A small vestibule led into a large, cathedral-like room made entirely of smooth, grayish limestone. Large silk scarves in various shades of blacks, purples and greens draped the walls. A shiver of terror tingled up Sydney’s neck as Asgear dragged her across the chilled, stone floor. Sydney spied a long, planked table with ropes attached to its legs and an enormous white chalk pentagram drawn underneath it. Hemp and human hair rope? At the front of the room stood an altar of some sort. Black and green candles burned brightly illuminating a modest, wooden box covered in black cloth, a golden chalice, and a long, silver sword.
Asgear grinned widely, as if he was high as a kite. With grandeur, he started speaking into the open space. “Oh great Mistress! Our offering has arrived. She will serve us nicely so that the spirits of the dead will grant us their powers.”
Sydney rolled her eyes. “Delusional much? Asgear, even if you do manage to conjure up some evil spirit, do you really think that bitch mistress of yours plans to share the power with you?...little mage that you are! Get real! So not happening,” she sneered, hoping he would fluster and make a stupid mistake. Sydney yanked herself away, unsuccessfully trying to free herself from Asgear’s firm grip on her upper arm. Where was Kade?
Asgear spun Sydney around by her shoulders and backhanded her across her face. She fell to the floor as blood sprayed out of her mouth onto the planked table. “Now look what you made me do, little whore!” He screamed violently. Asgear was enraged. Sydney spat blood at him as he reeled her up and thrust her onto her back upon the splintered wood table. Immediately, he uncuffed her wrists one at a time and bound her hands to the legs of the table.
Sydney saw stars as the blinding force of his hand smacked her cheek. Holy hell that hurt. Blood spewed from her mouth as she fought him. He secured her hands within seconds. Flinging her legs forward, she landed a kick to his nose. Hearing his bones crunch, she pulled hard at her bindings and tried to free her hands. But Asgear rapidly recovered, slapping her face once again attempting to stun her into defeat. “Be still!” he yelled.
Sydney refused to give up as she wildly calcitrated her legs hoping to make contact again, but her eye began to swell, blurring her vision. Within seconds, he wound the rope around her ankles fully securing her to the table until she was laid out spread eagle.
He glared at her in disgust. “Wait until my Mistress sees what you made me do! Your skin is marred. She won’t be pleased at all,” he huffed.
Sydney continued to writhe on the table, struggling to liberate her hands from the cutting rope. Twisting to the side, her adrenaline spiked as she spied several of Simone’s vampires entering and assembling in a circle on the perimeter of the room. Shit, shit, shit. Freaking bloodsuckers.
Asgear knelt in front of the altar and started rhythmically chanting. Swinging her head to the antechamber, Sydney gaped as the vampires parted to make room for a pale, thin, tall woman who entered and approached the altar, Simone. Her flowing, alabaster, silk skirt grazed the floor as a train of fabric streamed three feet behind her. A matching silk bustier bolstered her small, ashen breasts. Simone’s long, raven tresses were pulled and parted down the middle flat on her head with a full, massive ponytail of tight ringlet curls, a late eighteenth century hairstyle. Sydney cringed at the overwhelming scent of gardenia perfume as Simone floated past her.
Unable to keep silent any longer, Sydney screamed toward her, “Hey you! That’s right, I’m talking to you...you lily white, vampire bitch.” Blood trickled from Sydney’s eye and mouth. She may be tied up, bruised and battered, but damn, she was not going to go down without a fight.
Simone glided over to the altar, scanning her worthy sacrifice. “Silence human! So, it is you who attempted to steal my husband. You are nothing more than a mere dollymop...a whore for his liking. You are nothing. I shall take my vengeance tonight and the torture will be sweet. The spirits will infuse me with gifts, supremacy. This city will return to its greatness under my rule.”
“Fuck you! Wake the hell up, Simone! This isn’t the eighteenth century, and Kade is not your husband. He doesn’t love you. You are an evil, sick bitch who will regret the day you ever met me.”
“I said SILENCE! It is time for the offering. I sentence this human to death in the name of Satan and all the spirits who wish to grant me their gifts. She is guilty of crimes against me, the high priestess vampire.” Waving her hand, the candlelight flickered as a cold breeze blew throughout the room. The circling vampires hissed at Sydney, their fangs dripping in saliva.
Sydney wanted to tell Simone to go fuck herself. She tried to speak, tried to move, but she was completely paralyzed except for her breathing. Her eyes peered wide open, feeling the chill across her flesh. This is not good. Through her peripheral vision, she could see Simone preparing some kind of concoction at the altar. Asgear spread oil on Sydney’s forehead, chest, and abdomen while he continued his chanting.
He pivoted, cupping the golden chalice with both hands and hovered it above Sydney’s head. Panic began to set in as Simone laid the cold, flat surface of a silver sword against Sydney’s belly. Dragging the sword crosswise, blood pooled on Sydney's skin as Simone drew an X on the soft flesh.
“Your blood is my blood. Your life force is my life force. You give it to me freely as a punishment for your crimes. We shall drink your essence in preparation for the sacrifice,” Simone spoke in a monotone voice, as the room fell into total silence. “Now, whore. I want to hear you scream!” She sliced deeply into the underside of Sydney’s forearm cutting so far through the tendons that the blood flowed freely. Crimson liquid rapidly filled the chalice to the brim. Asgear watched in exhilaration as Simone licked Sydney’s arm sealing the wound.
Released momentarily from paralysis, Sydney cried out in pain, yet refused to give into tears as her arm was slit open. She almost vomited watching Simone’s acid tongue lick over her bloodied skin. Asgear began offering the chalice to the vampires to drink as some kind of a preparatory, bloody communion. One by one, they drank of her blood, passing the chalice to the next vampire until Asgear held it again.
Fear rushed over Sydney as she saw the tool that must have been used on the second murder victim. The gleaming twelve-inch-long needle, which was as thick as a pencil eraser, glinted off the candlelight as Simone inspected it. Raising one needle up in the air, both Simone and Asgear began to chant in tongues. Vampires began to sway in a trance to the nonsensical vocalizations. A strong hum started to vibrate the room and the wooden table shook. In the middle of the chaos, Sydney felt him. Kade. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did. He was here for her. I love him. It was her last coherent thought before Simone shrieked and slammed the full hilt of the needle down into Sydney’s torso, penetrating her belly clear down into the table.
Chapter Eighteen
“What in the hell just happened?” Tristan questioned his friends accusingly. “Goddammit! You were supposed to keep her safe! I should have gone with you instead of guarding the perimeter!” Tristan felt guilty knowing he too had planned this failed operation with Kade and Luca. She was part of his pack. They all knew she wasn’t wolf, but she’d been under his protection since the day he met her. Former lover, good friend, Sydney was his one link to the human world that he trusted with his life. Now, because of their miscalculations, she might be dead. Tristan howled loudly, frustrated with their defeat and potential loss of his friend.