Page 77 of Surface Scratch
“I’m not going to help you,” Caleb told him.
Henderson smirked. “You sure?” He took another long drag off of his cigarette before he jabbed Caleb in the inner thigh, pressing the red-hot ember directly to the bite mark.
He couldn’t hold in his scream as the pain flashed through his leg, his toes curling against the cold concrete and his shoulders feeling like they were going to fall off his body as he thrashed. He struggled to catch his breath as Henderson took a step back.
“Last chance, kid. We can make you talk if we want. You do still owe me more teeth.”
Caleb glared at Henderson, his anger and pain and fear settling into a strangely peaceful indifference as the man continued to threaten him. He knew he should be scared. These were the same people that had burned a child to death in front of his father. Who actively sought out to destroy vampires just because of who they were, regardless of whether they posed a current threat or not. He should have given every name he knew, their ages, general descriptions, and even anyone he suspected may be a vampire after Henderson ripped out his molar.
But he hadn’t. He wouldn’t. He was too tired. Too disappointed. Too fed up with all of it. He just wanted to go back to Marcus’s apartment, curl up with him on the couch, and watch another lame superhero movie that Marcus would end up talking his ear off about for at least an hour.Afterthey watched all the extras.
The thought of that put a smile on his face. At least if he died, it would be with a good memory.
“I’m not going to tell you shit, so do what you have to do,” he said, the smile still stuck on his face. He opened his mouth as wide as he could against his smile, showing that he would let Henderson plunder every last one of his teeth.
Henderson frowned and then sighed. “I’m afraid this one is too far gone,” he said to Nick, who had stopped vomiting and stood by the door instead. “You know what the rules say.”
Nick nodded, his eyes on the ground as he pulled a gun from his waistband. His forehead creased as he raised his arm. His hand was shaking the entire weapon. He used his two remaining fingers on the other hand to steady his aim, breathing so loud Caleb could hear him.
“I love you,” Nick choked out.
Caleb squeezed his eyes shut. So this was going to be it. Of all the ways he had imagined his own death, shot in the head by his own brother had not been on the bingo card. He clenched his fists behind his back—at least he thought he did, he had long ago lost feeling in them. Would it hurt?
A loud boom echoed through the building, somewhere far off from the room they were in, and Caleb opened his eyes. He knew that sound. He couldn’t forget it even if he wanted to. Nick lowered the gun and looked at Henderson.
“It’s here,” Henderson said, his smirk growing into a toothless grin.
There was the sound of footsteps approaching fast. Running. The door burst open and Andrew rushed inside, his eyes wide, panic painted across his face along with a splatter of blood. “We need to go,” he shouted, slamming himself back against the door to hold it closed. He gripped a machete with both hands, his fingers nearly white.
An inhuman scream echoed down the hall, making all three members of the Society jump. Caleb’s chest tightened.
Marcus was here.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Caleb gritted his teeth, forcing himself to ignore the pain in his jaw as he pulled at the zip ties that held his arms in the stress position. He needed to get free. It felt like his bones were being pulled apart.
The door exploded inward, completely falling away from its hinges and taking Andrew to the ground with it. The shape silhouetted in the doorway didn’t make sense to Caleb’s eyes at first. Too wide. Too large.
The sound raised the hairs on his arms. Growling. Crunching. Gurgling.
The shape stepped into the light. Marcus stood there, his face twisted in a way that was barely recognizable, as though his skin had rearranged itself to only display his rage. His eyes were engulfed in blackness, his fangs longer, and he wasn’t just covered in blood. He was drenched in it, his winter coat and flannel pajama pants solid red. He held a man in the air with one hand around the back of his neck, his fingers having disappeared beneath the skin and muscle of the man’s throat.
The man was short and squat, and looking at his eyes, Caleb realized he was the one from the alley that he had kicked between the legs. He’d felt bad when he did that, but now, watching the squat man weakly pull at Marcus’s fingers, his short legs kicking futilely in the air, his jaw slack and sliding unnaturally to one side, Caleb felt nothing. He only gave him a passing glance before his eyes focused back on Marcus.
Thiswas the beast. Fully released. A manic grin formed across his blood-soaked face as his arm jerked. A loud crunch echoed in the empty room and the squat man’s body went still. Marcus threw the body to the ground. The sound of more bones cracking broke through Caleb’s daze.
“Marcus!” he cried. The cold steel of a knife pressed against his throat and he froze.
“Take one step closer and you get to watch him bleed out,” Henderson said from behind him.
Marcus didn’t say anything. He just snarled at Henderson, his fingers clawed at his sides, twitching like they needed to find more soft flesh to sink into. He stomped his foot on the fallen door, eliciting a groan from Andrew, still trapped beneath it and trying to get out.
“You see that? That’s what he is,” Henderson whispered. “A bloodthirsty beast. He’s lost control. They all do. He’ll kill everyone in this room, you and your brother included. He needs to be put down.”
Fiery rage licked up Caleb spine again, and he flattened himself against the back of the chair, tucking his chin lower against the knife to give himself even a millimeter of space.This is going to hurt. He flung his head back as hard as he could, his vision blurring as the back of his skull made contact with Henderson’s face. The ringing started immediately as he felt himself falling backward.
Pain exploded from his left shoulder as he hit the ground at an angle, the back of the chair breaking apart. There was another loud bang, a gunshot, closer to the room this time, and an unhinged laugh that followed it. It was too high-pitched to be anyone other than Ophelia. Caleb screamed as tried to sit up, his hands still pinned behind his back and the pain in his shoulder making him feel like he was going to vomit.
