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He blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus. Another vampire he didn’t recognize walked up and kicked him in the stomach. The new pain had Marcus falling forward, barely catching himself as his hand sunk into the blood-soaked Persian rug. Damn. He’d always liked that rug and now it was ruined.
“Get the fucking manacles on him!” someone bellowed.
Marcus tried to sit up, but his head was spinning and his stomach ached so badly he was sure he was going to retch, but it would be blood and he couldn’t afford to lose more of it than he already had.
Metal chains clinked together, the sounds growing closer and closer. The person behind him grabbed one wrist and jerked it behind his back. Marcus tried to fight, but there was too much pain and his body was starting to feel listless and heavy.
A knife was pressed to his throat as a metal bracelet clamped down around his wrist.
“Behave yourself. We’ve got to get you home alive for the party.” The vampire holding the knife had green hair and was smiling at him like he was the best present she’d ever received.
“Fuck off,” Marcus grumbled.
His other arm was pulled behind him, forcing Marcus upright as it was secured as well.
His vision swam, but he forced his eyes to focus on the man walking through the remains of his front door. He had to blink a few times, but his first instinct was right. It was a man. Not a vampire. There was no collar around his neck, but he was working with the Black Wolf clan.
That didn’t make sense.
That clan hated humans. They viewed humans as food only. Not pets. Not comrades. Not friends.
The man was older with graying hair sprinkled in his brown buzz cut. Lines crisscrossed his face from what Marcus would guess was a life lived hard. Walking over to Marcus, he stopped a few feet away and leaned down with his hands behind his back. He was at eye level and all Marcus saw was raw hatred.
“I can see what that faggoty bitch saw in you. Guess he never really stood a chance,” the intruder muttered before he straightened.
“What? Who?” Marcus barely managed.
He didn’t pay him any attention as he looked over at Marcus’s captors. “Did you get the boy too?”
“We’re still searching the rooms, but it looks like one of the cars is missing. He might have gotten out. Run to one of the other brothers.”
The newcomer scowled for a moment and then looked at Marcus, a malicious grin spreading across his face. “That’s fine. Let him run. There’s only one brother left to capture, and he’s going to be the easiest of the four. And I just can’t wait to see Ethan again.”
Marcus’s brain was sluggish, but there were still enough brain cells firing to finally place the man’s words with his face. “Carl?” It was the bastard Ethan had told him about. The one who’d hit him.
Carl laughed, the sound harsh and ugly as it grated over Marcus’s ears. “Quite the mindfuck, isn’t it? I hope Ethan appreciates the surprise. It certainly won’t be the last one tonight.”
Marcus wanted to threaten this fucker. To threaten all of them to keep their hands off Ethan, but something heavy hit him in the head again. This time unconsciousness swallowed him whole, carrying him at least briefly away from the pain and his worries of whether Ethan made it safely to Bel’s house.
Before he drifted completely away, he had at least one secret to cling to. Beltran Varik was far from the easiest of the brothers to capture. These assholes were in for a very serious surprise as well.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ethan was shaking when he pulled up to the strangely modern house with lots of fucking windows. It looked like the last place a person would find a vampire. The building struck Ethan as more to Rafe’s taste than what he’d expect from Bel. But then Rafe was all about defiance, even of his own nature. He would not be stopped by a severe allergy to the sun.
For Bel, Ethan wondered if it was more about camouflage.
Fuck, he didn’t care. As long as he was safely at the house of one of Marcus’s brothers. Stumbling out of the car, Ethan ran to the front door and pounded on it. His heart was racing in his chest. He hated leaving Marcus, but he could only hope that he and Bel could get a hold of Winter and Rafe. Maybe even find Aiden. They could form a fucking posse or something to rescue Marcus.
The door was suddenly jerked open, and he was greeted with a frazzled looking Bel on the other side. His blue eyes swept over Ethan and then past him.
“Where—”
“They got him! Those motherfuckers attacked the house and they got him!” Ethan burst out.
