Reykon
Reykon groaned, staring at the door. He knew that the other strongbloods were outside, taking care of Lucidia and the wolves, but the bullets that had ripped through him were really taking their toll. He clutched his torso and staggered after Robin.
When he got outside he saw an unconscious Lucidia, still twitching from electricity, and a screaming Robin, slung over Axel’s shoulder. Alex had a manic smile on his face. He glanced over to Reykon and crooked a thumb at the enraged human. “This one’s got spunk. I see why you let her get the drop on you.”
“I didn’t let her,” Reykon groaned, dropping to his knees. “Jesus.”
“What happened to you?” Grida asked, stepping over Lucidia’s unconscious body.
“She shot me.”
“Ugh,” Grida said. “I’ve got pliers in the car. Let’s move.”
They’d switched their motorcycles out for a fortified van, military grade. Perfect for transporting prisoners. And it carried a hefty amount of supplies, which Reykon was thankful for since Robin had pilfered all of his.
Zuri, the other female strongblood in the group, dragged Lucidia into the back of the van through the open doors, and then took her place in the driver’s seat.
Grida helped Reykon into the van, and crouched next to him on the bench, unzipping a medical pouch. Axel dumped Robin into one of the seats. She’d stopped screaming now and sat slumped over in the chair.
A sharp pain dug into his side.
“Fuck!” Reykon yelled, as Grida ripped a shard of metal out of him. “Some warning, please!”
“Shut up,” she muttered, pushing him down and going in for another one.
Axel sat next to Robin, the two comically different sizes. Axel pounded on the wall, letting Zuri know they were ready to go.
Reykon ground his teeth together as Grida (who’d never had a careful bone in her body) dug around with the implement. She got another one out and Reykon drew in a shuddering breath, glancing to Robin. She was still slumped over, being held up by Axel. He spotted a matted, red-streaked patch of hair, at the back of her head.
“Don’t let her fall asleep,” Reykon said. The words were disjointed, mottled from pain.
“Huh?”
“She’s got a concussion. She can’t sleep.”
Axel frowned and shook Robin’s shoulder. She didn’t move. He tried it again, adding on a sharp, “Hey!”
Never a smooth talker, Reykon thought distantly.
Robin mumbled something incoherent, still slumped over. Reykon’s vision was getting blurrier and blurrier, and he felt the last bullet leave his body. His eyes slipped shut. Yuri had started the car and pulled out, and they were moving along rock-littered road, headed to the nearest Demonte house, which was about a hundred miles south, in New Mexico.
Chapter 6: Cain
Lucidia
She struggled against the restraints, chained to an iron chair in the dungeon cell.
Vampires and their dungeons, she grumbled to herself.
Every vampire house had one; a remodel that they’d never dropped, even though the practice was centuries past its prime.
As soon as they reported her attack on Magnus’s strongbloods, she’d be sent straight to Darian’s dungeon. She’d visited, many times. He liked to call people down while he was in the middle of ‘discipline’. Lucidia had thought it to be a power move, though admittedly, as an intimidation technique it was highly effective. She’d seen him torture people into insanity.
She couldn’t focus on that.
They’d already contacted Darian, more than likely. Right about now, he’d be assembling a team of strongbloods to come pick her up at their location, to do a hand off. Once that happened, it would only be a matter of days before she wouldn’t see sunlight for the rest of her short (or long, depending on how hateful he was) life.
But even now, in the face of such circumstances, her eyes were fixed on the unconscious form she saw across the row of cells.
So, you’re Robin, she thought.
She was beautiful, with long, blond hair and soft features. She still had striking birthmarks running up her arms in a deep red shade. She hadn’t woken up since they’d carried her down and dropped her in a cell that had a bench to lay down on. Someone had shoved an icepack under her head and left.
They hadn’t been back since.
The only other prisoner was a half-form vampire, rattling in his chains directly across the block from Robin.
“Would you shut up?” Lucidia yelled, slamming against the manacles.
The creature hissed in her direction, showing rows of yellow-black, mangled teeth. His skin was a blue gray color, with strings of greasy hair hanging down. He’d really let himself go over the years. And his eyes were fixed on Robin, raking her over as he clawed to get a taste of the blood.
A pit was forming in her stomach. Robin hadn’t woken up yet, and in her shock induced half-consciousness, she remembered Reykon saying something about a concussion.
Wake up, she thought, wishing she could project the thoughts into her sister’s mind.
Sister. Blood. Family.
Words that, twenty-five years ago, had meant nothing to her. But the thought of Robin being harmed had put everything in action, like flipping a switch. Just like it had the night she’d given little baby Robin to the Wrights, as though she were singularly compelled to lay down her life for the girl.
And now look at all the trouble she’d gotten herself into because of it. Darian was sure going to have fun with her.
But it wasn’t just trouble for her; she’d dragged Clay into this, too. If Reykon told his superiors at House Demonte that the Brooks Pack had assisted in derailing a clandestine effort (that was the official wording), then it would spark a force to obliterate the Brooks wolves. To obliterate Clay.
She knew he’d been fine the last time she talked to him, and since he hadn’t shown up at the cabin, she knew he was still alive. That was good. That was enough to keep her going.
Lucidia shook
