Rosko, Mandy - Night and Day (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) (16 page)

“How
dare
you?”

“What is it?” Ben asked, stepping forward to look.

“There is no agreed upon time or place,” Cedric said. “He’s going to ambush them in the middle of the day.”

Cyricus ripped the blueprints off the desk and stuffed them away in a crumpled heap in a drawer. “Get out of here. You’re not the son I raised.”

Cedric licked his lips, all the times when he submitted and acted like the good and proper little boy for his parents coming to mind. Hell, he nearly married his cousin for them. “You’re right, I’m not.”

And with that, he strode out of the room.

Ben was hot on his heels. He grabbed at Cedric’s shoulders, but he shrugged him off until Ben’s grip got so tight that he couldn’t throw him off anymore.

“Where are you going?” Ben asked.

To the nearest bit of direct sunlight so he could
flash
.
“Back to the Veturious manse. I was so stupid to come here first. I need to find Silus.” He was so itchy to leave his body jittered.

Ben seemed to be struggling with something. “Ceddy, what if he didn’t show up to that cabin on purpose?”

That got Cedric to hold still for sure. “He swore he was going to meet me.
One way or another
. Those were his exact words.”

“I know, I know, but think about it. I’m not even sure when this challenge was issued. What if Silus’s father sent it out before you left that last time? Wouldn’t it have made sense for him to give you those keys, told you to wait for him in some location hidden from his family, but really he’s planning to fight beside his father?”

Cedric never thought of that before, and fuck, he hated that Ben was actually making sense.

But then, any and all doubts brought on were quickly banished. “He knows how I feel about my family. He wouldn’t go into a duel to the death with any of them.”

“Are you sure?”

Memories of himself looking into Silus’s eyes and then pleading with him to give his own parents a chance before disowning them came to mind. Silus had seen the pain in Cedric’s eyes. He knew.

“Positive.” Just as he was positive that, wherever Silus was, he was waiting for Cedric. Something was keeping Silus from calling to Cedric, but he still felt a tiny pull that had to be more than his own worry.

Ben sighed. “Okay, then I might have an idea.”

Chapter Twelve

He was dying. Within an hour, Silus had been bled again, fed, allowed a moment to breathe, then it was done all over again. This time he had been cut only at his wrists instead of both wrists and ankles, and not quite as deep, but it was enough.

The blood-filled bowls had been taken away by Crowley. Winchester had questioned him again, and when Silus spat in his face, he was left confined to his bedchamber, tied down like an animal.

Crowley and Winchester were not far off, speaking with his parents, who were in the beginning stages of mourning. He knew this by the black garments they wore the last time they came to see him. His mother had been dragged into the room by his father. She took one look at him from beneath a black-spotted veil before turning from the room.

Did they not know it was them who were responsible for his condition? That this constant bleeding was killing him, not Cedric’s blood?

Blood. He needed it again. So thirsty. His skin was loose from a lack of the life fluids.

“Here, my lord.” A cool hand under his neck lifted him up, and then a glass was pressed to his lips.

Water. He must’ve complained of his thirst out loud. He drank greedily, the liquid a cold gush of relief in his mouth and on his tongue, but ultimately doing nothing to ease his inner ache, what he had really been thirsting for.

He opened his eyes when the glass was taken away to stare at the servant. No, not servant. This man was dressed as a guard, the black suit a giveaway, even though he did not wear the telltale shades.

He knew it was a man and not a were because he could smell the lifeblood that Silus was so thirsty for. There was pity in the guard’s green eyes, and Silus instantly knew he could use it.

Humans only worked for vampires for one reason and one reason only.

“I’ll turn you.”

His face dropped before returning to normal much too late. Silus had already seen the shock. “Milord, I—”

“What is your name?” His words were scratches against his throat, but he needed to keep speaking. He needed to persuade.

“Sampson, sire”

Whether it was the first name or surname, Silus cared not. “You do not look familiar. You are new to this family.”

Not a question. Sampson nodded.

“They’ll never change you. You will never receive that reward. You will work until your bones are too old to carry you, then they will throw you away. Like everyone else.”

Sampson’s lips thinned. “You would say something like that. Get me to betray the family.”

Silus could barely keep his eyes open. He was developing tunnel vision. “Does it matter? You want what I am offering, so much that you would become a servant for creatures who feed on you when you are not in that suit.”

“I was promised.” Sampson’s nostrils flared.

Silus rolled his tongue, attempting to put some moisture in his dry mouth. It barely worked. “Even if they keep that promise, are you willing to wait two decades? Or three? Or four? Those years are nothing to my kind, but you will be old and frail by then.”

Silus lifted his head as much as he was able. “I will transform you now.”

A look of betrayal entered Sampson’s eyes, but otherwise, he seemed to accept Silus’s words with ease. Of course, he worked with creatures—some bloodthirsty in more than just the literal sense—that other humans could never comprehend. That look of betrayal was quickly replaced with hunger. Hunger for what he was being offered.

“You’re telling the truth?” Sampson asked, dropping the
milord
and
sire
nonsense.

Silus nodded, his fangs lengthening with the thought of a coming drink that would not be bled from him. “Why do you think the house employs mostly werewolves? They cannot be changed. They will always be servants.”

Sampson was already rolling up his sleeve, and with the cloth out of the way, the scent of warm flesh and the sound of pulsing blood became all consuming.

Silus managed to find the strength to lift his head even.

Sampson pulled away at the last second. “Swear to me.”

The pounding of the man’s heart, increasing the scent of his life-blood as he was ready to receive what he most desired was nearly too much. Silus didn’t dare lie. “I swear it.”

“Good, because if you’re lying…” Sampson pulled his gun from his holster, the cold barrel of his Glock hard on Silus’s temple.

Silus was not afraid of it, but he nodded anyway before biting down on the offered vein.

* * * *

Cedric had left his father’s study and immediately
flashed
himself to a spot just outside of Silus’s family manse. Cyricus’s cowardly attack was going to happen any minute, any
second
now. As soon as enough of Cedric’s cousins, uncles, and former friends could be gathered, that small army would fall upon the vampires like they were avenging angels or something. They all, no doubt, thought they were exactly that.

Cedric’s thigh jittered as he waited for Benny to come back. Though Cedric could
flash
himself onto the property and near a door, Ben had wanted to go in first to make sure the coast was clear.

He still seemed to take his duties as a guard seriously, despite it no longer being his job to care for Cedric’s safety. Unfortunately, it left Cedric hiding behind the big brick gate on the west side of the vampire manse, beside a small hedge, checking his watch every ten seconds.

It was a weak spot for the cameras. It was how they’d gotten in those times previous. Hide, make sure the coast was clear, teleport, look for an empty spot through the windows, teleport again. The last time it seemed to go much faster than this, however, and it was making Cedric antsy as fuck.

C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.

“What are you doing there?”

Cedric froze and looked up.

Uh-oh. Being well hidden from the cameras didn’t mean well hidden from patrol guards, it seemed. A freaking giant walked toward him like a soldier.

“What?” he said stupidly.

He was sure it was a man. Werewolves were just as big as this guy, but usually shaggier. The guy approached him with long and purposeful strides. Cedric got to his feet just as he got up in his face. Sort of. The man was taller and bulkier by far, especially with all that armor on.

“This is private property. You’re to the leave the premises immediately,” he said in a deep baritone.

Not going to happen. He had to wait for Ben.

Stall, you idiot!

“C’mon, man, I was just looking for a place to crash for the night. Wasn’t hurting anything.” It was a line he usually said to Ben back in their college days when he got wasted and didn’t feel like going home.

He only hoped the guy bought the drunk routine.

Even though the guy wore black shades, Cedric could still see a single dark brow lift above them. It almost looked like he was being studied.

“You’re that sun sprite, aren’t you? The one who kept on sneaking in and out of here.”

Shit
.

Just as the guy moved his beefy hand up to the radio on his shoulder, Ben popped back into existence behind him, looped his arm around Andre the Giant’s neck, and pulled his weight so they both fell back.

The big guy landed on top of him, and Cedric could hear as the air whooshed from Ben’s chest. The only thing that kept his ribs from cracking was probably the vest armor Ben wore.

Knowing what his guard was doing, Cedric rushed down to grab at the big guy’s arms, pinning them down so Ben could keep his grip on that thick tree trunk of a neck.

Ten seconds of struggling and twitching later, Andre was out like a light.

Ben released the guy’s neck, and Cedric tentatively let go of his arms so Ben could push the guy off him.

“You okay?” Cedric asked, his breathing heavy from the excitement rather than because he’d had a two hundred and some odd pound guy on him.

“Couldn’t breathe for a sec.” He barely sounded like he was breathing now.

“How long’s he going to be out?”

Ben sat up, quickly regaining his strength now that he didn’t have an extra three hundred pounds on him. “Long enough for us to get in and get out. I can’t explain it. The place is crawling with guards, but I don’t think they’re looking for us.”

They both looked down at the soldier taking a nap.

“Let’s go before they find out we came.” Cedric flashed out and reappeared in front of Silus’s patio door. It was locked this time, so he had to wait for Ben to come and teleport him in since there was no direct sunlight inside.

He instantly grabbed his nose and nearly puked. The sights and smells were enough to bring a better man to his knees. On the bed, where they had… Blood splotches. Big, deep and dark. Everywhere.

He bent down to grab his knees as the floor waved around at his feet. This was exactly what he’d seen in his nightmare—what Ben had woken him up from. Why hadn’t he realized? He could’ve gotten here so much sooner. Now he might be… “Jesus Christ.”

Ben rubbed his back, but he didn’t take his eyes away from the bed either. “He’s not here. Maybe he’s okay.”

That was way too much blood, even for a vampire, to be okay. What did they do to him? “I shouldn’t have left him.”

“If you’d stayed, they would’ve done this to you, too,” Ben whispered.

Not exactly what Cedric had meant. What he meant was that he should’ve taken Silus with him right away instead of trusting those stuck-up parents of his to not do something as
Chainsaw Massacre
as this.

Perhaps this was why Silus never contacted him through that vamp link they shared. Whatever it was they did looked pretty damn gruesome. Something like that would make it hard to focus.

Except for that nightmare Cedric had, which obviously wasn’t a nightmare.

He was going to fucking kill whoever did this. Rip them apart and throw the pieces into the sun just to watch them burn.

Ben was trying to gently pull Cedric back out from whence they came, apparently having also decided there was no hope. But Cedric’s feet stayed rooted on the spot. He couldn’t leave. Not yet. There was still something inside him pulling in the other direction.

A low moan sounded in the room. Ben had his gun out and drawn faster than Cedric could think of a
Quick and the Dead
reference. But there was no one else in the room with them.

Another faint groan sounded.

“D’you hear that?” Ben asked. Poor guy was probably creeped out that he had nothing but noise to point his Glock at.

Cedric did hear it. And he also heard where it was coming from. He stepped in front of his gun-toting friend and moved for the slasher movie prop of a bed.