Blackthorn [3] Blood Torn (5 page)

He descended the broad steps, handing the bundle of wet clothes to one of the lycans he passed at the foot of the staircase. ‘Incinerate those, will you?’ he directed, before making his way back outside.

* * *

Sophia pursued Jask across the outer room, but not in time to stop him slamming and locking the door behind himself.

She turned the handle regardless, but it didn’t budge. She slapped her palm against the doorplate in frustration before turning and slamming her bare heel against the base of the door.

‘Bastard,’ she hissed under her breath as she marched back into the bedroom.

She stood at the window and looked to the exit beyond. From what she had seen while heading in and from what she could see now, the rumours about impenetrable security were true. And with security like that, let alone with lycans dotted around everywhere, there was no way she was getting out of there unnoticed.

Even if she had been a witch long enough to know any spells off by heart, let alone had access to what she needed to perform them, Jask was guaranteed to have the place surrounded by wards to prevent any semblance of casting. He would never have left her unbound if not.

If Rone and Samson couldn’t get her out, she was screwed.

They
were who she needed –
after
she’d worked out why Jask wanted her. Because one way or another, more was at stake here and she needed to find out what.

Her heart skipped a beat as Jask headed out from the lobby and down the steps, his fair hair blowing in the breeze. She rolled up her dangling sleeves before folding her arms, irritated at how she trembled. But after her close encounter with him, she wasn’t entirely sure it was just out of anxiety or fury.

She’d been speaking the truth when she’d said he was even better-looking than the rumours – even if she had said it to wind him up, a refusal to be intimidated. But he was most
definitely
more than just a pretty boy. Jask Tao was in a league of his own. And his calm resolve in the bathroom, despite her prodding, was one trait that left her far too unsettled for comfort.

Composed, methodical and controlled – Jask was aggravatingly everything she wasn’t. Worse, she was already sensing the one-upmanship that only fuelled her irritation further.

He sat on the steps for a moment to lace up his boots, leaving his jeans bunched up against them as he descended the rest. As he crossed the quadrant towards the arch to the left, she admired his broad shoulders, the perfect triangle to his taut waist now a visible shadow as the early sunlight shone through his shirt – a shirt that skimmed his pert behind. And those arms that had held her down so easily, despite now being lax by his sides, still oozed power.

Lycan or not, that was one bedroom encounter she could do with experiencing – but the fact he
was
in that other league only exacerbated her barely contained frustration. Especially when he looked at her as though she was nothing more than a convenient commodity.

She watched him disappear through the arch where Rone and Samson had been taken and rested her hands on her hips as she turned around to scan the room.

First plan was to get to a phone. She’d try and call Leila or Alisha – find out what the hell had been going on. And then she’d call The Alliance and warn them.

She knew it was probably a long shot, but she’d try anyway. She rooted through his bed before searching the sole piece of furniture in the room – the chest of drawers nestled in the corner by the window. As possessions clearly weren’t a preoccupation for Jask, it was less than a minute before she turned her attention to his wardrobe.

She stood on tiptoe as she fumbled through the top shelf, finding little amidst a few sweaters and miscellaneous items. She prized apart the clothes on the rail, checking pockets, until she came to a few dresses tucked away in the far left-hand side. It seemed Jask didn’t sleep alone despite the rumours he didn’t have a mate. She quashed the stirring sense of disappointment. No wonder he was so contemptuous of her advances – it appeared the third-species leader had something of a rare honourable streak.

She turned her attention to the bathroom. She pulled out the drawers of the vanity unit, finding most of them empty aside from some scent bottles along with some hair accessories and a few brushes – clearly belonging to the same female who owned the clothes. She picked up the nearest brush and examined the fair hairs it had trapped. She glanced back at her muss of dark hair in the mirror, before throwing the brush back in the drawer and slamming it shut.

She picked up her boots and marched back through to the lounge, but there was nothing there
to
search. She needed to look further afield.

Kneeling in front of the door, she upturned her left boot and slid the heel aside. Removing the pins hidden inside the hollow of the heel, she cast the boot aside again.

It was a basic lock and ridiculously easy pickings. Unlocking it within seconds, she turned the handle and opened the door ajar slightly to peer outside.

All was quiet.

She tucked her head through the gap and peered out fully onto the landing.

Countless bedrooms lay in the hallway beyond. And she knew from the fact they were only on the second floor that there were even more bedrooms above. Someone had to have left a phone around somewhere.

She got to her feet and opened the door.

But stopped herself crossing the threshold.

Giving away her escapology skills at that stage was not going to be helpful – not until she could guarantee contact with Rone or Samson. Not until she found out what they knew and, more importantly, what their motivations were for hiding it from Jask.

Strategy was more important than ever.

She closed the door again and relocked it. She tucked the pins back into place and sat on the floor to pull both boots on. She laced them up before resting back against the wall, stretching her legs out and crossing one over the other.

He may be stronger, but she was smarter.

She
would
turn this to her advantage. To the advantage of The Alliance. To the advantage of their cause.

She may have failed to take down powerhouse vampire, Caleb Dehain. The notoriously most wanted Kane Malloy may have remained as consistently elusive from the authorities as always, let alone from The Alliance. But she was right in the heart of lycan territory now with third-species ringleader number three.

An assassination from the inside was the last thing anyone would expect. And if that wouldn’t send a message to the untouchable underworld, the likes of Caleb Dehain and Kane Malloy, nothing would.

* * *

Jask headed to the arch on the far side of the green and strode through the short tunnel. He passed the gate to the greenhouse on his left and then the oak on his right, the centuries-old tree marking the middle of the courtyard partially concealing the outhouse beyond.

Turning the handle, he pushed open the weighty door and crossed the bare foyer to the holding room opposite.

Rone and Samson sat at the table with their backs to the door. Corbin sat in a chair opposite them, leaning back against the wall. The atmosphere was dense with sullenness.

Samson immediately looked across his shoulder as Jask closed the door behind himself. But Rone remained facing forward.

Usually he’d take the head of the table, but this time Jask took the seat beside Corbin instead so he could look Rone and Samson direct in the eye.

But both youths kept their eyes lowered.

Jask knew he shouldn’t be allowing himself to be so personally affronted by the fact Rone was involved yet again. But the youth’s habit of walking into danger, especially so innocently, irritated too much. This time, even Corbin – usually the youth’s advocate – was going to struggle to justify his behaviour.

‘What was the deal?’ Jask asked.

Samson glanced at Rone, the latter finally meeting Jask’s glare.

‘A few herbs,’ Rone declared.

The revelation was worse than a stab to the lungs, the breathlessness making Jask’s chest clench. It was an act worthy of banishment. There was a time when he would have embraced getting Rone out of his sight, but now he was actually facing the prospect, it only made him feel sick. ‘You were
supplying
?’

Both youths glanced nervously at Corbin whose upright posture now echoed Jask’s disapproval. Corbin who equally knew of the punishment for the unthinkable crime against their pack.

Wide-eyed, Rone switched his attention back to Jask and nodded.

‘You were supplying
this
community’s herbs? The herbs we fight to keep alive. That ensure
we
stay alive. The herbs that allow the only semblance of freedom we have left. You were selling them off to vampires? And in Kane’s territory of
all
places?’

‘It was a one-off,’ Rone said, struggling to maintain eye contact under the weight of his leader’s glare. ‘I swear. A vampire approached us. She said she only needed a few. She needed to sell something on to some witch in order to get something to help her kid out. I felt sorry for her.’

‘So you struck a deal?’

Rone looked back down at the table.

Something wasn’t right. Something in his story didn’t ring true. Not just that, but he could read far too much in the youth’s eyes. It was a story they’d concocted whilst awaiting his and Corbin’s arrival, no doubt. As if Rone couldn’t disfavour himself to Jask any more, the youth was daring to lie to him.

‘And that’s who you went to meet?’ Jask asked. ‘Some lone female vampire in an isolated part of Blackthorn?’

Rone looked back at him, but dropped his gaze just as quickly as he seemingly realised how flawed the possibility was. ‘We didn’t want to be seen. And she was desperate.’

No vampire female would have been that desperate and they all knew it. They’d been up to something else. But they weren’t ready to talk yet, for whatever reason.

But they would.

Because that reason for holding back worried him more – and not just for the pack. Something told him Rone had got in over his head this time, and his resulting protective instincts were irritatingly kicking in against his will.

‘What’s her name?’ Jask asked, his glare burning into Rone’s lowered head, his mop of fair hair covering his eyes. Harsh impatience edged his tone as he turned to the other youth instead. ‘Samson?’

‘I don’t remember,’ Samson said, glancing up from under his eyelashes.

Whatever was going on, it was bad enough for them
both
to risk being avoidant.

‘So I’ve got no way of tracing this mystery vampire?’

‘We thought the less we knew about each other, the better,’ Rone said, his continuation to lie escalating both Jask’s fury
and
concern.

Jask rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward.

Sensing his leader’s irritation, Corbin leaned forward to mirror him – the cautionary measure one he rarely took anymore.

It was sign enough to the youths that they had overstepped the mark. How little chance they’d stand if Jask took the decision that he wanted the truth instantly. Under those circumstances, Corbin would be his reasoning head. Or from the way the youths glanced at Corbin, they certainly seemed to hope so.

‘You know the implications if it leaks out we’re willing to sell our substances,’ Jask said. ‘You know what threat that puts us under from the authorities. That’s why the answer is no. The answer is
always
no. No negotiation. You showed weakness. Your stupidity tonight could have massive implications – a ripple we cannot control. If the Lycan Control Unit hear of this they will come in and rip every herb from this place, then what do we do? Morph and be shot down on the streets? Or go on the Global Council’s meds and be filled with whatever shit they secretly put in those things? Our herbs are our lifeline and you know it.’

Neither youth dared look up.

‘What do you know about the serryn?’ Jask asked. ‘The one you so happened to stumble on.’ Though, more worryingly, he now believed that a coincidence even less than the existence of the mysterious female vampire.

‘Everything we saw, we told you,’ Rone said, still unable to make full eye contact despite the change of focus.

‘You were down there at least an hour. You’re telling me she said nothing to you?’

Rone shook his head. ‘Other than to try and persuade us to let her go.’

Jask looked from Rone to Samson and back to Rone again. ‘I’m casketing you both for twelve hours.’

Their gazes snapped to Jask’s in an accumulation of abject panic and horror.

‘No,’ Rone gasped instinctively.

‘You chose outsiders over your pack. That is unforgiveable. Worsened by the fact you may have jeopardised our freedom. You know the rules. You protest and it becomes twenty-four.’ Jask stood. ‘Immediate effect.’

He could feel Corbin’s disapproval burning into him, but his second in command didn’t say a word. Instead, he followed suit and stood.

Samson reluctantly did the same, the whites of his eyes upsettingly exposed.

Rone pushed back his chair and stood more slowly. This time he did dare to meet Jask’s glare long enough to make his umbrage obvious. But he at least had the sense to remain tight-lipped as he followed Jask out of the room, Corbin bringing up the rear.

Jask took a sharp left down the few broad steps to the stone corridor, dawn light paving the way from the high, rectangular windows nestled deep in the stone above. Their footsteps were the only things to break the ominous silence as they passed the first and then second door on the left.

Opening the third, Jask stepped inside the forty-foot-square cellar. The walls left, right and ahead were lined with upright caskets – five in total.

Striding past the stone table that lay central to the room, Jask chose the casket to the right.

No lycan could handle being contained. And the smaller the space, the greater the torture. It was a punishment he rarely had to use. A punishment that sickened him.