Chapter 18

Patrick was led to a waiting car and stuffed in the back. A redhead he didn't recognize was in the driver seat. Just by looking at him, Patrick knew what he was.

A vampire.

Patrick leaned his forehead against the cool glass and tried not to scream. The night before last was still vivid behind his eyes; the blood, the fear, Troy. The thought of going back was more than he could bear and yet.

There he was.

With a driver who knew the way, the ride was much shorter than Patrick's previous trip. The redhead pulled through the gates and up the sweeping driveway, then he veered off into a stone building decorated to look like an old carriage house. Inside were other cars, most of them shiny and sleek.

No one spoke as they climbed out. The redhead cast a disinterested glance their way, then sauntered through the building's side door. Michael started to follow, but stopped when Patrick didn't do the same.

"Come on. You want to piss Claudius off even more?"

Patrick drew back a step. "What does he want me for?"

"I already told you. You're his slave, just like me. The difference is you only have to come when you're called and I'm stuck here all the time. Come on."

Patrick was afraid to follow, but even more afraid to resist. He walked behind his brother, out the door, and down a path toward the manor house. A side door stood open. They ducked through it and past the pair of vampires loitering inside.

"Those are guards," Michael whispered, his voice so low Patrick could barely hear it. "They're all over. Claudius has them keeping an eye on all the doors."

"Why?"

Michael snorted. "God only knows. He's in some bunch of wars or something."

Patrick thought about what Jorick had said, "Oren's coven is at war with Claudius." God, did Claudius know about the deal with Jorick? For fuck's sake, he hadn't even told Michael yet!

They found Claudius waiting in his study, surrounded by his glittering weapons, Troy at his side. Patrick looked away quickly, eyes on the floor, too afraid to meet the vampire's gaze.

"There you are," Claudius said. "How kind of you to grace us with your presence." He snapped his fingers and Michael dropped to the floor in a groveling bow. Patrick looked from one to the other, confused, until his brother forcibly pulled him to the floor.

"Your brother needs to learn the appropriate respect," Claudius said. "Troy, find someone to handle that."

"Yes, Master."

Patrick's stomach twisted at Troy's joy.

"Not you," Claudius added and, though Patrick didn't look, he could almost feel Troy's disappointment. "I have something more important for you."

"Yes, of course." Troy jerked Patrick up by the back of his jacket and pressed his face close. "Come on, pretty boy, let's teach you some manners, huh?"

Troy lugged Patrick out of the room to the lavish entryway, then into the empty ballroom. Patrick had a brief look at the fantastic mural on the opposite wallAdam and Eve?before he was dragged through a concealed door and down a set of stairs that faded into blackness.

The darkness was complete, but Patrick sensed the rooms Troy pulled him through. The floor he half threw him to was concrete, and Patrick instinctively felt around, finding only emptiness.

"Stay here," the vampire barked, then strode away.

Patrick pulled himself upright and hugged his knees to his chest. He could hear his heart beating in his ears and sick panic backed up into his throat. What were they going to do to him?

Footsteps sounded. He could hear Troy's guttural laughter, then a second voice; a woman's. "What's the point?"

"Who knows," Troy answered, their voices louder as they walked into the room. "It's one of those times when you humor him and roll your eyes behind his back."

The unseen woman scoffed. "You should watch who you say that to."

"I know I can trust you, Yulia." Patrick could imagine the wink. "You gotta know who has your back."

"Then you should know I don't have anyone's back. My loyalty is to myself first, Claudius second, and everyone else third. Now go away and let me do my work."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart. You get done early, then maybe..."

"You'll be too busy. Goodbye."

Troy snickered, muttered something Patrick couldn't catch, then his footsteps clomped away.

Patrick could feel the womanno, vampiressstanding near him in the dark, but he couldn't see her. In his alert terror he could almost smell her; almost sense the danger snapping behind her eyes, like a rabbit sensing a predator. He stood, ready to run or fight, not that he thought he could do either in the dark.

Her voice came like a slithering snake through the black. "You've been disrespectful to the master. That's a very bad thing to do, child."

"I-I'm sorry."

"Don't tell it to me. I'm not here for your apology, I'm here to teach you a lesson. Take off your shirt."

The alarm bells in his head rose to a screaming pitch. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

Her authoritative tone left no room for argument. With trembling fingers, he shrugged out of his coat and t-shirt. The cool basement air teased his naked skin and sent goose pimples racing up his back.

He could hear her move, and he jumped when something metal clinked to his left. "Hold still," she commanded, her voice near his ear. He flinched at the proximity, but she grabbed his arm and clamped something heavy around his wrist. He tried to pull away, and heard the tell-tale sound of a metal chain slither over the concrete.

"What the fuck?"

"Sorry, kid. Punishment is punishment." She clamped a second cuff on his right arm and tugged the chains, as if testing them. "That should hold you."

He pulled uselessly at the restraints and tried to concentrate over the roar of his pounding heart. He couldn't make sense of the sounds; she was moving things around, but what? Then the sounds stopped and her voice came as a terrifying purr. "Let's get down to business."