Page 67 of Our Sins in Blood (Coven of Sin 1)

All because they had touched me.

He hadn’t even met me yet.

It hadn’t been more than a few hours.

And Eros was already carrying out revenge in my name.

“Feef a phucking haf bud!” Allister snarled through his gag, a scream replacing his words as Eros’ boot pressed down harder on his skull.

“Doesn’t matter if she’s a half-blood. She isn’t yours to touch.”

He took a slow drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke onto his victim. “Do you know why they call me Deathwish?”

My stomach roiled with disgust when the sound of cracking bone filled the basement, somehow still audible over Allister’s screams. Thick beads of black blood began to leak from the vampire’s eyes, nostrils, and ears, pooling around his head in an inky puddle.

“Because anyone who fucks with this coven, fucks with me. And the only people who dare fuck with me have a death wish.”

Eros lifted his boot from Allister’s skull and brought it down hard. I had to turn away with a wince, slapping my hand over my mouth to muffle the sound.

The screams ceased and everything fell so still I could hear the sizzle of Eros taking another drag of his cigarette.

With my attention pulled away from the grisly scene, my eyes had adjusted to the dark of the room that had provided me sanctuary.

I had to bite my lip to hold back the gasp rising in my throat.

Eros was tidy. The reason that the rest of his room was relatively normal was that he kept his messes in here.

It wasn’t a closet or an extra storage room that I had stumbled into. I had flung myself right into Deathwish’s torture chamber.

It was damp, with no windows or other means of escape. Chains with huge, sinister hooks dangled from the ceilings, and shackles were bolted to the walls with bloodstains marking the stone beneath, the stains leading to the drain at the center of the floor.

Pushed against the wall was an ebony coffin, the first I’d seen since coming here.

Next to the coffin was a workbench filled with all sorts of tools. These tools were different from the ones in the next room. These were much newer, made of silver and dark wood. By the bottle of alcohol and jar of cotton balls on the bench, they were cleaned meticulously. Over the workbench was a display of even crueler devices. Stakes, knives, hooks, pliers, whips. There was even a gun sitting next to a tray of what I surmised to be silver bullets.

My hand shook as I reached for one of the stakes. I didn’t know what compelled me, but it was in my hand before I realized what I was doing. It was heavy, with a deadly sharp tip and was all silver, with a rounded end that was decorated in dozens of tiny little red jewels—garnets by their dark red tint—and arranged in the letters ‘DW.’

Jesus.

I put the stake back into its mount and examined my fingers. They were completely unmarred. Vincent had been right. Being a half-blood meant I was immune to silver. The box of latex gloves on Eros’ bench confirmed that he was not.

My breathing stilted and my heart lunged to my throat when yet another ominous feature of the room snagged my attention.

It was a fucking furnace installed into the brick.

My skin prickled when my gaze fell to a set of iron rods propped in one of those little brass holders meant to hold implements for sweeping up ash and poking fire logs. I inched forward and picked up one of the rods. My entire body went cold when I examined the end. There was a stamp, made of silver with Deathwish’s initials.

It was a brand.

Holyfuck.

Eros liked to initial everything, including his victims. Another brand had the monogram ‘CCC’ and another that read ‘Traitor to the Crown.’

The basement and its collection of wicked instruments should have horrified me. In a way it did, but what scared me more was the fact that I was more captivated than anything.

There was more to the sadist than Vincent and Corry were letting on. Deathwish was the coven’s protector. Sure, resorting to torturing the coven’s enemies was extreme. But in the world of vampire politics, there probably weren't a lot of other options.

Part of me felt cheated that he had ended Allister’s life so quickly.

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