Warning: Same as, same as.

Chapter 9: Truth Wanted

The room they had dragged Sam to was small and windowless, filled with empty boxes, and surprisingly warm, though he was comparing it to the cell he had spent the last thirty or so hours in.

Making sure he couldn't see out of any windows, Zane and his group of vampires had pushed and shoved him through the underground tunnel into the farmhouse one hundred feet away. And they hadn't been gentle about it. Any time they had passed a room with a window in it, Sam had found himself hit around the head or shocked with a cattle prod again. The result was he had lost all sense of direction and had no clue how to get out the seemingly maze-like house.

That was, even if he could have gotten out of the room. They had thrown him in and left him to gasp for breath, aching all over from the shocks and with a headache coming on strong. His hands were still tied, his ribs were hurting, and he was pretty sure the wound on the back oh his head had broken open again.

But he was alive. Which was more than he could say for Bailly. The now-ex-convict had become chow for some lucky vampire Zane had made Sam pass. The sight of the blood-sucking bastard digging into the dead man with no thought for cleanliness had made Sam want to hurl. Though that might just have been the effect of being kicked, thrown and electrocuted.

He had been in this room for an hour before someone came back. He was on his feet by then, the lingering aches slowly fading, and had been scouring the room in the vain hope of some easy way out. Out of the room, out of the house. Hell, he'd have settled for some way out of the rough ropes digging into his wrists, but no such luck.

He turned to face the door as he heard people coming. Hoping – in vain once again – that they were going to leave him alone for longer. But the door swung open a minute later, and three vampires walked in.

Sam watched them suspiciously. It seemed that Zane hadn't been given the job of getting the information out of him. He recognised the vampire in the middle though. With the quickly fading bruise on his right temple it had to be Howl.

Sam backed up to the corner made by boxes, knowing he couldn't really fight with his hands behind his back but unwilling to just let them do what they wanted without fuss.

Howl just laughed and motioned with his hand. Sam tensed as the other two came forward, glad that they had decided to leave the prods behind. It wouldn't have made much difference however; the two vampires grabbed onto his arms and dragged him forward, only tightening their grip when he tried to struggle free.

They blindfolded Sam and dragged him from the room roughly. Two lefts and a right turn later they made him spin ninety degrees before pushing him backwards. He gave a grunt as his back hit a metal pole, which also made him fall to the side. He felt hands pick him back up and press him hard against the pole. He struggled slightly, knowing it was useless. But he wasn't about to give up.

A moment later he went still though. Something scraped along his neck and he paused, recognising the thin line as a knife.

"Make a move," the vampire on the other end whispered. "And I'll slice you open and feed on you while it's still warm."

"You wouldn't dare," Sam said softly. Softly because he could feel the knife pressing on his throat when he spoke. And he didn't move. He liked his neck nice and closed, and he wasn't about to chance having it slit.

He kept still as his hands were untied and then retied so he was bound to the pole. The knife was moved away when he was secure, and Sam unwillingly took a deep breath.

The blindfold was kept on, so Sam tried to use his abilities to sense where the vampires were. Their tainted sense made him feel slightly nauseous, though again that could have been the electric shocks catching up to him. But he could sense them. There were still three of them. One in front, one to the left, and one just behind him slightly to the right.

He kept his gaze up at the one in front. When it moved, Sam's head moved, and he could feel their surprise when he did, considering how silently they crossed the floor.

After a moment, the vampire in front moved closer to him. Sam waited, waited for it to come close enough. Then, when it was only two feet away, he kicked out, catching the vampire in the leg with such force that it fell to the ground.

He earned an ear-ringing slap for it, but he was grinning as the vampire got to its feet and came up close to him, angry now. "That wasn't very nice," it snapped, coming in close from the side to avoid any more kicks. Instead this time it was the one that kicked out, and Sam grunted as his ribs took more blows.

The vampire, Howl Sam thought, took a step back. He took deep breaths and turned to face it. But he stayed silent, just staring at it.

The room was quiet for a moment. And then Howl got down to the reason they were here in the first place.

"So, want to tell us your name?" it asked, staying still.

Sam shook his head. "Not really," he answered as lightly as he could. Inside he was tense beyond belief, knowing what was coming. More pain. But he wasn't giving into these bastards. He had more pride than that.

He didn't think about the affect being broken would have on said pride. He refused to. His mind had already been broken once in the past few days, and all he could think was that he wasn't giving in to evil sons of bitches again.

Howl came a step closer. "You know you'll tell us eventually," it warned, its voice promising.

Sam shrugged. "We'll see."

He braced himself for the punch and the result was he saw only dozens of stars instead of hundreds. He shook his head, losing track for a moment of where each vampire was, and earned himself another kick to the ribs.

"Dammit!" he cried, leaning over. "What is it with you bastards and my ribs!"

One of them chuckled, but it was Howl who spoke. "Tell us what we want to know and we'll leave your ribs alone."

Sam sat up straighter. "Go to hell," he spat.

This time he felt the punch break skin, and blood started dribbling down his cheek. Immediately the air in the room felt more alive, as the vampires got the smell of his blood in their noses. The atmosphere seemed more vibrant, more charged, and he knew at least one of them stiffened.

Sam stiffened too as Howl moved closer, squatting beside him. The hunter tried to move away, but Howl still reached out and traced a finger through the blood. Sam felt like throwing up as the vampire got a taste of him.

"Mmm, nice," it whispered, and Sam tried to lean away from the words. "I think you'd be a nice treat. Maybe I shouldn't break you. If I kill you before I learn anything, they'll give you to me. And I'll suck you dry without thought, in a matter of minutes."

Sam reined in his disgust and turned to face the vampire. "Well, then I'd hope you choke on it," he whispered icily.

Howl chuckled. "I appreciate a challenge," it began. The door opening interrupted him, and all three turned to face the newcomer.

"What is it?" Howl snapped, angry at being interrupted.

"You have to come," the newcomer answered. "You all do. Boreal is here."

Again, the atmosphere changed immediately. The three vampires stood up straighter, becoming excited in a respectful way, like someone about to meet the president, Sam thought. And all three left, a deep thud the only sound one of them made.

He waited in the silence for a moment before judging that no one was around, and that no one seemed to be coming back.

After rubbing his head against his shoulder a few times he managed to get the blindfold out of his eyes and onto his forehead. Thankful to be out of the dark, he looked around.

The room he was in was dimly lit. It was small, but bigger than the one he had been in. As he studied the walls, he found himself very glad that someone had shown up, as he took in the array of instruments hanging haphazardly. He didn't concentrate too hard on them, but he was suddenly sure they didn't care about making fight anymore. They just wanted to know who he was. And they would have known as well, if they had begun using the things on the wall.

Only one wall was bare of the devices, and a window took up most of that space. Any direct sunlight was blocked by a thick curtain. Under the window ran a high bench, but Sam couldn't see what was on it. Except for one thing.

The knife stood up straight near the edge of the bench, unmoving. Too far from him to reach, even if he stretched his legs. But maybe not if he stretched his mind.

He bit his lip, staring at the knife. He hadn't even thought about using his powers since the demon had fled his body. Truth be told, he was scared. Scared of what it might awaken. Some leftover from the bastard, perhaps. Something that had been there the whole time. Some darkness like what the demon had promised was inside of him, made more alive by the presence of evil-almost-incarnate.

But he needed to get out of this damn place. And for that, he needed the knife. And to get that, he needed to use his telekinesis.

He began hoping he could use it, as he shifted on the floor, his ass already going numb. He began concentrating, remembering when he had used it in Richmond. He had used anger then. He would have to use anger now.

He thought on the fight he had seen the night before. Not his, he couldn't remember any of it. But the one before. When the convict had pummelled the other guy. He remembered the blood, the bloodthirsty cheers of the vampires. He thought long and hard on the idea that they had been kidnapped just so those sadistic bastards could watch them be beaten to death.

He opened his eyes, breathing deeply as he felt the power fill him. Like a door it opened in his mind, and he watched the room, quivering slightly as he tried to contain the energy. Even then it made the instruments on the wall shake, banging softly against the walls. He hoped no one was listening in.

Taking a deep breath, he focused on the knife. In his head he imagined it floating up and over to him. He eyed it, glared at it, willing it to rise out of the wood.

It began shaking, and then, as he watched, it rose, slowly, shaking as Sam struggled to keep control over. It didn't help that he was tired, and hurting. But he didn't think about that. He thought only of the knife coming towards him.

It paused in the air, turning slightly, Sam's own mind rebelling against the strain. He frowned, feeling the sweat start.

"Come on," he whispered urgently at it. "Come on!"

Perhaps sensing the insistence in his voice, the knife decided to 'come on'. It came on, fast, dangerous end facing Sam. He flinched, unable to do much but tense and close his eyes as he prepared to feel the blade sinking into his flesh.

Teensy cliffhanger, kinda stupid really. But if I'd let it go on, like I'd planned, then the chapter would have been heaps long.