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He was kicking at Voltaire, best as he could with his legs bound, and screaming incoherently at Chavez. From the Goth's wide eyes, Cai was confirming all their theories about Trads, the crazed, live-in-the-woods vampires who refused all trappings of civility, who didn't take servants, who killed their human prey rather than sipping on them like wine at one of their fancy fucking dinners.
You're not better than me, fucker. And you're going to be dead, really soon.
They hit him, hard enough to break bones. No problem. He was a vampire, they'd heal. He could handle this, but he had to get loose. He had to. He couldn't be helpless again or he would just fucking lose it.
Tyra was getting up and dusting off her taut ass, so he must have taken her down while rolling around with Voltaire.
Then, amid all that, Rand's mind reached out to him, and it was...calm.
Calm like quiet meadows and dark, starry nights. Cool breezes through thick fur, the soft call of an owl in the distance. He was in hunter mode. Still. Waiting. In control, even when that deadly ferocity waited, just below the surface.
Which reminded Cai he was a goddamned hunter, too. He wasn't a scared kid, or a frightened victim. His gaze darted to the wolf's body. It was still inert on the litter, Rand seemingly unconscious. Pull your shit together, he told himself. You're embarrassing yourself in front of the wolf.
My eyes are closed. Some grim humor, and a touch of seriousness, not just because of their situation but probably because Rand's wolf senses could tell how thin that layer of calm actually was for Cai. He couldn't get his mind off the bonds. He had to struggle, fight...
Breathe with me in that world, vampire. The bindings on you don't mean anything there.
Cai was going to tell him he didn't go for that New Age meditation bullshit, but truth, he was so spun up over feeling trapped, some part of him grabbed that calm voice and imagery like a life line. Even if Rand's tranquility were caused by groovy tranquilizer effects, Cai found himself trying to sync his breathing with Rand's as the male kept thinking that same mantra. Breathe with me. Bindings mean nothing.
It gave him the room he needed. Cai struggled for control and calm. He'd had to contain all of it for so long, so many years, he could find it again. He just needed loose from these bonds, he just...
Breathe. In time they'll release you. You know they will. Or we'll figure out a way to escape.
Or you break loose from your bonds, I roll over them like a barbed log, and we go down in a blaze of glory.
I think we should give Plan A a chance first.
"Why do you assume that's not Plan A? I give you a great chance to end it all, and you wimp out on me now?
Though wimp was not the word that came to mind, remembering Rand standing over him, a fully pissed wolf with death gleaming in his eyes and off his bared teeth.
Cai could calm down. The wolf made it possible. But before he could prove it to anyone other than himself, he lifted his head to see Chavez holding Tyra's tranquilizer gun. He shot the rest of the load pointblank into Cai.
They apparently mistook a tranquilizer for truth serum. After he and Cai were loaded into the van and on their way, the vampires took turns kicking and beating on Cai, asking him questions he never answered. Partly because he was in and out of consciousness, and partly because he had far more clever observations.
Like about Chavez's nose rings, the hair product Voltaire used, or why Tyra shouldn't wear a push-up bra. No reason to pump up Mount Rushmore, right?
Since Rand still felt like he was swimming in a fog soup, he admired the vampire's unrelenting smart-assery. He did use the gradual clearing of his mind to do some thinking about their situation, because it kept his mind off what they were doing to Cai that he couldn't stop. If he dwelled on that, his wolf would start struggling, which would help nothing.
He reminded himself that Cai could handle the chance to talk trash with his captors, better than the vampire could handle the reality of his bindings. The male's panic and anger had been curious. He'd seemed to do better once they'd started beating on him in the van, as if the distraction kept him from focusing on what seemed to bother him more than the torment--being trapped and unable to call the shots.
So though his human side was no less thrilled with what was happening to Cai, Rand forced himself to consider what options they had. He was sure Cai would have a smartass response to that.
Cai obviously had a gift for pissing others off, but this seemed more than that. He pissed off Rand, but not to the point Rand wanted to tie him up, torture and drag him off to see a top guy who was probably going to do more and worse to him. He'd picked up the gist of that during the first part of the beatings.
Holy God, could they get where they were going soon?
They'd bound Rand in ropes, tying his legs and muzzle, and dumped him toward the rear of the roomy van. They'd run ropes from his bonds to handles embedded in the sides and back so he couldn't turn over or see what they were doing, which sucked. He had the strength to rip those handles loose, he was sure, but it would serve no purpose right now except maybe getting him darted again.
If he shifted, it was likely he could get free even faster and do some damage. Still, it wouldn't be enough to give him good odds against three vampires in close quarters and their human servants, two of whom were following in another vehicle while the third one drove this van. Plus, at this point, they thought he was just a wolf. Cai could have told them he was a shifter, and he hadn't. Maybe because most vampires didn't believe shifters existed and Cai wanted to keep it that way. Or to leave it as an ace in the hole if it would come in handy for escape. Hard to know.
At some later time, Rand would puzzle over why the vampire had stuck his neck out for him and given him repeated attempts to take off, no help requested.
As for Rand being here, he'd already answered that. The good thing about his wolf side was it didn't analyze the crap out of things. Instinct had told him not to abandon Cai, so he hadn't. End of story. No great meaning, no need to analyze his feelings or his relationship with the vampire--and, er, fuckbuddy did not equal relationship. It was what it was. He didn't care if he himself lived or died, so why not tag along and see what was up with this? And yeah, maybe some of it was guilt, because when he'd gone after the Goth vampire, Cai had agreed to go along reasonably quietly if they didn't kill Rand.
Rand figured out they'd driven out of the West Virginia mountains, bypassed a few smaller towns and ended up in horse country Virginia. Though his being tied down kept him from seeing anything out the windows except what was straight up--the dark sky--they were cracked and brought him the tempting scent of well-fed horses. He imagined they were traveling through an area filled with nice brick mansions on multi-acre spreads, the glossy horses grazing on lawns enclosed by wide white picket fences.
At last, the sleek dark van bumped up the long driveway of one of the properties that didn't have horses. The lingering scent was there, but very old. When the van was brought to a halt, Chavez stepped over him and went out the back, leaving the double doors open. Rand saw a barn, which looked like it had been converted to living space, maybe guest quarters.
He heard a muffled grunt as Cai was jerked out of the van and dumped unceremoniously on the asphalt. They did the same to Rand, leaving his legs and muzzle tied, Voltaire shoving his bruised ribs with his foot to flip him over. That was when Rand finally saw Cai.
Ah, hell.
The vampire was a bloody mess. They'd struck his face and body repeatedly, with fists or blunt objects. Pain was a raw, red throbbing heat coming off him. Bastards.
It's all right. I'm a vampire. We're the best kind of punching bag. A blood meal and I'll heal right up. You okay?
Except for tranquilizing and tying him up, they hadn't done much of anything to Rand. He wanted to say Yeah, good, but he couldn't verbalize, even in his mind. So he did it in wolf speak. He stretched out his bound muzzle and brushed it briefly against Cai's upper arm. The vampire turned his gaze to h
im, lingered there briefly.
You're pretty impressive in that form, wolf. Try to tone down the gleam, so no one starts thinking about you as a fur coat.
"I told you to get Lord Greenwald," Voltaire said sharply as Chavez returned from the house. The Goth was still favoring the shoulder and wearing the bloody, torn shirt, but he looked even paler than when Rand had attacked him. He jerked his head like he had a nervous tic, though it apparently was an indication someone was coming behind him.
"The Council delegation arrived," he hissed in a whisper. "It's--"
