Blood Lily (Lilith Adams Vampire Series Book 1) (48 page)

Cohen was still standing right in front of her, facing away. If he was toying with Ashcroft, she needed to know. She leaned as far as she could and forced her words into a harsh whisper. “What the fuck are you doing, Cohen? If you’re trying to buy time, I think you have to have some expectation for backup or it just prolongs the inevitable. I’d much rather die quickly than string this out.”

Cohen moved awa
y without a single word and whatever hope she had died, crumbling into tiny pieces. She looked around the room in shock, tears burning in her eyes. Whitmore’s stocky body was still lying lifeless on the floor above a huge pool of blood. Alvarez was near him, his own blood adding to the congealing pool.

Duncan was straining and fighting against his chains, trying desperately to get closer. His eyes were large and red rimmed, his lips were tinged blue, snarled in an animalistic growl of pain.
If he didn’t get blood soon he was going to die. The higher functions of his brain were already gone. Even if he did reach that congealing pool, she doubted it would truly help him. Cohen’s blood might not even restore his sanity.

Gregor was free, but he obviously wasn’t going to
suicidally charge in and try to save her. Chance was probably still recovering, if Coffee hadn’t found him already. It was hopeless. The rest of her existence would be right here in this basement. Even if she survived the torture that awaited her, she’d be as insane as Duncan, just a starving, traumatized animal in a human-shaped shell.

With a blur of motion that made her dizzy again, Ashcroft reappeared with several bags of blood and an IV stand. She’d been right about the puncture wounds in the crook of Miriah’s elbows. He’d been resupplying her with blood the entire time. The growing bubble of panicked despair only grew when Cohen returned with the bucketful of items.

“Attach the needle to the tubing and place the bucket under her left side.” Cohen very carefully followed Ashcroft’s direction like some mindless drone. Was he really under Ashcroft’s spell? Could it even work that way? That still didn’t explain Cohen’s ideas about keeping her as some kind of science project. That definitely hadn’t come from Ashcroft. No. He wasn’t under anyone’s spell. These were just his true colors.

With a surge of uncontrollable anger and betrayal, Lilith kicked out while Cohen was bent over, positioning the bucket. Her foot connected with the side of his face, knocking him to the ground. Her smug satisfaction didn’t last long. The lack of support pulled her wrists against the
manacles, biting painfully into the skin and straining her shoulder joints. Lilith grunted in pain and fought to get back on her tip toes to relieve the pressure.

Ashcroft was suddenly in front of her again and she felt the cold pressure of a scalpel against her neck. “Demon, secure her
legs.” His snarl wrinkled every scarred line of his face into a hideous mask of hatred. He turned those lifeless eyes on her and they looked like the windows into hell. “Kick again…”

To hell with this.
“Or what? You’ll kill me? Go ahead. One last second that I have to look at your fucked up face. One last tyrannical speech just to hear the sound of your own shrill fucking voice.” Lilith kicked with everything she had at Ashcroft’s knee. She heard the pop of his knee dislocating seconds before Ashcroft’s screeching howl of pain. He stumbled backwards as she struggled to regain her balance.

“I have the prisoner, Sir.” Coffee’s deep, booming voice knocked the wind out of her small little victory. Ashcroft stood up and popped his knee back into place with a hiss. His cruel eyes bore into her with a demented
sort of delight.

“Oh I won’t kill you, my dear. However, if you don’t wish to witness your betrothed die a very slow, agonizing death, you will not struggle again.”

Lilith looked past Ashcroft to see Richard Coffee towering above Chance, his mammoth hand grasping Chance’s entire shoulder. Her heart felt a million things at once. He was still alive, better than alive. He looked almost completely healed. Apparently, he’d decided to ditch his shirt. Bullet holes tend to be pretty permanent after all. There was a pinkish red blotch on his smooth chest, no gaping hole. Of course, he was also here, stuck in hell with her and Duncan. Fighting back suddenly had consequences. Ashcroft knew the power he had over her. He may be wrong about the engagement, but he wasn’t wrong about the deep feelings there.

When Chance caught sight of her, strung up from the pipes overhead, he tried to move toward her. Richard’s massive hand tightened and Chance just fell to his knees. “I’m so sorry, Lily.” Tears
were choking his voice, desperation so clear in those beautiful hazel eyes. At least she got to see him again.

Lilith didn’t say a word or even twitch a muscle as Cohen wrapped her ankles with rope. She just stared at Chance, focusing everything on him. She memorized every line and wished that she could take away the pained look in his deep eyes.

“What are you doing, Cohen? You’re helping him? I swear to god, I’ll choke the life out of you with my bare hands you fucking coward!”

“We don’t need his tongue, Ashcroft, if you’re itching to cut something.” Cohen’s voice was plain and flat, completely emotionless. Lilith still had trouble believing it.

“No!” Lilith screamed it with all she had. Ashcroft tilted his scarred face and considered her for a long moment.

“Let him keep his tongue for now. He may still be of use.” The curling grin
stretching his thin lips did little to relieve her. There would be a cost, a high cost, and both her and Chance would be paying the price.

Ashcroft’s thin nose sniffed at the air and his grin stretched even wider, revealing his aging, craggy teeth. “Oh yes, there is the sweet bouquet.” He slithered closer to her and her heart started tripping again. He leaned in to her neck, his wiry hair brushing against her cheek. For one terrifying moment she thought he was going to bite her.
So stereotypical. He didn’t even have fangs. Still, it was an automatic reaction that when an evil butcher leaned in against your neck, of course he was going to bite you, steal your soul. She wasn’t immune to pop culture.

Still,
he simply hovered there, his thin body inches from her. The acrid smell made her want to vomit. “Your fear for that man, it’s intoxicating.” His words were a bare hush against her ear that made every inch of her go cold. “Shall we see if he feels the same?” For a moment, her brain couldn’t comprehend what he was even asking.

In a sudden motion, Ashcroft grasped the
zipper of her track suit and tore it down. His nails made quick work of the sleeves and in an overdramatic gesture, tossed her top to the ground. The air in the basement might have been warm from the furnace, but her skin felt cold and clammy in an instant.

Lilith could hear the commotion, Chance struggling against Richard Coffee’s massive hands. She just closed her eyes, every muscle in her body trembling with fear. Nothing Chance could do would save her now. Even if he miraculously got past the mountain of a man, he would never take out Ashcroft, especially not with Cohen’s help. He was going to be forced to sit there and watch whatever they planned to do with her and there was nothing she could do about it. There was no way for her to help him. Silent tears slipped over her cheeks as Ashcroft’s bony fingers slid over her bare shoulder and up her arm.

It wasn’t a sensual caress. It was a touch of ownership. He was admiring what he intended to destroy to create whatever masterpiece he had in his head. The sharp stab of pain in her arm surprised her, but she bit back the yelp for Chance’s sake. Lilith glanced up to see Ashcroft checking the IV line that was filling with blood and now firmly implanted at the vein in her right arm.

Another jab of pain completely caught her by surprise and this time she couldn’t stop the yelp of pain. Cohen concentrated on his needle insertion on her left side, running his fingers along the tubing all the way to the bucket. “I don’t think you will get much from this angle. If her arm was down at her side…”

Ashcroft‘s rumbling growl tickled eerily along her skin, reminding her that he was still hovering near her ear. Apparently, Ashcroft didn’t appreciate being interrupted with mundane details while he was enjoying his meal of fear with heaping sides of pain and despair. If she hadn’t been completely terrified beyond all comprehension, she might have even laughed at that thought.

Reluctantly, he pulled his thin body away from her and waved a dismissive hand at Cohen. “It doesn’t matter. You may begin.” There was resentment in his voice, but Cohen chose to ignore it. He simply pulled the instrument tray closer and began studying over each instrument, trying to decide what to start with.

Lilith’s eyes flashed back to Ashcroft as he crossed the room, heading straight for Richard Coffee and Chance. No. Her heart beat against her chest like a wild animal fighting in a cage. She knew he wasn’t intending to just sit there and drink in Chance’s anger, not when he could have so much more. It wasn’t just her that was slated for torture tonight.

Cohen appeared in her peripheral vision, the light glinting off his scalpel, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Ashcroft. He was almost to Chance. He could have been there in the blink of an eye but enjoyed drawing it out, making them both suffer.

A shot rang through the basement like a sharp crack of thunder and she saw the monster stumble. Another shot and the muzzle flare gave away the shooter. Gregor’s determined face emerged from the shadows beside her as he moved closer to the furnace, hugging the far wall with a shotgun in his hands.  Some part of her wanted to scream in joy, but she knew better than any of them just how ineffective bullets were. Her father was signing his own death warrant.

“You miserable waste of skin!”
Gregor’s lips curled into a snarl of pure hatred that she’d never seen before as his finger kept squeezing the trigger.

There was
a blur of motion that made her heart sink and suddenly Gregor was suspended in the air, Ashcroft’s bony fingers clutching his throat. “You think you’re little gun will hurt me? I am divine vengeance! I was put upon this path to cleanse the world of your existence and everything you’ve ever touched, for the crimes you visited upon me!” Gregor kicked and gasped for breath as he struggled against Ashcroft’s iron grip, but it was useless. “You will watch as the flesh is stripped from your daughter. I will take everything I can from her and her betrothed until there is nothing left but empty husks. You will join your brother at my feet, as unthinking and insane as a rabid dog. Death…is too easy for you!”

Lilith’s eyes couldn’t even make sense of what happened next. One minute Ashcroft stood snarling into Gregor’s paling face as he held him suspended by the throat. The next minute, shrill screams rang in her ears making her head throb. Her glazed eyes looked around the room. Why did she feel so weird? She glanced at the bucket on the left side. Blood was definite
ly flowing at a fast pace, regardless of her arm being suspended above her. It had to be her extremely high heart rate. Fear would do that, especially utter terror. Wait. Someone was still screaming, a high, blood-curdling scream. It took a moment for her to be sure, but it definitely wasn’t her doing the screaming.

With a sudden thought, she looked over at the IV bag. She shouldn’t feel this weird.  Ashcroft was giving her blood after all to keep her alive and conscious. There was a
pattern of small bullet holes in the bottom of the nearly empty bag. Well great. If they all survived she knew who she was taking to the shooting range.

“Stay with us.” Someone was whispering in her ear. It wasn’t Chance, wasn’t Gregor. She whipped her head around and came face to face with Cohen’s almost handsome face.

“Fuck you. I’m not your science experiment! What has he done to my father? Gregor?!” Lilith fought against the manacles with everything she had, straining and pushing. She could feel the blood trickling down her arms, the fire of her wrists rubbed raw and cut. She wanted to see past Cohen, find out what the hell was going on, but he wouldn’t move!

“It was the only way. Please! I need to get this!” Cohen was reaching for her arms and all she could think of was getting him out of the damn way. Lilith gripped the chains of her manacles to help support her
and in one swift motion, lifted her bound legs off the ground and kicked out as hard as she could. Cohen fell back hard on his ass, but her moment of triumph was short lived. Her muscles gave out, leaving her struggling to regain her balance to support herself. The metal cuffs tore into her flesh and she screamed in agony as blood started to slide down her arms in thicker lines. She flailed in a blind panic, trying to get her toes on the floor beneath her, with that same shrill screaming echoing in the background.

Someone lifted her up, taking the weight off her wrists. Lilith pulled in a deep breath as the sharp pain started to ebb away. She blinked past the tears in her ey
es to see Chance cradling her in his arms. “Lilith! We have to get out of here!” Every line of his handsome face was drawn in panic, but she still didn’t understand. She kept looking around, searching for the source of the screaming. It had to be Gregor!

Cohen suddenly appeared behind Chance and Lilith screamed. “No!” She fought against Chance’s warm arms, trying to get him to turn around, but he just held her tighter.

“Dammit, Lily! Stop! You need to stay still!”

“No, Cohen! Don’t you fucking touch him! I swear to god, I’ll slit your damn throat myself if you even…”