By the time Rok came back to temporarily stop Death from doing what he did so well, Marcus was no longer smiling.

He could feel that the silver around his wrists didn’t have much flesh left to burn through before it hit bone, but that was only a slight stinging compared to the various creative ways that Death had been using his hammer and small silver blade.

The movies would always make such a show of various instruments used for torture, but Marcus knew better. Someone who truly knew pain needed very few tools, and from the agony that currently streaked through Marcus’s entire body, Death was an expert in pain.

The worst part of this torture was the utter pointlessness of it. Not one question had been asked of him yet. This was just the warm-up for the main event. Warming Marcus up until he was desperate for a way out. Even though the agony stretched through every limb and cell, the sedative he’d been injected with seemed to be completely out of his system.

But now was his chance. Rok and Death were still in the building, but they were at least distracted for the first time since the torture had started. Marcus knew he had the physical strength to break the bonds. He just needed to steel himself to manage the pain that his escape would bring.

Before he could manage any escape, Death spoke just loud enough for Marcus to catch the end of the conversation. “The scout you sent didn’t find Kilk?”

Rok shook his head. “Make sure he tells you everything he knows.”

Kilk was missing? A flood of hope washed through him. If he was missing, that could mean Gena was alive.

He took a deep, calming breath, and an image of Gena came to him. Gena, who had been left alone with a monster and somehow survived. He needed to get back to her. He needed to make sure this never happened again. What if she didn’t get away? They never said she was missing.

Filled with a sudden determination, Marcus shot to action. In a lightning-fast motion, he gripped the chains above him and pulled himself up as far as his arms would allow. Once his nose was level with his fists, he let his body drop and put all his renewed strength into tugging at the chains as he fell.

The combination of his weight and forceful tug was enough to rip the bolts that held the chains to the concrete ceiling, and he fell to the cement floor. He landed on the balls of his feet as the chain clattered down next to him.

Rok and Death twisted around and tensed as they realized he was free. Well, down. The silver cuffs still burned into his raw wrists, but Marcus refused to let the pain hinder him. He needed to get free. Gena needed him to get free.

He stood and squared his shoulders, staring down the two men as he waited for them to advance. Except Rok didn’t look intimidated at all. Instead, he called out, “Reinforcements!”

Two side doors at the back of the warehouse opened and six other vampires piled in, one after another. Like Groff and Kilk, these men were also covered in ink and completely unfamiliar to Marcus. Shit.

But the longer he waited, the closer they got. He sped over to Death and swung the chain out as he moved, wrapping it soundly around his neck. Right as the other vampires approached, Marcus gave the chain a vicious tug, and the crack of his neck breaking filled the room.

He held the now unconscious vampire in front of him as he stared down the six newcomers and Rok, who stood in the back, overseeing the situation. Goff and Kilk had overpowered him in no time in his apartment.

They weren’t newly turned vamps. Each one was a pure breed with evident training in combat. But it didn’t matter whether he couldn’t take them all. He could definitely take out a few.

He unwrapped the chain and threw Death at the group of men, knocking two over as another two rushed at him. Marcus managed to elbow one in the face as the other slammed him with a right hook. As he fell back, he kicked out and connected with one of the attackers, but he couldn’t tell where.

Once he was on his back, he had to maneuver with his wrists still cuffed in front of him. One down, seven to go. He whipped his legs back and swung them forward, using the leverage to hop back on his feet as the rebels surrounded him. Holding the chain at the halfway point, he spun it in a circle, blocking the horde from rushing him. Marcus studied the men and tried to pick the weakest to go after first.

Before he had a chance to choose, a stream of bullets rained down through the doorway and Marcus dove to the left. There was no good cover, but he ducked behind the open table Death kept his supplies on.

The bullets kept coming, and it took Marcus a moment to realize none were aimed at him. The table offered no protection, and if they’d been coming for him, he’d already be immobilized. He peered beyond the table.

Vlad and his men were the ones using the gunfire to corral the rebels into a corner of the room. Once they were there, they broke out the blades and one by one, finished the job. In less than two minutes, the rebels had gone from almost killing him to all lying dead on the ground.

“You couldn’t have left one alive?” snapped Marcus.

Vlad glared at him. “You’re welcome would also work,” he bit out as he turned his sword to Marcus. In one swift swing, he brought the blade down on Marcus’s cuffs and split them in half.

Marcus pulled his arms apart, reveling in the ability to stretch again. “Cut the cuffs off. I have to find Gena.”

If it was possible, Vlad’s pale face managed to get paler. “I’m sorry, Marcus.”

Every muscle within him tensed. “You’re sorry for what?” he growled.

“I heard right before we got here. Gena stormed the Tower tonight and one of the guards got a hold of her. She’s dead.”