Caged Page 12

  “Then you must know why we’re here.”

  Further moments of quiet preceded her second nod. “That doesn’t mean I understand it.” For the first time a small crack showed in her tough exterior as her irises flared to a rich gold. “There can be no reasoning for this … abomination.”

  “Abomin—” I blew out a breath. “What abomination?”

  “Behave, on occasion, as animals … and they believe that earns them the right to treat us like animals.” The fire continued to burn in her steady stare.

  “Who?” I rubbed at my brow like I could iron out the creases that enhanced my headache. “Why? How?”

  “Think about it, wolf. Those upstairs do not need to kill us. As nature insists, we do a fine job of that, ourselves.”

  What the hell does that mean? “I … don’t understand.”

  “You see a vampire, what happens?” Her eyes seemed to plead with me for comprehension, as though willing me to grasp her meaning without further words. “You attack, no?”

  “I’d never met one until”—when?—“yesterday. And he attacked me. My retaliation was self-defence.”

  “Instinctual dislike and distrust works both ways, though, wouldn’t you agree?”

  I shrugged—lack of experience meant I didn’t have an answer.

  “What about the one over there?” Her eyes flitted to the right, toward the one beyond Lauren’s cage. “What do you feel when you look at him?”

  I followed her stare until my own hit the fugly male in his cell. My eyes narrowed, the hairs across my neck bristled, and a low rumble began in my chest. I told myself his earlier threats held responsibility for my reaction and tore myself away to look back at the shifter.

  A small smile curved her lips, like I’d given her confirmation, but only for a split second before her golden orbs hardened again. “Now imagine being face-to-face with that level of natural animosity. Even confronted by me, you feel somewhat repulsed, yes? Would you be so happy to communicate if forced to be nearer?” I went to shrug but stopped as she said, “I think not, wolf. Just as I have no inclination to be closer to you.” Like a water current travelling beneath her surface flesh, her body rippled, and tightness possessed her face. “What they’re feeding us here is barely suitable for consumption. Few have managed to eat. We are all hungry—beyond hungry. Even the vampires here have not been fed. Those who have eaten conquered their own meals.” Her hands lifted, and pale fingers encompassed the bars before her as her face came to rest between one of the gaps. “Bring two starving, opposing supernatural races together, and the outcome can only go one way.”

  Two go up. Only one ever comes back down.

  My pulse picked its tempo back up again. “But … why? What can they get out of it?” Apart from to reduce the supernatural population?

  “Do you really need me to spell this out for you, wolf?”

  Apparently so. “Tell me.”

  A few beats passed before she responded. “They’re pitting us.”

  “They …” I frowned, rubbing at the dangerously fast thud of my pulse beneath my ear. “Oh, Jesus.”

  She nodded.

  I stared hard at her as the solidity of her form wavered and altered—watched her spin away from me to stalk into the gloom as a cat. My mind caught up, took my breaths along on a ride that could have given the rapids a run for their money.

  “They’re making us fight.” My panicked body turned to Lauren. “But … why?”

  16

  Lauren provided no further answers, and my rationality kicked in, demanding I cut her some slack. With the shifter’s incommunicado language barrier preventing conversation—I’d never been too good at translating meows’—I skulked to the rear of my cage to try and figure some stuff out on my own.

  At the same time, I needed to stem the too-loud timpani speed of my heartbeat. Regulating my breathing would have help with that, too, I guessed.

  The scratchy surface of the wall dug into my shoulder blades as I leaned back against it and prodded my head where it had met with the pavement. A deep chill emanated through my body, but whether the cool concrete beneath my butt caused it, I couldn’t be sure.

  I’d spent as much of my life with Kyle as I had my own family—Kyle was kin, dammit, no more, no less—and far too much time had passed since his summoning.

  Face tipped up, I closed my eyes, taking slow breaths in and out. My bare toes curled against the coarse floor. Too many thoughts, scenarios, emotions tore through me, hindering my self-calming efforts—as did my hands that clenched and unclenched in response where they hung over my drawn up knees.

  I could no longer bring myself to look at the double doors. Fear that it might not be Kyle who returned constricted my chest—like a part of me would be torn away with him should he come to a bad end.

  Another flex and un-flex of my fingers drew the tendons taut through my forearms. I blew out a slow exhale, my nostrils flaring wide with the following inhalation.

  As much as I believed in Kyle’s abilities concerning self-preservation, the strength of the vampire in the Witchurch gulley still burned hot. The idea Kyle didn’t match me for power came not from stubborn pride, but from fact. Nobody in the pack could beat me in a one-on-one—probably not even Dad since he’d hit his fifties—so I knew without doubt, Kyle would offer little problem to the vampire.

  Yet, his opponent hadn’t returned either.

  Vampires held the advantage in speed, pure power, and an unnatural focus—from what I’d seen of them, anyway. Hunger would, undoubtedly, lend the beings determination, also. Adrenaline could be added into the mix, but, would an absent heartbeat allow its production? Surely with no pump, the hormone would be unable to surge through the vampire’s bloodstream.

  Unlike in werewolves.

  Could the force that powered us in times of need be our upper hand against them?

  For the first time since Kyle disappeared upstairs, I allowed an element of hope to creep in, until I recalled the other problem that came with vampires: their fangs, and their venom.

  I gave a low growl at myself. Tried to tell my negativity to fuck off. Did werewolves not have decent dentals? Could we not cause serious damage ourselves?

  Hell, yeah. I’d picked up more than a few pieces of leftovers after one or another of the pack had conquered in a fight.

  My breathing hitched to a temporary halt as I processed that information, as I decoded the detail to find what had faltered my stride.

  Dad and Connor had killed a vampire. Why would they not have faced the struggle I had when confronted by one?

  Because there were two of them? I didn’t see that to be it.

  My mind clicked as the cogs shifted into position, and my retained breath seeped out past my lips.

  Had vampires evolved in strength over the years?

  The wall snagged at my hair as I shook my head; I preferred my first explanation.

  All I knew for sure was they could be beaten—somehow. Dad and Connor had proven that.

  With renewed optimism, my fists tightened. Each one jigged with small pumping actions as I mentally spurred Kyle on. My lips moved to the rhythm of ‘come on’, like my will alone could bring a better result.

  About a billion mantra mumbles later, the scuff of shoes hit the floor on the other side of the steel doors.

  My lips paused in prayer. My steadied breath hastened, as did my pulse. Every muscle in my body tensed.

  The doors slammed open.

  An inhalation would have told me who returned—just one—yet my brain refused to relay the action, as if afraid of the discovery.

  One set of steps on the right, another on the left. The first held density that the other pair lacked, like they accommodated an additional burden.

  My mind flashed to the feline who�
��d been carried in earlier, her lifeless body slung like a sack over Andrew’s shoulder. That told me whoever they’d brought back had to be in bad shape if they warranted the assistance.

  Open your eyes, chicken shit, and find out.

  Stalling my breaths, I lifted my lids and scanned over the entrees. Andrew on the left had his scowl firmly in place as though pissed he’d run out of toilet tissue. The still sharp creases in the grey trousers of the one on the right identified Joseph as the carrier of the body.

  When understanding kicked in, that they hadn’t paused outside the vampire’s cage, I allowed my gaze to shift higher.

  The sight of the russet-coated wolf hanging from Joseph’s shoulder hit me with the impact of a bulldozer.

  I may have pleaded with any higher god that happened to be listening for Kyle to return, but I hadn’t prepared myself for seeing him look as dead as if he’d failed in the fight.

  Time slowed down, the movements of the approaching men decelerated and, for just a split second, my body ceased to function.

  No pulse patterned my ears.

  No breaths lifted my chest.

  I may well have blanked out.

  As though I’d moved on autopilot, I found myself at the bars with the cold iron pressed against my cheek. “Kyle.” The word scratched at my constricted throat on exit, sounding like it had been spoken by a distant stranger.

  “Aww, you’ve been worried about him.” For the first time, I received a smile from Andrew, though his eyes held only a harsh glint of chilled mirth. “You hear that, Joseph?”

  A low thunder-like rumble filled my ears, but I gave Andrew no response.

  Each of Joseph’s steps brought Kyle nearer. I attached my sights to the unmoving form, searching for any sign that he breathed, or for the pattern of his heartbeat.

  With the thickening of vocal muscles, my throat knotted until my breaths came short.

  “That’s sweet, Ethan.” Andrew rounded the corner, passing the first couple bars of my cage before halting. “Do you … do you two guys have something going on?” His laughter bounced off the stone walls.

  Joseph turned at the shifter’s cage, and the twist of his body brought Kyle’s muzzle into view.

  The rolling storm in my chest heightened in volume. Vibrations spread through me like something possessed.

  His jaw hung slack, as did his tongue through parted teeth, and his forelegs even lower than those. Rocking from side to side, Kyle’s head swayed in time to the rhythm of Joseph’s gait. His auburn coat appeared lank and matted. Redness accentuated his natural colouring, and I knew from the smell it had come from the weeping of his own wounds.

  “Oh, Jesus.” My whisper portrayed the panicked desperation my body warned could soon become rage. “Kyle?” Deeper, louder, my call received no reply.

  “What is he to you?” Andrew ducked in to soil the visual of my pack-buddy. “Your mate or something?”

  A low growl escaped as I sidestepped to lose his mug and recapture Kyle.

  Another humourless laugh rolled from him. “Goddamn, I’m right.”

  “Andrew.” Joseph stopped outside Kyle’s empty cage. “Do you think you could open this door sometime today? This wolf is no lightweight.”

  “Sure, sure.” His face bobbed in front of mine, and he sent me another smile before turning away to unlock Kyle’s cell.

  I moved as close as my restriction would allow. “What happened to him?”

  Although I’d aimed the question at Joseph, Andrew pushed the door open and headed back my way. “You really are worried about him.”

  I kept my eyes on the vampire as he lowered Kyle to the floor and placed my pack brother into shadow. A low thud signalled the hit of his head against concrete.

  “Did he get bitten?” I asked.

  Joseph left Kyle way too blended with darkness for my liking, and stepped from within the cage.

  Held by some kind of invisible force, I couldn’t look away from where my mind knew the prone wolf to be, as the too familiar drum of my heart beat out its panic again.

  Seeing Kyle across the shoulder of the vampire had been bad enough. Not being able to see him at all hitched my breath until sweat beaded my brow.

  “How badly is he injured?” Hoarseness revealed my emotions, yet I didn’t care.

  “This is just too cute.” Andrew moved across, blocking my view of Kyle’s cage, his lips twisted into a sick interpretation of a smile. “You’ve seriously got some strange kind of soft spot for him, don’t you?”

  I tried to look around him to Joseph. “Tell me. Is he going to be okay?”

  “Hey, Joseph.” Andrew glanced at the vampire as he tossed him the keys to Kyle’s cage. “Maybe we should do some switching around.” He turned back to me, took a step closer. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Arrange for your mate to move in next door? I reckon the bars are wide enough.” His chin jerked to the side, before his eyes resettled on me. “You could keep each other happy, no?”

  My shoulders stiffened at the taunting tone of his voice more than the words. I squared to stare back at him, and said, “I asked what happened to him,” squeezing my speech past my clenched jaw.

  “Which part would you like to know?” Although he had to lift his face to meet my gaze, he still ducked his head a little and peered up. “The bit where he refused to change, so we helped him along?” He shifted forward a little.

  I ground my teeth as I willed my lips not to retaliate. Flames of fury licked faster throughout me, but my eyes never once strayed from his. Come closer. I dare you.

  “Or did you want me to tell you about how he got his butt kicked by the vampire until he lost consciousness?”

  The tightening of my hands stretched the muscles through my forearm to elbow, and higher to my shoulders, whilst my unwavering focus absorbed every slight movement he made.

  Andrew’s chuckle bubbled out like air trapped in a drain. “Or did you mean how we watched the vampire chow down on your pal like he was the best damn meal he’d ever tasted?” His right foot shuffled his body nearer as he twisted and glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, Jo—”

  My arm launched for him through the bars.

  I gripped the back of his neck.

  His head spun back around as I hauled him toward me with the power of an overwrought gorilla.

  I snarled as his face smashed against the bars separating us.

  Shock registered in his wide eyes before his expression rumpled.

  My lips drew back, and my roar rolled free as a rough shove of my hand urged him backward.

  He opened his mouth, and a small protesting squeak burst out.

  As though my arm held the tension of a powerful bungee, I dragged him forward again.

  The crash of his face vibrated a hum through the entire enclosure. Cartilage exploded like a firecracker. Andrew’s nose collapsed. Blood sprayed to decorate the bars.

  A high sheen of nothingness took over the agony his eyes had portrayed.

  Another thrust off the metal rods, another yank toward me—again, and again. The third collision ruptured the flesh covering his snout. A fourth, and the iron gouged into his cheek. By the fifth, with his body kept upright only by my hand, his forehead impact rendered him definitely screwed.

  In some primal need to be certain, I drove my other hand through and grasped him by the throat. The rapid and sharp twist jerked his head to an unnatural angle. I’d thought his nose bridge breaking to be loud, but it paled beneath the boomed crack of his neck.

  My hands whipped away from him, as though contact for longer than necessary could taint me somehow.

  Gravity took him straight down.

  His landing sent a thunk echoing around the underground chamber like a message to any who listened. I’d no hard evidence, no facts, but t
he clawing guilt that they’d gone through someone I cared about to get to me for a second time screamed all the truth I needed inside my mind.

  Only once dense stillness settled around me did I register the harsh rise and fall of my chest as my breaths battled within, and the ripple of my lips releasing my snarls. Only then did I focus past the haze of tunnel vision through which I’d seen nothing but the one who spoke of Kyle’s plight with such mocking.

  I stared down at what I’d done, at the crumpled and bloodied mess on the floor. What had been his face had already begun a slow spillage, and it appeared garish against the grey concrete. The hoods sheltering my eyes pulled back a little, yet my pulse continue to rocket my blood through its pipelines.

  To say I’d never killed would be an outright lie. Before Andrew, though, not one of those deaths had been caused by anything other than self defence, preservation of the pack, or protection of one my pack brothers or sister. Never had I snapped over a mere taunting. Dad had taught me better than that. The loss of control, however momentary, terrified the shit out of me.

  I tore my gaze away and lifted it to Joseph.

  He studied me with interest in his eyes, a hint of amusement in his lips. “It would appear Catherine was right about you, after all.”

  My hands restarted their flex-un-flex game.

  Joseph stepped a little closer—not too close. “If you can do this from in there.” His hand gestured toward the dead werewolf before pointing at me. “Imagine what you could do unleashed.”

  The drowning racket within my chest subsided a little. I watched him take a round-about route to Andrew’s feet, where he stooped down and wrapped his fingers around an ankle.

  “Of course, Catherine’s bound to be a little peeved. You just killed one of her men.” Joseph straightened, elevating Andrew’s leg with the rise of his body, and sent me a smile that could be considered nothing short of conspiratorial. “I like you, though, so I’ll put in a good word for you. Tell her he provo—”

  “I need no favours from a vampire.” My voice arrived too level—a damn sight more even than it should have, considering the tremors racing beneath the surface of my flesh.