A silent tear rolled down Sasha’s cheek as she came fully awake. Ewan’s words as he spoke on the phone were the last thing she’d heard before succumbing fully to sleep. They’d stayed with her through the seemingly endless, dark hours of sunlight that held her in their grip, tortured by the realization that everything she’d thought to be true was a lie. The heartfelt words spoken in the quiet dark. Every gentle touch. His proclamation that she belonged to him. All lies. All constructed to gain her trust so he could help to bring Ian Gregor’s twisted plans to fruition.
Some small part of her didn’t want to believe it. Couldn’t. Not after everything that had happened between them. The things they’d experienced together, the words they’d shared. Tender touches and gentle kisses … Sasha’s breath hitched on a sob. Ewan’s betrayal sliced through her and left a raw gaping wound she feared would never heal. She’d turned her back on her coven, her family, for him. Gods, how could she have been so stupid?
Sasha swiped at the rivulets of salty tears and steeled herself against the pain. She pushed herself up from the bed, still a little weak and groggy, but determined to get out of here as soon as freaking possible. She needed to warn Saeed, to warn Mikhail and the other covens. She could at least be thankful Ewan hadn’t had the opportunity to ask her about the other covens. Otherwise, they’d be in a hell of a lot more trouble than they were now. Vigilance was important, but at least they wouldn’t have to pull up camp and move. It could’ve been so much worse.
She threw her clothes on, refusing to look back at the bed she and Ewan had shared so many times over the past several weeks. She was never coming back to this place. Ever. She’d made so many bad decisions since being turned. She’d been wild, out of control, irresponsible, and immature. And that was saying a lot considering the centuries she had under her belt. It was time to return to her life. The way it had been. Love simply wasn’t in the cards for her. It’s not like she needed it to live. To thrive.
Snap out of it, Sasha. Just get your ass home. To her real home. Not the illusion of home she’d created here. With him.
Fuck Ewan Brún.
Sasha gathered the few meager possessions she had and headed out the door. Her steps were quick and light as she raced down the two flights of stairs, more than ready to catch an Uber and get the hell out of here. She hit the bottom step and white hot pain exploded in the back of her skull. She fell forward and hit the sidewalk face first with nothing to break her fall. Sticky wet warmth trickled down her forehead as her surroundings blurred in and out of focus. Her skull had to have been nearly cracked in two to knock her unconscious. And as darkness settled in to take her, her last unbidden thought was of Ewan’s beautiful golden eyes. Gods-damn him.
* * *
Sasha’s head pounded like someone had repeatedly taken a sledgehammer to it, which probably wasn’t far from the truth. She couldn’t have been unconscious for too long, her supernatural healing would’ve made sure of it. She tried to lift her head but she was bound, blindfolded, and secured to the floor by what she assumed was silver netting by the way it pricked and burned her skin. The cold of the concrete beneath her seeped through her clothes, into her bones and she couldn’t help but wonder which of her many enemies had done this to her?
“The bitch is moving.”
The scent of sulfur reached her nostrils in Sasha stifled a gag. She supposed she should be grateful the berserkers hadn’t gotten to her first. At least as the demons’ captive, she was practically guaranteed to only be tortured. Whereas the berserkers would’ve tortured and then killed her. Yet one more shit storm she’d been dragged into, thanks to Ewan.
Her captors had taken precautions this time around, preventing her the opportunity to fight back. Her wrists and ankles were bound with the same silver cords to keep her from moving too much while the netting held her in place so tight she couldn’t even move her head from side to side.
“She can’t be moving that much,” another voice chortled. “You damn near knocked her head off her shoulders when you took her down. Even a vampire needs a bit of time to recover from a wound like that. Besides, she’s going nowhere as long as that webbing is on top of her.”
Don’t be so sure, assholes. Sasha was nothing if not resourceful. And Saeed hadn’t put her in charge of his security because she was a gentle little kitten. Sasha was smart. Strong. Fierce. These stupid greedy demons would regret the day they took her captive. Because she was going to kill every last one of them.
As soon as she got herself free.
“What about the berserker? Doesn’t do any good to have her without him.”
Sasha stilled at the mention of Ewan. She didn’t want to care. She should forget about him and leave him to his fate. He’d asked for it after all. But they were sort of in this together. Like it or not, as far as the demons were concerned they were a package deal.
“We’ll have him.” Sasha wanted to laugh at their confidence. “Once we separate him from Gregor.”
Sasha’s blood heated at the mention of the warlord’s name. She forced her breathing to slow and her muscles to relax. Tension only pressed her tighter against the silver cords that bit into her skin. Still better than hellfire any day of the week.
“That male is as evil as they come,” one of the demons replied. “And we know evil, am I right?”
They had a good laugh at that and Sasha gritted her teeth to the point that her fangs nicked her bottom lip. She licked the blood away, wishing she had a donor nearby for a boost of added strength. Ewan’s blood would be a supercharge to her system, but since there was no chance of feeding from his vein ever again, Sasha would have to make do with whatever she could get her hands on. Her lip curled in distaste. Unfortunately, the only thing within arms’ reach was a disgusting demon.
Probably tasted just as bad as they smelled.
Gods, what a completely fucked-up situation.
“After tonight, there’ll be one less berserker in the world, and that’s fucking fine by me. They’re all a bunch of animals and deserve to be put down.”
“What if he won’t play ball?”
Sasha held in a snort. She’d found out firsthand tonight that Ewan didn’t give a shit about her. These demons were currently holding a useless piece of leverage.
“He’ll play. You saw her with your own eyes. What male wouldn’t lay down his life for a piece of that?”
Blech. Sasha’s stomach turned. If even one of these disgusting demons tried to lay a hand on her, she was going to rip their arms from the sockets. They might’ve thought Ewan would do anything to secure her release, even sacrifice his own life, but the fact of the matter was Sasha wasn’t getting out of here if she didn’t take care of it herself.
“We could keep her,” one of the demons suggested. “Play with her for a bit. It’s not like the berserker will have any use for her once he’s dead.”
The momentary silence was filled with another round of laughter. “That’s not how this works and you know it. He’s going to have to see her with his own eyes. Know she’s safe before he falls under Aronth’s blade. It’s the only way to secure a win.”
Aronth must’ve been the male the demons wanted Ewan to fight. Not that it mattered. Ewan would kill him just like he’d killed all of the others in the battle arena. He was unstoppable. A force of nature. Wild, violent. Without remorse. Nothing and no one would stop him.
“How much longer do we have to keep her here?”
Finally, some information Sasha could use.
“Until the others get their hands on the berserker and secure his cooperation. Once that’s done, we’ll take her to the arena.”
If Sasha could just be patient, she’d have an opportunity to escape. They’d have to take the netting off of her. They’d have to remove the bindings from her wrists and ankles to move her. And when they did, she’d attack.
“She’s still not conscious. What the fuck is up with that?”
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, asshole. Be glad we nearly knocked her brain out of her head. She’s a lot tougher than she looks and you’d be wise to keep your distance.”
Yes, they all would be wise to keep their distance. Because it wouldn’t be long before Sasha got a little revenge of her own.
Ewan hung limp from the ropes that bound his arms and secured him in place. He dangled from the ceiling, strung up like a piece of raw meat, and Ian Gregor was the butcher eager to slice him up. He’d lost all sense of pain hours ago. Gregor wanted to get a point across and he wasn’t going to stop until Ewan got the message loud and clear.
Fucking bastard.
Drew wasn’t much better off. He’d been cut down after Ewan was forced to look at Gregor’s handiwork and then dragged off somewhere in the building to rest and heal. One thing was certain, no one would die at Gregor’s hands tonight. Not when he needed every able body to wage his war. No, he’d simply beat Ewan within an inch of his life over and over again. Allowing him to heal only to pick up where they’d left off. He was being taught a lesson. Obey or suffer the consequences.
“You”—Gregor pointed the tip of his dagger at Ewan for emphasis—“belong to me. You eat because I allow it. You have a roof over your head because I allow it. Your lungs take breath because I allow it. And your heart fucking beats because I allow it!” His last few words ended on an enraged roar that shook the walls around them. Gregor drove the pommel of his dagger into Ewan’s gut. He let out a grunt as his muscles contracted in a last-ditch effort to protect himself. “Do you understand me?”
“Loud and clear.”
His sarcasm earned Ewan a slice of Gregor’s blade across his left biceps. Blood welled from the cut and spilled over his skin before it began to heal. One of the downsides to being such a powerful supernatural creature: torture could go for days on end. Gregor had bigger fish to fry than Ewan, though. He’d cut him loose soon enough. Once he felt as though his point had been made. It would behoove him to grovel and apologize. To beg for Gregor’s mercy. Ewan could put an end to all of this with a few simple words. Trouble was, he’d never been much for throwing in the towel.
“Where’s the money?”
Finally they were getting down to the meat of it. What Gregor really wanted was the money Ewan had won fighting. Funds to add to his coffers to pay for his ridiculous war. A war the Sortiari had long since forgotten, defunded, and abandoned. Too bad Gregor couldn’t take the hint and do the same. His fist made contact with Ewan’s face, breaking his jaw, and sending him swinging from side to side like the punching bag he was. He spat to the side to clear his mouth of blood and wiggled a loose tooth with his tongue.
“Where is the money, Ewan?” Gregor said again slowly and with deadly intent.
Gregor could beat him and cut him into small, bite-sized pieces and Ewan still wouldn’t tell him where the money was. He’d worked hard for that money. Drew had gone through hell for that money. He refused to hand it over just so Gregor could waste it on his vendetta.
“So help me, Ewan, if you don’t tell me where that money is—”
“You’ll what?” Ewan’s words were slurred by his broken jaw that still hadn’t fully healed.
“I’ll kill her,” Gregor said on a hiss. “Slowly. And I’ll make you watch.”
Ewan’s heart stuttered and his breath stalled in his chest. He went still as death as he leveled the one eye not swollen shut at Gregor and allowed it to narrow into a hateful slit.
“Do you really think I’m that daft, Ewan?” Gregor’s accent thickened with his ire. “You talk a good game, but I know the truth.” His lip curled back into a vicious snarl. “I can smell it on you. Betrayer.”
In a few short centuries, eons’ worth of instinct had been beaten out of them by the Sortiari’s cruel indifference and Gregor’s single-minded thirst for violence. A mated male could easily be recognized by scent. Ewan hadn’t even noticed a change in his, but Gregor had and it told him everything he needed to know.
“You’ve debased yourself. Soiled and tainted by a fucking vampire!” The last word left his lips on a roar that cast spittle on Ewan’s face. “You have lain with our sworn enemy!” Gregor continued to rail, his rage so intense he trembled. “Given yourself to her and formed a bond with her!”
Ewan met Gregor’s enraged stare with his one good eye. He refused to deny it. Wouldn’t. He loved Sasha and he was through playing games. Done with cowing in Gregor’s presence. He could beat him bloody every day for the next year and Ewan wouldn’t bow.
Gregor stepped up close and put his mouth to Ewan’s ear. “I am going to make sure her suffering is endless.” The calm of his tone was far more menacing than his angry shouts. “I’m going to starve her. Bleed her. Flay her skin from her with a dull knife.” With every word spoken, Ewan’s anger intensified. Heat pooled in his gut and flooded his limbs, bulging the veins and muscles beneath his skin. “I’m going to break every bone in her body. Smash them to dust.” He pulled back to gaze at Ewan. “I’m going to yank the fangs from her gums and wear them round my neck. Now … before you force me to do all of that and more, where is the money, Ewan?”
Ewan let out a disdainful bark of laughter. He could give Gregor the entire contents of Fort Knox, lay Mikhail Aristov at his feet, and it still wouldn’t save Sasha’s life.
Ewan took a deep, shuddering breath that rattled wetly in his lungs. “What money?”
Onyx swallowed the whites of Gregor’s eyes and bled out onto his cheeks to paint a terrifying portrait of rage. Ewan had taken so much damage over the past couple of days, first from the demons and now this. His body was slower to heal and the nonstop beating, stabbing, and slicing was beginning to take a toll. He wasn’t going to die tonight or any other night, but that wasn’t the point. Ewan had defied Gregor. Time and again. And the warlord king was going to make sure Ewan got what was coming to him for his treachery. First, he’d break him. And then, he’d take everything from him.
Gregor came at him hard. With fists, kicks, slashes, and stabs. Renewed pain radiated throughout every inch of Ewan’s body as his resistance waned. Excruciating. Nearly unbearable. Debilitating. He didn’t so much as groan. He wouldn’t give Gregor the satisfaction. The ropes that bound him dug into his wrists, yanking with each brutal kick Gregor delivered to his torso. A loud pop and a flash of bright heat seared through Ewan’s shoulder as it dislocated. He hung there. Limp. Bloody. Damned near lifeless. Bruised. Battered. Broken and mangled. And still, he managed to keep his fucking jaw welded shut.
“Where is the money, Ewan?”
Gregor controlled his battle rage better than most. He could keep himself on the cusp of losing control. Teetering on the brink of that endless black chasm where memory didn’t exist. He managed to keep his grip on his mind. The situation. His surroundings. His control was astonishing. Probably why no one had been able to best him in a thousand years.
“Gregor.” A tentative voice called from the doorway. Ewan swallowed a snort. Gavin knew better than to step a foot in the room. “The vampire is gone.”
Ewan’s stomach knotted tight. He wanted to feel a sense of relief because there was no doubt the vampire in question was Sasha and Gregor had sent his piece of shit cousin, Gavin to fetch her. They’d no doubt hoped to snatch her before the sun set and had failed. Ewan winced as he tried to smile. Looked like he wouldn’t be the only one Gregor delivered a beating to tonight.
“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” Gregor’s voice grated in his throat.
Gavin cleared his throat. “Not gone. Taken.”
The knot in Ewan’s gut bottomed out. Motherfuckers. He didn’t have to hear another word to know what had happened to Sasha.
“By…?” Gregor let the word hang and gods-damn, the impact was astounding.
“Demons,” Gavin replied. “The scent of sulfur was everywhere. We tracked a small van for a few blocks but lost the scent. They must have used magic to shake us.”
Gregor slashed out with his dagger and cut Ewan down. He crumpled to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut and sucked in a few ragged breaths as he tried to steady his careening world. Without Sasha, Gregor had no leverage and they both knew it. Ewan would have laughed if he hadn’t been so gods-damned terrified. If the demons had Sasha, shit was about to go from bad to worse.
“I’m not done with you!” Gregor pointed his dagger at Ewan as he strode through the doorway, leaving Gavin to stand there, mouth agape.
Gavin threw a disgusted glare Ewan’s way for a few seconds before turning to follow after his so-called king. Thank. Fuck. Now that he was alone, Ewan could get to the business of healing so he could get out of there and find Sasha.
If he couldn’t, he had a feeling the only way out of this fucking mess would be to die tonight.