Page 33 of Maker

“I don’t think you’re in enough pain to make the wolf come,” Gideon said. “It’s a pity I will have to make you cry.”

He shook out a whip that had been curled at his waist, one of the many implements of pain he carried with him. He used the toe of his boot to turn Maddox’s bound body over, dumping him into the moldering leaf dirt.

Cracks of the whip echoed through the forest with a steady rhythm. Back and ass, back and ass, Gideon worked between the two locations without any kind of emotion. If he felt guilt, he did not show it. If he enjoyed it, he did not show that either. It was a businesslike beating, one that failed to find the mark no matter how many times the mark was struck.

Maddox did not make a sound, no matter how many times the lash landed, or how it began to raise welts on his flesh. He did not cry. He did not whimper. He did not so much as speak a word of complaint. He could not stop Gideon, but he could at least not become compliant in the trap.

“It was not the best idea to tear your throat out before I needed you to scream,” Gideon mused, finally giving up after well over a hundred lashes had landed. “I must be slightly sleepy still.”

* * *

Will and Henry ran until the sun rose. They covered many miles, over hills and through valleys, up a river and around the big mountain, not cresting it, but traversing around to the other side. Only when their paws were threatening to bleed did they stop and take human form again by the side of a river.

Trees rose thick around the river clearing, and the morning sun gleamed across the rippling rivulets of the stream as it covered rocks and silt and ran out toward the tamed world beyond the wilds.

“I’m a fucking coward,” Will cursed. “A fucking worthless coward.”

“No. You’re not. You’re finally getting smart. I’m proud of you.” Henry clapped him on the shoulder.

Will looked at Henry, surprised. “You are?”

“Yes. You’ve come a long way, Will. You’re finally able to act on sense, rather than pure instinct. Maddox will be so proud of you. I know, if he was here, he’d tell you that himself.”

“And where is he?”

“I don’t know. We have to trust that Maddox and Lorien are looking after themselves, the same way we’re looking after ourselves. We’re loving them, by keeping ourselves safe. And I hope they’re doing the same.”

16

Maddox was recovering at home, having been brought back there by Gideon. His private sanctuary and seat of power was now little more than a prison to which he kept being returned.

He had been regaining his strength steadily, while hiding that same fact from Gideon. When he made the next move, it would have to surprise the Maker. He had no idea what that move would be. He was out of options, out of ideas, and he was quickly running out of hope.

For the moment, Gideon was distracted by being annoyed with someone else. Lorien was about to bear the brunt of the maker’s ire for their failed attempt to catch Will. Maddox was unspeakably proud of Will for not taking that particular bait.

“You lied to me, baby vampire. We didn’t find a wolf in the area.”

“Will’s many things,” Lorien said. “But he’s not stupid. He survived prison as a teenager. He’s not going to be baited that easily. It was worth a try, I suppose. But it was never going to work. I could have told you that if you’d asked.”

“There’s more sass in that tone than I care for,” Gideon observed.

“Oh no,” Lorien deadpanned recklessly.

“Lorien,” Maddox said his name in a soft gravel. His voice had returned, not at full strength, but it was healed enough that he could speak and be understood.

“I’m sorry,” Lorien apologized, modulating his attitude a little. “I didn’t want to give them up.”

“You did the right thing,” Maddox reassured him. “For the moment, we are all prisoners of the bloodline.”

“The way the two of you speak as if I am not here could be construed as being disrespectful,” Gideon observed.

“You can hear us wherever we are, and whatever we say. Would you prefer we pretend you are not a domineering monster?”

“Lorien, quiet,” Maddox said. He was starting to become deeply concerned that everybody he knew would soon fall prey to Gideon. The maker’s patience had to be waning. He was being thwarted at every turn, and Will’s ongoing survival was a real thorn in his side. The Maker would not be patient for long.

“Sassy little baby vamp,” Gideon smirked. “I know what should be done to you. You should be returned to your maker for a good, long lesson in respect.”

“Good luck with that,” Lorien laughed.

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