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The Norseman has said nothing to her greeting yet, but for once, she doesn’t let the silence sit. ‟The bargain is simple… you hand over the rotten vampire that did all the murders so I can dispose of him once and for all, and you get him.” She nods towards me as if I am an especially juicy price. Right, she hasn’t heard the news about Andrew’s death yet.
And surprisingly, the Norseman doesn’t tell her. Instead, he eyes me as if he’s never seen me before. ‟And he is…?”
Her smile turns unpleasant. ‟That there is your pet vampire’s lover.”
BOTH VAMPIRES’ REACTIONS to Asha’s words are visceral; Sören jerks back from me and flips the safety on his machine gun, as if I suddenly sprouted horns. And the Norseman turns to look at me with an almost hungry expression of utter rage.
When he turns his attention back to Asha, he sounds almost dazed by his unexpected stroke of luck. ‟The Spaniard does not have a lover,” he growls. ‟That creature is not capable of love anymore.”
I bite my lip to keep quiet, swallowing down that little protesting voice inside of me that is outraged on Cor’s behalf. Of course he can love! He loves me! But… does he? Sure, he seems to have feelings for me, but something grand and powerful as love? He never said it. He never even said he liked me. That might be because he is a man of no words in general, but except for some bouts of possessiveness and that electrifying kiss-and-grope, were there any grand gestures?
‟Lover, not beloved,” Asha corrects with a tight voice. ‟I wouldn’t dare guess the depth of romantic notions for either of them, but I know that Gideon here,” she nods towards me, ‟came running when he thought your pet was in danger. And that your pet will come running when he thinks Gideon is in trouble. Doesn’t need to be true love to be useful.”
And that is the sad truth. Unsure as I am about Cor’s intentions, I am dead sure he will come to save me. He almost followed me into the Norseman’s lair just yesterday, and that was when I was not in any obvious danger. If Cor somehow saw Asha kidnap me tonight, he will play cavalry. And he will lose the battle, get captured, end up in a box, and probably never see the light of day again. Especially if whatever evil plan Asha has comes to fruition, and she manages to kill off everyone who knows about Cor. Seems like I have little to lose, now that I think of it. It’s not like they will shoot me now that they know I am worth something.
I look at Egil and try to make him turn to me by sheer willpower. ‟Don’t trust her. Don’t listen to her. She is setting up a trap for you,” I snarl, ducking a little when Sören tries to slap the back of my head. ‟She’s working with the cultists!”
The second backhand hits me and makes my ears ring, but through the little stars dancing across my sight, I see the Norseman’s piercing eyes as he glares at me. ‟I did task you with bringing my pet back to me, did I not? I shall see this as you doing your part,” he says carefully, slowly, as if afraid what would happen if he lets go of that tight control of his. He is nothing like the last time I saw him. The sheer mention of the possibility of Cor being back in his possession has made him dangerously unhinged. There is no arguing with a crazy man, and even less with a crazy vampire.
Still, I have to try. ‟Don’t do this, don’t fall for her offer,” I plead, my voice barely a whisper as I stare into the Norseman’s cold eyes.
There is no trace of the mortal man he once was left in there, just a ruthless predator who will do anything to get what he wants. And everything about him screams obsession. Like he wouldn’t mind burning down everything he has if he can just get his hands back on Cor.
My eyes flicker to Asha for a heartbeat, taking in her low smirk until she notices my gaze and wipes all emotion off her face. She knew this vampire lord would react like that. She knew, and Arzel knew. That’s what getting their hands on Cor was all about: Forcing the Norseman to run after his pet and be too preoccupied to pay attention to the cultists. Such a stupid plan, but it works like a charm so far.
I’m not willing to give up yet, though. ‟Please listen,” I beg once more, trying my best not to struggle against the handcuffs. ‟Is Cor really more important than a fucking demon-summoning cult right under your nose? That doesn’t make sense and you know it! What did you think they were doing, trying to get their hands on Cor’s amulet? They don’t care about some vampire prisoner. They wanted him to get to you, and they are succeeding!”
The Norseman’s lip curls up in a sneer, and Sören grabs my hair to pull me up and back until it feels like he’s scalping me with bare hands. ‟You have no say in this matter,” he growls and walks closer, leaving Asha at his back like a moron.
At least Sören now turns his attention to her, machine gun at the ready.
Egil leans down so that our faces are only inches apart, hovering over me like the sword of Damocles. It’s a long way down for him. ‟I am not afraid of the likes of you. I have hunted and killed cultists since before your entire society emerged, and you think I am in danger now, from this half-assed attempt to trick me? You are just a mere human whose life means nothing. You mean nothing.”
‟But Cor means something to you,” I argue desperately, trying to appeal to whatever humanity might be left inside him. ‟He means enough to you that you are getting blinded by the off-chance of getting him back. You are running face-first into a trap that will kill you, because you will be too busy looking for your god-damned pet to pay attention to the knife at your back!”
The Norseman’s expression falters for just a moment before he regains control and turns icy. ‟I have heard enough out of you,” he snarls through gritted teeth.
He turns away from me with a hard jerk and stomps closer to Asha. “We have a deal. I will hand over information on my stricken clansman as soon as I have Cor in my hands,” he growls and waves at Sören over his shoulder. Before I can protest, I am being dragged out of the room and back down to the main hall.
And the last thing I see is Asha smiling at me before the door swings closed.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I FIND MYSELF back in the main factory hall, this time on a creaky wooden chair, hands still in cuffs, feet tied to the chair legs, one loop of the rope leading between the handcuffs and the backrest to keep me from catapulting myself out of my seat in some attempt at moronic heroism. I let Sören do what he wants; I’m too busy watching movement around the hall. Other vampires are lurking in the shadows, their eyes trained on me, ready to pounce at any moment. They are here to capture Cor, and I am just a pawn in their game.
But where is Cor? Is he even on his way? I hope not. I hope he stays away as far from me as possible right now, no matter what happens to me. I am the bait in a trap meant to capture Cor, who in turn is a trap meant to kill his master, who is the only thing standing between some good times demon summoning and Babylon City. Feels like it would be my fault and my fault alone if Asha and Arzel get what they want.
Not that I plan to lie down and die, even if Cor stays gone. Problem is, I am alone, outnumbered, and completely at the mercy of these bloodthirsty creatures. All I can do is wait and hope for a distraction big enough to give me a chance to escape.
My mind races with ideas for escape routes, plans, openings, helpful information from the Hunter’s handbook, but I have the sinking feeling that it is futile dreaming. The ropes and cuffs are too tight, and even if I could somehow break free, I would be no match for these vampires. I am trapped, and there is no way out. For now.
The minutes tick by as the vampires more or less disappear into their hidey holes, each moment feeling like an eternity. My heart doesn’t care and keeps happily—anxiously—pounding in my chest, forcing beads of sweat onto my forehead.
An eerie silence settles over the building, broken only by soft creaks and whistling winds. The neon lights on the roof beams provide weak illumination, casting enormous shadows behind pillars and in corners. I am left alone, waiting for my fate to be decided by higher powers. As time passes, the tension in the room grows thicker. I can feel it weighing down on me, suffocating me with its heaviness. My mind races with thoughts of escape and survival, but my body remains paralyzed by fear and helplessness.
Cor inevitably makes a reappearance to my brain, sending a sharp sting of longing through my chest. Longing for a virtual stranger, who has somehow dug himself into my chest and made a home in my heart. What if Stanley is right, and what I am feeling is nothing but addiction to venom? Then Cor wouldn’t walk into this inevitable trap, because then the feelings would be one-sided. My heart latches onto that thought and grips it tight. Please don’t come, please don’t come,…
There is a soft, swishing sound to my far left, so low that I am not sure I even heard anything at first. It makes me break out in goosebumps, even though I have no idea what it is. I don’t turn my head towards the source at first. It’s the second noise from the same direction, a short, cut-off gasp, that proves I didn’t imagine things. This time I turn my head because how can I not? But there is nothing there, only darkness and a flickering neon light.
