Page 65 of The Baritone's Rival

“You trapped me in a house of torture,” Oscar grunted. “You used me and you drank from me. I owe you nothing.”

Elliott clawed at Oscar’s face. Oscar ducked, spinning to the side, and lunging once more with his knife. The long metal weapon bit into the muscular flesh. Elliott screamed, moving backward, deeper into the dark of the underground chamber.

“You are my mate!” Elliott growled, fleeing faster now. Oscar kept on him. Elliott might have brute strength, but Oscar had speed, and he wasn’t going to let Elliott get away. Eventually Lillian and Freddie would knock down the door, and he’d have his ex tied up with a neat little bow to deliver to them. This monster wouldn’t evade the justice he so richly deserved.

“If I was your mate, why did you never allow me to drink from you and complete the bond?”

Elliott was running now, no longer even keeping up the pretense of fighting back. There was another hole in the wall atthe rear of the chamber. By the looks of it, it was another newly constructed tunnel. Elliott dove for it, and Oscar followed just behind.

“If I say you’re my mate, then you’re my mate!” Elliott growled. He was cruising around the twists and turns as the tunnel changed direction, but Oscar stayed on his tail. The walls of the passageway whipped by, but Oscar didn’t have a moment to take in where they were going. He had to stop Elliott. Eventually, they’d have to run into a wall, and Elliot would be done.

“How did you even become coven master?” Oscar called out to the fleeing vamp in front of him. “You don’t have much in the way of personality.”

“Fuck you!” The turns in the tunnel were coming fast now, enabling Elliott to escape his sight for a split second at a time. No matter. Oscar could keep track of him from his petulant yelling.

“Won’t be doing that ever again, lover,” Oscar taunted.

“I killed anyone who got in my way. That’s how.”

They cruised around a bend to a long stretch with a thick metal door at the end. It was open, but Oscar refused to let it close and separate them. He fished out a throwing knife from his left boot and tossed it hard at Elliott.

Elliott grunted as the weapon hit the small of his back. He slowed but did not stop. Oscar caught up with him, reaching out with his clawed hand, hoping to snatch his shirt and pull Elliott toward himself, but Elliott dove for the doorway.

Oscar dove right after him.

Oscar hit the ground to find it wasn’t ground any longer, but hard wood. He felt it bend and stretch under the impact. He jumped to his feet to face Elliott, but instead was faced with a wholly new environment.

This wasn’t another dirty underground tunnel. It was a room of some kind, spare and utilitarian. The walls were painted abright white, with a small circular window off to one side. On the other, there were a couple of short wooden benches. Sitting on one was a woman in her sixties wearing a smart pastel skirt suit. She didnotlook happy.

Elliott loomed on the other side of the room, a smirk on his face. Oscar stumbled. The ground was shifting underneath him. What was happening?

“Close it,” Elliott ordered. The large metal clank of the heavy door closing echoed throughout the tiny area.

Before Oscar could turn to see who Elliott was speaking to, he was hit with a sharp pain in the back of his head, and it all went black.

“Are you my rescue party?”A sarcastic voice cut through the groggy haze as Oscar fought his way to consciousness. “I was expecting someone more competent.”

Oscar rubbed his eyes, encouraging his vision to come into focus. Regardless, he thought he knew who he was speaking to.

“Lavinia?”

“You know me?”

Oscar could see her more clearly now. She’d obviously been in her rumpled outfit for days, but other than that, she looked intact. She had a broad face that in other circumstances would have been kind and welcoming, and long silver hair.

“I know your nephew, Justin.” Oscar’s eyes focused on the round window. He could see more beyond it now. City lights twinkled across the surface of surrounding water…what the hell?

“We’re on a boat,” Lavinia said.

Of course. The small round window was a porthole. And that explained his unsteady footing.

Elliott had clearly been planning this for a while. An underground tunnel leading to a boat prison? That was not something you decided on a lark.

“Lovely. Where the hell are we going?” Oscar stretched out his arms above his head. He hadn’t been shackled or anything. They must have confidence in the locks on the doors.

“Nowhere yet.” Lavinia smiled, but there was no joy in it. “We’ve been out circling the Statue of Liberty for hours. I’ve been watching out the porthole.”

“Fucking Elliott,” Oscar muttered under his breath. He breathed in, and his vampire senses were assaulted with a strong, musky, animal smell. What the hell was that? He glanced around, but the room was plain and nearly empty. The only place the odor could be coming from was?—

---