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"Lord Greenwald told us to make sure you arrive in a condition conducive to instant cooperation," Gold Hair added.
"Say...that...three times...fast," Cai spat, his eyes alive with hate despite the quip. "Still not getting shit out of me."
The Goth aimed another kick, and Rand sprang.
No!
Rand hit Chavez like a battering ram, the two of them rolling in a flailing, cursing tangle a few feet away from Cai. Chavez screamed as Rand clamped down on his shoulder, punching through skin and muscle to bone. The collar bone shattered under the power of his jaw.
Chavez managed to heave him off only because Rand saw the female moving in the corner of his eye. He sprang away from the Goth and back, landing in a hovering position over Cai's body. His hackles were raised, increasing his already formidable size, and a menacing sound came from deep in his chest, a message loud and clear.
"What the fuck... Shoot it." Gold Hair had pulled Chavez back out of range and three sets of wide vampire eyes were now on them. Gold Hair's barked command was to the three servants. Two drew handguns from the shoulder holsters they wore.
Shift, Rand. Damn you, shift, or they'll kill you right there. You're outnumbered.
Trying to take out three vampires and their servants. Rand couldn't think of a better way to go.
You and your fucking death wish.
"Goddamn it, don't harm him," Cai snapped. "Or whatever the hell you want, the chance you have of getting it from me goes from slim to not-in-this-fucking lifetime."
The servants hesitated. Since their gazes didn't leave Rand, Rand expected that was because they'd received a message from their vampires to hold. The female studied Rand and tossed an amused look at Gold Hair. "Who would have thought a Trad would have a pet? They sneer on having human servants, but this one'll have a dog. Priceless."
I will rip out her throat. The urge to do it consumed Rand's gut, and translated to his saliva glands.
She'd gut you before you have a chance. I appreciate the thought, but I'm not worth it. You know I'm not. You were a fun fuck. Run along and maybe we'll hook up next time a hunter tries to shoot you.
If he didn't know the vampire was trying to get him gone for his own well-being, Rand would have torn a strip off him for the patronizing tone. Most everything the vampire said was true or meshed with Rand's own rational thinking. These were not his people, and he had no idea if Cai had done something to deserve whatever these vampires were doing to him. But Cai was outnumbered, which seemed unfair. And Rand couldn't forget those couple of instances over the past few days where the vampire could have been consistently selfish and unkind...and instead he'd behaved the way a friend would.
The deciding vote came from a whole different line of thinking, though. The wolf said they weren't going anywhere, and Rand was never disregarding that instinct-driven side of his soul again. His wolf had said they hadn't seen the last of Grey; that Rand should have gotten Dylef and Sheba settled with an established pack, and then hunted Grey down to avenge Sylvan's death. He hadn't listened.
So it was the wolf who answered Cai. Rand adjusted so his back feet were against Cai's bound side. He laid down, ears still flat and his warning growing in volume and ferocity, while all gleaming sharp teeth were on full display. He wasn't going anywhere.
The female vampire drew her own gun and fired.
The three vampires had been considering their options, and Cai had been sure none of them would be good. The only thing working in their favor right now was a few minutes of time. The vampires were more than a match for one wolf, but no one liked getting dog-bit. Anyone who watched reality cop shows, where badass criminals reacted to K-9 units like scared babies, knew that.
Then the female vampire used her weapon.
No, goddamn it. Fucking hell.
Rand's mind dissolved into gibberish, and his heavy furred body sank down on Cai. Adding weight to the barbed wire, not that Cai could even feel the pain. Adrenaline and horror rushed in together. She'd killed the wolf. Just killed him.
"Good timing, Tyra," Gold Hair said.
She sniffed and leveled a look at Chavez. He was sitting on the ground but feeding off the wrist of one of the servants, which would provide a swift patch to the wound Rand had inflicted upon him. Unless the wolf's saliva contained some kind of flesh-eating parasite. Too fucking much to hope for.
"You weren't the only one to bring reinforcements," Tyra told the Goth. "Lord Brian said these tranquilizers would slow a vampire down, but not kill him. I figure it should work on a big-ass wolf."
Okay, so there was a chance he was okay. Cai calmed enough to register that yes, Rand was breathing. He was alive, and wasn't giving off the signals Cai would be receiving, both through direct contact and the second mark, if he was badly injured.
Had Rand been trapped in some crazy loop of dog-loyalty thing? It was the only thing that made sense, because Cai hadn't done anything to deserve the male's championing like this.
Seeing how pale Chavez was felt good, though. The Goth hadn't expected a wolf to be such a match for him. Even now he was probably convincing himself Rand wasn't as strong as he'd seemed. Whereas Cai had no doubt, when Rand took the male down, he could have killed him. He wished he had. Only his defensive move to put himself between Tyra and Cai had likely stopped it.
Not the biggest and baddest things in the universe, are you, shitheads?
But much as he would have liked to see Chavez turned into wolf food, it was probably good Rand hadn't done it. If he'd killed the vampire, that would have suggested he was something other than just a supersized wolf. Hopefully, though these three didn't seem shy about using magical tools, they had no actual aptitude or sensitivity to the type of energy Cai could feel around Rand full time, suggesting he was something more than "just a wolf."
Chavez had struggled to his feet, weak but obviously determined to appear strong in front of his two companions. Not surprising, since Cai's experience was that vampires were more into cutthroat competition with one another than into becoming beer buddies.
Chavez approached and gave Rand a kick. It was his still healing side, and Rand made a whimpering noise, even while only partially conscious. Cai was going to rip the Goth's fucking nose rings out, puncture his anus with them, and watch him bleed out. "Good, he's out. We can leave him behind, Voltaire."
"No," Voltaire said. He was apparently Gold Hair. Cai had picked up on Rand's mental nickname for him. "He's more cooperative with him, so the beast may provide us leverage."
Voltaire dropped to his heels by Cai. "But leverage or not, Greenwald will get everything he wants out of you, Trad. Or you will suffer ten times what you'll suffer on the trip to him. We know what you and your people have done. There's no mercy for your kind. Not today, tomorrow or any other day. Pray your information wins you a quick death. That's your best hope now."
"I don't pray to gods," Cai managed. "Gods are just another set of pretentious bastards like you who think it's okay to fuck with other people's lives."
That earned him a kick. Then they were dragging Rand off of him, binding the wolf in a bunch of ropes. He and the shifter were put on separate, crudely put together litters that the servants dragged along through the fore
st until they reached one of those hiking trails wide enough for an ATV. Several of the vehicles were waiting. The litters were hooked to two of them, and they were pulled through the forest.
Every bump, every twitch of his body made the barbs gouge deeper into his wounds and fuck, it bloody hurt. Cai figured out they had a hold and release cycle. If he stayed still through the worst of the pain, the wires would ease up after about fifteen very long seconds.
He understood and could handle pain. So getting an occasional glimpse of Rand's inert body bouncing behind another ATV was the only distraction helping Cai keep his mind away from a different issue. But it was a fight he was starting to lose, against an enemy within.
Being restrained, being taken against his will somewhere, experiencing total loss of control, was a problem. He was helpless, and that feeling was what became a full-blown crisis, harder and harder to manage.
When they reached a deserted parking lot cloaked in full darkness and containing two vehicles, including a van, he reached overload. All that was holding him to the litter were ropes. They were letting the barbed wire do all the work. Voltaire's back was to him as he opened the van side door.
Okay. I'm fine. Okay. Not okay. So totally not okay. Not going to make me do anything, treat me like this. No one. No fucking one, never again. Okay, you want to die, let's die together, Rand. I'm cool with that. Ready, set, go.
He let out an abrupt roar and rolled, splitting the ropes with a snap. Bouncing off the litter, he landed against Voltaire. The golden-haired bastard fell, and Cai had the satisfaction of tearing his pretty Armani shirt with the barbed wire.
Then Chavez hit him with what felt like a hot stick, sending electrical current through the metal barbed wire bindings. Everything seized up; brain cells, vision. Voltaire snarled, since Chavez hadn't waited until he thrust Cai off of him to do it. It would make Cai snicker, when he could figure out how to align his top and bottom row of electrified teeth again.
