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The Hunter sneered. “What’s your plan now?”
Was the bastard taunting him?
“You think you’re safe? You think because I can’t break your mind, I can’t break you in other ways?”
“Pain means nothing to me.”
“We will see if that is true after I break every bone in your body. Again and again.”
The Hunter’s eyes flashed, the first hint of fear Julian had seen. “Didn’t you hear them? They will check on me tomorrow.”
Julian raised his wrist, his veins stark against his pale skin. “Our blood heals us. It will heal you, too. You will be good as new tomorrow.”
The Hunter lunged for him. Julian stopped him with one hand around his neck and slammed him into the wall. When the Hunter kicked, Julian caught his leg and broke his knee without hesitation. He settled into the cold, focused, and calm place within himself, the place he went during battle, where the screams of his enemies and allies didn’t matter, when all that mattered was survival. If he let himself hear the Hunter’s screams as he broke another bone, and another, then the next to die would be him.
You’re killing him.Marek’s toneless voice reached Julian’s rational mind.
Do you have anything for me?he asked, ignoring Marek’s admonishment.
The Hunter hadn’t given Julian anything other than screams. But he wasn’t deterred. The Hunter knew something. Maybe he won’t break the first time, but the second time, the third, when he knew what was coming, it would make the pain much harder to take.
We received a video. You need to see it.
Julian released the Hunter and refused to acknowledge the self-disgust as the human dropped to the floor like a broken doll. He would do anything to save his mate, even if he had to become the evil, soul-sucking monster in the Organization’s propaganda.
A video?
Yes. You won’t like it.
I’m coming up. Send someone to heal the human.
Julian sprinted up the stairs at top speed and arrived a few seconds later in the main security room for the city. From here, the technicians monitored all the cameras in Vegas. The room was about fifty feet by sixty, with groups of stations for each quadrant of the city. Marek stood behind the station for the Central Tower with a security analyst.
Several large screens made up one gigantic screen similar to a movie theater at the very front of the room. It displayed the camera feeds from the Central Tower, but all stations could share their screen on it.
“What did you find?”
Marek nodded to the vampire sitting in front of the computer. “Show him.”
“Yes, sir.” The analyst pulled up a video on his screen. “We received an email on our website.”
The video showed a dark room with silver metallic walls. A person was chained to the wall, spread-eagle. Ice balled in his belly when he recognized Leah. She looked more roughed up than when he saw her last, but thankfully, not that much worse for wear. The camera zoomed in to show Leah glaring into the screen.
“What are you doing?” The spitting fire in her eyes eased the terror squeezing Julian’s insides.
A tall, slender man in a well-tailored suit strode into view with his back to the camera. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m sending this to your vampire lover.”
“You’re wasting your time. He won’t come for me.”
“Hmm, I disagree. We saw just how much Julian Blackmore wants you back. Now be a good girl and stay quiet.”
A low growl escaped Julian when the man leaned over and kissed Leah on the forehead like a loving father. His claws itched to come out. To slice the man to pieces for touching his mate.
The man covered Leah’s mouth with duct tape. Julian clenched his fists as Leah struggled against the chains to no avail. Ignoring Leah, her captor turned to the camera. He was handsome, in a magazine model sort of way. Somewhere in his thirties. Sharp, angular cheekbones, a strong jaw, thick brown hair with hints of blond reflecting in the light, he had a smile women would call wicked while sighing dreamily, but to Julian, it was evil. Diabolical.
“Julian Blackmore, I am Dmitri Cantarelli.”
Julian recognized that name. Cantarelli was one of the oldest Hunter families. They hunted vampires before the Organization even existed. When the man laid a possessive hand on Leah’s shoulder, he swallowed a bellow of rage.
