The Nellaf had been Maddox’s favorite building since he constructed the city eight years ago. While his own penthouse had been ornately designed, the Nellaf’s interior could only be described as opulent. A stark contrast to his private quarters, the hotel was the one place Maddox felt at home—where he could shed the pretence of man and be truly himself.
“Where are you taking me?”
Vincent’s husky voice filtered into Maddox’s mind. He trailed his gaze toward the hunter, who sat unmoving opposite him, pinched eyes incinerating. He had lost weight since arriving in Sanctuary Hope—his own fault, of course—but his muscular frame looked far too immense to be squashed in a limousine. Maddox had stayed true to his word, however, and stripped him of his belongings and upgraded amenities.
Now, Vincent had been dressed in only his cock ring and a pair of gold shackles on his wrists and ankles. His powerful, shaved chest fluttered quite deliciously, and a single droplet of sweat beaded down his scarred eyebrow.
“Are you nervous, Vincent?”
The hunter’s knuckles blanched against his muscular thighs. “Should I be?”
“Excuse me?” A tinge of annoyance grazed Maddox’s temple.
“Should I be nervous, Sir?”
Maddox stared at him coldly. “Yes. You should be.”
He fixed his attention out the window, offering no further explanation, and the limousine drifted into silence. Beyond the tinted windows, twilight descended upon them, and not a soul ventured past curfew. The streets were devoid of inhabitants, cold, immaculate, and for a time, abandoned.
It was a shame things had come to breaking point with Vincent, but his stupidity last night had cost Maddox dearly. Vampire, childe, human, beast—it mattered not who disobeyed them, only that they were reprimanded. And Maddox had the perfect lesson to teach Vincent.
He placed a hand inside his pocket. “You will wear this. When Ezra stops this car, I will have you escorted through the building. I expect you to remain silent at all times unless spoken to. Within those walls, you will address me as your master.” He presented the leather blindfold to Vincent. “Failure to do so will result in more reduction of your quality of life. Understand?”
Vincent’s lips bore backward, and he appeared to be on the verge of arguing.
“Or perhaps I should summon your sister to put the blindfold on for you? Would her seeing you like this bring you joy?”
Vincent snapped his jaw and none too gently grabbed the blindfold from Maddox’s hand. He watched as the hunter tied the material around his eyes and brushed strands of his now-shortened hair.
“Your hair suits you, Vincent. It looks better, would you not agree?”
A snarl but no response. Maddox inwardly chuckled. He loved how Vincent battled with not losing his self-control and managed, just barely, to hold himself in check. The mark of a true leader. And Vincent’s record had proven him to be an exceptional one, at that. It was why Maddox needed him.
Well, amongst other things.
Shortly after passing the Central City Academy, Ezra cut the engine outside of Nellaf. The towering skyscraper glimmered under the moonlight, and the American flag fluttered proudly at the pinnacle. A moment later, the door popped open, and Maddox dipped outside. With Vincent clanging in his wake, they entered a grand lobby filled with various human attendants.
The newly employed concierge, a Scandinavian named Christian, welcomed them at the reception desk. He had recently become General Wolfe’s plaything, along with his delicious volunteer, Yuri. Maddox could see the disappointment in Christian’s eyes when he saw no trace of his master.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Master Caine.” He held his right arm over his chest, bowed, and remained still as a mark of respect.
Maddox inclined his own head briefly. “I trust everyone has arrived?”
“Of course everyone arrived. We await you, brother, as do we always.”
A grin tugged at Maddox’s lips. He swirled to see his younger sister, Eleanora, leaning against the elevator with that impertinent smile of hers. She had donned a floor-length, sapphire ball gown that wrapped around her long, pale neck, and her auburn ringlets were pinned into an elaborate bun at her nape. The second youngest of the seven Caines, Eleanora was the only one who replicated their mother’s beautiful fiery hair, and she possessed beauty so exceeding that temples and Grecian monuments had been carved after her.
No architecture in existence could rightly depict the beauty of a First Born.
While Eleanora was the smallest of her siblings, she was no less powerful and famous for her quick temper.
“My dearest sister. How wonderful to see you.” Maddox glided toward her and kissed the both of her rosy cheeks.
Vincent’s chains scraped over the tiles as he trailed after him.
Such a good little dog.
“Yes, yes, yes.” Eleanora pulled back and gazed over her brother’s shoulder. Something had caught her attention. “I see now you brought a gift.” Her serpentine eyes gleaned Vincent like a prized cut of meat.
Ah. Well, of course.
“Is this the mongrel Svana foretold me of?”
“You already know the answer to that, El. Where is that childe of mine?”
“Late as per usual.” Eleanora jutted her pointed chin toward the elevator. “Shall we begin, brother?”
Maddox grinned and offered her an arm. She tangled a slender hand around him, her razor-sharp, polished nails gleaming.
“Did you leave Sanctuary Meiyo in Desmond’s care?” he asked her, the elevator doors springing ajar.
Eleanora flapped her other hand and pressed inside. “That ghastly, unpleasant old fool you sent me?”
An attendant waited until they were all present, including Vincent and Ezra, before he selected the ground floor. The Synner dungeon.
“Of course I did, and yet he despises Asian cuisine. You amused me with that, brother. Speaking of old fools. Will General Wolfe also be attending tonight’s event?”
The metallic hum of hydraulics lurched the carriage into action.
Maddox shook his head. “No. He left at dawn to retrieve Svana from Montana. I imagine he will also be late.”
“A pity.” She blinked sideways at Vincent and flashed her canines. It was like watching a wolf stalking its prey. “I couldn’t resist the temptation of coming here. After Svana told me of your new…pet… Well, I just had to see for myself. She said that he is a Dusk Hunter?”
“He was a hunter, yes. That purpose no longer serves him.” Maddox trained his focus on Vincent. “Does it now?”
The hairs on Vincent’s naked body bristled, and his knuckles writhed. He looked like a cornered fox, squashed between Ezra and the attendant, and the wolf in the distance closed in on him.
At last, he answered: “No, Master.”
The words tingled through Maddox’s veins. To hear Vincent acknowledge his place was a glorious sound indeed.
“See.” His eyes flashed with delight. My volunteer learns quickly. He turned to his sister, who had placed her head against his shoulder. As with all First Borns, his body felt instinctively stronger in her presence. “I believe we are in for a splendid evening, El.”
“You are the second oldest creature to ever walk this planet,” she said, squeezing his arm. “I would be disappointed otherwise. Besides”—the elevator shuddered to a halt twenty levels below ground, and the doors pinged open—“they do not call you Mad Maddox for nothing.”
Maddox grinned at the concept and dusted a hand down his ash-gray suit. He had slicked his hair back for the occasion, but with the air thinning and his clothes molding to his muscles, a bead of sweat toyed with his cowlick and dropped an obstinate lock into his eyes.
The shrill of distant cries pounded through his ears, enticing his senses…
He swept a hand through his hair and pressed into a carpeted hallway studded in neon lights. A crimson veil formed in the shadows at the end. Maddox pulled aside the entrance and proceeded onto a circular platform carved in extortionate tortile. Eyes glistened from in the darkness. The powdery air smelled of freshly squeezed blood, making him want to feed. But he must bide his time. There was no great pleasure in devouring the dessert before he had even touched the entree.
Maddox listened to Vincent’s heartbeat accelerating upon entering the dungeon. His inadequate senses were no doubt acclimating to his tented surroundings, the meagre ventilation, heavily fabricated walls, and the blood perfuming the air. His head rotated in all directions, blind, desperate, seeking to whom the laughter, the cries, the sniffling, or whoosh of fire belonged to. Unfortunately for him, the blindfold would remain on until the last minute.
Eleanora oohed and aahed at the performers swinging on flying trapezes. She clapped at the exotic dancers writhing in silks and giggled at the fire-breathers putting on a grand display. Upon leaving the stage, she quickly disposed of Maddox’s arm and joined some of their coven at the concession counter.
Or rather, a human menagerie fresh from Maddox’s feeding quarters.
Why invest in the death penalty when vampires could bleed them dry? There was no point in wasting satisfactory produce. Not only did his method save his country money, time, and resources, but also fed his coven without jeopardizing any civilians.
The produce cowered from their masked onlookers, rattling the bars of the cage as they so often did. The perfectly unassuming principal of Sanctuary Hope City Academy, Jerome, dragged a rare delicacy onto the center of the stage.
Gagged, bound, naked, the creature had been thrown into the tiger’s den. And he wept.
Ooh, my poor baby…
Maddox claimed his throne in the darkest corner of the room. The high-backed, rich wooden frame was bathed in luxurious red silks and boasted a spectacular view of the stage. The boy capturing his attention resisted Jerome at first, muffling his futile protests. But a sharp backhand to the face quickly silenced him.
Ezra paused at the dais, a hand clenched around Vincent’s neck. Sweat poured down the hunter’s body, vessels pulsated in his neck and forearms, and his breathing turned rapid. Maddox blinked at the floor, then back to Vincent. With an unceremonious heave, Ezra forced the hunter onto his knees, causing his legs to spread open and strain his shackles.
The hunter yanked his neck from Ezra’s grip and steadied himself, as best as he could, on his knees. If Maddox had a heart that functioned like a man’s, he was certain it would have skipped a beat. There was something extraordinarily beautiful about that particular sight—a hunter at the mercy of its prey.
A master with his pet at his feet.
Vincent Hudson bowing to Maddox Caine.
Ezra took his chance to excuse himself toward the stage. As was customary, the rest of Maddox’s coven steered clear from the throne. The council members and vampire nobles occupied themselves with the menagerie, poking and prodding the human flesh inside. Or they engaged in sexual activities all around him, moaning and hissing, but never did they interfere with Maddox. They knew better than to disturb the governor of the city. They particularly knew better than to touch the object Maddox had presented as his.
Although, Maddox could do nothing about their stares or whispers from behind their masks. He even turned a blind eye to the acrobats pausing in the air, their handprints pressed against the silks and their nostrils flaring toward Vincent. So this is the mongrel Svana foretold me of?
Mongrel, beast, soon to be broken… It was not the boy on the stage his coven had gathered to see.
It was Vincent.
“Come to me,” Maddox ordered, his legs spread lazily, and his arms draped along the throne.
Vincent started at the command, then, after a moment, he pushed back and attempted to rise.
“Animals do not walk like that. You are a beast. Crawl.”
The room transcended into rapt silence—not even the dancers dared move. The fire-breathers burned their gazes onto the throne. Vincent hunched down, his muscles writhing. He crawled toward Maddox on his hands and knees, and his bonds clamored, scratching like nails down a board.
Maddox clapped his approval. “Well done. Obeying me is not so hard, is it?”
“No.”
“No what?”
“No, Master.”
“Splendid. Now, be a good sport and lick my boot. Go on now. No need to be shy. You are a famous Dusk Hunter, after all.”
Sniggers rose from his coven, and similar chains rattled on the stage.
“Wha—” The word died, unuttered, on the hunter’s lips.
Maddox crossed his legs, thrust out a boot, and waited. He would force Vincent to obey him if need be, but never would he bow to the same level as his dog.
He was not Cadmus.
Vincent’s face turned beet red—the first time he had ever witnessed him blush. But to Maddox’s pleasure, Vincent groped for his boot, brought his lips down, paused, then thrust his tongue out. The lick was pitiful, as if the man was scared the leather would jump out and eat him.
“Keep going until I say so.” Maddox’s dick hardened, and he drank in every movement of the hunter. “Do you enjoy being treated like a dog, Vincent?”
His tongue moved slowly, licking Maddox’s boot with prolonged, satisfying strokes. Maddox narrowed his eyes at Vincent’s lack of response.
“I asked you a question. You would do well to answer me.”
“I don’t,” the hunter growled, slipping his tongue back inside. “But I ain’t got no say in it otherwise… Master.”
“Oh, but you do.” Maddox nearly sang the words. “Keep licking. Stop again and you will be sorry.”
Vincent resumed his worship of Maddox’s boot, this time licking and teasing like his life depended on it. The remaining guests returned to their prior distractions. Maddox continued, drumming his gloved fingers against the throne.
“You could be treated like a man again if you choose to obey me. What stops you?” He already knew the answer: pride, which was foolish for a man who had surrendered himself to Maddox. But he needed to hear those words. “Is it your family? What if they saw you reduced to that of a beast? Is that what stops you from letting go?”
Vincent’s tongue hung from between his lips but did not move. The air thickened between them, and for those few moments, they were all that existed.
“Worse yet, what if they knew I was about to have every vampire in this room fuck your holes beyond repair? What would they think of you then?”
Slut. Whore. Beast. Traitor.
“I made clear that it was you who decided your fate. Not me. Not your group. You. And look at what you elected…to live like a mongrel.” Distaste curled Maddox’s lips, and when Vincent stopped licking again, he nudged the side of his face with his boot. “Did I say stop licking? Now the other one. Show me you understand your place.”
A flicker of hesitation before he grabbed Maddox’s other leg. A carnival performer expelled a mouthful of fire, and its vibrant, amber glow streamed around Vincent. Iron shackles clattered. Convicts screamed as fangs plunged into their flesh.
Feeding time at the Synner dungeon had begun.
“Good boy. Yes, yes keep going. That’s it.” Maddox’s head flicked toward the stage, then back to Vincent, who was hard at work licking his boots. Time for a little fun. “What are you, Vincent?”
“A man, Master.” Completely deadpan with not a single fuck given.
“Yes. But what are you to me?”
He had the sense to apply his lips, too, and dotted periodic kisses against Maddox’s boot. Worship him, indeed. If only he had behaved like that to begin with.
“A Dusk Hunter…”
“Pardon?”
“I said I belong to you, Master. You are my sponsor.”
“And why do you belong to me?”
“Because of the sponsorship program.”
“And you volunteered yourself. Why is that?”
“To protect them.” A kiss. “To keep my group safe.” Another lick. “I had no choice, Master.”
Sweat dribbled down Vincent’s forehead and soaked into his blindfold. Maddox gulped. The haircut had made an attractive man now beautiful, and he wanted to taste him. Devour him.
“There is always a choice in life, Vincent. You merely chose wisely.” He kicked his boot away from Vincent’s mouth and pushed off his throne. Seizing Vincent’s hair, Maddox brought his lips close to his. “Now tell me why you disobeyed me?”
“I… I fucking told you. I had to save them.”
“Ah, yes. The convicts.” He gave the menagerie a glance. “It took me twenty-four hours to retrieve them and at the cost of two civilians. At the cost of your brother-in-law. Would you like to see those whom you freed?” He ripped Vincent’s blindfold off and squeezed his flushed cheeks. “Or how about this?”
Forcing him up from the ground, then onto his knees at the stage, Maddox dumped Vincent heaving on all fours. The hunter whipped his head around left, right, and center, searching, panicking, finally making sense of his surroundings…then his body tensed.
Not two feet in front of him, Emory was bound and gagged on the stage, his limbs spread nice and open. His bloodshot, teary eyes poured into Vincent, and every creature around them watched with ravenous eyes.
What would the Dusk Hunter do now?
“Tell me again why you freed those monsters?” Maddox’s voice increased into a scathing hiss. His skin shed from his bones like dry ice; black, smoky tendrils oozed from his pores as he unleashed his rage and his First Born broke to the surface. “Tell my kin why you disobeyed me even when I vowed to protect your ungrateful people? You entered my program. I did not force you to enlist but rather welcomed you all into my city. And what did you do?”
Maddox let him go and siphoned to the cages. He dragged out a male convict and dangled the flesh in front of Vincent, yet the hunter did not move. He did not even blink. He had locked eyes with his nephew, who choked around his ball gag and had tears gushing down his face.
“Look at me!”
Vincent looked at him with rage boiling in his eyes.
“You let this monster kill two innocent children. Your own family.” His canines ripped out the convict’s throat in one single bite. He spat the flesh over Vincent’s features, and blood sprayed his own vision. He let the body drop lifelessly to the floor and motioned to Emory. “An eye for eye. Is that not what you humans say?”
With Vincent gazing between Emory and the dead convict, Maddox expected him to attack. But he did something Maddox did not expect: he crawled over to him…and he bowed.
“Please…” The plea came out breathless, inaudible, a choked-back sob. “He’s my nephew, for Christ’s sake.”
“And?”
“I’ll—I’ll fucking do it.” Another sob. “I’ll submit to you, just please…let him go…let my sister go. Master, please…”
Maddox’s lips quirked into a smile. “Now you are beginning to understand me, Vincent.”
He left Vincent kneeling at the throne and turned to his sister. He could not reveal how greatly his submission had pleased him: that would come later. Across the room, bathed in candlelight, Eleanora immersed herself in a group of young vampires. They openly worshipped her existence, exposing their bodies and baring their necks to her. She locked eyes with Maddox and grinned, as though detecting his thoughts.
—You wish to join me, brother?—
—Cerberus claims I spoil you too much—
—Nonsense. He has lost his sense of fun, is all. Besides, darling, I am quite famished, and you know of my hunger—
She winked, sank her fangs into a male vampire’s throat, and drank ravenously. Indeed his sister had a greater appetite than he. To think they still had a cage ripe with humans.
Maddox couldn’t wait to claim Vincent’s neck. Would he taste like Cadmus had done, salty and bitter? Or had his blood more of a sweetened flavor like Emory?
The moment of truth would have to wait. Later, when they were alone and he had fully accepted Vincent as his own, Maddox would claim him once and for all.
With that in mind, he slowly approached the stage. Fire exploded into the atmosphere and bent around his body. Grasping Emory’s silver chains, he unhooked the boy and let his body sag onto the stage. He may have been a monster, but Maddox was a vampire true to his word. In exchange for Vincent’s submission, he would erase Emory’s mind and release him. The boy would recall nothing of what had transpired in the weeks since his arrival, and nor would his precious group.
“Sweet boy…” Maddox touched the side of Emory’s head and brought his face up from the floor. Emory cowered from his touch, though he met Maddox with eyes so similar and yet different to Vincent’s. “Go to sleep.”
Emory’s eyes dipped shut, and his head relaxed in Maddox’s hand. He lay the boy down on the ground, nodded to Ezra, and straightened.
He turned just in time to see an acrobat slithering down a web of silk, her long limbs contorted and claws grabbing on to Vincent.
In the moments between Maddox turning and her latching on to Vincent, he siphoned forward and seized her by the throat. But he was too late. Her fangs had punctured Vincent’s throat, and he gasped on the floor, pressing a hand against the bleeding wound. A small puncture, fortunately, but no less of a violation.
“Did I say you could touch him?” Dark, smoky tendrils clouded the air in a naked display of fury. “Did I say you could feed from him?”
The she-vamp gurgled in his grip, rattling fruitless squeals like a dying beast. Her complexion darkened, and her scarlet eyes popped from their sockets, discharging blood-red tears down her ashen cheeks. The scent of Vincent’s blood, smeared against her plump lips, invaded Maddox like a septic perfume. How dare she take that from him. Had he not made his rules perfectly clear? No vampire or man were allowed to touch his belongings. Only he had the right. And this measly circus freak thought she had the right to defy that?
His claws found purchase under the performer’s skin and crumbled her trachea into a pile of dust. A fatal snap to her neck had the carcass dropping to the floor. If the dungeon had been quiet moments before, the silence was nothing compared to the instant she collapsed into a bloody puddle.
Maddox extracted a white handkerchief from his upper suit pocket. He used the material to clean the blood from his hand, his fingernails, forehead, and then threw it over his shoulder. It floated onto the ground as though a dove had been shot from the sky.
“Now, does anyone else wish to touch that which is mine?” So quiet he could have heard a pin drop. “No? You all surprise me.”
He bent down, raised Vincent to his feet, and stepped over the dead bodies. Without even glancing back, he blindfolded and led Vincent from the dungeon, all the while his rage bleeding visibly from his body.
—Two kills in one night? Now who is the spoiled one, dearest brother?—
Maddox smiled to himself and slipped into the elevator.
—You may have a greater appetite, sister, but I have an insatiable thirst—