The vampire stared at him and scoffed, his contempt clear. Kyle’s fist connected with his jaw in a sickening crunch, echoing through the spacious room. Their prisoner grunted, his displaced jaw healing in the seconds it took for Kyle to pin him back against the wall.
“Pesky rapid healing,” Kyle said and punched him again, this time breaking the jaw.
It healed, and Kyle was ready to deliver another blow whenthe vampire raised his hands. “OK… OK… I’ll tell him.”
Kyle stepped back, crossing his arms over his massive chest.
The vampire looked at Caster as he spoke. “I swear I didn’t know, Your Highness.”
Kyle’s palm landed across his face with such force, one of his teeth shot out of his bloodied mouth like a projectile. “I said, tell him!” He pointed at Mark.
Mark held on to the scent of their prisoner’s blood, to the promise that he would soon feel its warmth on his hands. It was only when the vampire spoke that he registered the grip on his arm. Caster had been restraining him this whole time.
“I didn’t know what we were there for until it was happening.” He dared glance at Mark, but his remorse rang false. “Bastian said it was just recon.”
“For what?” Dean’s tight voice reached past the roar in his ears.
The vampire looked down. “The witch said to follow you.” He looked at Mark. “She didn’t say what for. We’d been following you for weeks.”
Mark stepped forward, and the vampire shrank further into the wall he’d braced against. The resignation in his blank look brought a sense of accomplishment even as Mark’s hand closed around his throat. Caster, Dean, and Kyle didn’t move. This was his kill. They were spectators at best.
“Wait…” The vampire’s voice was strained as he started to squeeze. “I know where she is…”
Even to his revenge-consumed mind, he recognized thevalue of the information the vampire dangled in his face. He stopped, but didn’t release his neck. The vampire took the breath denied him and glanced at Caster.
“Don’t look at me,” Caster said. “You’re dealing with him now.”
The fear in his eyes made Mark smile. “I want something in return.”
“You’re not going to be alive for too long anyway.” Each syllable flowed past Mark’s clenched jaw, his wolf’s impatience almost painful.
“Not for me.” He glanced at Caster. “If I tell you where she is, you have to protect my wife.”
Caster stepped closer. “Protect her from what?”
The vampire shook his head. “I don’t know what the witch has planned, but I know it will get very bad. Please…”
“Mark?” Caster asked.
“Where is she?” He tightened his hand when the vampire looked at Caster too long. “He will protect your wife, you have my word. Where is she?”
“She has a house in Eastern Romania.” He looked at Caster again. “That’s all I know.”
Free to get his vengeance, Mark allowed a partial transformation of his hands, his claws digging into the vampire’s neck. Blood flowed through the wounds to coat his hand and seep through the white shirt, staining it a deep red. The severe injury started to close around his claws, a consequence of the Born-Vampire’s rapid healing. He pulledthem out, and the vampire, all too aware he couldn’t escape his fate, didn’t move as he plunged his claws back in with so much force, half his head fell from its tether, dangling on his torn neck, brushing against his shoulder.
Then Mark punched through his chest, enclosing his beating heart in his fist. He squeezed, reveling in the way the action increased the sputter of blood gurgling from his torn throat. He pulled the organ out of his chest and stepped back, allowing the vampire’s body to crash to the ground with a thud. He took a moment to stare at the organ in his blood-coated hand. It pulsed once, stilled, and he let go, allowing it to join the dead body it once occupied.
One down, five to go.
Caster had seen a lot of death. He’d killed a lot of vampires, humans, and werewolves in his long life, but the precision, the deep purpose of this kill was striking. It was almost as if Mark had been planning the exact sequence of actions for a long time.
Ten years.
His task done, the ever-efficient Kyle said something about cleanup and left the room.
“You coming?” Dean asked his brother, but Mark only shook his head.
Caster too remained rooted to the spot, unsure of how they’d ended up facing each other, their undefined attraction crackling between them. His mind failed to grasp the rational response needed to stop what he couldn’t. Mark’s lips were on his before he could even formulate a plan to regain his control.