Blood Torn (Blackthorn Book 3) Page 5

  An assassination from the inside was the last thing anyone would expect. And if that wouldn’t send a message to the untouchable underworld, the likes of Caleb Dehain and Kane Malloy, nothing would.

  * * *

  Jask headed to the arch on the far side of the green and strode through the short tunnel. He passed the gate to the greenhouse on his left and then the oak on his right, the centuries-old tree marking the middle of the courtyard partially concealing the outhouse beyond.

  Turning the handle, he pushed open the weighty door and crossed the bare foyer to the holding room opposite.

  Rone and Samson sat at the table with their backs to the door. Corbin sat in a chair opposite them, leaning back against the wall. The atmosphere was dense with sullenness.

  Samson immediately looked across his shoulder as Jask closed the door behind himself. But Rone remained facing forward.

  Usually he’d take the head of the table, but this time Jask took the seat beside Corbin instead so he could look Rone and Samson direct in the eye.

  But both youths kept their eyes lowered.

  Jask knew he shouldn’t be allowing himself to be so personally affronted by the fact Rone was involved yet again. But the youth’s habit of walking into danger, especially so innocently, irritated too much. This time, even Corbin – usually the youth’s advocate – was going to struggle to justify his behaviour.

  ‘What was the deal?’ Jask asked.

  Samson glanced at Rone, the latter finally meeting Jask’s glare.

  ‘A few herbs,’ Rone declared.

  The revelation was worse than a stab to the lungs, the breathlessness making Jask’s chest clench. It was an act worthy of banishment. There was a time when he would have embraced getting Rone out of his sight, but now he was actually facing the prospect, it only made him feel sick. ‘You were supplying?’

  Both youths glanced nervously at Corbin whose upright posture now echoed Jask’s disapproval. Corbin who equally knew of the punishment for the unthinkable crime against their pack.

  Wide-eyed, Rone switched his attention back to Jask and nodded.

  ‘You were supplying this community’s herbs? The herbs we fight to keep alive. That ensure we stay alive. The herbs that allow the only semblance of freedom we have left. You were selling them off to vampires? And in Kane’s territory of all places?’

  ‘It was a one-off,’ Rone said, struggling to maintain eye contact under the weight of his leader’s glare. ‘I swear. A vampire approached us. She said she only needed a few. She needed to sell something on to some witch in order to get something to help her kid out. I felt sorry for her.’

  ‘So you struck a deal?’

  Rone looked back down at the table.

  Something wasn’t right. Something in his story didn’t ring true. Not just that, but he could read far too much in the youth’s eyes. It was a story they’d concocted whilst awaiting his and Corbin’s arrival, no doubt. As if Rone couldn’t disfavour himself to Jask any more, the youth was daring to lie to him.

  ‘And that’s who you went to meet?’ Jask asked. ‘Some lone female vampire in an isolated part of Blackthorn?’

  Rone looked back at him, but dropped his gaze just as quickly as he seemingly realised how flawed the possibility was. ‘We didn’t want to be seen. And she was desperate.’

  No vampire female would have been that desperate and they all knew it. They’d been up to something else. But they weren’t ready to talk yet, for whatever reason.

  But they would.

  Because that reason for holding back worried him more – and not just for the pack. Something told him Rone had got in over his head this time, and his resulting protective instincts were irritatingly kicking in against his will.

  ‘What’s her name?’ Jask asked, his glare burning into Rone’s lowered head, his mop of fair hair covering his eyes. Harsh impatience edged his tone as he turned to the other youth instead. ‘Samson?’

  ‘I don’t remember,’ Samson said, glancing up from under his eyelashes.

  Whatever was going on, it was bad enough for them both to risk being avoidant.

  ‘So I’ve got no way of tracing this mystery vampire?’

  ‘We thought the less we knew about each other, the better,’ Rone said, his continuation to lie escalating both Jask’s fury and concern.

  Jask rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward.

  Sensing his leader’s irritation, Corbin leaned forward to mirror him – the cautionary measure one he rarely took anymore.

  It was sign enough to the youths that they had overstepped the mark. How little chance they’d stand if Jask took the decision that he wanted the truth instantly. Under those circumstances, Corbin would be his reasoning head. Or from the way the youths glanced at Corbin, they certainly seemed to hope so.

  ‘You know the implications if it leaks out we’re willing to sell our substances,’ Jask said. ‘You know what threat that puts us under from the authorities. That’s why the answer is no. The answer is always no. No negotiation. You showed weakness. Your stupidity tonight could have massive implications – a ripple we cannot control. If the Lycan Control Unit hear of this they will come in and rip every herb from this place, then what do we do? Morph and be shot down on the streets? Or go on the Global Council’s meds and be filled with whatever shit they secretly put in those things? Our herbs are our lifeline and you know it.’

  Neither youth dared look up.

  ‘What do you know about the serryn?’ Jask asked. ‘The one you so happened to stumble on.’ Though, more worryingly, he now believed that a coincidence even less than the existence of the mysterious female vampire.

  ‘Everything we saw, we told you,’ Rone said, still unable to make full eye contact despite the change of focus.

  ‘You were down there at least an hour. You’re telling me she said nothing to you?’

  Rone shook his head. ‘Other than to try and persuade us to let her go.’

  Jask looked from Rone to Samson and back to Rone again. ‘I’m casketing you both for twelve hours.’

  Their gazes snapped to Jask’s in an accumulation of abject panic and horror.

  ‘No,’ Rone gasped instinctively.

  ‘You chose outsiders over your pack. That is unforgiveable. Worsened by the fact you may have jeopardised our freedom. You know the rules. You protest and it becomes twenty-four.’ Jask stood. ‘Immediate effect.’

  He could feel Corbin’s disapproval burning into him, but his second in command didn’t say a word. Instead, he followed suit and stood.

  Samson reluctantly did the same, the whites of his eyes upsettingly exposed.

  Rone pushed back his chair and stood more slowly. This time he did dare to meet Jask’s glare long enough to make his umbrage obvious. But he at least had the sense to remain tight-lipped as he followed Jask out of the room, Corbin bringing up the rear.

  Jask took a sharp left down the few broad steps to the stone corridor, dawn light paving the way from the high, rectangular windows nestled deep in the stone above. Their footsteps were the only things to break the ominous silence as they passed the first and then second door on the left.

  Opening the third, Jask stepped inside the forty-foot-square cellar. The walls left, right and ahead were lined with upright caskets – five in total.

  Striding past the stone table that lay central to the room, Jask chose the casket to the right.

  No lycan could handle being contained. And the smaller the space, the greater the torture. It was a punishment he rarely had to use. A punishment that sickened him.

  But the youths had to learn responsibility for their actions. Rone, in particular, needed to accept that his past wouldn’t save him from being treated like every other pack member.

  Corbin stepped up to the wall directly ahead of the door, selecting the middle of the three caskets. He summoned Samson, whilst Jask summoned Rone.

  Knowing any protest was futile, the two youths did as they were told, bac
king up inside the encasements.

  Jask and Corbin proceeded to regimentally strap in their ankles, calves, thighs, hips, waist, chest, arms and shoulders, before finally strapping their necks.

  Rone looked Jask in the eyes, his sense of being betrayed overshadowing his fear, but still said nothing as his leader closed the casket door.

  Discomfort lodged in his chest and throat, Jask crossed the room and stepped back out into the corridor. He stared up at the windows, at the shadows of the dead climbers behind the misted glass.

  He had to ignore the guilt. He’d do what he had to. This would make the point that the line was never, ever to be crossed. Something more important than ever with recent events.

  Corbin stepped out behind him, locking and sealing the door before hanging the key back on the hook. ‘You okay?’

  Jask turned to face him. ‘Something else is going on, Corbin.’

  Corbin slammed the viewing window shut. ‘I know. Are you thinking the same thing, I am?’

  ‘That this is a set-up?

  ‘Like I said on the way there, it’s a big coincidence, Jask. Five days ago a witch tells us the only way to save our pack is to find a serryn, and then one just turns up? What were the chances? Let alone one who managed to get herself manacled to a wall despite being alive and kicking. Maybe fate finally decided to cut us some slack, but I’m not convinced this is as easy as it looks. I hate to be the one to say this, but what if the witch who told us a serryn was the solution had lied? What if the witches wanted her in here?’

  ‘The witches in this district have nothing to gain by going up against lycans.’

  ‘But we went up against the TSCD, Jask. We both know they’re only biding their time before they get back at us. You saw the look on Xavier Cross’s face when you gave evidence against him. His division would have had Kane Malloy in the bag if you hadn’t scuppered their plans. So what if history is repeating itself? The TSCD used us to get to Kane, so what’s to say they’re not using the witches to get back at us? They know as well as we do that if word slips out that we’ve got a serryn hidden away here, we can kiss goodbye to our peaceful pact with the vampires. What if somehow they tricked Rone and Samson into being a part of that, and those two have only now realised it?’

  Corbin stepped closer to Jask, his tone lowered.

  ‘It makes sense why they’d opt for casketing instead of coming out with the truth, Jask. Especially Rone. You know how much he wants your approval, reluctant though he is to admit it.’

  ‘Which is why he thinks it’s okay to insult me by lying to my face.’

  ‘Which is why he’s scared every time he messes up.’

  ‘Which is why he should have learned by now to stop messing up.’

  ‘I hate to do this to you, Jask, but doesn’t he remind you of someone?’

  ‘I learned from my lessons.’

  ‘And from what I hear, you ran wild for years when you were his age on the way to learning those lessons. He doesn’t have that liberty.’

  Jask looked across at his friend. ‘Which I don’t need reminding of. And which is why he needs to learn to fall in line before he ends up dead or this pack ends up in trouble.’

  ‘So instead of this,’ Corbin said, cocking his head back to the chamber behind, ‘scare the shit out of them. It might be unpleasant but less unpleasant than this – and we’ll get to the truth a hell of a lot quicker. We don’t have time to waste here, let alone if we have been set up.’

  ‘I’m giving them time to think. I want them to come out with the truth themselves, Corbin. I want them to accept it’s their responsibility to do that. If Rone’s got any pretentions about one day leading a pack of his own, he needs to learn to put that pack first. So I’m not going to wrench it out of them. Not yet.’

  ‘Do you think they know we need a serryn? Do you think that’s why they were there?’

  ‘You saw as well as I did their shock at seeing what she is. Whatever reason they had for being there, I don’t think it was to collect a serryn.’

  ‘What about her? Has she said anything?’

  ‘I’ve held off until speaking to them.’ Jask headed back along the corridor and up the steps. ‘Now it seems I have no choice.’

  ‘And if you’ve torn off more than you can chew with her? There’s a reason no one fucks with serryns, Jask. And we don’t have time for maybes. Perhaps we need to focus on finding another way.’

  ‘In the next six days? Like we have been for the past five?’

  ‘As opposed to you getting her full co-operation in less time?’

  ‘If I can’t persuade her, I’ll find leverage and make her do what I want.’

  ‘They don’t care about anyone or anything. You know that.’

  ‘There is no other way, Corbin. The only way is through that serryn.’ Jask held out his hand. ‘Forty-eight hours and she’ll be doing whatever I want.’

  Corbin forced a smile at the familiar playful challenge as he took his friend’s hand, despite them both knowing the severity of the situation.

  They’d survived worse. And they’d keep surviving – one way or another.

  ‘Forty-eight hours and I reckon you would have killed her out of frustration,’ Corbin declared, sealing the deal, the concern emanating from his eyes despite his acceptance.

  ‘Such little faith.’

  ‘Not at all, Jask – I just know you. Better than anyone, remember? One way or another, that serryn will be out to break you. Just you make sure you get what we need before you break her.’

  Chapter Four

  Sophia sat on the window seat, her legs stretched out in front of her along its length. A light frost glistened on the window rims, the thin pane doing more than she would have anticipated in limiting the penetrating breeze whistling against the glass. Laughter emanated below, breaking the silence as lycans made their way up the steps and into the lobby.

  She gazed out at the tightly knit buildings beyond the compound – at the myriad of rooftops, the weak early morning sun catching their crescents, not least the spire of an old church she knew lay as derelict as many other buildings in Blackthorn.

  She knelt up and slipped her fingers under the sash window’s handles. It took a surprising effort to lift. She locked it into position to make sure it didn’t slam back down on her before bracing her arms on the window frame to peer out. The drop was at least twenty-five feet below and not so much of a hint of a climbing plant or trellis for her to cling on to. She twisted her neck to look up at the overhanging roof. Maybe if she was desperate…

  ‘You’d clear it if you were a lycan.’

  She flinched, whacked the back of her head on the window before glowering over her shoulder to see Jask stood behind her.

  ‘But I wouldn’t risk it,’ he declared, as she ducked back inside. He leaned past her and slammed the window shut, his arm almost brushing her legs had she not drawn them back so abruptly. ‘Even if you did get out of here, you’re not getting out of the compound. And you know it.’

  She rubbed the back of her throbbing head as she eased back against the wall. ‘We’ll see, shall we?’

  He sat at the opposite end of the window seat, facing her. He stretched the leg nearest to her along the length of the seat, trapping her between him and the glass. Bending his other leg to his chest, he rested his forearm loosely on his knee, creating an irritatingly casual pose.

  But it was a pose she equally hoped was reassuring. Because if Rone or Samson did know anything about The Alliance and had finally disclosed it to Jask, she was sure there was no way he would have retained his current composure.

  ‘Clearly personal space doesn’t mean anything to your sort,’ she said

  ‘Not when it’s my space to begin with – no.’

  She dropped her hand from the back of her skull, despite it still hurting. ‘How characteristically territorial.’

  He rested his head back against the wall, assessing her from under those dark lashes. There, in the tepid morn
ing sunlight, the depths of his azure eyes glimmered in all their beauty – his pupils remaining characteristically dilated despite the light. It was a shame sharks circled beneath their enticing surface. Because, despite her stomach knotting, she’d heard too much of what lay behind the handsome exterior to be contemplating what those lips tasted like.

  Despite it being justifiable, killing him was still going to be a terrible waste.

  ‘Have you got a problem with lycans, serryn?’

  ‘Like I said before, I’ve never really given your kind much thought,’ she said, dismissively looking back out of the window, annoyed to feel a glimmer of intimidation at his silent contemplation.

  ‘Those vampires didn’t know what you are. Or they wouldn’t have been stupid enough to take you down into those ruins,’ he remarked, clearly wanting to get straight to the very point she needed to avoid.

  The point that the serryn line had jumped to her whilst she had been chained up.

  ‘So?’

  ‘Why did you leave it that long before making them bite? If you were unconscious, fair enough. But from what Rone and Samson tell me, you were very much kicking. Why wait until you were chained up, minimising your chance of escaping?’

  She needed to make her brain fire quicker than it was, made eye contact again to grant herself an extra couple of seconds. ‘I made them bite as soon as I could.’

  Jask’s eyes brimmed with scepticism, but he still retained that patient resolve.

  There was no way she could let him discover that she had been a serryn just a matter of hours – firstly because she suspected he needed an adept serryn for whatever she’d been kept alive for and, more significantly, not when it would evoke the inevitable questions of how it had happened. Until she knew her little sister, Alisha, was out of Blackthorn, let alone that Leila was okay, she was saying nothing.

  ‘I got myself in a mess,’ she added. ‘It happens. And I got out of it.’

  ‘My pack got you out of it, you mean. Or you would have stayed chained up until the next batch of vampires found you, with the evidence of what you are spread all over the floor. I hear vampires can do some nasty stuff to serryns.’