Page 78 of Map of Pain
Nick’s eyes remained fixed on the floor, completely vacant but somehow seeing something—someone—thatwasn’tthere. His breathingwascontrolled, measured, like hewaswaiting for orders that would never come from anyone in this room.
Luka’s chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing his ribcage. He’d seen Nick break down before, had held him through flashbacks and dissociation, but this was different. This was formal. Practiced. This was Nick’s body remembering how to be a good prisoner.
The silence stretched on, terrible and complete. Luka could smell the way everyone’s scentshiftedto confusion and growing alarm. Caleb’s mouthwashanging open, his face gone pale with shock. Adam was white as paper, his hands starting toshake again. Even Ophelia looked unsettled, her usual boredom replaced by fascination and revulsion.
How many times did they make him do this? How many times did he have to kneel like this, bleeding and waiting?
His beastwasclawing at the inside of his chest, desperate to do violence to whoevertaughtNick this position andhurthim so thoroughly that his body could snap into it without conscious thought. But the people responsibleweren’there. Therewasno one to tear apart, no threat to eliminate. Just Nick, lost somewhere in his own mind, bleeding onto the floor.
“Nick?”Caleb whispered, the word barely audible.
No response. Nick might as well have been carved from stone, if stone could bleed and radiate the kind of terror that made the air itself feel heavy. Luka wanted to reach for him, wanted to touch his shoulder or his face, to anchor him back to the present. But something about Nick’s stillness warned him off. Thiswasn’tthe kind of episode where comfort helped.
“What the fuck is he doing?”Vincent asked, leaning forward with predatory interest that made Luka’s hands clench into fists.
«He’s kneeling like he’s reporting to someone,»Matteo said.
Reporting.The word made Luka’s stomach turn. Yes, that’s exactly what this looked like. Nick kneeling in perfect position, waiting to give a briefing to his superior officers. Waiting to be questioned. Waiting to be hurt.
Luka tried to swallow past the sick feeling rising in his throat.
Another minute passed. Two. Nick remained still, blood continuing to seep from his mouth and chin, eyes locked on the floor. Waiting for orders that would never come. Or maybe orders hewashearing from people whoweren’tthere anymore.
Luka’s beastwashowling, a constant stream of rage that he could barely contain or decipher.Ours. Hurt. Find who did this. Tear them apart. Make them pay.But the rational part of his mind knew therewasno one to fight. The damagewasalreadydone, carved so deep into Nick’s psyche that his body remembered how to surrender to two different masters without missing a beat.
“Jesus Christ,”Caleb breathed, finally moving to push the table away from Nick.“We need to get the table away from him before—”
That’s when Nick started to speak.
“Please don’t make me say it again,”Nick whispered, his voice carrying a tremor that made every vampire in the room flinch.
This wasn’t just a random flashback, it was an interrogation. And from the sound of his voice, from the desperate way he spoke to people whoweren’tthere, ithappenedmore than once.
“We need to get him out of this,”Marcus said, his voice carefully controlled, but his hands remained clenched at his sides.
“No,”Vincent said sharply, his blue eyes intent on Nick’s trembling form.“We need to listen. He might give us intelligence about—”
The suggestion that they should use Nick’s trauma, that they should sit here and catalog his pain for strategic advantage, hit Luka like a red-hot wire. His control, already strained to the breaking point, snapped.
Luka’s fist connected with Vincent’s jaw before the vampire could finish the sentence. The impact knocked Vincent back, blood dripping from his split lip. The violence felt good, felt right, felt like the only appropriate response to someone suggesting they should harvest intelligence from Nick’s state.
Luka’s hands moved in sharp, furious signs, his whole body radiating lethal intent.«He’s not intelligence. He’s a person in pain.»
Ophelia translated for Caleb, her voice carrying Luka’s rage.“He says Nick’s not intelligence, he’s a person in pain.”
Vincent touched his bleeding mouth, looking stunned.Good. Maybe next timehe’llthink before suggesting they exploit Nick.
“Luka’s right,”Adam whispered.“This isn’t... we can’t just listen to this.”
But Nickwasstill speaking, his voice taking on different tones, different inflections, as if hewerecycling through multiple conversations.
“It hurts,”Nick said, tears streaming down his face to mix with the blood on his chin. The words came out fractured, and Lukahadto resist the urge to cover his ears.“Shaw, it hurts, please—”
Shaw.The name hit Luka like a knife between the ribs. Nickwasreliving being hurt by Shaw, the man who commanded the Society, the man whoturnedNick into a weapon.
“Whowasthat?”The same voice, but stronger now, more confident. Like hewasasking a different question to a different interrogator.
Luka dropped to his knees beside Nick, close enough to feel the wrongness radiating from him, but not quite touching. He could smell the terror pouring off him, the way his scent was completely alien, turned into something that spoke of violation and devastation and things that should never happen to anyone.
