Page 71 of Entombed By Blood
“Callista, you’ll spend the day at one of your favourite haunts. You’ll give the impression that the situation is dealt with and listen for any whispers of insurrection from opportunists trying to make their moves.”
Callie nods, looking like she’s been given a death sentence rather than an order to party and drink the day away.
“You’ll return here afterwards to report on what you’ve heard,” Cain adds, and her lips form into a pretty pout she probably considers seductive.
And they callmecrazy. I’m not the one who wormed my way into the bed of the monster who made us, thinking I’d be safe there.
“Yes, sire,” she agrees easily, before getting up and following Bella’s hasty retreat.
Which leaves me and him alone.
I level a beaming smile at Cain as he turns his attention on me. “Morwenna, I want you to find them.”
My smile fades. “I’ve tried to find Frost before,” I growl. “It’s impossible.”
His eyes flash the second before his hand connects with my cheek. The silver signet ring he wears just for this purpose spreads fire across my face with the motion. When I look at the skin in the mirror later, I know I’ll see a familiar burn in the shape of his symbol. He likes branding me. It’s his way of reminding me that I’m nothing more than his property.
“I don’t care. I want her and that ghoul under your watch. If she takes too long, or if it so much as looks like she’s going to betray me a second time, you bring them both to face my judgement.Alive. Is that clear?”
I barely even notice the taste of my own blood. “Perfectly.”
“You’d do well to remember the consequences of failure.”
Like I can forget.Last time he removed both of my hands and let them regrow, only to cut them off again. He knows exactly what buttons to push to send me over the edge, and exactly how to press them to inflict maximum damage. There’s a reason it’s been decades since I last failed a task.
I toe the line. Barely.
“Every surveillance camera in the world is looking for Frost and his crew,” Cain continues. “You’ll follow every hit.”
I nod, but he still waits for the words he knows I won’t give him without a fight. When he raises his hand a second time, I just smile up at him.
Sometimes he finds my defiance amusing. Tonight isn’t one of those nights.
Good. I’m fed up of existing just to amuse this twisted motherfucker.
His hand comes down a second time, then a third. Each hit cracks my bones with the force. On the fourth hit, he grabs the silver chain around my throat and drags me to my feet with it before chucking me towards the fire. I manage to fling my arms out at the last moment. Stopping my momentum inches from the flames.
I’m not stupid enough to try and block the kick he levels at my ribs after that. My lungs seize at the impact, and I can’t breathe for several long seconds afterwards. I laugh through the pain as soon as I’m able to suck in air again. The wheezy sound echoes off the walls of his ostentatious marble sanctum, no doubt pissing him off further. My chest burns with the effort, and previous experience tells me he’s broken a rib or two.
“What do you say when I give you a task, Morwenna?” Cain’s voice is silky with danger, promising worse should I continue to hold out.
I debate it for a split second, but I know I can’t afford any more injuries if I have to chase Evelyn and her pets across the globe. “Thank you, sire.” I choke on the last word, falling onto my back with a wheezy cackle. “I live to chase down your failures.”
He smirks and bends down to stroke down the side of my face affectionately. For some reason, I lean into the touch, accepting the burn of the silver like the mad dog he believes me to be.
“You shouldn’t test me so, daughter. You know there will come a time when I won’t indulge you.”
I don’t reply as I allow my body to fall backward until I’m smiling blandly at the ceiling. Cain might mean it as a threat, but I’ve known my days were numbered since his men killed my mother in front of me.
Cain leaves me alone after that, retreating to his desk and scooping up another glass of blood on the way. He doesn’t comment, or even seem to notice, as I slowly pick myself up from the floor and trudge from the room without a word.
I’m not sure I even remember the trip from Triumph Island to the collection of old, converted factories which my sire uses to house his pet lycans. Pain has a way of sharpening my mind until everything but my destination blurs.
Affectionately known as the Compound, it’s part accommodation, part prison for the lycans who live here. The buildings are the only brick constructions left on the riverfront, and they stick out like a sore thumb. The solid, brutal architecture lacks the sleek, vegetation-covered glass and steel sophistication of the rest of New York. It also doesn’t have an elevator, and my tired ass curses every stair on the way to my apartment.
I trip over the threshold of my two-bedroom space and straight into a pair of familiar arms. Today, she’s dressed up like a rock-and-roll ballerina. Her dark hair is wrapped up in space buns on top of her head and her eyeliner is so thick it makes her eyes pop like amber flames.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” Mia whispers under her breath. She drags me over to the sofa in the middle of the room and rips off the studded wristband she’s wearing. She scores her own flesh with her claws and holds the dripping wound out to me in offering.
