The screams woke him from a nightmare. Noah had been dying in his arms, and Bella’s body, spewing intestines and bloody residue, had burned on the wooden pyre outside of the shelter.
He roused, gasping, calling out their names…
He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep after eating, but when he woke to the sound of gut-wrenching wailing, his dishes had been removed and a blanket thrown over him. Perhaps his addled, sleepy brain had him jumping to rash conclusions. But with the screams present nearly every night, and his encounters with Maddox so utterly contrived, he couldn’t restrain himself.
He lay there, listening, with his arms by his side. What if Maddox had lied to him and not given his group a life? What if those screams belonged to them? What if…what if the vampires were turning them into bloodsucking monsters, forever shattering the one ounce of hope Vincent clung to?
Sleep still heavy in his limbs, Vincent lunged out of bed and banged a fist on the door.
“Hey, vampire. I need help. I’m fucking pissing blood in here.”
Not that he thought his lie would gain him any interest. But he’d give it a try. To his astonishment, the door popped open, and a young Asian boy, short and grasping a Taser for dear life, stood in the doorway. His puny figure reminded him of Emory on his first hunt. Unprepared and terrified. Vincent noticed the metal collar locked around the boy’s thin neck, and the white clothes worn by the rest of the ‘volunteers’.
“You one of them, too?”
The boy’s dark eyelashes fluttered up and down. “Y-yes. Don’t come any closer. I’ll… I will use this.”
Vincent eyed the Taser, unblinking. “Kid, we both know I could crush you like a fucking fly. But I don’t want to. I want to know what the commotion is all about.”
The freckles on the boy’s nose scrunched up. He looked to be only eighteen, at a push. Younger than his nephew. “I can’t… You’re not allowed out the room until Ezra gets back.”
“Is he your sponsor?”
The boy shook his head.
“Maddox Caine?”
Another shake. Another sickening scream wailing through the hallway. They came from the direction of the kitchen around the dark corner.
“Then who the fuck’s your sponsor?”
He winced at Vincent’s tone of voice. “He’s…he’s no longer in the city. He went away.”
“Can’t you say who he is?”
“I’m not allowed to,” he whispered, his eyes cast down. “He’ll punish me if I say.”
“Then tell me your name, boy.”
Amongst the agonizing screams, Vincent could hear nothing else. And he smelled nothing either, which meant the hallway was a vampire-free zone. If he was careful, he could make by the kitchen without being caught.
“It’s Yuri.”
“Nice to meet you, Yuri. The name’s Vincent, but you probably already know that.”
Vincent stepped forward, and the kid held out the Taser.
“Don’t come any closer,” Yuri breathed, his feeble hands trembling.
“I just want to see what the screaming is. It might be someone who needs help. I can help them.”
One more step, and all Vincent needed was a moment of hesitation… There! The boy looked over his shoulder, and Vincent made his move. He wrestled the Taser from his limp grip, shoved Yuri inside his room, and locked the door. With the soundproofed walls, his pleas were a whisper that fell on deaf ears.
“I’m sorry, kid, but I gotta know.”
I need to know if he’s torturing my people.
He held his breath and passed Maddox’s penthouse, then crept down the hallway and took a turn for the kitchen. A swift peep inside confirmed the stations were devoid of any chef line. It wasn’t like they had someone to cook for once Vincent had fallen asleep.
He made his way to the proceeding staircase, only to jump out of his skin when he crashed into another body.
“There you are! We were just coming to save your lazy ass.” His sister jabbed her bow into the side of Vincent’s stomach. “Umm, is that a Taser? Talk about old school.”
Vincent wrapped his arms around Violet in a tight bear hug. He had never been a loyal man of faith, but he thanked the Gods for the impossible timing of his sister. And Abraham and Joseph overshadowing her, their faces grim and weapons at the ready. They wore their hunting gear, and Vincent had never seen so much color in their faces before. But why had they come, ready for war?
“What on earth you doin’ here, Vy? Abe, Joe?” He released Violet, and she stumbled back with a gasp.
“Breaking you out of here, obviously.” She rolled her dark eyes at him and flicked her purple braid over her shoulders.
“Emory’s gone missing,” Joe explained, placing a hand on Violet’s shoulder.
Since he’d last seen him, Joe had grown a black beard almost as thick as Abraham’s and he’d had a haircut.
“We ain’t convinced this city’s what it’s cracked up to be. Figured you’d need some help getting the hell outta here. I certainly would’ve.”
The screams returned, mixed with irrefutable agony and the clanging of harsh metal.
“Then we heard those,” Abraham added, “and thought… Hell, we thought it was you and the stupid kid. We had do something, you know?”
“I’m fine,” Vincent grumbled, folding his arms. “But you’re right. Emory might be down there, knowing his luck.”
Whatever there was.
Were they really about to do this?
Break out of Sanctuary Hope like walking out of a convenience store with candy in their pockets? It wasn’t impossible if they made it out of the building in one piece. The question was, could they?
Vincent had yearned to see his group, to confirm that were indeed happy and still alive, and all the while they had been planning his escape? He wasn’t totally surprised. They were Dusk Hunters, after all.
And his family.
“Claire and the others?” Vincent asked.
They’d need to assemble everyone before they made a break for the city gates.
“Safe and sound. Once we find Emory, we get them and go.” Violet pointed to the stairs. “Whatever’s down there, we gotta release it, too. Sounds like a dying animal. Sheesh.” She paused, then ruffled Vincent’s hair. “It’s good to see you’re alive, big bro.”
“Fucking likewise. Let’s go.”
Vincent slunk down a spiraled staircase shrouded in pitch-black darkness. Light bled into his eyes the farther he crept, and a figure manning a stainless-steel gate, emerged into sight. He signaled his group to remain hidden in the shadows and approached the vampire.
In comparison to Yuri, the vampire was a heavily armed, with a bulbous nose and two small, pig-like eyes and would certainly give Vincent a run for his money in one-to-one combat.
The guard snapped his head toward him, his wide nostrils flaring. “What are you doing out of your bedroom?”
“You torturing folk down here? Certainly sounds like it.” Vincent held the Taser behind his back and tried another step.
The vampire flashed to his side and pointed his gun. A tranquilizer? What the fuck were they packing behind that gate?
“I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“Then why are you down here?” The guard’s eyes red-shifted, and he nudged his gun against Vincent’s temple.
“I wanted to stretch my legs, then I heard some screaming. Figured I’d come down and check it out.”
“Uh-huh. How about you take that pretty ass of yours back up those stairs before I shoot one of these into your head?”
“Fine. Whatever. Right after I do this.”
Vincent thrust the Taser between the guard’s legs and electrocuted his cock and balls. The vampire may have lost his humanity during transition, but his junk was well and truly intact. He cursed and dropped onto the floor, hissing gloriously as the pain shocked his muscles.
Adrenaline coursed through Vincent’s veins, urging him forward. It had been a while since he’d had the upper hand on his enemy and it felt glorious.
“It’s clear,” Vincent whispered up the stairs, and his group joined him on the bottom floor.
They had to move quickly. Vincent grasped the keys from the guard’s belt and charged for the gate.
However, nothing prepared him for what he saw on the other side.
Cages lined the concrete walls, positioned in a way that represented some perverse kind of dog kennel. Except, they didn’t have dogs inside them, they had naked, sobbing, snivelling, grown-ass humans begging Vincent for help.
“Get me out of here, bro. I didn’t do nothin’ wrong!”
“I have a wife and children in the city. Please, they need me…”
“Hey, man. Can you throw us those keys?”
“Big dog, white dog, big dog, white dog, big dog…black eyes, yes, black eyes…big dog, white dog…”
“I’ll kill every last one of these evil bastards!”
“Just let me fucking out of here!”
Disgust belched up from Vincent’s gut. He swallowed the contents and then spat onto the ground.
“It’s a fucking kennel,” Joe murmured next to him, disbelief watering his eyes. “A kennel for humans.”
“You think?” his sister snapped, stepping forward.
Natural instincts took hold of Vincent. His heart racing, feet pounding, he ran and unlocked the first of the cages, then the next, followed by the others on the left side of the wall. The men rattling their cages swiftly broke free and formed a stampede at the entrance. Violet and Joe helped them out; Abraham made sure the guard remained unconscious, keeping his sword unsheathed as a precaution.
Vincent ran to the opposite wall and grasped at the cages. Prisoners wailed for him to free them. His hands shook as he thrust the key into the locks, twisted, and moved on to the next.
He freed an old man, an adolescent girl with shaved hair and piercings, twin brothers who had been huddled together, a middle-aged couple who’d rubbed their feces all over the walls. None of the prisoners had shared an attribute linking them together.
Except their humanity.
So this is the hope Maddox has given his people? A human slaughterhouse?
Vincent unlocked all the cages but one.
Just he and the last prisoner remained.
He would free the captive, then he’d get his group the hell out of Sanctuary Hope and never look back. He was relieved that none of the prisoners, so far, had been Emory. That meant there was still a chance he’d been spared.
Vincent ran to the last cage, but as he reached for the lock, a high-pitched scream wailed through the kennels. Joseph, hunched at the entrance, dropped to his knees one by one and grasped a knife that had been thrust into his stomach. The color draining from Joe’s face and a naked figure loping through the entrance, Violet screamed like she had never done in her entire life.
He abandoned the last cage and ran to them. Everything came to a stop. Vincent’s breathing constricted, and his body lifted into the air. His feet dangled off the ground, and Maddox Caine, with features Vincent had been waiting to see, glared up at him.
The vampire had turned into a bona fide monster.
His refined features had merged into wiry, corded bone structures that made his teeth gleam like daggers in the light. Darkness seeped from his flesh, and curved horns protruded from his skull. Those normally gray, impassive eyes were reptilian, large, azure, with black eyeballs and not a glimmer of humanity.
So this is what a First Born looks like, huh? Then let the bastard try to kill me!
Maddox did not kill Vincent. At least, not yet. He held him in the air, strangling him to the point of seeing stars, and when he spoke, Vincent did not connect the disembodied voice to the governor of Hope.
It was mechanical. Demonic.
“Have you any idea what you have done?”
“Freed them… We freed them,” Vincent gasped, breathless. His vision blurred with pain, and in the vague distance, Joseph bled out in a pool of his own blood. “Run… Violet…”
But his sister remained weeping over her husband, cradling his waning body.
“By freeing those animals, you jeopardized my city’s safety. Your own blood.”
Maddox’s grip tightened. His claws were like twin vices latched around Vincent’s neck, squeezing in an attempt to make his head explode. Then the pressure evaporated, and Vincent puddled onto the floor, wheezing and coughing despise his best efforts.
Just how fucking powerful were the First Borns?
The claws seized Vincent’s shoulder-length hair. Maddox hauled him through the kennel, past his sister, up the stairs, and into his cell. By the time they had reached his room, the black aura radiating from Maddox had vanished and he had reverted to his original form. But his eyes remained cobalt, fused with that impenetrable, inky darkness. Similar black veins writhed around his eye sockets and temple. All but two of the elongated canines persisted.
“Today, you pleased me, then you had to destroy that by defying me.” Maddox thrust Vincent onto his knees, who, despite his size, struggled for air. “Were you even aware as to what those people were?”
“People… They were people.”
That’s what they were, and you kept them caged like rats!
Maddox reached into his suit pocket, his eyes pinning Vincent to the spot. “They were convicts.”
Vincent tried to rise, but his balance fell short, and his legs wobbled like gelatine. He had no strength to move. The adrenaline had soaked his body of everything, including his will to fight.
A pair of scissors, the ones Maddox had used for gardening, glinted in the lights.
“I know why you freed them.” Maddox prowled toward him, the scissors at hand. “You thought they were innocents. That I had imprisoned civilians and fed from them like a bloodthirsty, desperate wolf.” He grabbed on to Vincent’s sweater, and in one effortless manoeuvre, shredded the material from his body. Then his pants. His dignity. “But I was not the wolf within that den, Vincent. Those prisoners were.”
He snagged Vincent’s hair and yanked his head back with a rough pull. The scissors flitted over his skull, brushed over his long locks, then they snipped.
Maddox held him in a practiced hold, and Vincent could do nothing but watch as his hair drifted around him like lost feathers. The tresses Bella had delighted in mocking for their length, but at night, when they lay together, exhausted and content, she would run her fingers through as he dozed into slumber; the hair Noah had snagged with his small, inquisitive, infant hands; the hair that had defined Vincent Hudson as the proud leader of his own group, now…gone.
“I admired your selflessness when you volunteered for your group. Now, I pity your stupidity.”
Vincent held perfectly still, all too aware of how close the blades had come to flesh. His heart pounded so violently he struggled to hear what Maddox said; the thrashing of vessels thrumming against a cage drowned out his surroundings.
Snip, snip. Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip.
More hair drifted to the floor.
“I told you Hope had no crime. That is because those who commit one are sent to me. It is I who decide their sentence, and those who have no hope for redemption are sentenced to life within my feeding quarters. Yes, Vincent. Feeding quarters.” Another slice, the bangs around his face, then his crown. “Murderers. Rapists. Child abusers. It is they who decide their fate the moment they destroy another’s, not I. And yet you freed them.” He circled around Vincent, one hand at his throat, the other flashing the scissors. “But at what cost? Your own brethren.”
Through the anger darkening his eyesight, Vincent watched his hair fall repeatedly on the floor. Maddox cut, he yanked, he tossed his hair aside until all had been ripped from Vincent…including his identity.
“You freed those convicts because you dwell in the past. Your wife, your hunting, your what-could-have-been. It is about time you let go of those memories and accept your life under my rule. I am your master, Vincent. It is me who you obey regardless of the command. Nobody else matters to you.” He lifted Vincent’s chin. “Do you understand me?”
Vincent wrenched his jaw from the vampire’s grip. His action had spoken louder than any words.
“Very well.” Maddox sighed his disapproval and looked down his nose at him. “Tomorrow, you will accompany me to an event, and I expect you to be properly attired. You no longer deserve the luxury of clothes. You will be naked. Your additional amenities will be stripped from you in the morning. Oh, and until I decide otherwise, your sister will be held as my prisoner.”
Maddox veered toward the door, paused, glanced back. “Choices, Vincent. They have consequences.”
With that, he was gone.
Stripped of his dignity, his identity, and his victory of seemingly freeing those ‘innocents’, Vincent screamed from the top of his lungs and plunged a fist into his puddle of discarded hair. The tiles cracked all the way to the ceiling, shattering the concrete.