Was he insane? Melly shouted at him, Don’t goad her!
Justine laughed. “Oh, I’m not done with you, darling. I’m only just getting started. That was just to get the scent of your fresh blood in the air.” Raising her voice, she called out, “Open up the gate!”
As Julian’s frowning gaze met Melly’s again, a metallic clang sounded from down the tunnel, and moments later, Vampyre Guy appeared. Julian’s fangs sprang out, and he snarled at the other male.
Despite Julian being in chains, the sight of his full, naked aggression was so overpowering, Melly took a step back from the bars. Vampyre Guy pretended to be unaffected, but she noticed he was careful to keep Justine’s body between him and Julian.
Followed closely by Vampyre Guy, Justine left Julian’s cell and propped the door open wide. Then the two Vampyres walked into one of the empty cells. After Justine closed the door and locked it, she pulled something slender out of her pocket and put one end in her mouth.
A high-pitched, piercing whistle speared through the air.
“Oh gods, no,” Melly whispered.
Snarling came from down the tunnel, along with the sound of running footsteps.
Many footsteps.
She flung herself against the bars, shouting, “No!”
Ferals flooded the tunnel. Some lunged toward her, forcing her to leap back again. Others found their way through the open cell door. Over the tops of the ferals’ heads, Melly caught a glimpse of them on the inside of the bars in Julian’s cell.
She couldn’t see anything else, but she could hear things all too well.
An explosive snarling that gradually quieted.
Then that shuffling, or scraping sound she had first heard, as the Vampyres fed.
Five
A
fter what seemed a hellish eternity, the whistle sounded.
Melly had moved to crouch in her corner, behind the cot, where she rocked with her hands cupped over her ears, but even though it muffled the sounds somewhat, the whistle still penetrated. Pushing to her feet, she turned to watch the crowd of ferals.
This time, they were slow to respond. The whistle sounded again, sharp and piercing, and something cracked the air. It sounded like a whip.
Growling, the ferals retreated. As Justine appeared, Melly realized the other woman actually did have a whip. Once again, Justine cracked the whip across the ferals nearest to her, and they cowered away.
If Justine had really been the one to create the ferals, Melly could almost feel sorry for them.
Almost.
That was until she looked across to Julian’s cell and sickened rage replaced all other emotion.
He hung limp in the chains, his head hanging forward and his powerful body bloody and lax. Wiping at her wet cheeks, she said, Julian? Please say something.
He didn’t answer.
Her eyes kept watering and obscuring her vision. He couldn’t be dead. If he were dead, he would collapse into dust. There would be nothing left of him at all. Nobody to rage against. Nothing but the memory of the brief, bright warmth they had shared followed by years of bitterness.
Unable to maintain any anger toward him in the face of this horrible nightmare, she was left feeling a sharp pain and a sadness so dark it threatened to engulf her.
Justine and Vampyre Guy followed the ferals down the tunnel, and the sound of an iron clang rang against the stony walls. Moments later, they reappeared. They must have shut the gate to the tunnel again.
Fixing her gaze on Julian, Justine said to Vampyre Guy, “Clean up this mess.”
Ducking his head, he got to work, packing up the laptop and various items.
As Justine went into Julian’s cell, Melly said hoarsely, “Haven’t you done enough for one visit?”
“Maybe I have. Maybe not.”
“Leave him alone!”
Justine lifted Julian’s head to look into his unconscious face. She let his head fall again. “Oh, very well. They drained him pretty deeply. He’ll need time to recover enough so I can do it again.”
In that moment, Melly had never hated anybody as much as she hated Justine.
She forced herself to take deep, even breaths and think more or less logically. The torture session was over, at least for now, and the sooner Justine and Vampyre Guy left, the sooner she could pick her way out of her own cell and help Julian.
But she was feeling shaky from lack of proper food, too much stress and not enough rest. How much blood could she give Julian when she was like this? While she did have a little of her food stash left, a candy bar and the small bag of nuts, this situation was desperately unstable, and she needed to hold on to as many of her meager resources as she could.