Лиза Смит - Bloodlust

“Well, well, well. Callie and the man who staked the vampire, then ran for his life. To what do we owe the pleasure?” Jasper leered. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to get a glimpse inside the room.

“Hello, Jasper,” Callie said, brushing past him and motioning for me to follow. In the darkness, I could just make out a sizable cage in the corner. A large, unmoving lump lay inside. “Father needs you in the study. Stefan will take over until the next shift arrives.”

“Meet Jasper in the study?” a loud voice boomed. “But I’m right here.”

I froze. Gallagher.

Callie’s father was perched at a rickety table behind the door, a hand of cards laid out in front of him. In the center of the table, a single candle flickered.

“Oh, Father.” Callie giggled. The sound felt forced, out of place. “I must have been confused. I know you’d wanted to play cards tonight, and I suppose I thought you’d be more comfortable in the study or . . .” she began, her voice wavering. She licked her lips and sat down at the table across from Gallagher.

“You’re kind to think of me, girl,” Gallagher said gruffly.

“Mr. Gallagher,” I said, bowing slightly. “I was told to report for duty, but perhaps I’m mistaken?” The confusion wasn’t hard to feign. Callie had sworn her father would be out of the house.

“Is that right, Jasper?” Gallagher asked.

“Guess it is. He ain’t bad, that one. A little nervous, but when he sticks ’em, he sticks ’em good.”

Gallagher nodded, taking in the information.

“And this is that boy you trust, Miss Callie?” Gallagher asked his daughter.

Callie nodded, her cheeks reddening under her freckles. Then finally, thankfully, Gallagher stood up, his chair scraping against the floor.

“Well, then, I’ll leave you boys to it,” he said, taking his whiskey and following his daughter downstairs.

“So you’re Gallagher’s guy now, ain’t you?” Jasper asked, shoving a vervain-soaked stake in my hands. My skin burned, and pain shot through my arms. I fought the urge to growl and clamped down on my tongue. Tensing, I felt the stake with only two fingers, trying to minimize the contact the poisoned wood had with my body.

“Well, I ain’t going to stick around,” Jasper continued. “The vampire’s hungry tonight. Hope he eats you. And while he does that, I’m going to spend some time with Miss Callie and her daddy. Show ’em you’re not the only man who can be all friendly and genteel-like,” Jasper said. His movements were loose, and I could smell whiskey on his breath.

“Brother?” I whispered.

Damon reared up, fangs bared, causing me to jump back in surprise.

He laughed, a hoarse chuckle, then collapsed against the side of the cage, exhausted from the exertion.

“What, brother? Scared of a vampire?”

I ignored him as I began wresting the door off the structure. Damon watched in curiosity and then slowly crawled over toward me. He was just reaching out when I felt a searing pain radiate from my spine through my entire body.

“Gotcha!” a voice yelled.

My heavy-lidded eyes fought to drift open. I didn’t know how much time had passed. Was it one night? Two? A week? It was dark, wherever I was. I was vaguely conscious, hearing footfalls and yelling, and once a voice that sounded like Callie’s, calling out my name. But one day I woke up without suddenly falling back into unconsciousness. I lifted my arms, realizing I was shackled to the wall. I had vervain burns on my arms and legs. Dried blood crusted my entire body, making it impossible for me to tell where I was wounded. Next to me, Damon was sitting with his knees to his chest. Blood covered his body, and his cheeks were gaunt. Dark shadows rimmed his sunken eyes, but a slow smile was spreading across his face.

“Not so powerful now, are you, brother?”

I struggled to sit up. My bones ached. The attic was soaked in a dim gray light that came from a filthy window. The padding and sniffing of a mouse sounded somewhere far across the room. It stirred a hunger inside me, and I realized that I hadn’t fed since being here. In the corner, two unfamiliar guards were sitting, oblivious to our near-silent conversation.

I shook my head in disgust. How could I have been so stupid? Lexi had been right. Of course she had. Callie had betrayed me. It must have been her plan all along, from the second she’d noticed the ring on my finger that matched Damon’s. I should have realized it the moment I’d seen her father in the room. How had I stepped into such a stupid, obvious trap? I deserved to be chained up like an animal.

“Did you love her?” Damon asked, as if he could read my thoughts.

I stared straight ahead.

“She hasn’t come to visit, in case you were curious,” Damon continued conversationally. “She is pretty, though in my humble opinion, you could do better.”

Anger pushed my fangs into place. “Where are you going with this?” I growled.

Damon gestured to the bars. “Nowhere, apparently. Excellent job on the rescue attempt.”

“At least I tried,” I said, my fury ebbing and resignation flowing in its place.

“Why even bother?” Damon’s eyes flashed. “Have I not made my feelings about you perfectly clear?”

“I . . .” I began, before I realized I had no idea where to even start. How could I tell him that rescuing him wasn’t a choice? That our blood ran in each other’s veins, that we were bound to each other. “It doesn’t matter,” I said.

“No, it doesn’t,” Damon said, adopting a philosophical tone. “After all, we’ll both be dead soon enough. The question is, will you be killed by a crocodile or by a tiger? I heard Gallagher saying crocodiles are the best fight opponents, because they don’t go for the kill. They drag it out.”

Just then the attic door opened with a flourish, and Gallagher strode into the room, his boots echoing on the floor.

“The vampires are awake!” he bellowed.

The two guards hastily jumped to attention, pretending they’d been watching us the whole time. Gallagher strode toward the cage, kneeling at our eye level. His three-piece suit was impeccable, as if he’d made his fortune as a financier rather than by torturing vampires.

“Well, well, well . . . the family resemblance is obvious. I’m embarrassed to not have noticed it sooner.” He reached through the bars and grabbed the front of my shirt, pulling me against the side of the cage. My face clanged against the bars, and I winced as something wooden jutted into my chest.

A stake.

“And you almost got away with acting like a human!” Gallagher threw his head back and laughed, as if it were the most amusing thing in the world.

“You won’t get away with this ,” I hissed, pain ripping through my body as he dug the stake farther into my skin.

“Pay attention, vampire!” Gallagher said, his lips curled back in a snarl. “You know, I think I’m going to bet you’re the one who’ll get killed. Yes, I think that will do very nicely.” He turned toward the two guards. “Hear that? A tip from the boss. Bet on the dark-haired one,” Gallagher said, twisting the stake against my body. “I think his brother has more hatred in his belly.”

I couldn’t see Damon’s face, but I could picture the smirk that no doubt played on his lips.

Gallagher snorted in laughter and threw the vervain-soaked stake to the floor. “Oh, and I don’t want you using the stakes on the vampires for sport anymore,” he said in the direction of the guards. The heavyset one glanced guiltily down at the floor.

“Why not?” the other asked indignantly. “It’s good for ’em. Shows ’em their place.”

“Because we want them in tip-top shape for their fight,” Gallagher said, his voice an exaggerated parody of patience. Then Gallagher smiled at us. “That’s right, boys. You two are going to be fighting, to the death. It’s the perfect solution. I’ll have one dead vampire to sell for parts, a live one for performances, and profit beyond my wildest imagination. You know, it might be sacrilege, but I say, thank God for vampires!”