Varick
The Helsings insisted I watched the games. In part, to remind me what awaited me if I disobeyed them. And, I suspected, to keep the spectators in line, too. The Helsings may have had me under control, but the men didn't know that, and I was certain they were left to make their own conclusions about me. To them, I was one of the vicious Vs like those out in the game, tearing the heads off innocent girls. Well, as innocent as their criminal records showed.
Taking girls from prisons was a new idea brought in from the last generation of Helsings. In the modern age, it wasn't as easy to abduct women without the whole world finding out. So the idea was to choose women that few people cared about and Charm anyone who questioned their disappearance. Charming guards into believing a prisoner had died in the night was simpler than convincing the whole world to stop looking for some innocent country girl. The sad truth was, no one cared about anyone who had landed themselves in a maximum security prison. And no one would listen to their families either.
It sat better with the Helsings, too, knowing the girls were a bunch of murderers and felons themselves. They even preached it to their new clients, so they needn't feel guilty for participating in the blood sport. Not that I thought the spectators cared either way. The numbers had remained remarkably similar for hundreds of years, and I for one, had witnessed the dark nature of these men.
The auditorium was laden with velvet chairs and betting tables where the men could spend more money as they kept one eye on the screens surrounding the room. I sat in the crescent of seats at the edge of the room, remaining in the shadows. My eyes were pinned on the screen showing Selena, curled around a fire.
I'd nearly bitten off my tongue when she'd lost her stake. Now she would have to reach the first checkpoint without a weapon. And though this may have been the easiest round of the game, with just four Vampires released to hunt them, she still had drastically reduced her chances of survival by losing it. My hopes of her survival were, of course, rooted in the fact I got to drink from the winners. And her blood was like nothing I'd ever smelt. The problem was, the Vs in the game would soon figure that out, too. Making her a prime target. And the thought was driving me mad.
My eyes flicked to another girl: the redhead who had arrived with Selena. She'd reached the hot springs on the island and was huddled around a steaming geezer. That area of the island was probably the safest. The scent of the sulphur would cover the girls' own, and the hot water would keep them alive. The only problem was, the Vs knew that. And it wouldn't be long before they ran a sweep through that area to see if any of the girls had stumbled upon it. The advantage was always with them. Unless the Vs were recently turned, they knew the island like the back of their hand. And the games were the only time they were let loose from their holding cells.
If it were me, I'd have been as ravenous as they were. When a Vampire was deprived of blood for months, there was nothing left of us but thirst. So, in a twisted way, I pitied them.
A cry went up across the room as a bald, portly man won a hand at poker. He gathered up the chips which were coloured red, stamped with the H of the Helsings. Money and blood, that's what this place was home to. Not much different from the sea life I'd once lived. But I'd never seen myself like these men. At least back then I had bet my life in a hand for gold, and blood had been spilt from my enemies, not in some organised game.
I'd always managed to keep a healthy distance from this scene, showing my face only as much as I had to during the season. Now, I sat rigidly in my chair and didn't plan on vacating it until I was sent to the first checkpoint to meet with today's survivors. I wondered how quickly they would realise that polar night currently reigned on this island. If any of them were waiting for the sun to rise and save them, they'd be sorely disappointed.
“Varick!” Abraham's voice boomed across the hall.
I tilted my head in acknowledgement as he marched toward me through the crowd. He was dressed in a smart suit and tie, his huge form towering above most of the heads in the room.
As he reached the bottom of the seating area, he jerked his chin, commanding that I come down.
Bored already by whatever conversation he wanted to have with me, I rose gracefully from my seat and moved toward him.
A hush fell over the room as the men closest to me noticed my movement, all eyes drawn to mine. As I halted on the last step before Abraham, he shot out a hand and took hold of my shirt, tugging roughly forward. I resisted his Hunter strength, but the menace in his eyes warned me to comply.
“Do you want a shot of silver in front of the entire room?” he snarled, threateningly reaching into the inside of his jacket, no doubt to retrieve the remote that could unleash a torrent of pain on me.
I dropped off the last step, brushing the creases from my shirt that his fist had made. “Now, now, Abraham. We both know you'd be hard pressed to do that. I'm your obedient little pet, remember? You wouldn't want your buddies to think otherwise.”
He gave me a cold stare through his deep blue eyes. “Even a dog needs a kick every now and then to keep it in line.”
I growled at him, baring my teeth. “Go ahead. Kick the dog.”
Abraham moved strategically in front of me so his towering height just about blocked me from sight of the room.
“Fetch Mercy for me. She hasn't shown her face since the game started. I need her out here, talking to our clients.”
“You mean flirting money out of them,” I growled. Mercy had recently turned eighteen, and her father had no shame in flaunting her beauty in front of the spectators. It worked like a charm.
I, however, was less fond of the girl. She'd taken it upon herself to taunt me for her own amusement, trying to tempt me into wanting her like she did every other man that passed through this castle.
“Just fetch her,” Abraham snapped before walking away.
With a final glance at Selena on the towering screen, I headed up to the east tower, in no particular hurry to see Mercy.
When I knocked on her door, she called, “Come in!”
I pushed inside, finding the girl sprawled out on the golden sheets of her bed in nothing but a lacy bra and knickers. Her endlessly blonde locks flowed around her like a silky pool.
“Get dressed, your father wants you downstairs,” I demanded, turning on my heel to leave.
“Stop,” she commanded and my shoulders tensed as I paused in the doorway. My senses were rife with her blood. She was the only one of the Helsings who didn't rub garlic oil onto her skin. Another temptation for my benefit. The little witch.
But the only reason I wanted to sink my teeth into Mercy's neck, was to get my revenge on the family I despised more than anything in the world.
Mercy swung her olive-tan legs over the bed, moving toward me, shrugging on a see-through sliver of chiffon she evidently deemed a robe.
As she approached, her wide, sea blue eyes swept over me. The remote that all of them carried hung around her neck on a silver chain. She was encouraged to keep it there by her father who believed her to be the most appealing to me. And I had no doubt I could kill Mercy if I wanted to. She let her guard down often, all in the name of exerting her power over me. She knew I'd never touch her, I'd be signing my own death warrant if I did.
“I thought they might send you,” she said with a smirk, pulling up her coral-pink lips.
“Is that why you were laid out on the bed like an afternoon snack?” I remarked, baring my teeth so she backed up, but only half a step.
The flitter of fear in her eyes turned to excitement. She was perhaps the most twisted of the family, drawn to the danger in me. But she was playing with fire and she knew it.
“Don't worry, Mercy.” I sneered. “I'd sooner drink sewage water than your blood.” I wanted to my words to dig at her, but we both knew how much I craved her blood.
She twisted a strand of her hair around her finger, her brow furrowing in offense. “Come on, Varick.” She stepped closer, splaying a hand across my chest. “There must be some man left in there.” Her hand sailed lower and I caught her wrist at my waistband, crushing it in my fist.
She let out a squeak of pain, but I didn't let go. “I'll tell Father,” she warned.
“You'll tell him what? That you flaunted yourself in front of me?” I released her wrist and she cupped it in her other hand, looking wounded.
“The other men look at me, why don't you?” She pouted, looking very much the teenager that she was.
“Because the only reason I'd ever touch you, Mercy, is to drain every drop of that delicious blood of yours.” I stepped forward but she stood her ground.
Sweeping her hair aside, she bared her neck. “Prove it.”
I rolled my eyes, but my tongue burned with thirst. “Go downstairs. I won't ask you again.”
She played with the tassels on her pathetic excuse for a robe, regarding me. “What will you do if I say no?”
“Throw you over my shoulder and deliver you to your father as you are. Dressed or not.” I shrugged. “I don't really give a damn.”
She huffed, storming away from me and grabbing a blood-red dress from the ornate wardrobe. Slinking out of her robe, it fluttered to the floor as she pulled the dress over her head. It was hardly much less revealing than if she had remained in her underwear, but I didn't really care. I wanted to get back to the auditorium. For all I knew, Selena could already be dead. When the Vs attacked, they didn't waste much time in killing their victims. Not until they'd fed a little, at least. Then the nastier side of the game came out. It was probably a blessing for some of the girls to have died first. Because if a V caught them after they'd been fed, they were more likely to toy with their food.
They weren't stupid, they knew the Helsings and their vile clients were watching. And some of the Vs revelled in putting on a show for them.
When we returned to the auditorium, Mercy melted into the crowd, immediately descended on by the lustful onlookers in the room.
Abraham stood upon a stage at the far end, clasping his hands together. “Good evening gentlemen. Tonight, the contestants will arrive at the first checkpoint. In order to let both you and they rest, the time they spend there won't be broadcast.”
A murmur of assent went up. “No doubt they'll need a good rest for tomorrow!” called one of the regular game attendants, his shiny, slicked-back hair catching my eye. Brice Edgewater was an Australian beef farmer who had more money than grains of sand on his million acre farm in the outback. It was his third year at the games and he had a streak of picking the winners.
Abraham gestured to me with his chin. “Varick will be heading out to meet the girls and prepare them for tomorrow.”
I stood, making my way through the crowd. The men shifted out of my way with haste, tucking the tails of their coats beneath them. I took my time, basking in their fear. Mercy brushed her fingers over my spine, showing me off to the men as her glorified pet.
I shrugged past her, meeting Abraham as he descended from the stage. “The supplies are waiting at the lighthouse. Make sure any girls who survive are well rested for tomorrow.”
He gave me a hard stare and I sighed. It was always the same old warnings, as if I would betray him and drink from the competitors. I wasn't fool enough to do so. I knew the value they held to the Helsings and I wasn't going to risk my own neck for the sake of a drink. No matter how desperate I became.
“Of course, sir.” I gave him a mocking bow of my head, moving past him toward the exit. Slipping through the wooden door, I picked up my pace, speeding through the castle toward the bridge.
I knew I was making haste for another reason. I didn't want to waste a second not watching the game. Every moment I was away from the screen, was another moment a V could have stumbled upon Selena. Could have drained her body of life, left her slumped in the snow like a beautiful, broken doll. Ever since I'd first smelled her blood at the British prison, I couldn't force her from my mind. She'd inched her way into my body like a splinter under my skin. No doubt it was due to the desperate hunger I was currently a slave to. The Helsings had been stingier than ever before this game. I should have been fed two weeks ago, but still they denied me blood.
The lighthouse was on the western coast, on a splinter of rock that protruded from the island. It had long since been retired, but the structure still remained; it had originally been built to warn trade ships of the rocky shore. But no ships took this route any longer. The Helsings had made sure of that.
I had over ten hours before time ran out to reach the checkpoint. But in the past, some of the girls would make it there in a few hours. It was a bold tactic, but it often worked. The Vs spent the first couple of rounds weeding off the weaker prey. Much as they were a slave to this game, their enjoyment of the hunt meant they wanted the game to continue for as long as possible. The final rounds were always a blood bath. And though the girls didn't know it, sometimes there was no survivors in this game. The last one to the grave would take the metaphorical crown, for all the good it did them.
I made my way across the frosty landscape, skirting the edge of the island so I wouldn't run into any of the girls. But from time to time, I smelt them on the wind, a mixture of sweat, blood and tears. Someone was injured, and it wouldn't be long before they were hunted down. Even a paper-cut was a death sentence out here. Bodily odours could be covered well enough with mud, or the pungent sulphurous steam of the hot springs on the southern shore. But our senses were finely tuned to the metallic scent of blood, so much so that I could smell a drop of it a mile away.
With the island rife with animals, however, from wild wolves to the caribou in the northern forest, our senses were dulled slightly. I supposed the Helsings had planned it as such, to give the girls a slither of a chance.
I reached the towering white lighthouse and hurried across the rocky outcrop in a burst of speed. Wrenching open the metal door at the bottom, I hurried up the twisting stairway. At the top, another door parted me from the room inside. The place was damp and cold, disused since the previous games last winter. It was my job to make it comfortable for the girls and I was certain to make that a priority, as soon as I'd projected the footage on the far wall.
The game flashed to life and several boxes split across it, the hidden cameras trained on the surviving contestants. It took me three seconds to locate Selena and a small sigh passed my lips as I spotted her alive, still inside the cave. But she wasn't alone.