Page 130 of A Debt of Darkness

“She deserves to die.”

He’s trying to bait me into killing him, and I’m far too experienced to let that happen.

“Rowan’s going to find her and kill her after he’s done whatever the fuck he wants with her.”

He smiles like he’s scored a point and I’m generous enough to allow him this delusion. It’ll make what comes next more painful, more poetic, more exquisite.

“Maybe he’ll let his coven have some fun with her first.”

He’s fucking predictable and it’s boring as hell. Threatening Ivy angers me, but my temper’s known this kind of temptation before and it won’t break easily.

“That won’t work.”

I stalk around his hanging body and run my claws down his back. Deep wounds open as the streaks scream violence and his cries herald the pain ripping through his body.

“I’ve been around longer than most. Long enough to be exceptionally patient. Long enough to take my time and enjoy every fucking second of this.”

The vampire screams and I wait, relishing the sounds of his defeat as they reverberate around the dungeon. The stone walls sing the songs of sorrow and surrender as my soul rejoices at the not-so-subtle suffering.

“Rowan will come.”

I laugh so low it’s menacing and even the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “You were a fucking fool for attacking my mate, but it’s impossible to underestimate you.”

The asshole laughs.

He tips his head back as he dangles in my chains and fucking laughs.

“I’ll never surrender, Henry. Never give you the peace of mind your soul’s pleading for mine to grant. You’re as pathetic as your fucking feeble whore of a mate and the gods will drag you down to hell like the abomination that you are.”

Interesting.

His blood didn’t taste of zealotry.

There wasn’t even a trace of it in the metal tang and bitterness of centuries lived in Rowan’s shadow.

“The gods have always favored me,” I say, letting a false hint of doubt creep into my tone. “I have served them well and they have rewarded me in kind. I don’t doubt their loyalty.”

“They doubt yours,” he screams as my claws dig into his muscles and slowly shred them, ripping their fibers as I inadvertently strip some from the bone.

I’m losing control and I pause, regaining the composure that almost cost me my reward. The vampire whose name I don’t remember because it makes no fucking difference almost got the better of me and I can’t afford to let it happen. Not when it appears there’s more to learn than his blood revealed.

There’s something hidden in his soul, contained within the depths of his memories. I know it, in the way a predator knows which way its prey’s going to move. It’s in the tensing of his muscles, the slight uptick of his jaw. The subtle change in smell and the seismic shift in his voice.

He’s cocky. He’s sure. He’s fucking with me and I’m going to make damn sure I win this round. And all the fucking rounds that follow until I’ve had my fill and extracted every ounce of pain and suffering and humiliation.

I snarl and the door creaks, stopping me from flaying more skin from the cunt’s mangled, wretched body.

“I thought you might need supplies,” Ryan says, stepping into the torchlight with an expression that betrays not onefucking sign of weakness or dissent.

He flashes the packs of blood in his hand and the vampire groans, aware we’re going to feed him and heal some of his wounds. It’s not kindness and using his immortality to hurt him more should weaken his resolve unless he’s so lost in his ideology he’s abandoned all reason.

“For you, or that fucker?”

I love Ryan.

Truly.

He’s more than a brother and he’s kept alive in more ways than one. It’s hard to describe the friendship we share and the trauma of our transformation was only the beginning of our bond. We were briefly enemies when I served Marcus Aurelius and he led the Gauls, almost killing each other in battle before our deaths were taken from us, and now we’re a part of each other’s existence neither of us could live without.

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