Page 9 of Map of Pain
Chapter four
There he is...
Luka
The transformation happened in a heartbeat, rippling through Nick like a stone through still water. One moment he’d been coiled for attack—all deadly precision and Society training—the next, something fundamental shifted beneath his skin. Not surrender.
Something else entirely.
Nick’s muscles released all at once, tension bleeding away with practiced ease. His posture melted from predator into something Luka couldn’t name, too controlled for defeat, too deliberate for collapse. The change felt manufactured, like watching a switch flip inside someone’s chest.
Luka’s beast stirred, curious and hungry.Prey submits,it purred, satisfaction rippling through him as Nick stopped fighting.
Pretty hunter.Take.
But beneath that instinctive response, wrongness clawed at Luka’s chest. Fear scent spiked through the air—acrid-sweet likehand sanitizer, climbing higher instead of plateauing. Nick’s heart raced while his exterior grew unnaturally calm.
Nick’s knees bent with impossible grace, lowering his body toward cold tile. His remaining hand positioned beneath one knee, his palm flat against the linoleum. The movement was fluid, practiced—muscle memory executing what must have taken years to perfect.
Luka heard the audible pops as Nick’s knuckles compressed under his own weight.Self-punishment.The hunter was deliberately making the position painful, creating unnecessary pressure points. Incorporating suffering into submission.
Conditioned.
Nick’s chin dropped to his chest and his breathing changed. Shallow, controlled, barely audible. Each exhale measured and regulated.
A physical ache burned in Luka as he watched the hunter retreat into himself. His beast paced restlessly, matching Luka’s fierce desire to reverse whatever had caused this. He wanted to hunt down whoever programmed this response into Nick Walsh, and tear them apart. The intensity of his protective impulse was as immediate as it was utterly useless in the current moment.
Fix hunter?His beast probed curiously.
He had no idea what to do.
Luka waved his hands desperately in Nick’s peripheral vision, trying to break through the trance-like state. No response. Nick’s gaze remained fixed downward, unmoving, unseeing. Luka moved closer, gestures becoming urgent, trying to penetrate whatever mental fortress Nick had retreated behind.
Silent tears leaked from beneath Nick’s lashes, hitting tile with tiny splashes. His whole body trembled with suppressed emotion while maintaining perfect positioning. Rigid control over the exterior while something inside seemed to shatter.
Luka had dealt with The Daylight Society more than once when he lived in Chicago. This wasn’t how their operatives responded to capture. The zealous hunters were trained to fight to the death, take their own lives rather than be taken.
How long had this taken to create? Who had done this?
The questions circled as he remembered similar broken people from his past—humans kept by the oldest vampires, conditioned over years into perfect servants. But Nick was a Society hunter. When had he been in vampire captivity long enough for this level of conditioning?
Luka knelt slowly, bringing himself to Nick’s level. He telegraphed each movement deliberately, avoiding anything that might read as threatening. He reached out and placed two fingers beneath Nick’s chin, lifting his face.
The eyes that met his were hollow, terrified pools—present but unreachable. He’d seen that exact expression before, on a young man in Chicago in 1987. An old one’s“pet”who’d been conditioned so long he’d forgotten his own name.
Luka mouthed words silently, not wanting to strain his damaged throat unless necessary.“It’s okay.”His lips shaped carefully.“I’m not going to hurt you.”He mouthed the phrases like a mantra, adding open-handed gestures that conveyed safety.
No response
After several failed attempts, Luka made a decision. He placed his hands carefully on Nick’s shoulders, concentrating on activating his ability. Energy transferred from him into Nick’s system, targeting pain receptors throughout the human’s body. Fever, infection, joint strain, countless smaller hurts—all muted for the next twelve hours.
Nick’s eyes widened at the sudden absence of constant pain. Confusion flickered across his features as his body registered relief his mind couldn’t understand. The disorientation createdthe first crack in his conditioning—a moment of genuine reaction rather than programmed response.
Luka seized the opportunity, pointing to Nick’s hand trapped beneath his knee. He mimed a lifting motion, encouraging Nick to free himself from the painful position.
Nick remained motionless, maintaining eye contact but not moving. Fear seemed to paralyze him, that acrid scent pouring off him in a steady stream that choked the air around them.
Hold him?His beast offered from a calm place.
