21. Myth Busting

"You will drink it," the vampire told her. He held his open wrist over her mouth. "You will drink it and I will always be able to find you."

Utter revulsion and disgust rolled through her along with sheer hate and a burning fury such as she couldn't remember having felt in years. She did not want to be defiled by this monster's blood. She knew he was a long way from becoming a soul eater, but he was far more firmly on the path toward it than Eric was—and he was definitely on it.

Vinciente looked charming, urbane, civilized. But he exuded a supernatural evil that dwarfed any she had seen from any other vampire... except two. She had seen Russel Edgington on TV when he had murdered the reporter. And the Ancient who had killed her family had carried the darkest sense of evil she'd ever seen—worse than any she could have imagined.

So she fought them as two men held her head. Even tied down, they muttered about her strength. It was a strength born of revulsion and determination and fueled by an adrenaline-laced rage.

But she was only human, she was outnumbered, she was tied down, and she was facing a monster of unimaginable strength.

"He should have killed you," Vinciente remarked. His blood dripped into her open mouth. "I thought you would die before he even got to you. And even now, he surprises me. He has come straight here. He must have saved you himself. How else could he have come so unerringly to the right place."

Her mouth was held shut and her nose pinched off until she swallowed and then gasped for air upon her release. Realizing it was futile and she could not stop him, she instead banked her emotions, using that moment before it seeped into her to calm herself to the best of her ability.

"There can be only one reason he's here. He wants me to kill you. He's trying to force my hand. Which means there's some reason why you being alive will benefit me." He wagged a finger at her. "I think you know why."

For the next few minutes, her freshly healed body was beaten severely again. The V in her continually healed it, so it was a steady march of pain, healing, pain, healing. She lost herself to the rhythm of it, seeking to control her emotions, to subjugate them, to soothe them. She made herself experience the pain as if it were just another sensation. She'd been abused enough as a child to learn the trick, and she focused on using it now.

"Stop. This is not doing any good. She isn't reacting to it at all."

She was, but she had learned early on that eventually your emotions showed if you didn't control them. So she stared at him, not even allowing herself to experience the hatred and revulsion she felt toward him.

"You have answered my question," he told her. "He wants you back because you are unbroken." He grabbed her hair and jerked it backward. "It would be any vampire's pleasure to break one such as you. The greater the resistance, the sweeter the victory."

She spat in his face. He laughed and wiped it away.

"When I have killed him and taken what should have been mine all along, I promise you this; I will break you. I will strip you of your humanity until you are a crawling, broken thing. Your will is unusually strong, but it is as nothing against mine. I may even keep him in silver and let him watch as I destroy what he could not." His smile was a caricature of treachery and triumph. "He will see the plaything he could not subjugate, groveling at my feet and begging to serve me."

She felt like laughing, so she did, remembering how much it had irritated Eric.

"You think that's funny, cunt?"

"Why, yes, I do. You would be a perfect b-rate actor with your melodrama and your posturing."

One of his minions hit her in the side and she laughed aloud, coughing slightly as he punched her again.

"Stop. It doesn't bother her. But I know what will."

He whispered something to a man at his side and smiled at Arin, a grotesquely self-satisfied smile.

A moment later, a wolf was dragged in, fighting and snarling at the end of two chains that kept her away from her captors, one on each side of her. "You do recognize her, don't you? She was trying to sneak in. It would seem Eric sent a girl-child to do a man's work."

It was Tracy. It took everything in her heart and soul and every ounce of her willpower for Arin to stare, impassive and unemotional, as they kicked her and beat her.

He sighed. "Stop." He walked around Arin. "You played with that 'were all day, according to reports. And yet, you feel nothing for her at all."

Arin let her surprise escape, tamping down with all her will on the rest of her boiling emotions.

He laughed, a hard, barking, cruel sound. "You didn't know? She's a werewolf. So are these men. She, like them, will serve me in time. One of them will rape her and she will bear a pup. When she does, her fate will be sealed. Wolf loyalty to family is nearly unbreakable. Astounding, really."

"Leave her there for now. She's of no use to us."

Arin looked away as Tracy lay panting and in obvious pain on the ground. Compassion warred within her, fighting for its rightful place in her heart. Shoving it ruthlessly back was getting harder with every passing moment as Tracy whined and whimpered with pain.

"Oh, someone shut her up."

Arin chuckled, creating amusement and letting it bubble up. He was so predictably 'b-rate villain'.

"Stop," he ordered. "What's so funny?"

"I'd have thought you would be smarter by now, that's all."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Carry on," she told him.

His eyes narrowed and he glared at her. "You're trying to trick me."

This time, when she laughed, it was genuine. "You're that easily tricked? I'll keep that in mind."

"You think yourself clever, but you are not. I know you care nothing for her. You think to goad me in some way."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Goad you? Whatever would be my motivation?"

"You want me to kill her. Why?"

"Me? No, no. You just said I don't care about her. You'd know if I hated her."

"Yes, I would. But you were amused. Like I was doing something you wanted me to do. You expected that... it was not a surprise. You have some sort of plan, I can feel it, I can sense it."

Arin scoffed. "What can I do? How could I execute any such plan?" She tried to tamp down the rising apprehension. "I'm trapped here. Strapped down. What possible danger could I be to you?"

But he was smiling. A devious smile with that familiar edge of triumph.

"Hold the wolf." He stepped down and dropped blood into her mouth as it was forced open.

Arin tried to focus on the fact that it was the blood of a monster being forced into her friend's throat.

He chuckled as her anger and hate of him slipped through her careful control—just as much as she wanted to, and a bit more, because the fight to contain her feelings was a slowly losing battle.

He ran a hand down Arin's cheek. "What will you do now, precious little plaything? Whom did you expect to react to her death? Hmm?"

Gunfire erupted outside. "Ah, he's here, your vampire master. Come to kill me and finish you off, I suppose. I am ever so gracious a host, I admit, but only when one doesn't come with such a selfish agenda." He turned, "Lucius, go kill his weres."

All around her, men turned into wolves as they divested themselves of clothing. There was one more 'myth' permanently altered in her mind. She'd always thought werewolves were supposed to turn into bestial half-human looking monsters. Not sweet, friendly, loving animals that would play with you in your yard so that your last days on Earth were that little bit brighter.

The room emptied quickly except for her and Tracy. She knew that Tracy would never understand, but she whispered softly, "I'm sorry." Arin was certain of one thing. The beating had been severe. But if she had reacted, it would have been worse.

Tracy didn't look at her, and Arin struggled against regret.