Page 92 of Caller of Crows

Sven's throat squeezed painfully. "What does that mean?" he whispered.

Nephariel took a step closer, and Sven struggled to get up, his body shivering with cold and panic both. He had to fight this guy off.

His legs still weren't cooperating, though, and he knew that even if he got up, he wouldn't be able to move fast. He was still drugged from the injection that had knocked him out.

"Please," Nephariel said with false sympathy. "There's no need to struggle. It's not like you can get away."

His words sent ice running through Sven's veins. Fuck. This guy was really going to bite him. Sven's eyes widened as he pressed his back flat against the cold wall behind him. "Altair is going to kill you," he warned.

Nephariel laughed. "What? You think I'm scared of him?" He inched closer. "I'll let you in on a little secret. The money you'll make me is one reason I wanted you, the other is that Iknowit'll piss my brother off to no end if I defile his property."

"You're a sick fuck," Sven spat, anger burning through the icy grip of fear.

The vampire chuckled and closed the distance between them at last, pinning Sven to the wall behind him with one hand pressed firmly on Sven's chest. He lowered his face until they were almost nose to nose, then trailed his tongue over Sven's throat. Sven squirmed, struggling in vain to get free. It was like trying to move a solid block of steel.

He couldn't fight him, couldn't avoid him, couldn't defend himself, and nothing he said could make a difference. All he could do now was brace for the bite to come.

The second Nephariel pierced his throat with his fangs, Sven felt like dying. This wasn't anything like when Altair bit him. There was no arousal, no connection, only pain and fear as Nephariel held him and tore into his throat.

It was hell.

Nephariel drank deeply, moaning softly against Sven's skin.

Sven's breath caught in his throat. God. Every nerve in his body screamed, every muscle cramping as he hung from the vampire's hold. Nausea swirled in his stomach, rising up until it choked him. Then his limbs went numb.

Fuck.

Sven shivered, trying desperately to stay conscious. No matter how hard he tried, though, darkness seeped in around the edges of his vision and every attempt to fight it only made the shadows spread until he lost control completely and slipped into the nothingness.

ChapterTwenty-Five

"Wake up."

Sven stirred, rolling over as the voice reached him, pushing through the haze of sleep. Something warm nudged his shoulder. Once, then again.

With a groan, he rolled onto his back and blinked his eyes open. Immediately, memories assaulted him.

Nephariel biting him.

Passing out.

Dirt and stone underneath his fingers.

Panic shot through him, making his breath stutter, and then he was scrambling backward across the ground, as far away from the looming figure above him as possible, hitting his back against the opposite wall. His heart thrummed, so loud he could barely hear anything else.

But the creature inside the room with him was not a vampire. It took his exhausted mind a few moments to come to that conclusion, but the young man beside him looked much too weak, far too skinny, and way too kind to be a vampire.

"Hey," the other captive said softly, raising his hands like he wanted to placate a wild animal. He looked about Sven's age. Brown hair, brown eyes, thin face. He was pale and clearly malnourished, but something about the earnestness of his expression gave Sven pause. "Relax," he said, taking a careful step closer to where Sven had his back pressed against the wall. His voice sounded rough, like he didn't use it often. Or maybe like he'd been screaming…

Sven shuddered.

What was going on in this place?

"I'm Rhyme."

"Rhyme?" Sven asked, still trying to regain his bearings.

"Yeah." Rhyme smiled weakly. "My mother was Melody," he said as if he needed to explain himself.