8 Chapter Eight

Sitting in a booth at Nikki's diner, I started to feel like a dumbass, we had been sitting here for little more than three hours, just ordering the same root beer float over and over. I was sure at this point that the staff were becoming suspicious. I would make sure to leave the waitress a generous tip if we had any money left, yet like always, we were sitting in the dark with no idea what we are doing twiddling our thumbs.

"Why the fuck do they do this to us?" Jeremy asked. "Rhetorical question, they are purposely fuckin' us over because we are new. I'm sick of this shit man, I don't deserve to start at the bottom, I can't believe my father made me go on this mission, it's bullshit man." he said.

He had been complaining from the moment we got to town, and even more so now that he has to waste his precious moments following orders, and wait. But in a way I couldn't argue with part of his complaints, they always kept us in the dark and had no respect for the skills and talents that the younger hunters could bring to the equation.

Even though I wanted to agree with him, I knew if I did it would send him through another hour of non-stop complaining. Only a kid this guy was, I knew he wanted to be right but he rarely ever had his head on straight.

As he continued to yammer on about how mistreated he was being, I simply sat and enjoyed the continuous flow of root beer floats coming my way. Sipping at my float I got a sudden tingle on the back of my neck, knowing trouble was near-by my head snapped up, my eyes searching for the source. And as fast as my senses heightened they were extinguished, seeing Tony and Brandon standing next to him like a human shaped rock. When his eyes locked onto mine he began walking forward. And I couldn't help but notice that Jeremey's complaints had now fallen silent with a slight look of fear replacing his smart-ass smirk.

Knowing we wouldn't be here much longer now that they have arrived, I didn't bother to make room in the booth for them. Sliding my float to the side, I slouched in my seat and folded my arms across my chest. I had never really trusted Tony, but he had been our superior for almost thirty years now and I had just gotten used to the fact that we were never going to get along.

"Nathan, Jeremy." Tony said simply, "You're both being transferred to take care of a problem about 70 miles west of here."

I looked at Jeremy with a serious look of confusion. Newbies don't 'take care of a problem' we stick to search, guard and report, that was our job.

"What is the target?" I said as calmly as I could, which was better than expected considering my involuntary leg jumping. Jeremy just kept his eyes on Brandon, probably out of fear. I had seen the guy train back at camp and Brandon wasn't someone you wanted to fuck with.

"Should be an easy search and eliminate. It's very possible that you'll find live ones, if so call for a med team. Done deal. Any problems?" Tony asked, not that it was an actual question.

"Who is the target and where might we find their leftovers?" I asked, knowing that what he gave us wasn't much to go on, practically blind.

"Name isn't important, held up in his original spot, so should be pretty old. As far as we know he is keeping a special type of livestock that should be kept locked up, so look in the obvious places boys." He said, his tone growing more irritated.

"That is?" I asked, I knew that Jeremy was giving me a what-the-fuck look but I stood my ground. Yeah, Tony may be our superior but I wasn't about to be bossed around like a dog they trained to kill.

Tony just looked at me a moment and then took out his phone, tapped on the screen a few times and then put it back in his pocket. The next second two separate chimes, no doubt it was an address from Tony to our next mission, so I didn't bother looking yet. "Be in touch." Tony said, turning around and walking out the way he came, Branon's boulder-body shuffling behind.

"Are you fucking crazy? Are you trying to get both of us sent back to camp?" Jeremey exclaimed.

"Were you not just complaining for five straight hours about how mistreated you are? And sense you were too chicken-shit to say anything, I spoke up." I said plainly.

"Whatever, let just get the hell out of here, we need to hit the road, it's gonna be a long night." he said, slipping out of the booth.

"Then let's roll." and we were off.

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There wasn't any point in trying to figure out what time of day it was, so far the only thing I knew about my captors was the schedule of horrid food, and the one time a day that the vampire would come to my cellar to take more blood.

No matter how hard I tried to look into his face, it was always just a blur, almost like my eyes never worked right with him around.

I knew another witch had to be behind the vision blur, and most likely the fog in the forest too. The only question was why? Why would she do this to her fellow sisters? Even the Shadow witches were accepted in our society. The way you used your magick is up to you and the consequences come with the actions. Not from our coven.

By the third day I had no choice in eating the food that was provided, my nutrients and blood levels were so low that anything would help at this point. Even if what I was eating happened to taste and smell unspeakable.

At this point I was feeling hopeless, no one knew where we were going, and no one knows that Phenelope is missing, and with that spiraling thought, I began to think about my mother, and how she taught me to be strong and never give up, that family is everything and he biggest pet peeve that everything happens for a reason. But what was the reason for this? What reason did this person have to keep prisoners like this; My family couldn't help now, and the last thing I feel is strong.

I could feel the tears start to fall again, even though crying was painful now, it was the only emotion I had left. The anger had slipped out of me when the vampire had forced me to be conscious when he took from me.

Every day that he would come into my lonely, dark stone room my only defense was to try not to struggle, because no matter the suffocating, burning pain it caused anyway, resisting only made me beg for the darkness to overtake me for the last time. I promised myself every time that I would try a little harder to get a glimpse of his face, though in the moment I know he must be using his abilities to keep my eyes averted. The more I try the more it hurts, the only thing that really overtakes me is the smell of my blood, and the burning sting coming from the more he drinks. Once it is all over and done and he has satisfied himself, the door is closed once again and I am left alone, lonely, in pain and scared.

I lay down on the thin cot-like bed in my dark cellar, and the only thing I can think is 'when is today going to be the last'.