He’s been a naughty boy, hasn’t he? He has a few lessons to learn about respect and appreciation.” Hessa led me past the stopped cars and across the grassy median. “As for you, I can’t figure it out. All these people protecting you. None would cooperate in luring you out of Lady Midday’s house. You’re just a skinny little mutt. Nothing special about you at all that I can tell.”

  There wasn’t anything special about me. I just had amazing friends.

  Another vampire waited beside a black Hummer. He opened the door, and Hessa tossed me inside. I landed hard against the far door and half-toppled over onto the floor. I scrambled up and tried to open the door. Of course it was locked.

  A way out. I had to get out of here before Hessa took me somewhere and tortured me like she did Connor. I missed him so much. A sob choked me and sounded like a snort.

  Hessa climbed into the backseat, as the other vamp hopped up on the driver’s side. I tried to jump into the front, but Hessa yanked me back. The Hummer rumbled when it turned on, and we drove toward town as the fire trucks arrived.

  “So, tell me, is there anything special about you? Are you just really great in the sack?” Hessa examined her manicured nails and crossed one leg over the other.

  The question took me back a bit. Was that really all that concerned her? Was this some sort of horrid reality show like The Real Housewives of Vampire County?

  “What? No.” I eyed the sunroof. It was latched and likely had to be opened with a push of a button. “There’s nothing special about me other than the fact I don’t kill the people who think they’re my friends.”

  “Riding the moral high horse never takes a person far. That horse has to stop and nurture itself too often and shits all over the road.” Hessa leaned back and studied me from across the large space of the vehicle. “I still don’t get why Nicolas keeps coming back to you. I gave him the gift of eternal life. I can make him rich and powerful. He can have anything he wants.”

  “Except free will.” I spat. It didn’t matter what I said. Hessa was going to kill me. I would rather it be fast than slow.

  “It’s overrated.” Hessa made a dismissive gesture. “None of us truly have it. We’re all victims of our natures. I have to feed, stay out of the sunlight. Speaking of which,” she said and held out her hand. “Your mirror of light. Now.”

  “I don’t have it.” I raised my chin, but even I didn’t feel the lie was convincing enough.

  With blurred suddenness, Hessa pounced on me and snatched the compact out of my pocket. The instant she picked it up, her fingers sizzled, and she dropped it.

  “Try to pick it up, and I’ll rip open your throat.” The vampire looked around for something to help her retrieve it. Her hand whipped out and tore the neck of my wool turtleneck off. Using it, she gingerly picked up the compact.

  I covered my throat with my hands. The world went momentarily white. I had thought Hessa was going to kill me right then. My heart beat so fast I was lightheaded and nauseated.

  “Turtlenecks. The ugliest of sweaters.” Hessa wrapped up the compact and put it in the passenger seat. “No one touches it,” she told the vamp who was driving.

  She could kill me that fast. So quick I wouldn’t even realize I was dying. Fuck. I had no chance in hell of surviving this.

  “Why don’t you just kill me now and leave me in the ditch? I’ve nothing for you.” I curled my legs up to my body and slumped against the door.

  “On the contrary, sweet girl, you do have something for me.” A slow smile graced Hessa’s red lips.

  Knowing Hessa was toying with me, I narrowed my eyes. Why not just kill me? Then it dawned on me exactly what she wanted me for. One hand gripped the top of the passenger seat and the other the back seat. They were going to take my blood, make me into drugs.

  “No.”

  “Oh yes.” Hessa chuckled, low and cruel. “At least you’re not as stupid as you look.” She reached over and snatched one of my ankles. She dragged me closer as I flailed, trying to grab hold of something, anything. “I’ll keep you alive for a little while. Just so you can watch as I punish Nicolas, and then he’ll crawl back to me, begging my forgiveness. Maybe I’ll let him play with you afterward. But in the end, he’ll be the one to kill you. As much as I would love to wrap my hands around your scrawny little neck, he’s going to be the one to do it and he’ll enjoy it.”

  I shuddered and bit my lower lip. I refused to scream.

  Because I had to see what exploded, Nicolas was in the hands of his sadistic sire. Every second of pain he suffered was because of me. But I didn’t doubt for a second he would never harm me no matter how much I deserved it. He was one of the good guys.

  “He’ll never be yours again.” The strange confidence in my tone made the vampire frown.

  I expected some snarky comeback, but there was none. I didn’t see Hessa’s hand before she slapped me across the face with such a force it knocked me unconscious.

  I woke with a start. It was no dream I was feeding on great sorrow. My whole body was hot. Never before had I fed while sleeping. Had I changed myself irrevocably when my spots turned black?

  A rotten scent slammed into my nose as I took in a deep breath. It smelled like an open sewer. No, worse. There was something more meaty on top of the stench of shit. I breathed it in again to try to pinpoint it.

  Death.

  Fuck. I tried to stand and banged my head on a… ceiling? I groaned softly and let my eyes adjust to the dimly lit room.

  Though it looked at first like I was in a small room, I realized I was surrounded by boxes and in a warehouse. I could see nothing past the boxes around me. The ceiling was high and bare. Fans slowly turned, but they neither cooled the place nor chased away the foul odor.

  Unable to see, I fed, slowly testing the sorrow. It was like a whole family of mourners. A large family. No one was in sight, but I could feel them. I cocked my head when I thought I heard a few faint moans.

  Laughing friends and happy lovers. Giggling children hugging legs. And fear. Thick and heavy horror.

  I swallowed hard, muting the memories coming with the sorrow.

  Okay. Be smart about this. I’ve watched cops get out of these sorts of situations all the time on television.

  I examined the cage. It was about four feet tall and six feet long. Too big to be a dog cage. The bars were thick and spaced far enough for me to get an arm through them. Not that it mattered. I couldn’t reach anything. It was likely a cage for wild animals, like bears or tigers.

  Next to check out me. If Hessa had injured my face, no sign remained now as I assessed the damage with my fingers. I must have been feeding a lot while I was out. Pure instinct.

  There were no clocks or windows to tell me how long it had been, but when a vampire who looked like some ’80s metal band reject stepped out from around the boxes to set a chair near my cage, I knew it was still night. Certainly not the next day.

  He gazed at me, bored. No, there was a bit of disgust there and something that tickled my demonic senses underneath it.

  I sat on my knees, tense and trying to ready myself for wha
tever was to come. I heard a groan and the dragging of feet. Metal clinked and rattled.

  Two vampires dragged Nicolas into view and forced him down on the chair. He looked in far worse shape than if he had been attacked by sharks. Zombie sharks. Only his pants remained, his uncovered skin showing off the extent of his horrible wounds. He didn’t look up, but stared blankly down at his hands, which were bound together with a length of chain. His ankles, too, were chained. The metal dug into his bare flesh.

  Hessa strolled up behind him and ran her hands through his hair, stroking him like some favored pet.

  “Nicolas here has begun to see the error of his ways.” Hessa bent down and licked a trickle of blood away from his right temple. “He’s young, confused, and frightened. I can forgive that, but he still has to prove himself.”

  Nicolas didn’t flinch away. He stayed frighteningly still. I doubted Hessa could break him so easily. I knew the truth about him. I could feel his rage stemming from his loss roiling inside of him. Though I was still feeding off all the anguish in the area, I made a point not to take any of his.

  “Since I don’t want him to kill you just yet, I thought we’d have a little fun.” Hessa motioned to one of her vampires, and he brought a long fork-like rod from behind the boxes. Hessa took it with a little smirk and pressed a small button on the end. A little crackling sound indicated it was working.

  I gasped. I couldn’t stop myself. Fuck. I didn’t know what the thing was at first, but now I had a good guess: a cattle prod.

  Hell no. I scurried to the far end of the cage.

  Hessa and the other two vampires laughed.

  “Though I think one shot with this will knock the skinny mutt out, that one shot will be worth it.” Hessa held out the prod—handle end—to Nicolas. “Make sure to get her in a delicate area, my pet.”

  Nicolas didn’t move. He slowly raised his head to look at his sire, lips thinning as he considered his options. I knew what he was thinking. It would be the same thing I would in his situation. Yet he would be stupid to try to be the hero.

  I had to save him any more suffering. “Just do it. She’s likely right. One time and I’ll be out.”

  Nicolas turned his gaze to the cage. His red-rimmed eyes told me he couldn’t do it.

  “Come on, darling. She wants you to prod her.” Hessa laughed again and pressed the handle into his hands. “You’ve been prodding her for the past couple nights anyway. One more for old time’s sake, hm?”

  He started to shake. Arms and shoulders first, and then his whole body. The two goons stood ready to grab him. One inserted himself in between Nicolas and Hessa. Hessa stepped back, smiling that wicked smile of hers.

  Nicolas slowly rose and took two steps toward the cage. He had to do it. If he didn’t, Hessa would punish him again and then force him to watch as she or one of her goons did the prodding. Instead of cringing back, I sat forward onto my hands and knees with my head down so he wouldn’t have to look me in the face as he did it.

  Just do it. I didn’t say it out loud, but I hoped he heard me somehow. Do it to save yourself.

  I still fed off the powerful grief in the warehouse. I pinpointed certain people as I had with Nicolas. The two goons—the square jawed driver and muscled rocker—were hiding a myriad of emotions. The driver was jealous and hated Nicolas, stemming from a great sense of loss which seemed to deal with Hessa. I bet he had once been her favored pet.

  The rocker was afraid of what was going on. Not of this situation in particular, but of something bigger. Something that saddened him, but fear of Hessa made him keep doing what he was ordered to do.

  Other people in the warehouse were inwardly crying. The heat of my spots started to burn. Anger, helplessness, torture. Anguish so rich I could tell many of them were dying.

  I was in a slaughterhouse. Hessa’s slaughterhouse for demons.

  The realization hit me so hard I didn’t realize how close Nicolas had gotten to the cage. He mouthed something at me, but I couldn’t tell what it was with his swollen lips.

  Nicolas exaggerated the unspoken word. The second time, I could tell what it was: Run.

  He moved so swiftly he was a blur. They had been expecting him to attack Hessa, but he didn’t go that way. He skewered the rocker with the prod and zapped him. The muscled vamp screamed with it. At the same time, with his other hand, Nicolas ripped the door off the cage and threw it at the driver and Hessa. They tumbled back, but quickly regained their balance.

  Nicolas was gone into the warehouse. From the metal wrenching and clattering sounds, he was ripping the doors off other cages. Hessa screeched her fury and raced after him, yelling at Brawley, the injured rocker, to watch me. The driver took off after his boss.

  Brawley was somehow still on his feet. He was in pain, maddening pain, and it was only heightening his other emotions. I could taste them like a freshly brewed cup of coffee. Tall and black, promising to keep me up all night with the caffeine rush.

  I drank deep of him. Pulled out every little bit. More than I had ever dared to try with anyone.

  Rocking out to some metal band. Laughing with his buddies as they smoked a joint.

  He fell to his knees and gripped the handle of the cattle prod as if he might try to pull it out of himself.

  Brilliant pain, ablaze with his anguish. I took all of it. I fed from a well that seemed to have no bottom.

  Brawley fell forward. Sounds of fighting came from farther away.

  There was a bottom. I took every drop. When I was done, he was a husk. Dead inside and out. Not even one of the undead anymore.

  I didn’t stop. I pulled on the grief of Hessa’s victims. There were at least three dozen in the warehouse. Most of them so close to death.

  I crawled forward out of the cage and stood. I could hear the fight had been taken outside. Something big was hitting something else. It sounded like cars in a head-on collision.

  I stepped over Brawley’s corpse and rounded the boxes. The first demon I spotted was one of the Rusalka. The fish woman was gagged, and her eyes were sewn shut. Her flesh was so dry it had flaked off on some parts and left great oozing wounds.

  The Rusalka was almost dead. She didn’t move as I approached her cage. There was an IV attached to the demon’s ankle slowly siphoning her blood. I kicked the stand over and yanked the tube out of the needle. But it was too late to save the fish woman.

  “I’ll tell your people. They will know how you suffered and that your last thoughts were of them.” I could feel the heavy sadness. The Rusalka were long-lived and very close to their families. When one was near the end of their life, they all gathered together to be there. Here, the fish woman was alone. It was unbearable for her.

  I reached through the bars of the cage and took her hand. I fed upon her, tears streaming down my face. Tears the Rusalka couldn’t shed.

  Life in the water. Happy and free. Family always near. Friends laughing. So many. Izolda, Daniella, Yelena, Osa, Sonya. She wanted to name them all.

  One tiny squeeze. It was all the fish woman could do, and then she was gone. Her well of sorrows had a bottom too.

  My spots felt like volcanic craters, but I didn’t stop feeding. The next section against a wall held a small office and a series of freezers. Freezers with locks to keep whatever was in them from busting out.

  I spied my compact upon the desk, still half-wrapped in the piece of my sweater. I marched in, grabbed it, and paused near the freezers. Two occupants were still alive. I didn’t know what they were, but the cold was tormenting them.

  There was a set of keys by the door. I took them and unlocked the freezers. I flung open the lids as I walked away. I didn’t stay to see what climbed out. Or if they could climb out.

  Around the next corner, a Leshy or Boruta stared at me with huge obsidian eyes. His antlers had been sawn off. His leaves were withering. He yearned for the woods, ached to touch the earth. I tossed him the keys.

  He bowed his head in thanks, still staring instead of fr
eeing himself. I nodded in return and kept walking.

  Outside, the vivid anguish of the driver peaked and then his life winked out. Nicolas still fought, but he was getting farther away. I could barely feel him anymore.

  Something slammed into me, but it barely budged me. I peered down to see a shocked vampire gaping. She was petite, but she was still a vampire. Had she really tried to tackle me?

  The vampire kicked at my leg, but it only slightly jarred me.

  I focused my feeding on her. She was afraid. She didn’t want to die, didn’t want to fail. She had lost so much and clung desperately to this undead life.

  Cursing in Spanish, the vampire reached around her back and drew out a gun.

  The sight of the weapon didn’t register in me. I cocked my head and gobbled up the sorrow wrapped in terror. I wondered fuzzily if every person’s well had a bottom.

  The gun went off and the vampire’s head vanished. I blinked at the gush of blood spurting up from her neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the head roll behind some boxes.

  Another vampire came to stand in front of me. He held a curved and bloody blade. The blood dripped from it onto the concrete floor.

  I latched onto him, drawing on a well that was much darker than any I had touched yet.

  Twitching bodies. A mutilated young man in military uniform.

  He grabbed the front of my sweater and shook me.

  “Snap out of it!” He growled, fangs bared. “Stop it. Don’t you dare feed on me.”

  Such deep and complex sorrow. I had never tasted anything like this.

  So young and yet the misery was immense. His few decades had been full of blood and violence.

  He shook me again, but I didn’t stop. This was more exquisite than dark chocolate. So much death.

  He shook his head and his face changed. My mother glared at me.

  I stopped feeding and threw up on him.

  Abdiel, still wearing my mother’s face, put me in the back of a Buick and ordered me to stay put while he saw to the demons inside the warehouse. Like I was going to go anywhere. Hessa and Nicolas were gone. Likely he was dead.