“It’s just a ring,” he said. “Bought it in a gift shop in Hawaii. Ever been?”
I warmed my hand with a splash of flame and slapped the vampire across the face. The left side of his cheek crackled and burned and he hissed with pain.
“Listen, let’s make this easy for both us. Yeah? I make the jokes around here. Understood? Now, what is the ring about? What’s the symbol stand for?”
The vampire glared at me, doubling down on his insolence.
In my experience—with humans as well as monsters—torture worked in two ways. One, the prisoner had information and refused to say anything, no matter what. Two, the prisoner knew nothing and confessed to everything, truthful or otherwise. My best bet was to keep the vampire off-balance, to shift the conversation from subject to subject, trying to rattle him into making a mistake.
When he didn’t respond quickly enough, I did just that—jumped ship, changed the topic, and tried to throw something out to gauge a reaction. “Why did the Nephil come for this house?” I asked. I didn’t really care about the ring, anyway. I cared about Mel and what had happened to her. If I could fluster him enough, he might make a mistake with a question that mattered.
He held his smirk, showcasing his teeth—they weren’t fanged anymore.
“Did your friends come here for the girl?” I asked.
“For the girl,” he repeated. “For Melanie.”
I squeezed his ring in my hand. The metal edges bit into my palm. The light pain kept me lucid enough to ignore the fact that the vampire had uttered my daughter’s name—her full first name. “Why?” I asked, my voice trembling as I struggled to control my emotions. I guess he had caught me off-guard. The interrogation wasn’t going as I had hoped.
“We are only told what to do, not why we do it. Taking you and the girl alive was the assignment,” he said. “The only instruction.” He showed his perfect teeth again. They made me want to floss, which made me hate him even more. If there’s one thing I can’t stand about dental hygiene, it’s flossing.
“So, who sent you? Who do you answer to?”
Without allowing the corners of his lips to drop, he said, “You’ll never see her again—Melanie. Not unless you surrender.”
That did it. That simple statement rattled me beyond hope.
I shot forward and grabbed the back of his head in both my hands, then threw his face to the ground. His nose cracked and blood spread around him. He coughed and moaned, still restrained to the chair. I lifted him back up by his hair, setting the chair on all four legs. He no longer appeared so attractive.
“Did I wipe that fucking smile from your face?” I asked. “Because if I see it again, I’ll have my friend back here—” I turned and gestured to Xander, “cut your lips off.” I patted the vampire’s mopped head and grinned. “We clear?” Turning a circle, I scanned the cluttered garage for water. “Someone get this man a cup of water so he can wash the blood off his face.”
One of the M.I.S. hunters hustled into the house.
The vampire wheezed for breath. After a second, he held up his head and faced me. “We’ll get to you,” he muttered through his wrecked face. “If it means killing your daughter like we killed your pretty wife.” He coughed, spraying a mist of blood onto the floor.
“What did you say?”
He didn’t smile, apparently taking my threat to heart, but I saw his lips strain as he fought against a smirk. He rubbed his bloodied face across his shoulder. “Before Callie died, we enthralled her, though it didn’t take too much convincing.” He licked his lips.
“Joey,” Xander said from behind me. “Careful, now. He’s getting to you.”
I scratched the side of my head. He mentioned Callie and that night. What did he know about her? Had he killed my wife? Did he know who had?
The vampire chuckled, then coughed up more blood. “You want to know how big this is—this night? Come here then.” He grinned, testing my threat. “You can’t hide from us any longer. You’ve used your magic again. We have your aura, now.”
“Joey,” Xander said again.
I ignored him and stepped toward the vampire. “What?” I asked, leaning toward him.
“Inside the band,” He whispered, “was an inscription of your initials, along with the Nephilim word for love.”
“Joey,” Xander said, his voice lost to me as the vampire’s words cascaded over my comprehension.The garage dizzied around me, and I had to drop to a knee for balance. A second later, hands touched upon my shoulder as if to hold me up. Maybe they were. I know I didn’t have the strength to hold myself up.
“Where… where did you hear that?” I asked, my voice barely audible. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the monster.
“From her,” he said, grinning.
Though I shivered, heat welled inside my body and threatened to burst from my skin and devour the entire garage.
Xander held my shoulders, not allowing me to move. “Joseph, breathe. Don’t do anything rash.”
The vampire had recited the scribblings that I had etched into the metal of Callie’s wedding band. I swallowed, trying to keep my thoughts on Mel, trying to convince myself to keep the vampire alive.
“From who?” I asked, not daring to look at him. If he wore a smile, I would lose my mind, and Xander—or anyone else, for that matter—wouldn’t have the strength to hold me back.
A door closed in the garage. I glanced over and saw that the M.I.S. agent had returned with a red cup. He handed
