House of Cards (24 page)

Every immortal in the Hall ignored her. The Master was staring hard at the chess board, trying to determine his next move. Apparently, Clara positioned a piece that had him completely stumped. Sherry began to get frantic until she saw Peter look up from his book and reply, “Why, Lucas’s punishment, of course.”

It was then that Sherry realized Gavin wasn’t in the room. And she hadn’t seen Lucas all evening. She’d assumed he’d overslept, or was out feeding, but what if . . .

No. It couldn’t be. But what if by punishment they meant—God, it made her blood run cold. Exactly how did you torture a vampire?

“I still think you should reprimand the mortal as well, Master,” said Vasha. She was off in a corner, sulking. “Or at least make her watch while Lucas is given his due.”

“Now, Vasha sweetheart, Lucas says she didn’t know anything about it, and I believe him. After all, she’s not very intelligent, is she? She probably wouldn’t have been able to keep the plan a secret as well as he, and he knew that. That’s why he didn’t tell her.”

Sherry didn’t care enough to argue with the ancient leader over her intelligence, or perceived lack thereof. She didn’t care that he was also wrong about the reasons why Lucas didn’t tell her his plan. All she cared about was what they were doing to him, and whether there was any way for her to stop it.

“Besides, little Sherry isn’t really to blame for Lucas’s wicked actions, is she?” continued the Master, looking benevolently at her. “After all, he’s been trying to escape from our happy family ever since I can remember. Poor misled boy. A little discipline and he’ll be right as rain, just like always.”

Just like always? This wasn’t the first time they’d tortured him? He never said anything to her about that. Sherry began to feel lightheaded.

“I don’t know, Master,” said Adrian, who was poring over several books spread out on the table. “He’s always fine . . . until the next time.”

“Well, perhaps there won’t be a ‘next time,’ if all goes well. I asked Gavin to be very rigorous with his punishment. Hopefully Lucas will learn his lesson. And Gavin is so
good
at that sort of thing, almost as good as Thomas was. What wonderful schoolteachers they both would have made. No—I’m sure this particular reprimand will set him on the right path. Children do need discipline, after all,” he said cheerfully.

Words seemed to stick in Sherry’s throat. “But . . . Clara!” She looked desperately to her former ally, hoping to see some sign of empathy, of willingness to help.

“I’m sorry, dearie,” Clara replied, carefully deciding where to place her knight. “But rules are rules.” Her motivation to assist Sherry was decidedly lacking. Apparently, it depended upon compliance with some ridiculous vampire code of ethics.

Sherry threw up her hands in frustration. “Well, if you won’t help him, then I will!”

In a fraction of a second Adrian was Sherry’s side, his hand gripping her arm painfully, his eyes on the Master.

“Let her go, my boy. She won’t be able to stop Gavin. She won’t even be able to get inside the room. But if it comforts her to hear her lover’s screams, by all means . . .”

Sherry stared with burning, hate-filled eyes at the Master. “Why you, you—” Just then another long, agonized scream came from down the hall, and Sherry ran out of the room before she could finish the sentence. She wasn’t even sure what she would have said.

***

Of course, the Master was right: she wasn’t able to get in. As far as she could tell, Lucas and Gavin were in the entranceway just in front of the vampires’ quarters. Now she remembered how, at first, she’d been unnerved by the chains and manacles hanging there. She’d assumed they were just an old part of the tombs themselves. Now she saw how silly and naïve a belief that was. The Master had them placed there, of course. That was probably where they kept the human victims they dragged down here, like the ones Vasha fed on when she’d refused to leave her room.

Sherry banged on the door. She begged Gavin to let her in. She pleaded with him, bribed him, offered to sleep with him. She screamed at him and threatened him until she was hoarse. She didn’t care if he retaliated against her later. She even volunteered to take Lucas’s place. Anything to make Gavin stop.

But he didn’t. And Lucas didn’t reply to her mournful cries either. Whether this was because he was unable, or because Gavin had instructed him not to, it was hard to say. By the time Sherry considered going back to the Master and imploring him to be merciful, or at least kill her instead of torturing Lucas, she’d grown too weary to think anymore. Hours passed. Eventually, she fell fast asleep outside the chamber door.

She awoke on the chaise in the drawing room. It was the same one she’d sat up in all those months ago and realized she was in Hell. This time, she didn’t go to the windows to see if she was still underground. She went straight to the door that led to the torture chamber. The screaming had stopped. She feared for the worst.

Naturally, it wouldn’t budge an inch. Goddamn those evil bastards! How dare they do this—not only to an innocent person, but someone as loving and kind as Lucas! How
dare
they! She pulled and pulled at the metal handle until she heard the Master’s voice from inside. She nearly fell back on the floor with surprise. He must have taken Gavin’s place, unless . . . Gavin was still in there? Holy Christ—exactly how long had she been asleep?

“How are you then, my boy?”

Sherry could only hear Lucas’s labored breathing. Was he too weak, or in too much pain, to even respond? White-hot anger towards the Master flared up inside of her.

“All this must have been difficult for you. It was difficult for me too, as you can imagine.”

Difficult for
him
? How was that possible? He wasn’t the one who’d been tortured.

“. . . necessary though, I’m afraid. You’ve always been so willful, Lucas. So difficult to control. I thought it might pass, after a few decades, but you’re still the same. Still my wild, reckless boy.” Sherry thought she could hear a smile in the Master’s voice. His tone was warm, almost affectionate.

“You understand, don’t you? Why I had to do this? I considered another type of punishment—you know, the type I was forced to give when you first came to us.”

The family he’d murdered in front of Lucas. The one that looked so much like his own.

“. . . but in the end, I felt this was sufficient. I know you feel stifled in the House, sometimes. But you have more freedom than millions of mortals the world over. To never grow old, or ill, or die. To enjoy the supreme pleasure of human blood, night after night. To have powers of which others can merely dream. A little loyalty to your maker isn’t too much to ask in return for all that, now, is it?”

A choked gurgle came from deep within Lucas’s throat. My God, Sherry thought, what did Gavin
do
to him? She was almost afraid to look at her beloved’s face, if she ever got the chance again.

“But I think it’s time your punishment was over. I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson by now. You won’t be making any other disobedient plans, will you, Lucas? And just to show there are no hard feelings between us, I’ve brought you a delicious, healing meal.”

There was a creaking metal sound towards the back of the torture chamber, then the clang of an iron door closing. Sherry heard muffled whimpering, and a few scuffling footsteps.

“Isn’t she lovely?” the Master purred. “So young and sweet. She’s Swedish, I believe, visiting Paris on vacation. See? You can tell by the fair hair and those big blue eyes. Just a vision, isn’t she?” Sherry heard the whimpering turn into muted sobs. It sounded like she was crying into some sort of fabric—there must be a gag around her mouth. How long had she been held prisoner here? And how did the vampires manage to sneak in victims and hold them captive without her knowing? This one had probably been brought in the same way Sherry had, unconscious and bleeding. The thick stone and bone walls muted the sound of her pitiful cries across the House. It was awful . . . if only Sherry had heard. If only she had
known
, perhaps there was something she could have done to help this girl, to rescue her. Unlikely, perhaps, but not impossible.

“As it was, I saved you something pretty and fresh. I knew you’d be starving after your punishment.” More scuffling sounds. The Master must be dragging her, or forcing her closer to Lucas. Sherry heard the scraping and clicking of metal—was the elder immortal freeing Lucas from some sort of fetters? Although what cuffs and chains could contain a vampire for very long she could not imagine.

The sobbing was getting louder, still muffled by the gag. But clearly, the girl was in more and more distress as the conversation wore on. There was no doubt in Sherry’s mind that she was fluent in English. It was awful. To be faced with such horror, to know what was in store for you. Sherry shuddered, and felt a twinge of guilt because she was thankful that fate was not hers. Yet.

“Thomas tore off most of her clothing, I’m afraid, when he was still with us. I can remove the rest if you prefer. If you seek another type of satisfaction before you feed.” Panicked squealing now arose from the girl, and Sherry felt a sour taste rising up in her throat. Lucas wouldn’t. Not in a million years.

“Get out.” It was a whisper from the other side of the door.

“What was that, son?” It was a rhetorical question. There was no way the Master hadn’t heard him.

“Just get out. Leave me be.”

“Very well, if you insist. But you
will
have fed by the time one of us returns to collect the body. You know what her fate will be if you do not. Much more unpleasant than the swift one you will deliver.” The girl’s body was racked with sobs at this point. How could the Master be so cruel?

“It’s just as well you’re so enamored of that other mortal. Thomas had his way with this one several times before . . . well, at least her beauty did not go to waste. I’ll leave you to your meal, then. Goodnight, dear boy.”

Realizing that the Master was coming out of the room, Sherry fled all the way down the hall to her suite and locked the entrance behind her. Of course, every vampire in the House was capable of getting in anyway. But she still slid the bar across the door, shaking and sobbing until all her strength was gone.

***

What a terrible choice, thought Sherry, staring despondently at her bed. She hadn’t moved from behind the door for almost an hour. And what a horrible choice for Lucas to have to make. Either feed on the girl and kill her quickly, or know that the others would torture and kill her slowly. She’d thought of going back, of offering Lucas some of her own blood instead, but what was the use? They were going to murder that poor tourist regardless—it couldn’t be prevented. Might as well be Lucas who did it. He was the kindest and gentlest, after all.

But she had to go and see him. She had to offer support, or whatever comfort she was capable of giving. Sherry braced herself for the worst. Burns. They’d probably burned him. He likely had horrid scars all over. No matter, she thought as she walked down the hall, warm scarf wrapped around her throat. She’d love him no matter what. Either the scars would heal completely, or they wouldn’t. She’d think he was beautiful anyway. She’d kiss each and every one of them, over and over, until all his pain was gone. After that, she’d—

He was still there. The Master was still outside the entrance to the torture chamber, sitting on that damn chaise, reading a book. Utterly nonchalant, as if nothing had happened! The candles lit in the enormous chandelier were burning quite low. It must be near dawn now, less than two hours left. The other vampires would be in their rooms. Including Lucas. But she’d have to go through the drawing room to find him, to knock on the heavily sealed door that led to the immortals’ quarters.

She stared at the Master as she entered, not smiling. It was terrifying to be in the same room with him, alone, even though he was just quietly reading, and seemed so friendly.

“Ah, there you are, Sherry. Good. I’ve been waiting quite a while now.”

“Waiting? What are you waiting for?”

“Well, frankly my dear, I was waiting for you.”

An icy chill ran down her spine and all the way up her neck, despite the bulky scarf.

“You . . . you wanted to talk to me?”

He shut the book with a dull, final sound. For some reason, that frightened her more than anything else.

“No dear. Not talk. I believe the time for talking has . . . passed.”

Oh God, no. Not now. It couldn’t be. It was too soon. It was so unfair.

“What did I do wrong?” she blurted out. “I’m not at fault for—for Lucas—I didn’t even know!” She gestured to the vampires’ rooms beyond the parlor. “And I’ve been the best tarot reader you’ve ever seen. My predictions have been completely accurate! Every single one of them!”

“Ah, but you see, that’s just it, my dear. They’ve been a bit
too
accurate. Every. Single. One.” He looked at her hard, waiting for her to understand.

And suddenly, she did. Her reading for Lucas. The Moon—transformation and change. Female intuition and psychic gifts. And she was The Queen of Swords—the strong and invincible woman who would help Lucas out of his misery. Judgment. The triumph over a long-held enemy.

The readings for the Master. Always the same. The Seven of Swords—treachery, deception. The Five of Pentacles—change your present course of action, or something dearly valued will be lost. And finally, The Tower—eventual downfall and destruction. All pointing towards a loss of power and control. The very thing the Master feared.

He feared . . .

“Death,” she said. “You think that I mean to kill you?”

“You are not the only one with powerful gifts of the mind, my child. I have been experiencing very strong, troubling dreams that you would come for a long time now. The true reason I kept you here was because Lucas seemed so happy for your company. It is not often I see him willing to cooperate with the House’s rules, which he did for your sake. But if you mean to harm me, or to take him away . . .”

He set the book aside and stood up, seemingly in one movement. Instinctively, she backed away, nearer to the other side of the room. She now stood in front of the marble fireplace.

“Wait—please.” This couldn’t be happening. How many times had that thought run through her head since she’d been kidnapped? “I can explain.” He took a few steps forward, and she circled around, so that she was now facing the fireplace. “My predictions are dependent upon the actions of the questioner. If you change your actions, the outcome changes too. For instance, if you . . . maybe treated Lucas differently, or . . . us mortals differently, maybe he wouldn’t want to leave. The future can always change. You can be the one to change it, if you really wish to.”

The Master shook his head and stepped even closer. “I have no wish to change what has worked splendidly for so long, my dear. And why should I have to? My rules are very fair. Lucas is the only one who seems to have such trouble following them. But I think ending your life will take care of that. Perhaps once and for all.” He kept walking towards her as if he were on a pleasant evening stroll in Montmartre.