“Yup. ‘s what ah figured,” Wade said. “Some sorta anti-vampire bullets.”
“We didn’t agree to killin’ him!” Drew shouted, shoving Wade back.
“Ah know,” Wade nodded. He set the gun on the ground and put his hands up. “Ah know we didn’t wanna just kill ‘im. Ah’m not big on that sorta shit mahself, an’ ah never let it happen like that in the Army. But ah ain’t in the Army now, Drew. We ain’t got no back-up, an’ we got no place to put a captured vampire who just said two minutes ago he was gonna kill all of us an’ all our families. You think he didn’t mean that?”
Taylor just stared at the remains. “I feel like I’m supposed to be sick,” she thought aloud.
“You prob’ly would be, if’n y’all were lookin’ at a real dead body. But that ain’t. That’s some monster that should’a been killed a long time ago.”
“In cold blood?” Jason shot back. “While he’s helpless?”
“Ah know,” Wade admitted. “Ah know that. But ah didn’t see no other option. If’n’ y’all never talk to me again, ah’m gonna be sad, but ah un’erstand. But right now we ain’t got no other options. They got our friends an’ they’re gonna come after us unless we do somethin’ about it.”
“Well, what the fuck do you suggest?” Drew snapped. “Our only source of information’s dead now! An’ we don’t even know if what he said is true!”
“We don’t, but we gotta go with it,” Wade shrugged. “Ah got an idea. Need y’all to help, though. Ah’m sorry, Drew. Ah’m sorry for all of this. Ah’m prob’ly gonna be sorry for the rest of mah life, an’ if ah saw another option, ah would’a taken it. But our boy’s in trouble an’ we’re his only shot right now. Alright? Y’all wanna whup mah ass, you’re the guy t’ do it, an’ it ain’t like I don’t have it comin’ for this. But let’s go get our friends first, alright?”
Drew looked at him for a long, hard moment. “You got a plan?”
“Ah got half a plan,” Wade nodded. “Th’ rest we gotta make up as we go. An’ ah gotta say, we’re prob’ly just all gonna get killed.”
“He already took a bullet for me,” Taylor said. “I won’t just let him go.”
Jason shrugged. “I was gonna bomb my mid-terms anyway.”
* * *
He was maddeningly aroused and hated himself for it.
Lorelei shared it all. It was as real to her as if Lydia teased Lorelei directly, but in addition to her own feelings of disgust, she felt it from Alex, too. The blonde succubus manipulated her lover’s body like the expert she was, and they were both still clothed.
It would inevitably be worse in time.
His desire for Rachel had been replaced with the sort of longing that accompanies mourning. The angel surely would have arrived by now if she were able. Lorelei couldn’t be certain, but it seemed likely that Rachel was dead.
It was curious, though, that Stefan edited Rachel out of his recitation of Alex’s memories. Perhaps he didn’t actually know what had happened to her, and he didn’t want to give Alex cause to have hope.
It was dangerous to allow captives to feel hope.
They heard keys at the door. The locks were thrown open. Lydia stopped writhing over Alex in her torturous foreplay to look up over her shoulder. Most of the previous group returned, without Anastacia but with different vampires instead. One was in a pin-striped suit; the other wore a trench coat and a longsword strapped to his back.
“…spent this time in a spirit journey to the outskirts of the lands of the dead,” Warren carried on as the group entered. “The River Lethe must be passed by all souls on their way to the afterlife. The Greeks knew it as a place where memories of life would be shed, so that the soul might continue on to the afterlife unencumbered by sorrow, or vengeance, or loss.”
“I know the mythology,” Blackthorne scowled. “You needn’t be pedantic. The point?”
Warren bowed stiffly. “Symbolism, Lord Blackthorne. As you no doubt know, magic relies heavily on symbolism. Lethe is symbolic of the forgotten memories of the dead. To the living, however, it may often mean quite the opposite. A small dose of this potion will bring great clarity to Carlisle’s memories. It will take a short while for the effects to settle, though, and there are the festivities upstairs to attend. Are you sure you do not want to wait until there is more to hear?”
“We are a patient people,” Blackthorne said. He turned to Stefan. “This issue creates a wrinkle in our hopes for a greater spirit of community, Lord Stefan. We would hate to have it grow into something worse.”
“Our arrangement with Lord Baal has nothing to do with Lady Anastacia’s holdings, nor any of the agreements we have negotiated,” Stefan replied. “I see no justification for interference.”
“Interference? No. Observation, sir,” Blackthorne countered. “This sorcery is to take place in my home, while hosting an event at the Lady’s invitation and under her jurisdiction.”
“Jurisdiction?” Stefan scowled, showing a small degree of open tension for the first time. “Need I remind you, sir, that no agreement has yet been formalized between the Brotherhood and the Lady?”
“Trouble in paradise?” Lydia smiled over her shoulder at Baal.
The demon moved over to Lorelei, who turned away from him in disgust. “Nothing to concern my slaves or I,” he said. Then he smiled at Lorelei. “Yes, slaves. You’ll be mine once again, as soon as Lydia dispatches your little boyfriend here. But I see no reason to rush her.”
“Again, Lord Stefan,” Blackthorne said darkly, “this is still my home. You remain here at the Lady’s invitation. We will allow your work to continue out of deference to Lord Baal and Lydia, but do not presume too much.”
“Gentlemen,” Lord Baal sighed, “this grows tiresome.”
Stefan and Blackthorne stared at one another. Warren and the other vampires stayed silent, but their presence was felt. Stefan quite clearly understood the superior numbers around him. Despite his magic, numbers mattered.
“Warren,” Stefan said finally, “please proceed.”
The robed sorcerer stepped around to the head of the large table. Lydia remained on top of Alex, upright but still straddling him. “If the lady would be so kind?” Warren gestured, offering a hand down from the table.
“I think I like it here,” Lydia protested mischievously. “Is it essential that I move?”
“I can perform my work either way,” said Warren, “but I would hate to disturb you.”
“I’m already disturbed. Please make it worth my while.”
He bowed again. Warren drew from the folds of his robe a funnel and a large flask. “I will need someone to hold his head steady,” he said.
“Mitchell,” Blackthorne beckoned immediately. Without hesitation, the vampire in the black clothes so reminiscent of the Old West strode to the end of the table. He grabbed Alex’s head and held it firm against the tabletop.
“Thank you,” Warren said. “Would someone else be so kind as to open his mouth?”
“Talon,” Blackthorne said. A moment later, Talon appeared at the table opposite from Warren. He grabbed at Alex’s jaw and forced it open after a bit of a struggle.
Lorelei pulled fiercely against her chains. The force of her efforts created a loud racket. Lord Baal looked on with some amusement as she pulled, even to the point of obvious injury to her hands as the cuffs around her wrists refused to give. “Love hurts, doesn’t it, dear Lorelei?” he taunted.
The succubus yanked again on the chains. Neither the links nor the hook in the floor would give, but she kept trying. Finally Blackthorne said, “Spade, Jack, would you be so kind?” The unoccupied vampires pummeled Lorelei to the floor with supernatural strength and a complete lack of mercy.
Warren put the funnel partly into Alex’s mouth and popped the lid on his flask. He poured in a small amount of the liquid, murmuring words in Greek. Alex coughed and sputtered as best he could, but the hands on his head made it impossible to do anything more. Eventually, he swallowed out of panicked reflex.
His body shuddered. Warren pulled his flask back, watching and waiting. The room fell silent as Lorelei’s tormenters let up in their work. Alex let out a stifled whimper of pain.