He said they’ve been here almost a year, so check real estate sales or rentals. If there’s nothing under Darrow’s name, check under Owen Matthews or any name he might use for his holdings.
There was a pause. You don’t mean Secretary of State Matthews, do you?
Unfortunately, yes. He’s the head of the snake, always was. When he goes down, all of this stops.
Okay. You hang on! We’ll find this building and we’ll be there soon!
I will. I love y—
A scream shattered his thoughts, and quickly he shut down the connection. There was no way he could subject his mate to what was happening to her father.
He didn’t want to watch, but he couldn’t look away. Nick’s back was bowed, muscles bunched as he gripped the silver chains that had to be burning his palms. His head was turned to the side, dark hair falling over his eyes, and his teeth were gritted against the pain.
Darrow raised his arm, brought down the whip again. The rawhide struck Nick’s back with a horrible slap, wrapping around his upper shoulder, crossing down his back diagonally to his hip. A line was scored into his flesh, a deep furrow that immediately began streaming with blood. Crimson streaked down his flesh, into the waistband of his jeans.
Over and over again, the blows rained down. Zan held on to the contents of his stomach, though just barely. That is, until Darrow’s devious mind revealed Nick’s ultimate torture.
“Smell that?” He inhaled, then shivered with pleasure as he stepped forward. Trailed a finger through the red liquid and brought it to his lips. Tasted. “Delicious blood. Born shifters taste so exquisite, not even the finest red wine can compare to the full-bodied richness.”
“Get off me, you freak,” Nick hissed, yanking against his bonds.
“Don’t be so dramatic. After all, you’re going to love the next part.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Remember what I said before? Your mate loved what I did to her. . . .” Darrow moved close, into his captive’s back. Ran a palm down his shoulder and side, rested his chin at the crook of his prey’s neck as a lover might do.
Horror filled Zan to the core, and he fought in earnest not be sick.
“No,” Nick whispered. “Don’t.”
“Oh, yes. I’m going to feed from you, wolf. And you’re going to love every moment of it . . . right until you breathe your last.”
“You twisted motherfucker—”
Nick’s words were cut off as Darrow struck, sliding his fangs into the curve of his captive’s neck. Nick cried out, his body tense . . . and then he relaxed, letting out a hoarse moan. It was a sound of defeat. Broken.
With a dark laugh, Darrow pulled their bodies together tightly, Nick’s back to his front, and began to feed slowly. With long pulls and the occasional lick, nuzzling his prey’s neck, then repeating. His captive sank further under the wicked spell, unable to stop what was happening. Past caring.
Seduced.
“You’re mine now,” Darrow murmured against his skin. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“What do you want, wolf?”
“Drink from me. Take it all.”
“Patience. I’ll do as you wish. After we’ve enjoyed this fully.”
They moved together, vampire and prey, in a dark, ancient ritual that went back in history to the gods themselves. Zan knew, should help come in time to save their lives, even a man as mentally strong as Nick would find it nearly impossible to get past this.
The commander would rather die than be seduced into finding pleasure at the hands of his worst enemy. His murderer.
And with that thought, Zan finally lost the battle and became violently ill.
Thirteen
Selene paced, almost coming out of her skin.
Tarron and Jax were each on their cell phone, calling everywhere they could think of to find out who had leased or purchased buildings in the area in the past year. They were searching for an office structure large enough to hold a coven of rogues, in an area where they’d blend in with normal traffic. How hard could that be?
“All right,” the prince said, ending a call. Movement in the conference room halted and everyone gave him their attention. “One of my men has found a paper trail on a building in Grove Park, a midsized city less than a half hour from here. It fits all the criteria, except in the owner’s name.”
“Let me guess,” Aric said. “It’s a dummy corporation?”
Tarron nodded. “A fake telecom business. But at the end of the paper trail, the owner is our illustrious secretary of state.”
“So, when do we leave?” Selene demanded impatiently. “Time is wasting. And don’t even think I’m staying here, because I’m not.”
“Selene, Zan would kill me if anything happened to you,” Jax said with a frown.
“No, he wouldn’t, because he knows by now how stubborn I am. Besides, you guys forget I’m a born wolf. I have teeth and claws just like you, and I fight dirty.”
The men looked at each other, no doubt trying to figure a way to make her stay. In the end, however, they understood she would follow them if necessary. They knew she had to get to her mate.
Jax sighed. “All right. But if he takes a chunk out of my ass, I’m blaming you.”
“Fair enough.”
In less than fifteen minutes, several SUVs full of vampires and shifters were ready to roll. Selene rode with Jax, sitting in the middle with him while Ryon drove, as usual. Aric was up front beside him. The mood was tense, the team ready for a fight.
There was little conversation on the way, their minds too occupied with the takedown. With finding Zan and her father alive. That last was far from a sure thing. It terrified her the way her mate had cut off their contact so abruptly. He was either hurt or protecting her from something. Or both. None of those was very comforting.
Arriving a couple of blocks from their destination, they parked on a side street out of view of the building. Then they climbed out and began making their way to the address they sought, surrounding the premises. Flanked by Zander’s friends, his brothers, she prepared to rescue the man she loved.
Carter Darrow had fucked with the wrong people.
It would be his very last mistake.
Nick regained consciousness slowly. Wished he hadn’t.
He was still hanging in the silver chains that had burned his skin almost to the bone. His body was limp, heavy, his strength almost gone.
Along with his will to live.
Closing his eyes, he struggled not to remember how he’d begged that murderous vampire to drink from him. How good the pull had felt, how his cock had hardened in his jeans . . . and how he’d come in pulsing waves, unable to help himself.
His physical reaction had nothing to do with Darrow. He knew that. He wasn’t even sexually attracted to males. Vampires were masters of compulsion, and even the vilest of their bunch could hold the strongest will in thrall.
But he hated himself all the same.
Darrow had murdered his mate. Had seduced her in the same fashion and had wanted to do the same to his beautiful daughter. Nick knew he’d never be able to erase this day from his mind, even if he should survive another two hundred years.
The heavy door opened, and footsteps shuffled in. Please, let this end. Let them save Zander, but please, let me go.
Just then, the familiar buzz began in his head, and a picture began to form. He saw this very chamber, bathed in blood. So much of it, coating every surface. Bodies were strewn about. His mind’s eye took in the scene—and then stopped on one prone figure.