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The vampire grew impatient and shoved me forward. “Keep walking, bitch.”
Cain swung around and backhanded the male. “Show some respect!”
I shied back from the wild expression on Cain’s face. Angry I could handle, but crazy was unpredictable and far more dangerous than rage.
“I… I’m sorry, Master Mahan,” the vampire simpered, using the name Cain’s cult, the Caste of Nod, used for him. “I assumed since she was a prisoner—”
“Sabina is not a prisoner. She is a guest. You will treat her as such.”
“Yes, master.”
I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t the right time to point out that people usually didn’t stab their guests in the back and then force them into creepy catacombs.
Speaking of being stabbed, the wound around the brass stake felt hot and achy. Most likely, my vampire blood was knitting the skin around the blade in a futile effort to heal the wound.
As we’d walked through the tunnels, I’d tried to use my free hand to reach the spike, but I couldn’t do it without some serious contortion. Since I couldn’t remove the brass, I decided to fill up on intel. “Hey, Cain?”
He’d started walking again and didn’t turn to look at me when he replied. “Yes?”
“How far is this place?”
“Not far now, my dove.”
I gritted my teeth against the endearment. “I’m surprised all this is down here.”
He paused and looked over his shoulder. I tried to keep my expression innocent and interested. It must have worked because he started waxing poetic about the macabre setting.
“Yes, it’s remarkable, isn’t it?” He fingered a chipped fresco set between two niches. “There are hundreds of kilometers of catacombs all over the Roman countryside. Did you know that?”
I shook my head. “That’s amazing.” It was, but not because I was interested in ancient history. I wanted to know about escape routes. “How long are the ones we’re in?”
Cain pursed his lips. “I believe these are seventeen kilometers, spread out over four levels. More than one hundred fifty thousand mortals were buried here.” He took a deep inhale of the dank air. “Can you smell it? All the death. It’s invigorating.”
“I’ll say.” Cain had made a colossal mistake choosing this place as the spot for our confrontation. Chthonic magic is basically earth and death magic, so, once unleashed, my powers would thrive in this playground. That was, if I could get the f**king spike out first.
The long walk gave me time to adjust to the onslaught of powers. It also gave me some time to get used to the claustrophobic layout, with its low ceilings and narrow passages lined with niches carved in rock.
The farther we got, the quieter Cain and his acolytes grew. The quieter they got, the wetter my palms grew.
It was one thing to distract myself with fantasies of escape, but deep down I knew I couldn’t defeat them on my own. Cain had planned this too well. He’d beaten me at my own game and now he’d make good on his promises. The chance of the cavalry finding me was a joke. With the brass in my back, they couldn’t track any sort of magical trail. It’d take more than one of Adam’s miracles to make this turn out all right.
My heart thudded in my ears. The energy I’d absorbed earlier writhed in my midsection, eager to be unleashed. But the more it built, the shakier I felt. There was only so much power I could stockpile before it overpowered me.
Eventually, Cain led our procession to a chamber at the end of a corridor. The room appeared to be an ancient chapel once used by those who dug the catacombs. Time hadn’t been kind to the structural elements. The stone altar was pitted and large chunks were missing.
In the small, dark space, Cain’s brilliant red hair flashed like a siren. But it was the other redheads waiting for us that made cold sweat cover my chest.
Behind the altar, in a niche, Persephone was bound and gagged, her body folded painfully into the tight space. Damiano stood next to her stone prison.
“Master! I am so relieved by your triumphant return.”
“Silence,” Cain said, his voice low and menacing.
Damiano’s eyes flicked back to the Domina nervously, but his shoulders slumped in submission to Cain.
I wanted to interrogate Damiano, find out why he’d turned against Persephone and Chiara.
Wait a second, I thought. “Where’s Chiara?”
Cain smiled. “She proved… superfluous.”
I closed my eyes and crunched my face together to hold in the impotent rage. Keep it together, I thought. Stay calm and you might just survive.
When I opened them again, I looked at Persephone. Her eyes were open and her gaze was pitiful. Full of regret that arrived about twenty-four hours too late. “I hope you’re happy with yourself.”
She looked down at the dirt floor.
“Look at me,” I demanded. She looked up again, her gaze hardened. “If he succeeds, you are to blame.”
Cain tilted his head and smiled at me. “Your audacity is charming, dearest. There is no if—I will succeed.”
“What’s your plan?”
Cain raised a carmine brow. “You know what I want.”
“This again?” I taunted. “No means no, Cain. I won’t take you to Irkalla so you can beg Lilith to take you back.” I was dragging this out, taunting him. Maybe if I shook his composure he’d be easier to outsmart. I leaned forward. “If you ask me, this whole psycho-ex-boyfriend thing is coming off as kind of creepy and desperate.”
His lips twitched, like he was enjoying a private joke. “Perhaps I can change your mind.” He jerked his chin at Damiano. “Bring her.”
The vampire hesitated, but a threatening look from Cain had him hustling toward the niche and Persephone. He dragged the trussed Domina out like a sack of flour. She hit the ground with a groan.
“Scusi, Domina,” Damiano whispered.
Cain cleared his throat menacingly. Damiano shot him a guilty look; then he jerked Persephone to her feet. She glared at him with eyes fairly glowing with hatred.
The ancient human approached the ancient vampire. Most humans would be idiots to get so close to a vampire, much less one who was older than most civilizations. But Cain was the oldest being alive and had the added benefit of being de facto immortal thanks to a major loophole from the mortal deity.
He ran a thumb down her cheek and whispered, “You were wonderful last night.”
A shudder wracked Persephone’s body, but her chin came up. He may have violated her body, but he hadn’t taken her spirit.
