Page 69 of Come for Me
Part of me wonders if Alaina is worried she’ll suffer the same fate as her mother. She’ll gain enemies. That, she wouldn’t be wrong about. But she’d be wrong to assume I won’t keep her safe. Women like to think their men soften after meeting them, but not me. My pack was important to protect before the need to secure my reputation as a ruthless, sadistic king. But now, my pack matters little—I matter little—if she’s not part of it.
I keep walking past the cells and stop when I no longer smell fear. To confirm, I sniff the air again, no fear, sweat, or urine. I don’t hear teeth chattering, either.
A vampire leans against the stone wall. His aura is minimal in power, indicating he’s a newly made vampire. With red eyes, he stares at me, calm and emotionless.
Hellooo. What’s this?
I nod toward the cell for the guard to let me in, and he opens it.
Sam grabs him from behind and pushes him toward the interrogation room.
He doesn’t protest or struggle, and if he didn’t have anything to hide, he’d be begging to be let go.
This guy knows something.
His calm nature exudes confidence, as he thinks he can hold up under torture. But his presentation and blatant arrogance tells me more than he wants me to know.
My reputation is too well known for him to not know who he’s had the misfortune of falling into the hands of. This means he simply doesn’t care, which leads to two possibilities: his master is also ruthless and torture is something he’s not a stranger to.Somewhat likely.Or he’s exceedingly loyal to his puppet master,whoever he is. His lack of perspiration shows me the puppet master is just that, the show. He doesn’t run the operation and doesn’t call the shots, just carries them out.
This guy’s a pawn, a major piece in completing the ring leader’s mission, yet disposable. Judging by his smug look, he’s succeeded in carrying out his master’s wishes. And now he’ll die for it, just like the show runner and puppet master intended.
Unfortunately, this means whoever is behind these attacks are a step ahead of us. This guy doesn’t know who is actually in charge. I know I won’t get that from him. It’ll get us one step closer, as whoever sent him out today to head these attacks answers directly to the person in command.
This guy is going to help me.
I’ve learned overtime that the ones who aren’t fazed by the dungeon and the sounds of torture are the ones who have intel I want. They’re not scared because they’ve accepted their death, as they’ll die before they give anything up. They’re usually the toughest to crack, but they make the sweetest sounds when they finally do sing. And they always do. His symphonies will spill his secrets.
We walk toward the torture room. My guys strap him to a chair.
I pull up another chair in front of him and drape my arm over the back of it. One foot planted in front of the chair, the other stretched out. I cock my head as I assess my new victim.
Based on the wounds on his side and forehead, he hasn’t fed in a while, causing him not to heal as fast.
He’s not a randomly made vampire like the others and has earned his new immortality. His attire tells me he’s closely associated with wealth.
Although disheveled, his hair had gel in it, which tells me appearances matter wherever he’s from.
We sit in silence as I scan him from head to toe.
The bloodsucker flashes his fangs at me, hissing, “I’m not telling you anything.”
Having heard them all before, I flick my wrist with a dismissive wave. I mindlink Jerry, ordering him to come to my side. He doesn’t hesitate.
Jerry, although a decent fighter, has turned his back on the pack. During the last battle, I caught him ignoring a brother’s plea when he was taking on too many. Sam informed me the two had a dispute over a she-wolf, and Jerry was upset. A wolf whose loyalty can change is like catnip to my enemies. And I can’t have that. Jerry is nothing more than a threat to my pack’s safety now. And I have no use for a warrior I can’t trust.
“Slit your throat, Jerry.”
His eyes widen. “Wh-What, sir?”
I exhale. His stuttering presence irritates me as he feigns innocence. “Our guest is thirsty and hasn’t fed in days. Slit. Your. Throat.” At the last part, I use my alpha command.
Jerry reluctantly takes out from knife his holster. The blade glints in his shaky hands. He swallows when it reaches his throat and squints as he starts slicing his skin with the knife. Jerry bleeds out, gurgling blood.
Black veins travel up the bloodsucker’s neck as his eyes go dark. Blood sending him into a feeding frenzy, he thrashes violently.
“Have I got your attention now?” I stand and stroll toward Jerry’s spasming body. I grab him by his collar and lift him to bring him just out of reach of the vampire’s fangs. “If you want a drink, all you have to do is talk.”
Instead of going for Jerry’s bloody carcass, the vampire tries to bite me.
