Jess Haines - Enslaved By the Others

“And then he can’t use you to infiltrate whatever wolf pack that infection is connected to. Too bad, so sad,” Gideon said, throwing an arm dramatically over his eyes as Fabian and Max both glared at him. Clearly this was not something they had intended to make me privy to just yet—the key to how Max intended to use me.

As much as I didn’t want to believe either of them, wanted to think it was just another ploy to mess with my head, I couldn’t deny the evidence. Gideon had used the same tactic on me as he had with Sara; riled me up to bring my weaknesses to light so he could exploit them. What worried me more than the necromancer manipulating me or even the thought of dying because of whatever was in my blood was why Max cared enough to fix it—and what price he’d make me pay for my continued survival.

“Kneel.”

I glared, remaining exactly where I was.

Max repeated the command, and I felt the pressure of his will behind it this time, forcing me to obey. “I told you to kneel. Get down and be still.”

Both of my knees cracked on the tile, a jolt of pain driving through them, then up my wrists and forearms almost to the elbow as I caught myself before I fell in a sprawl. I stayed that way, panting, staring at the curved claws biting into the pale rose-colored ceramic.

The evidence of the taint in my blood was right before my eyes. Undeniable.

I was Other.

And Max still had the power to control me.

Worse. He had Sara. He had everything he needed to make me a cooperative little puppet, and it didn’t take binding or turning me to do it.

Gideon crouched down in front of me. “Look up.” I did, staring at but not really seeing those magnificent, glowing green eyes of his. I flinched when his palm settled over my heart, but couldn’t break away from his gaze or touch. He didn’t say anything, but I felt ... different. Cold spread in my veins, making me shiver. All the hairs on my arms rose, and the scent of something rich and sweet sparked a sudden, fierce hunger, made stronger with every thud of what sounded like muted drums beating in my ears.

The hunger grew sharper as a dull throb of pain in my gums was followed by the taste of copper on my tongue. I turned away, clapping a hand over my mouth, a combination of disgust warring with the hunger that grew so strong at the hint of blood rolling over my taste buds that it was turning into hurt.

Unsatisfying. My own.

‘Don’t let them see the fangs. Work with me and I’ll get you two out of here.’

An intrusion into my head, complete with a range of foreign emotions and nebulous desires. Fear for someone else. Calculation. Deception. Like the belt—but not. I almost gaped at Gideon before I remembered to keep my mouth shut, though my eyes were wide as he put on a look of disgust that was so convincing I might have bought it if he hadn’t just been in my thoughts.

“There isn’t enough vamp blood in there for me to work with. Or she’s stronger than you thought,” Gideon declared, rising again and rocking back on his heels, arms akimbo. He was lying through his teeth to his lover and his lover’s sire—and I had no idea why. What game was he playing? “My, my. You did mess this one up, didn’t you?”

Fabian gave the necromancer a look of warning as Max made a soft hissing sound.

“Thank Rhathos for this mess,” was Max’s reply. “He never did know how to care for his toys.”

“And you do?” I muttered, scrubbing the back of my hand over my mouth. It came away smeared with black and red, and I wondered exactly what part of my freakish nature had put that fresh look of terror in Sara’s eyes as she scooted away from me. Better to focus on that than the desire to pounce, drag her closer, sink my teeth into—

No. Not her. Never her.

Gideon dangled something green at me, drawing my eye. A handkerchief that stank of chloroform and, under that, rotting meat. Blanching, I waved off his offer, moving over to stay as close as Sara would have me without flinching away.

“Well,” Max said, “I suppose there’s only one way to guarantee cooperation, then.”

Fabian nodded, that high-wattage smile slipping just a tad. “Of course. You may have her, sire. All that is mine is yours to command.”

Gideon said nothing, but there was a new scent under the herbs and chemicals clinging to his skin and clothes—something that told me he didn’t like what Fabian’s statement implied. For a second, I thought Fabian meant me, but then Max moved and removed all doubt.

Max did not bother to acknowledge Fabian’s offer, but he did move closer to us, once again reaching for Sara. Whether it was done to deliberately provoke me or not, I didn’t have the self-control to keep from swiping at him, a growl rumbling in my throat.

He backhanded me so hard, I think I might have blacked out for a minute.

As soon as awareness trickled back, I reached for Sara, hoping to shield her before Max could lay a hand on her—but she wasn’t there. Blinking hard, I looked around, fighting the woozy unreality that made everything seem so hazy in my vision. The blobs of color a few feet away soon reformed into the figure of Sara, seated in one of the chairs, her head hanging and blond hair a shining curtain in front of her face. The zombies were holding her arms, keeping her pinned, while Max waited next to them and Gideon leaned against the far wall, pointedly looking away.

“Shiarra, we’re going to try something new.” Max snapped his fingers, then pointed at a spot by his feet. “Come. Kneel here.”

I spat a bit of blood in his general direction and gave him a one-fingered salute instead, keeping my ass planted right where I was. Gideon’s smirk made me feel better about my little act of defiance, even though I was sure I would pay for it later.

Max didn’t appear too troubled by this. He reached out to Sara, one hand tangling in her hair and jerking her head up. She grimaced, obviously in pain, but didn’t make a sound. His other hand swiped down her cheek, leaving behind a thin line of red that soon trickled in a sheet of blood down her pale skin. Fabian’s look of boredom as he watched all this from against the wall next to Gideon somehow made it even worse.

Eyes widening, I struggled to get to my feet, but Max must have struck me too hard. I couldn’t get my balance, earning more bruises as I stumbled and fell.

“Kneel as I told you, or I’ll do the same to the other side of her face. You wouldn’t want that on your conscience, now, would you?”

“You heartless fuck,” I said, tongue thick in my mouth, something sharp biting into my lip as I spoke. “Touch her again and I’ll kill you.”

The threat might have held more weight if I’d been able to stand while I delivered it. His nail swiped in a matching line down the other side of Sara’s face, soon followed by silent tears, her pleading gaze driving a spike of dread deep into my chest. I had to stop this.

Desperation got me to my feet, anger drove me forward, and fear for Sara had me throwing myself on Max in a frantic attempt to force him away from her. He grabbed my forearms and used my own momentum to send me hurtling past and sliding across the tile until my back thumped into the wall at the other end of the room.

Slow, taking his time, he pulled one of Sara’s wrists from Tiny’s grip and yanked her arm up, ignoring her struggles as he watched me catch my breath and drag myself back to my feet.

“Are you ready to obey?”

I ignored Max’s question, my own voice warbling with uncertainty. “Sara?”

Her reply was hushed, strained, laced with fury and pain. “Fuck him.”

I didn’t need further invitation. Growling, I pushed off the wall and rushed him again, fingers hooked to claws to tear him off of her.