Blood Entangled (33 page)

“Apparently the universe likes you better than me.” Kos glowered, doing his shoulder thing some more. “You get vengeance, and I get a wrench in my plans.”

Andre rolled his eyes and then kicked in the door. It fell with a splintering crash. Pedro lifted the Hunter by the scruff of the neck—he’d always wanted to do that. Kos began to look around the office, and Andre found an orange extension cord and wrapped it around the Hunter, tight, like a boa constrictor. Cool trick. Probably one of Andre’s throwbacks from his days as a Roman Centurion. Apparently he could also drive a chariot—not that they ever tried that at Kaštel.

“Derek?” a quiet, crackly voice asked.

Where was it coming from? It sounded familiar.

“Captured,” the Hunter grunted.

“Ah. I’m sorry to hear that. Is my friend Marasović with you?” It was Ethan, somewhere on a telephone.

Pedro growled, his phantom wounds pricking at the sound of his tormentor.
Jesu Cristo
, he hated that
hijo de puta
.

“Yes, Marasović, and his son, and the new one,” Derek replied. Andre gagged him with the end of the extension cord before he could speak again.

“Greetings, Kosjenic. And, Pedro, please give Lucas my love. I promise we’ll all be seeing each other very soon.”

The line went quiet, but the screen of the Hunter’s cell phone still glowed under the desk. Pedro picked it up and slipped it into his pocket. On the computer monitor, a spreadsheet showed all the outlets that had ordered shipments of Blood Vine from the distributor.

Kos scrolled down screen. “They’re trying to track the sales.”

“
Davo.
We will have to prevent that. Maybe provide Matthew with some security.”

Pedro babysat the Hunter in the office while Kos and Andre unloaded the wine. Eventually the warehouse door slammed. They were finished. Pedro threw the orange bundle of human over his shoulder and met them outside.

Andre craned his neck to speak over his shoulder as he shut the trailer door. “Will you go to Lena now? Or return with us to interrogate the prisoner?”

Kos reached back and rubbed his neck. His head tilted from side to side, as if he were weighing his duties. Of all the males Pedro knew, human or vampire, Kos was the most honorable. His face turned red, his normally full mouth a thin line in his fine face. Even Pedro could feel the painful pull between the two obligations.

Finally, Kos’s hand dropped to his side where his fingers curled helplessly. “Lena will be okay. Hopefully, she got my message and knows I’m coming soon.”

Pedro drove back to Kaštel with Hunter prisoner number three locked in the truck’s trailer. As they drove through the rolling hills of wine country, his torture replayed, step by step, to the sound of Ethan’s words.
We’ll all be seeing each other very soon.

No one bothered to turn on a light inside the cavernous workroom. Pedro shoved the Hunter into the closet and slammed the door.

Kos appeared, and anxious energy rolled off him in waves. The anxiety reverberated inside Pedro, setting his own nerves to thrum and his skin to burn. The twitch of the other vampire’s fingers flexing in the darkness made Pedro jump.

The desperation to go to Lena was all over Kos’s face. “Did you call Bel?”

Andre’s lips pressed together and he shook his head. “I thought it best to wait on you.”

“Why do we need Bel?” Pedro backed against the closet door for support and pressed his palms into the wood, hard.

Kos’s chest rose with a breath. “He’s the only one any good at interrogating Hunters. Didn’t you notice with Lucas?”

Too bad Bel had gone back to Los Angeles in a huff, pissed off at his father over old family secrets.

“Zoey’s waiting in my office.” Andre led the way, Pedro and Kos following mutely.

Zoey sat with her knees drawn up to her chest. Vania and Omar paced in interlocking circles. Good. Everyone was there for the pow-wow. Pedro took a spot in the corner, out of the frenetic movement.

Kos dialed and turned on the speaker phone.

“This is Bel. What’s up?” He sounded like he was at the end of a long tunnel.

“We need you here,” Andre said.

“What happened?” the distant voice asked.

Kos recounted the events at the warehouse, his posture slackening as he spoke. Jealousy tickled Pedro’s gut, and he wished he was the one distracted by telling the story. Instead, images gripped him—of himself taped to a table, of Ethan’s nasty sharp tools arrayed next to his head where he had a perfect view. His stomach twisted and he swallowed back bile.

“So, we need you to interrogate him,” Andre said.

“No way. You’re on your own, big daddy.”

Vania snickered behind her hand. Normally, Pedro would have enjoyed their bickering too, but he was too damn wound up.

“I’m out of practice,” Andre replied.

“Wimp,” Bel said. “Then who’s going to do it?”

Zoey flicked her hand up at the wrist. “I have an idea. What about Vania?”

“What about her?” Vania straightened.

“Can’t you get his Hunter blood boiling with your special super fire power?”

Oh Jesus. Zoey’d said it. They were going to hurt him…

Pedro doubled over, palm flat against the brick wall to keep his balance as the room spun. No one seemed to notice.

“I don’t use my fire to torture. I draw the line at death and destruction.”

Bel laughed over the speakerphone—the only one who did. Pedro sucked down a refreshing gulp of oxygen, and the room righted itself. He stood, digging his fingers into mortar.

Kos frowned at him, as if he’d just noticed Pedro’s state. He shook his head and mouthed the words,
I’m fine.

After a moment, Kos went on. “Let’s just try good cop, bad cop.” Kos see-sawed his head from side to side, his tension apparently returning. Pedro rubbed his own shoulders in sympathy.

Bel spoke from his end of the tunnel. “While I admire your kind souls, none of you is a convincing bad cop.”

Looking around the room, Kos’s gaze settled on the African vampire. “How about Omar? He’s so big it’s easy to miss he’s a gentle giant.”

The huge vampire made a rude gesture at Kos. Okay, maybe not so gentle.

“Omar’s bad cop to your good cop?” Bel asked, still sounding a million miles away. “That’s worth a try.”

When Pedro opened his mouth, the words flew out like trapped birds. “Duct tape him to a table.”

Bel laughed, an eerie, distant sound. “If he was there when Ethan had a go at you, that’ll scare the piss out of him.”

“Who was on the phone?”

Ethan looked up. Gwen stood in the doorway, her mouth agape. He followed her line of sight to where his gold-handled sun dagger stood. Its sharp tip stuck a full inch into the surface of his mahogany desk. How on earth had that happened? He had to unwrap his fingers from the handle one at a time, they had grown so stiff from his crushing grip.

“It was Derek. He’s been captured, which is a disappointment. But, the last domino has fallen. The wine is delivered. It’s time to get Mason.”

“And rescue the girl. What’s her name, anyway?”

Ethan tilted his head. “I’ve forgotten…”

Gwen frowned.

Then the blood slave’s name sprang into his mind like a gift from God, sparing him Gwen’s judgment. “Lena. Her name is Lena.”

Chapter 25

“F
UCKING
T
RAITOR
. I don’t understand how you could do it.”

In the darkness of the closet, Lucas was tempted to plug his ears. It was possibly the thousandth time Leo had said it. His hostile verbal assault was annoying, but not intimidating, given that Leo was half his size.

Lucas ignored him. His whole life was a waiting game. It didn’t matter if he waited in a dark closest, in a bedroom at Kaštel, or in a motel somewhere. Wherever he was, either Pedro or Ethan would find him eventually.

“I need to take a piss,” Leo said. “What time is it?”

Lucas pressed his watch’s backlight. “Five.”

“Someone will bring dinner soon.”

It was dark in the closet and he couldn’t see the kid, but he could hear his fingers drumming the wall, his shoes scuffing the floor, the fabric of his pants rubbing together as he crossed and uncrossed his legs. Damn, he was restless.

Ten minutes later, he said it again. “Fucking traitor. I don’t understand how you could do it.”

Only when he’d heard it one thousand and one times did Lucas understand it for what it was—a question.

“I’ll tell you, Leo.”

The kid stopped fidgeting instantly, and the closet grew perfectly still.

“It wasn’t that hard. My brother is a sociopath and a sadist, traits he inherited from my father. Choosing to do the right thing, to defend a man I like against them—easy call.”

“Yeah, and look how he repays you. Locking you in a goddamn closet. I bet he’s been fucking you like a dog these last two weeks and now he’s tired of you.”

“I kept a secret from him. I don’t blame him for being angry.”

Leo didn’t reply. He must have expected Lucas to rail against Pedro.

“Let me ask you a question, kid. Don’t you think it’s sick, attacking a place like this and killing the whole household—humans, nice ones?”

Leo sat silent again. Had he been wondering the same thing?

Finally, he spoke in a perfectly rational tone. “It’s not nice, man, but it’s necessary, and you know it. They’re the sick ones. They’ve been brainwashed, fed upon. They’re tainted.”

“Right. Brainwashed.”

Leo didn’t reply, and Lucas assumed the irony had been lost on him.

Sometime later, Ally brought two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches down to them. It sure wasn’t Lena’s awesome cooking, but at least it was better than the cold oatmeal at Hunter headquarters.

Leo and Lucas took turns in the toilet with the big vampire Omar as the heavy outside. Leo didn’t take his eyes off Omar the whole time they were out of the cell. Omar stared back until, enraged by the glare, he hissed at Leo. The kid scurried into the closet, although by Lucas’s account he’d pretty much won the staring contest.

Ally rested her hand on Lucas’s shoulder and squeezed before she closed the door behind him. In the dark, he put his hand on the same shoulder and tried to absorb her kindness into his soul.

“That’s the biggest dude I’ve ever seen.” Leo sounded like a kid at the zoo.

True enough—Omar was at least six foot six, big and beautiful. Lucas slid down the wall, same place where he’d parked his ass before. The concrete floor was still warm. He banged his head against the wall and closed his eyes.

“Hey, Lucas?”

“Kid, do you ever shut up?”

“Don’t call me a kid.”

“Fine.”

“I have a question.”

Why not? What else did he have to do besides listen to an angry, idiotic kid rant in a closet. “Shoot.”

“Have you always been gay?”

Never mind. Lucas preferred silence. He wanted to say,
I so do not want to talk about this
, but he resisted. “Yes, Leo. From the day I was born.”

“You never fucked a girl?”

“Uh, once. It was awful.” Was this going where Lucas thought it was? As much as he wanted to end the conversation, some morbidly curious part of him couldn’t resist. “What about you Leo? Ever fucked a girl?”

“No.”

Yep, just where he thought. Ugly? No. Shy? No. Only one reason Leo had never fucked a girl. Lucas opted for quiet and hoped Leo would too.

“Would you do it to me?”

So it was
it
now, not a fuck? Poor kid. Growing up a gay Hunter was not fun.

Lucas employed his most authoritative tone. “Absolutely not.”

“Why?” Leo replied with a whine.

“Because you’re just a…you’re too young for me. And you shouldn’t have sex for the first time in a prison cell, or a closet.”