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“Hunger,” he supplied immediately, lifting his head to Max. His face was sunken, his eyes dull. “It deteriorates not only the body, but the mind as well.”
“Why are you chained?” Max asked, recognizing the silver shackles that bound his feet to the wall.
“Because I am your father’s prisoner.”
“Why?”
“Only a madman would understand Maximilian’s reasons.” Kyros began to hack, a grating cough that spoke clearly of a lack of water.
“You said you’d tell me who I am.”
Kyros lifted his gaze to him, and the silver-blue swirled knowingly before he replied, “I said I’d tell you what you need to know. I only know you are your father’s son.”
“Then why am I here?”
“Because you’ve been imprisoned as well,” Kyros retorted, and Max considered his own reply. Imprisoned? Yes, he’d been imprisoned, by the witches.
“You were in the cell across from mine,” Kyros continued weakly. “I went to sleep and awoke to your screams.” He swallowed. “I didn’t know you were his son at the time.”
Max shook his head. He remembered…silver. Someone cutting him with silver, and burning pain.
“You’re lying.”
Kyros’s chuckle was hollow. “I have no need to lie, Max. I’ll soon die, and your father will win. One less warlock to kill.”
“Why would my own father torture me?”
“I could not answer that. I’ve long since wondered why it is he keeps me half-dead.”
Kyros’s head slumped back against the wall, and Max took pity.
What do you need?
I doubt you will be willing to give it.
“What do you need?” he repeated, and this time he spoke aloud.
“Your wrist,” he finally said, and Max drew back, horrified.
What?
I gave you my blood, Max, so that you would live. If you will not give me your vein, will you do me one better and take my soul?
Take his soul? Even as the thought sounded strange to Max, he felt an answering hunger in the pit of his belly. Souls. Blood. Food.
Kneeling beside the man, he took his head into his hands and stared into his eyes. Eyes similar to his own.
Do it. End my misery.
He placed his wrist against Kyros’s lips, and saw surprise enter the warlock’s eyes moments before razor-sharp teeth completely punctured his skin and vein.
Fucking hell! That hurt. He continued to repeat that curse over and over in his head, feeling gratification as he did so, until finally, after what seemed like hours but was barely a minute, Kyros pulled away. He felt another sting at his wrist, and looked down. It was chewed raw, but before his eyes, the pale blue skin was meshing back together, healing over the wound.
Max stumbled back, catching himself against the wall, and shook his head. He felt light-headed.
“It will pass,” Kyros chimed in, and then added, “Thank you, Max.”
The dizziness had passed and Max was about to launch into another round of questions when he heard a pitiful sound. He spun around, eyes searching the darkness for a small, wounded animal.
“It is not here. The cell over. Maximilian has captured a human.”
Max turned back to Kyros. “Why?”
“Because he is an evil man, Max. He is your father, but he is also capable of atrocities beyond your understanding.” He shook his leg and stood, pacing the short distance he was allowed by the silver chain.
“Can’t you break it?”
Kyros shook his head. “It’s silver. Our very own Achilles’ heel, thanks to an unfortunate gene passed down from vampire ancestors.”
“Where is the key?”
“I don’t know.”
The sound came again, and Max turned in the direction of it.
“Please. I don’t want to die.”
It was a hoarse whisper, and Max wondered why his father would need to torture a human? He heard crying, soft crying as if the tortured woman understood it was useless.
“How long has she been here?”
“A few days. She won’t last much longer. Humans never do.”
Max was saddened to hear that. Who the hell was his father, really? Torturing human females? Even without a memory to fall back on, Max knew that was wrong.
He looked back down to Kyros’s foot. “I’m going to find the key.”
“It’s too risky.”
“Please help me,” the voice came again, and Max turned to the wall, as if he could see through it to the woman on the other side. The voice was much softer when she whispered, “Oh, God, please help me.”
He’d closed his eyes before he knew what he was doing, and briefly heard Kyros say, “No, Max. You can’t project yourself into a place you haven’t seen. It’s dangerous.”
