Page 44 of Blood Ties (City of Blood #1)
Bash
KNOCK. KNOCK.
“Come in,” I call out and the door swings open. My cousin Lucian stands there, looking severe, as usual. “What is it?” I sit up straighter in my chair and every face turns in his direction.
“Re Marcus has requested you come to his office in an hour. He has something to share with you.”
“Is it about Elina?”
He looks at me full of disdain and turns to leave.
“9 o’clock Sebastien. Don’t be late.” His voice is rife with loathing.
“What do you think he wants?” Jack asks when we are alone again. Sarah and Ethan are both watching me now.
“I’m not sure. Maybe he has Talia? He said he would call for me when he got her. Maybe he has news? I’m not sure.”
“Do we need to come with you?” Sarah asks from her spot on the sofa.
“No, not this time. You can walk over with me though, all of you, you need to feed anyway.”
“What’s with that guy?” Sarah says, while we walk.
“Who? Lucian?” I give her a sidelong glance.
“Yes, he seems like a grade-A asshole. What’s his deal?”
“Lucian is my cousin, he’s a Malvani. He’s actually my mother’s cousin.
He’s been a trusted member of the court for Marcus for almost 700 years…
” I try to explain the complicated relationships—it’s as frustrating to me as it is to him.
“He’s older than me but not a direct threat to Marcus’s seat.
When Marcus took Ville de Sang, Lucian was…
slighted. Marcus uses Lucian as his executioner and enforcer, but passed him over for any meaningful position within the court.
He’s been pretty pissed about it for a long time.
There is a lot of bad blood between us.”
Walking into the cattedrale a half hour later, my family following me, we go to the blood bar, finding warm blood on tap.
Jack doesn’t usually drink this way, but right now, we need to present a united front to the court—my sirelings and friends at my back.
There is a power struggle happening with Marcus, and I need to show the court that I am as strong as I have always been.
Sarah gets us all tumblers full of warm blood and we sit at a table in the middle of the room. Others who are seated around watch us interestedly, curiosity warring with loyalty to Marcus. There isn’t any reason for it, Marcus and I are fine.
I may be vulnerable right now, but I’m still going to Re one day and I will be respected.
Walking into Marcus’s office right at 9, I am greeted by the seated man looking very like the cat who ate the canary, a small knowing smirk on his face. Mother sits in the corner exuding pleasure.
“Uncle,” I greet him, inclining my head respectfully. “Any news? You two look suspicious today.”
“Nipote.” He reaches out and grasps my hands in greeting.
“I do. Talia is below. She was brought in this morning before sunrise. Hopefully we will get a lead on Elina tonight. I was hoping you would like to visit her with me. I’m certain it will be fun attempting to get some answers from her.
” The raw, exposed excitement in his face while discussing torturing someone who has been in his court for a century gives me pause.
Is it anger toward her for her potential part in this plot or is it bloodlust, plain and simple?
“Yes, of course I will come down. Has she said anything yet?”
“Lucian has been with her tonight but we haven’t heard anything yet.” My mother chimes in from her seat.
If Lucian is doing the interrogation, it is going to be difficult for her. Lucian and I may not get along as much in the last few decades, but he is by far the most ruthless investigator we have and is completely devoted to Marcus.
Marcus leads the way to the interrogation room below the altar of the church.
It's not a large space, but large enough to allow Marcus, mother, and I to spread out around the wide, raised stone table on which Talia is stretched out, Lucian standing at her side. The walls and floor are also stone, the room looking as though it has been in this place since the cattedrale was built, maybe longer. Large lighted torches line the interior, there doesn’t seem to be any electricity.
There are puddles of blood gathered around the base of the stones below Talia.
Lucian has already started working on her, it seems. My cousin has pulled a steel table alongside himself, on which lay various metal tools, knives, and pliers.
They are all covered in wet blood, slowly dripping onto the floor.
I’ve known Talia for a hundred years, and yet, looking upon her in this place, knowing she had a hand in Elina’s kidnapping, I feel nothing. No remorse. No concern.
“Talia,” Marcus says, drawing her name out long and sensuously, like a lover. “It appears you have gotten yourself into quite the predicament.” Marcus’s face turns to a sneer of disgust as he scents the air and smells the blood. It’s all a game meant to confuse her.
“Re Marcus, please, why am I here? Please. Please.” She sobs to him, fear and panic increasing her respirations, nostrils flaring and eyes widened almost comically. Her entire body pleading with Marcus to help her.
“Dear Talia, I believe you know why you are here. Don’t you?” She visibly flinches at the malice in his tone. “I think you do. Why don’t you save us more of this unpleasantness and tell us what we want to know.”
He doesn’t specify what we are looking for.
That’s his way. He won’t ask her outright for information about Elina’s kidnapping yet, there is a chance she will reveal more of her hand than she plans to, and provide Marcus with information he wasn’t even looking for.
While I watch quietly, Lucian, ever the executioner, picks up a silver dagger from the table and quickly, effectively, drives it into her exposed sternum.
It won’t extinguish her but a silver dagger to the heart will make her wish it did.
The scream that erupts from Talia shatters the quiet of the room.
Blood surges around the edges of the knife as she screams and screams, thrashing in a futile attempt to escape the blade.
As quickly as he plunged it through her bone and heart, he pulls it out.
The blood spurts, then stops as her body knits back together, her healing kicking in.
It’s why torturing vampires is so effective—the pain lingers long after the wounds heal, and he can wound her over and over, with no reprieve, until she breaks.
“Marcus.” Sobbing, she attempts to catch her breath. “Marcus, please. Re, Re, what do you want? What have I done?”
“You tell us what you did, you traitor!” My mother screams from her spot on the other side of the space. Marcus gives a small wave of his hand, an order to my mother to calm down.
“I…” Her voice breaks. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t!”
This time, Lucian draws a vile of blood from his pocket and dribbles it kindly across her lips.
She gasps in surprise before opening her mouth fully.
It will heal her quicker, ease her pain.
I watch, silent, to gauge what he intends to do.
Her fangs descend, desperate to feed, the need for blood overriding everything else.
Her face becomes the face of a bloodthirsty monster while she tries to capture as much blood as possible.
Lucian grabs her chin, holding her in place. In a strike as fast as a cobra, he discards the vial and grabs the pliers. Grabbing hold of one her fangs, he yanks it directly from her mouth, blood beginning to pour down her chin. Her scream is visceral, wet, primal. She whimpers and sobs.
Fang removal is incredibly painful, but more than that, it's removing something that is intrinsically vampire. Talia can’t feed without fangs.
Fang removal is permanent—it’s a torture reserved for traitors of the vampire race, and a surprising choice for the torture relating to a missing human.
Eyeing Marcus, I wonder how far he has authorized this to go.
I can’t help but wonder if this is a show specifically for me, or if he knows something he isn’t sharing.
“Re, I’ve been beside you for a hundred years.
” Her breath hitches before she adds, “I love you.” Blood continues to pour from her mouth, it will heal but it will take a little longer.
It is already beginning to slow. Marcus approaches the table and extends a hand.
Gently, so gently, he runs his fingers down the side of her face.
She leans into the touch, whimpering softly.
He roughly grabs her cheeks. “Then tell us what you did and this will all end.” I am again struck by the violence and indifference in his tone, his stance.
“I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry. Re Marcus, I don’t know what they want. They just wanted the girl.” Finally, something.
Stepping forward, I walk over to the table and peer down at her. “Who, Talia? Who wanted her?”
Trembling, she says quietly, “L’Empire des Ombres Nocturnes, I think. They were French. I’m sorry. She doesn’t matter! She’s just a human!” Talia tells us, frantically, sounding as though she is trying to convince us of what she is already convinced of.
Marcus growls loudly and grabs her neck, squeezing mercilessly.
“She may be a human, Talia, but the Ombres Nocturnes are our enemies and you were plotting against this kingdom with them.” He spits at her.
“You are a traitor to me.” With that, he turns, walking out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“You have made a grave mistake. Enjoy the fruits of that decision.” I pause leaning over her for a moment, her eyes searching for a hint of sympathy where she will find none. I weigh the options on the metal table before picking up a shining knife.
“See, the thing is, Talia, you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.
I will find her and she will rise to power beside me.
” She flinches at my words. “Unfortunately, you picked the wrong side.” I jam the knife into the junction of her neck and shoulder, knowing the tip of the knife has sunk into her heart, blood pooling in her collarbone.
Leaving through the door following Marcus, mother behind me, I hear Talia start screaming before the door closes, silence in its wake.
Storming into Marcus’s office, I throw myself into a chair in front of his desk and rub my hands over my face.
“Fuck!” I yell. “What the fuck are we going to do now? Besides the fact that the Shadows have Elina, there are fucking Shadows in the city, infiltrating the court. You can’t extinguish her yet, we need to know who she met, where, and if she knows where they are.
” I am so utterly furious that I can hardly breathe.
“We will find her, Bash. Now, we have a starting point, we have to find this nest of Frenchmen and flush them out. We will destroy them all. Lucian will extract any additional information. You may go.” I am dismissed.
My world has completely fallen apart, my family is being threatened, we are potentially on the verge of war with the Devereaux, and I am being dismissed.
“Uncle,” I start, my voice tight, “you will let me know once you know any sliver of information. I will hunt them myself.” I take my leave, quickly. I need to report back to my family so we can decide our next steps. War may be at our doorstep and Elina will not be the first casualty.