Page 59 of Missing Piece (Neon Scars #2)

A dam wrapped his arms around himself, trying to ward off the chill. The silence of the building pressed in around him, thick and heavy. He could have sworn he heard something, but when he spun around, there was nothing there. Just shadows, playing tricks on his eyes.

The main room was eerily still. Empty bottles littered the floor, debris, and bits of discarded clothes all caught the moonlight filtering through the broken windows.

The place looked different than it had during high school parties—darker, more menacing, though maybe that was just the red streak across the concrete.

Following it was normally the last thing he’d want to do.

If I were watching my own actions in a horror film, I’d be yelling at the screen.

But Vincent was here somewhere, and if the trail was anything to go by, so was Richard.

It didn’t take long for Adam to notice the body on the ground.

Robert lay sprawled in the center of the room, limbs at unnatural angles. His eyes stared up at nothing, vacant and dull. Dark liquid pooled beneath him, staining the concrete floor a sickening crimson .

Adam’s breath caught in his throat. He crept closer, each step echoing in the silence. It wasn’t until he was standing over the body that he saw the full extent of the damage. Robert’s throat was a mangled mess, torn open in a way that spoke of a brutal, frenzied attack.

He staggered back, bile rising in his throat.

Robert, for all his faults, had been there for him in those first excruciating days of sobriety.

He’d sat beside Adam in meetings, bringing him coffee and snacks, urging him to work a program Adam didn’t believe in with gruff, ineloquent words.

Robert had helped him count those first impossible days.

He didn’t deserve this. The familiar ache of guilt twisted in his chest. Another person hurt because of me. Because I couldn’t just stay away.

A cold hand settled on Adam’s shoulder. He whirled around, every muscle in his body coiled tight as his hand reached for the knife haphazardly stuffed in his back pocket.

“Vincent?”

Relief washed over him as he recognized the familiar silhouette. Vincent pulled him close.

“You’re alright,” Vincent breathed into his hair. “Thank God.”

Adam clung to him, the scent of Vincent’s cologne a strange comfort amidst the metallic reek around them.

He buried his face in Vincent’s neck, letting the tension drain from his limbs.

The hug tightened, becoming an almost painful constriction.

Adam shifted uncomfortably, trying to pull back. Vincent’s grip only intensified.

“Vincent, you’re hurting me.”

There was a beat of silence, then Vincent’s hands trembled against Adam’s back—a barely perceptible shake before his hold tightened further.

His head tilted, the movement jerky and unnatural.

Adam saw a flash of fangs, eyes black in the moonlight as his face twitched, spasming in response to something unseen.

“Vincent? What’s wrong?”

“Run,” Vincent’s voice was strained, a tortured rasp even as his grip tightened further. A sharp intake of breath, as if he were fighting for each word. “Adam, you need to run.”

Before Adam could react, a shadow detached itself from the darkness. Richard sauntered into view, his eyes gleaming with malevolent amusement.

“Now, now, Vincent,” Richard chided. “We talked about this. Stop fightin’ me and do what I said.” He looked at Adam, austere and calculating. “Bring him to me.”

“Vincent, what the hell?” Adam thrashed against Vincent’s grip, though he knew what was happening. It was what I was afraid would happen if Vincent went after Richard alone. “Let me go!”

Vincent didn’t even look at him. He just kept Adam in his suffocating embrace, lifting him off the ground just enough to drag him closer to Richard with an unnerving silence.

Adam forced himself to stop fighting, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth, the air making them ache as he did.

I need to think, to find a way snap Vincent free.

Tiring myself by trying to grapple a vampire won’t work.

Vincent spun Adam around to face Richard. Adam came face-to-face with predatory eyes, and all his terror condensed into a single, defiant act.

He spat.

The glob of saliva landed squarely on Richard’s cheek. For a moment, there was absolute silence. Then Richard laughed, a chilling, humorless sound.

“Spirited,” he mused, wiping his cheek with a silk handkerchief. “Your pet still has some fight in him, huh? Tie his hands.”

“Keep your eyes forward,” Vincent growled, the words low and guttural. Adam winced as rough hands yanked his arms behind his back. He tried to twist around, but trembling fingers forced his head forward again.

“Eyes front,” he snarled, though his voice cracked slightly. “Now.”

Richard circled Adam, like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Unremarkable, isn’t he?” Richard mused, more to himself than to Vincent. “I can’t imagine what you see in him.” He leaned closer to Adam, his stare sharp and dissecting. “You know, Robert told me about your little…demons.”

Adam glared at Richard as Vincent jerkily began to bind his wrists with shaking hands.

“Perhaps addiction is the key,” Richard continued, his voice laced with mocking amusement. “It certainly turned me into a fine specimen, wouldn’t you say?”

Vincent’s hands shook as he knotted the rope, and when he shoved Adam forward, there was a deliberate looseness to the bonds.

Adam stumbled, catching himself just enough to keep from falling flat on his face.

He tested the restraints—tight enough to look convincing, but with just enough give.

The handle of the knife was still nestled in his back pocket.

Vincent had somehow managed to work around it entirely.

There’s no way he didn’t notice that.

Adam tried to keep his face stoic as it dawned on him that some part of Vincent was in control. Maybe not fully, but just enough. I need more time .

“Fine isn’t the word I would use to describe you,” Adam grumbled, testing the restraints and summoning every ounce of defiant asshole he could. “So what are we doing here? Are you going to do a full villain speech now? Because I don’t give a fuck.”

Richard backhanded Adam, a swift, stinging blow that snapped his head to the side.

“How rude,” he tutted, though his tone held a hint of amusement.

“Such a pity. But don’t worry, pet . I think with the right trainin’, you’d be a wonderful addition to our little group.

” He turned to Vincent with a gleam in his eyes.

“Tell me, old friend, would you like that? To have him join us?”

Vincent remained silent, staring at some point beyond Richard’s shoulder. The muscle in his jaw flexed and his cheek twitched.

Richard scowled, his amusement fading. He reached out, his touch feather-light as he tilted Vincent’s chin towards him, forcing their eyes to meet. “Answer me, Vincent. Do you want him turned?”

A pause that stretched too long before a single word came out. Strangled and hesitant. “No.”

He’s still in there, he’s fighting it, Adam told himself.

“No?” Richard echoed, his eyebrows rising in mock surprise. “And why is that? He’s not good enough for you? Or perhaps…you don’t want to see him changed? Is that it? Do you think your pathetic little pet is too good for the fate you bestowed on me?”

When Vincent didn’t answer, irritation flashed across Richard’s face. “Answer me. Is this junkie too good to be one of us? Or do you not want to be attached to him forever? We can just snap his neck now and be done with it. You tell me what to do.”

Adam stole a glance back at Vincent as his silence stretched on.

His stare was intensely focused on the ground, his brow furrowed and beaded with sweat, mouth slightly open as though he were fighting the urge to say anything at all.

Vincent was fighting whatever hold Richard had on him. He needs more time.

Adam took a step closer to Richard, ignoring the way Vincent’s head snapped up, alarm widening his features.

“Why are you so obsessed with him?” Adam demanded, his voice raspy with sudden, reckless anger as he stepped closer to Richard, placing himself firmly between the two vampires.

“Are you pissed at him for saving your life? Are you mad he didn’t stick around to fuck you?

What is it? Because this shit with your little monster cult is bullshit and you know it.

He doesn’t want you, and he never will, so get the fuck out of our town! ”

He saw the exact moment Richard’s carefully constructed composure cracked. The vampire’s eyes narrowed and he bared his fangs a split second before his hand shot out and grabbed Adam’s hair at the roots.

“You know,” Richard breathed, his voice dangerously quiet, “I could end this right now. I can rip those annoying vocal chords from your throat with my bare hands.” He leaned closer, his breath on Adam’s ear.

“Imagine that. Vincent forced to watch as you bleed out, not even deemed worthy of a feedin’. How’s that for revenge, pet?”

Adam bit into his lip to contain a cry of pain as his scalp felt on the verge of tearing. Richard wasn’t bluffing. He spit at Richard again. “Get fucked.”

Much to his surprise, Richard released him with a sigh, stepping back to once again wipe the spit from his face. The rage was gone, replaced by an unsettling calm.

“Interesting,” Richard murmured, more to himself than to Adam. “A quick death would be far too easy. Too…mundane. I have somethin’ far more fun in mind now. Thank you for the suggestion.”

Keep him talking. We’ve seen this kind of guy before. Full of himself, wanting people to sympathize with a nonexistent struggle. I need to buy more time and get Vincent away from him.