Page 111 of The Firebrand
The vampire guides advanced on Rein, who tried to create a weapon to use against them. No success. He tried to negate their powers. No success. He tried a teleportation spell. No success.
Rein spread his legs apart. With his right hand, he beckoned to them. “Come on then, motherfuckers. Take me, but it won’t be easy.”
Indigo sipped her whiskey, uncurling her leg. “Do you have any chips? I feel like something salty.”
Braelyn hurried to the kitchen, grabbed a bag of Lays, and handed it off to Indigo. Returning to her spot on the couch, she leaned close, not wanting to miss any of the story.
Indigo crunched on the chips for a few minutes, took another sip from her glass, and brushed her hands together to wipe away crumbs. “Now, where were we? Yes. Rein was about to get his ass kicked.”
Castia shadowflashed from the cave while Balto circled behind the pre-Awakened vampire. Warrick attacked from the front. Rein’s fist smashed into the taller male’s jaw, sending him spiraling backward. Balto grabbed the mixling’s neck in the crook of his arm, but Rein tossed him overhead onto the ground. Warrick’s fists flew into Rein’s face as Balto once again seized his arms, holding them at his sides. The victim slipped from Balto’s grip to pound on Warrick’s kidneys.
Much later, when the two subdued Rein, he awoke in a cage, beaten, bloody, chained to the wall.
The lessons had begun.
Night turned to day. Images flew past Braelyn like fast-forward streaming. Then someone hit the pause button.
The shorter guide escorted a female demon into Rein’s cell. Balto sank his fangs into the side of her neck, relishing his feast. Done, he released her. She staggered against the wall, slumping to the ground.
The vampire dragged a finger across the blood dripping from his lips, sucking it into his mouth. He licked each digit. “That is how we feed. If the throat is not to your liking, choose inside the elbow or thigh. The wrist. You can even feed from a breast. Playful rather than filling. Listen for the thrum beneath the skin. You’ll know where to strike. You will learn when to stop, if that is a concern. Some like the thrill of killing. To each his own. When you are learning, you may kill unintentionally. Other desires follow the blood thirst, pleasurable ones.”
When Balto was long out of sight, Rein dragged himself to a corner and threw up.
Days cycled into nights while Braelyn watched the overhead stream of light disappear and reappear.
Balto delivered a succubus to Rein’s cell. Enraged, he struggled against his chains but made no move for the female. Her eyes wide in fear, she approached cautiously, drew her hair aside to offer her neck.
Rein two-fisted a chain, pulling until his arm muscles rebelled, quivering, flinching. He ran the length of his bounds, only to jerk back at the end of his tether, his wrists and ankles raw, bloodied. “Get the fuck out of here,” he roared at her.
A sneering Warrick entered the cage, pinned the succubus to the wall, and ripped open the neck of her dress. His rough hands squeezed her breasts until she cried. When he dropped his pants to his knees, he fisted his engorged cock. With his fangs piercing her throat, he thrust his hard flesh into her. Once he was sated, he drew his pants back up and faced Rein. “That is the pleasure that accompanies feeding.”
Before the succubus stumbled from the cell, she stooped, clutched her torn clothes, and pointed at Rein. “This is your fault.”
Warrick crowed, slapping her on the ass. “Pity to let a good thing go to waste. Eh?”
When Rein continued to scorn feedings, his appearance deteriorated. His skin grew dull, his cheeks hollow, his eyelids heavy and dark from lack of sleep. His clothes hung on his frame. His tattered shirt was no longer white, and his drab pants were torn. Defeat weighed on his slumped shoulders. Still, he struggled against his chains, dried blood caking his wounded flesh.
His guides grew increasingly persuasive. Balto threw a badly beaten Amazon in with Rein. She limped into the cell, dragging a busted leg, one eye swollen shut, a hand to broken ribs. “I’m about to tell you to fuck me while you feed. If you don’t, they’ll kill me.”
Rein sat cross-legged, glancing up, his lids heavy above his blue but soulless eyes. “What do you expect me to do?”
“Let them slay me. Assholes.”
“Okay. I’m good with that.”
He rested his head on his arms, waiting until Balto returned to rip her throat out with a savage feeding. Rein didn’t look up when they dragged her lifeless body from the cage.
“Let’s fast forward through this part. Because Boyo was very stubborn, what should have been one week of hell camp lasted five months. He fought the loss of his warlock powers, his future, as he saw it.”
Braelyn jerked her hand away from Indigo’s. “I don’t want to see any more.”
“But, chickadee, if he survived the cruel Awakening, you can do no less.”
With tears trickling down her cheeks, Braelyn slumped into the couch. No wonder Rein had trust issues. His mother had betrayed him, taken his hopes, his dreams to make him a monster.
Indigo passed her a box of tissues, giving her a few moments. “The Ghost of Christmas Past has more to show.”
After Braelyn swept the back of her hand across her face, she clasped Indigo’s palm.
