Taken

The way to Morgan's office was more than familiar to Cain, though he noted with a measure of concern that the normally lively corridors where thralls typically roamed freely had become significantly less traveled. Those who did walk the halls appeared to be scurrying from one destination to the next with a frenzied sort of urgency, like rats trying to avoid the notice of an exterminator. It was of particular concern to Cain, given the most recent news that Evan had asked him about at the gates. Crowe was apparently on the prowl, and was making no attempt to show restraint. It was a chilling reminder that even if a thrall was meant to be off-limits, a sufficiently motivated vampire would find a way to feed. Such was the life of a thrall, and no matter how hard Cain and the more senior thralls in the castle worked to try and shield the lesser thralls from that harsh reality, it would inevitably catch up to them. 

This was the third time since he'd been turned that a vampire sowed fear among the thralls, and the fact that two out of those three times the vampire had been Crowe was certainly something to consider. Cain didn't have the sort of power he would need to try and make a move against Crowe, but maybe if Crowe kept behaving so erratically, one of the other vampires would take notice. 

He was loath to want anything from his detestable sire, and he knew that there was no concern or care in Lord Solveig for the thralls in his castle; he barely cared for the vampires who served at his beck and call, much less the humans that he viewed as utterly expendable. While there were certainly thralls who considered being in Solveig's retinue an honor, Cain knew that holding such a position was meaningless to the clan head. He only cared about control, and didn't care who he controlled, so long as he got what he wanted in the end.

Still, Cain didn't think it was too severe of a situation, not until he reached Morgan's office and saw the pale, drawn expression she wore. In the room were two more thralls besides Morgan; he took in their twin looks of anxiety and despair with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Whatever this meeting was supposed to be, he had a feeling that as soon as the new thralls were bundled off, a far more serious conversation was bound to take place.

He couldn't worry about that now, though, because he had a task to complete. "Seneschal Morgan," he said, "These are the two new thralls Thomas was sent to collect for the castle some weeks ago." 

"Thank you for bringing them," Morgan said, her voice low and solemn. "Hello," she said then, turning to greet the two thralls with a soft smile that eased a bit of the tension in the room. "I have your rooms prepared for you. Follow me."

Dipping into perfectly polite curtsies, Cara and Arabella followed Morgan from the room, leaving Cain alone with the other two – Grace and Ellen. Neither seemed particularly happy, but it was Grace that Cain worried for the most. She had several bruises marring her delicate features, and seemed to be holding herself stiffly, like she had more injuries concealed beneath her long sleeves and floor-length skirt. 

"What happened?" Cain asked her, fighting to keep any anger he felt from his voice. Crowe was the one who deserved his rage, not a thrall who had clearly taken a beating. "Who did this?"

Ellen stepped forward slightly, her hand resting softly on Grace's shoulder. "Jacen," she said.

Crowe's thrall. Of course. If Crowe had dealt the damage himself, there would have undoubtedly been fewer bruises, and more scars. "What was he after?" Cain asked.

"Crowe wanted to know what magic kept him from touching the boy," Ellen answered, glancing at Grace, whose lip was trembling despite her best efforts to appear unaffected. "He persuaded Grace to tell him."

"I didn't want to say anything!" Grace suddenly exploded, pulling away from Ellen's hand and curling her shoulders inward, wrapping her arms around herself like a small child hiding from the cold. "I didn't say anything, not during the beatings."

"He threatened to bring her to Crowe," Ellen said softly, not trying to touch Grace again, but gazing at her with clear sympathy. "To enthrall her, so she would have no choice but to answer."

It was an impossible position. Anyone who knew Grace long enough knew about her history with a violent, controlling vampire. She'd fought so hard to remain beneath the notice of the vampires of this castle, and the thought of being dragged before Crowe, one of the cruelest of the lot, had to have been a living nightmare to even consider. "I see," Cain said. "I don't begrudge you for caving to such a cruel ultimatum."

Grace seemed to begrudge herself the decision, though. "It was him or me," she whispered softly, "and I chose myself."

"Damien's been missing ever since that afternoon," Ellen informed Cain, her voice soft and free of judgement. She understood, like Cain understood, that sometimes a thrall was placed in an impossible position. That there were fates worse than death, in places like this. Sometimes the coward's choice was the only real alternative.

"And how long ago was that?" Cain asked, already dreading the answer. 

"Three days," Ellen said.

Cain swore before he could catch his tongue. 

Grace flinched at the harsh use of profanity, while Ellen sent him a dangerous look. She had always been protective of her thralls, and while Grace was technically not a laundry thrall anymore, that didn't stop Ellen from caring. 

"He's already enthralled," Grace said, her tone empty. "Has to be. After three days…" 

Cain felt his jaw tighten with irritation. The young man was ill, surely Crowe could find a more suitable thrall than some mate-sick mongrel. How long would it take for Crowe to tire of the boy, or command him to do heinous, disgusting things, simply because he could no longer be properly entertained by the thrall's weakening body? Crowe liked to see his thralls suffer, he thrived on pain. No wonder he'd developed an interest in a thrall who was already wasting away without Crowe needing to do anything at all. The boy was already miserable without the addition of a sadist vampire for a master.

"If he's enthralled, the best thing to do for him is get him out of Crowe's clutches," Cain said firmly. "What comes after that will be determined by his condition."

Grace's shoulders hitched, her breath catching in a half-muffled sob. She was a sweet girl, and the knowledge of what Crowe was likely doing to Damien at this moment had clearly affected her deeply. Cain felt a measure of sympathy for her, but he himself struggled to feel such slights so keenly. He'd learned very soon after his turning that if he allowed his empathy to crush him, he would never survive in this cruel place. So Cain had learned to feel things less keenly, to take pride in his cowardice, toe be grateful when he chose himself over the lives he'd doubtlessly ruined with his actions. 

Like the life of the boy now in Crowe's clutches had, in an indirect way, been ruined by Cain's own actions. The least he could do was try and extricate the werewolf from such dire straits, given that Cain was at least partially responsible for this mess. 

Besides, the full moon was coming in a matter of days. It would be dangerous for everyone if the boy was left somewhere he couldn't be completely contained. Cain didn't know how well enthrallment worked on the wild beastial nature of a fully transformed werewolf, and he had no interest in finding out, either.

"You find that boy and bring him back," Ellen said firmly, her eyes alight with concern. "We'll take care of the rest."

It was reassuring, knowing they had someone as reliable as Ellen in their corner. Cain had been on the receiving end of her care and concern on more than one occasion, and he knew that Damien would be in good hands, once he managed to take him back from Crowe. The real question was how hard Crowe would fight to keep him.

And, if he fought dirty, how long would Cain last without the ability to feed? Crowe could still drink human blood and recover from any injuries he sustained. Cain had no faith that the moon goddess would listen to him again. And even if she did… that had been an excruciating experience that he wasn't interested in repeating anytime soon. He would just have to try and get Damien back using the same sort of underhanded methods Crowe had used to take him in the first place.

To do that, though, he needed to make a stop before he found his way to the vampires' residential quarters.

He needed to present himself to Lord Solveig, and worm his way back into his master's favor.

The very thought made his stomach turn, much in the way that eating food or, he supposed, drinking blood now did. He hated needing his sire's help. But he couldn't face Crowe alone, and no matter how much he disliked the boy, he wasn't inclined to leave him there indefinitely. 

Steeling himself for what was bound to be an infuriating conversation, Cain returned to the thrall corridors, making his way deeper into the castle.