Page 38 of Haunted Nightmares
It’s up to her whether she survives my methods or not.
“Why did it have your location?” I kick at a pile of corpses on the floor as I walk toward the fireplace and grab a poker. Leaving my forearm against the mantle, I begin prodding at the ashes underneath the flames and sigh. “Perhaps you didn’t know it was following you, you had no clue that the smelly little goblin was there, and if I choose to believe you couldn’t scent its stink or pick up on the sound its clubfoot made when it walked, it still leaves the question ofwhy. Why was the troll following you?”
It leaves far more questions than that, likewhere did it come fromandwhat did it plan to do with a couple of vampiresbut neither of those can or will be answered, and they have nothing to do with Iris or my interest in her.
“I swear to Xenith, I don’t know why he was following me or how he knew where I’m staying.”
She coughs again then clears her throat but I ignore her attempts to keep denying any knowledge of the latest events as several things about what she said pique my curiosity further.
Swearing to Xenith, for one.
Atticus outlawed any mention of my technical great-grandfather, the creator god who was all but banished from existence regardless of whether or not he is why any of us are here. The only people who kept his name and doctrine alive have been Lorna and her little commune, and they’ve done so with my blessing and protection for centuries. Which means I’ve kept tabs on every single vampire in or out of that bayou so Iris swearing to him only makes sense since that’s where I took her from, but I was never made aware of her orNateentering it.
Looks like a discussion to have with the healer at some point.
Second and third red flags in what the female said?Following me, singular and independent from Nate, and referencing the bayou as a place she’s simplystaying. Not her home, not where she lives. Iris’s word choice made her the sole reason they were followed, which means shedoesknow why, and it isolated her from those people and that location whether she realized it or not. Which leads me to believe there is somewhere else—like a goddamn coven of witches or a place sacred to them—she considers home.
Liar, liar…
Grinning, I lift the poker into the flames, turning the iron slowly while watching the end flare with heat. “I think maybe I’m going about this all wrong.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“Kidnapping you before wading through the bayou while you were unconscious. Embarrassing you, forcing you into a state of undress in the middle of so many bodies, allowing the barely alive ones to watch. Slicing your porcelain skin with my claws, cracking the ivory with jagged, broken lines of red all while you were deprived of your sense of sight. I don’t think you fully understand why you’re here.”
I glance over my shoulder at Iris, the female uncomfortably bound to a wooden rocking chair with the headrest busted off. Her small body is marred head to toe with lacerations, some accompanied by bruises but most of them have already begun to heal.
And none of them were painful enough to get her to talk, intentionally so I suppose since it was more about making her sick over the state of my house as well as the anticipation of what I was going to do to her. She sat blindfolded and bound to that chair for three hours before I even made a sound, and that was after I made sure the dying Descendants watched her strip down to her underwear then nicked her jugular for them to scent.
Ancient vampires who are starving become rather feral at any sign of blood, and their weak attempts to get to her terrified Iris even more than me showing up on her doorstep and knocking her out.
It also happened to inflict more pain on those pompous arseholes as well, so two birds if you will.
Initially I wasn’t sure what my plan was outside of taking her, not really anyway but after the first question caused Iris to glitch almost immediately, things unfolded on their own. And since I’ve gotten absolutely nowhere, it’s time to take things up a notch.
“Did you eat it?” I ask quietly as the tip of the poker continues to heat. “Swallow it down in one bite?”
Iris shifts a little, the chair creaking as the duct tape squeaks against the aged wood. “Eat it?”
“Her soul!” I spin away from the fireplace, moving toward her lightning quick then point the hot metal to her throat. “Did you eat her fucking soul?!”
“Whose soul?” She cries out as I press it to her skin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“More lies.”
“I swear, I’m not, I’m not lying!”
Iris screams in pain as I roll the poker over her neck toward her shoulder, little bits of her flesh pulling away from her body and sticking to the iron, bright red blood trailing in its wake. “You are a soul eater, all of you are and the only explanation I have for your sudden presence in my life is the vile act of consuming hers!”
“Who?” She sobs. “Who’s soul?—“
“Show me!” I shove the fingers of my free hand into her mouth, wrenching her jaw open again then point the hot iron in her face. “Show me her soul, bitch, I want to see what gives you life.”
Her eyes fix to the poker, wide and unblinking as a lone tear rolls down her cheek, giving life to an idea that should have her talking.
I grin as I drag the metal over her chest, burning an x in her skin right over her heart as it begins to beat wildly against her ribs. Holding it there I look her over one last time then chuckle as I use my hand on her face to force the chair back until her hair brushes the floor.
The wood creaks and moans with each aggressive rock and as it goes back again I break the poker in two over my knee, then drop down to shove them under the curved parts of the chair, Iris’s feet now in the air, her body nearly parallel with the floor.
