Kite
“Plenus annis abiit, plenus honoribus.” The priest bowed his head, the moon shining on the bald patch atop it.
In the shadow of the looming castle, the Helsings surrounded a grave. Ignus was no sore loss to the world. But I stood diligently at Abraham's side, his hand wrapped around the chain that led to my muzzle. I supposed I was one of the luckier Vampires. Even if what came next tonight would be hard to stomach. But I'd swallow it whole if it meant I kept my feet on earth another day.
The balding priest scattered dirt across the shining black coffin in the open grave. The entire household staff had been gathered, dressed in black, keeping their heads bowed respectfully. I wondered how many of them actually cared Ignus was dead. One of the women from the labs let out a small sob and I couldn't fight the urge to tut.
Liar. You can't have liked him.
Ignus had been a disgusting creep. A sadistic little weirdo. The world was a better place without him.
Mercy was dressed in an inappropriately short black dress but, of all the Helsings, she seemed the most affected by Ignus's death, continually wiping tears from under her eyes. Katherine was a statue, her eyes hard as stone as she gazed down into her son's grave, her golden hair billowing out behind her in the wind. Abraham's reaction was the one I feared the most. Because I knew what he was about to do.
Beside us was what I hadn't wanted to face for the entire funeral – and I was still trying not to look. I finally failed. Rows of Vs were lined up, thirty in total, all with bags over their heads. Their hands were bound with chains that tethered them to metal posts planted in the ground.
I fought a grimace, angling myself away from them.
Suck it up, Kite. You're still alive. That's what matters.
The priest finished his service and Abraham walked to his side, patting his arm. I was dragged after him by my chain, planting my feet before the priest who gave me a probing look. Something flickered through his eyes, something that didn't belong on this island. Pity.
“Abraham, I know you have been through very much,” the priest said, his voice as frail as his appearance. “But to call a funeral so quickly when you haven't even had time to process your son's death-”
“It is best he's in the ground,” Abraham said firmly. “I needed it to be dealt with.” His shoulders were tense, the only thing betraying the weakness inside him. The way he dealt with grief was fury. I'd heard it all the way back from the Isle of Lidelse. The boat ride had been grim. I'd been tied up with half the Vs they'd recaptured and watched as Abraham took them one at a time. I listened to their screams as he did god-knows-what to them. So long as it wasn't me, I was content. Well, perhaps content was kind of overkill when it came to my situation. But I was still alive. So I supposed I had to be grateful.
“Abraham...” The priest tried to steer him out of earshot of the staff, but he stood firm. “Isn't it time you stopped all these games? You are toying with the devil's creatures. Soulless beings that are tormented by demons. Put them out of their misery. End this madness.”
Like a shot, Abraham's hand came down on the man's shoulder. “I thank you for your service, Father. Truly, it was good of you to come so quickly.”
“Abraham-” he tried again.
“This is my birthright. As my father did before me, I will put Vampires under my heel. Where they belong. As a reminder to the world what we saved the human race from.”
“And what of the humans you pit against them? Do they deserve such a fate?” The old man's upper lip was sweating now.
My curiosity piqued and I stepped closer – a move that didn't go unnoticed by Abraham.
“Prisoners, Father. Killers, wastes of good oxygen.” Abraham shrugged his heavy shoulders.
“That is not for you to decide,” the priest said, suddenly stern, turning his face to the sky. Or God, as he probably thought. To me, God was a safety blanket. One I'd once prayed to when I was little and needed saving. He hadn't answered. So if he was up there, living in the clouds, my miracle must have gotten lost in the post.
Abraham's hand hadn't lifted from the priest's shoulder. “I don't expect you to understand my work, Father. But I do expect you to stay out of it.”
The priest visibly gave in under Abraham's intense gaze. I probably would have too, seeing as he looked like he was ready to murder someone.
Abraham turned away, dragging me after him, but the priest's voice sailed to us, making my stomach clench nervously.
Don't push him, old man.
“Is it all about the money?”
Abraham halted, but didn't look back. My eyes remained on him, my 'master', as his jaw ticked dangerously. You never take your eyes off a wild animal. And that was what Abraham was, through and through. I'd met people like him in prison, losing their shit at any moment, having shanks hidden up their sleeves, razor blades sewn into their clothes. I knew danger and he was it.
“Daddy...” Mercy whimpered, moving closer. “Don't.” She offered me a passing look.
Abraham's knuckles were white. I could see the urge in him to punish the priest for his insolence. Instead, he strode over to a heavy-looking box that sat before the bound Vampires. Wrenching it open, he pulled out three rifles, passing one to his wife and one to his daughter.
They lined up before the Vs and Abraham linked my chain through a metal loop on his belt so he didn't have to release me. Not that I would have gone anywhere. Not when the Helsings had three high-powered rifles and seemed ready to shoot anyone who made one wrong move.
Mercy didn't lift her weapon, I noticed.
“Every second V,” Abraham muttered before opening fire.
My heart thumped into life, but all I felt was horror as I watched Vampire after Vampire crumple to their knees. Both Abraham and Katherine's shots were clean, efficient, perfectly aimed.
I stared, endlessly, absorbing every death like it was my own. And suddenly I was doing something that wasn't like me at all. I threw myself at Abraham. I just needed a split-second distraction. Maybe I'd be strong enough to snap his neck.
Maybe-
He knocked me to the ground with a swipe of his arm, the barrel of his rifle swinging down to face me. I gazed into the endless black hole, seeing my death. A death I'd already faced. He'd dragged me back out of oblivion and put me here at his side. The girl who'd died twice, that's what I'd be. And no one would care. Not a single soul on this entire planet.
I raised my palms in defeat, cursing my idiocy.
“If one more V rises up against me, I'll kill the damn lot of you!” Abraham roared, whipping the gun back toward the line-up and pulling the trigger over and over.
I shut my eyes, the earth vibrating beneath me. I felt every thump as the Vs hit the ground. Ignus's death had borne more death. And I knew it wasn't over. Far from it.
◐ ☼ ◐
Abraham had a fistful of my hair, dragging me into a room back at the Helsings' castle. Apparently the chain attached to my muzzle wasn't worth using anymore. No, he was going to take out his anger on me. All of that pent-up, animalistic rage I sensed in him was going to be unleashed. And I'd just unwittingly decided to make myself the target.
“Let me go, you pig!” my voice rang around the metal muzzle over my mouth, echoing in my ears. I despised the stupid thing. My senses were tenfold, so every time I spoke it sounded like a klaxon going off in my head. It reminded me of the prison alarm. Buzzing for breakfast. Buzzing for lunch. Buzzing for dinner. I'd hated that noise. And now it was following me into my afterlife.
Abraham shoved me forward. He was impossibly strong. Easily enough to match my Vampire strength. Especially as I was kept half-starved. I was given just enough blood to keep me in line, but not enough to give me the strength to fight back. A lesson I'd just learned the hard way.
I stumbled into the room, but quickly regained my feet, spinning around to face him. I was in a luxurious bedroom with a velvet armchair and a large rug beside a king-size bed.
I faced Abraham head-on as he started rolling up his sleeves. Stepping forward, he produced a key from his back pocket and roughly removed the headgear from my jaw with a snapping of metal clasps. I gasped, lifting my fingers to my cheeks to feel them, skin on skin.
“This room now belongs to you,” Abraham announced.
I glanced around, unable to believe I'd just avoided a severe punishment and been given a gift instead.
“Any idea how I feel right now, V?” He dropped the muzzle to the ground with a harsh clang.
I shook my head, but I knew really, because his eyes spoke of the anger inside him like I was gazing into two pits of hellfire.
“Well...let me tell you. My son is dead. Brutally murdered by the Vampire who used to occupy this room. The game my great grandfather built from the ground up has been damaged, perhaps beyond repair, considering I will be hard-pushed to bring my clients back here after they watched their friends get torn apart.”
I took a wary step back, sensing a violent air to his movements. He stalked toward me, a Hunter in full form, his hands curled into fists. Oh no. I'd misjudged this moment. Prison life wasn't serving me as well as it used to when it came to survival.
“And I want a taste of revenge. I deserve it don't I, Vampire? You and your kind have done this to me. Only fair I get my pound of flesh for it.”
“So you'll go after them?” I guessed, unsure if I cared or not. Selena, I liked. The others, I could take or leave. But Selena hadn't spared a thought for me before she'd high-tailed it off of that island. Surely it wouldn't have been too hard to bring me with her?
“Yes, I'll get them back for sure.” He sneered, gazing down at me with a terrifying fury. “When I'm finished with you.”
Before I could move, his knuckles cracked across my cheek. I stumbled back in shock, but the throbbing pain eased to nothing as my body healed itself. I snarled as he launched at me again, this time avoiding the swing of his fists.
“You think you can take on me? A trained Hunter?!” he roared. “You have no idea what I'm capable of.”
He prowled toward me and I mirrored every step he took to keep away from him. I wouldn't have said I was scared exactly. I'd been in plenty of prison brawls. But I was pissed off. Pissed off at this bear of a man taking his anger out on me. Pissed off that I hadn't truly gotten to enjoy the benefits of being a V because of my imprisonment – and I was convinced there were benefits. Pissed off that I was alone and had to fight for my own goddamn self as always. And pissed off that I was definitely going to lose this fight.
Abraham's second blow brought me to the floor. I never cried out, just crumpled like a piece of paper onto the bed. Two things worth learning in prison fast; pick your battles, and know when to surrender. And I was starting to think this fight was better avoided.
Abraham's hands were around my throat in seconds. I may not have needed to breathe, but it still hurt like hell.
“Get off,” I snarled through my teeth.
“You want to know what it took to break Varick?” Abraham brought his face within inches of mine.
I remained silent, but he supplied me the answer anyway.
“My father drained him of blood every day, in every possible way he could dream up. Until he finally fell in line. Is that what it'll take from you, kitten?”
I went rigid. That word undid me. Simple and inoffensive as it was. Kitten.
Love you, kitten.
I shrieked like a banshee, slashing my nails across his face and tearing the skin open. I was on my feet in a flash, speeding toward the door, through it, into the corridor. I moved faster than I knew was possible. But as I hit the stairs, pain exploded in the back of my head. I tumbled forward, crashing down the stone steps, bones breaking from the impact. Crack, crack, crack.
I shuddered as I hit the bottom step, silver pouring through my skull from the capsule embedded in the back of my head, disabling me.
And I thought of her. One of the only people I'd ever loved. Let her fill up my mind as the pain eased, my body healed itself, only soon to be broken again by Abraham, no doubt.
Meaty hands took hold of me and I let Abraham carry me back to the room. The remote control that could leak silver into my brain was clamped in his hand.
When he was finished with me, I was left on the bed, blood soaking into the sheets around me. The cuts were healed, but I'd never forget what he'd done. How he'd battered my body until the bruises seemed to remain on the inside of my skin. Where they would live on forever. He was trying to make me his. Trying to bury whatever illusions I had of escaping. To teach me that whatever he asked of me would be done, or else I'd return here, to be beaten into submission once more.
Prison. I was back. But it was a place I knew well. And Abraham underestimated me. Because the shit he'd just pulled on me, I'd pulled on new inmates a hundred times. The problem was, I wasn't top bitch anymore. I was bottom of the food chain. I just had to figure out how to rise to the summit again.
After a while, the door reopened and I didn't move as someone approached the bed. Mercy's tan legs came into view beneath her short dress. She was truly beautiful which only made her cruelty more abhorrent somehow.
She sniffed as she gazed at me and I glanced up, finding her crying. Hadn't known the Helsings were capable of such a thing...
“How could you attack my father? At my brother's funeral?”
I found my way into a sitting position, gazing calmly at her. Of all the Helsings, Mercy didn't frighten me. Because, unlike the rest of her family, she was a coward. “I'm glad he's dead.”
She slapped me and I didn't flinch, the strike nothing in comparison to her father's fists. Did she even possess the strength the rest of her family were so notorious for?
“Don't you dare,” she snarled, her lower lip trembling.
“I will dare, Mercy. Because no matter how much your father uses me as a punching bag...no matter what your parents make me do, what they ask of me, I will always speak the truth to you.” I stood, coming eye to eye with her. “And the truth is, your brother was a sadistic little psycho. A freak. Tell me I'm wrong. Go on.”
She scowled, her pale brows pulling together. “I'd never talk ill of him.”
“But you think ill of him.” I shrugged. “Same difference.”
She raised a hand to hit me again but this time I caught her wrist. “Uh-uh, puppy.”
She yanked her wrist free, thrusting up her chin. “I'm taking a boat to scout out where Varick and the others are hiding.”
“Great. Hope you drown.” I shouldered past her but she caught my wrist, her gaze suddenly desperate.
“You're coming with me – Daddy's orders.”
My skin prickled at the mention of Abraham. I considered her words. I was pretty sure I'd rather be stuck on a boat with Blondie than her fist-swinging father. And I definitely had more chance of escaping under Mercy's watch than I did from either of her parents. I just had to figure out how to remove the capsule of silver from my head...
“When do we leave?”
She straightened her spine, evidently trying to gain authority over me. “Now.”