“Like Dracula. That must be why Otherworld consigns them to the Sub-Realms.” Dredge had been on his way to being a Greater vampire, but he hadn’t quite made it. Which led me to wonder about Roman and Blood Wyne. Were they still considered minor vampires? My confusion must have shown on my face.
“Greater vampires possess something the rest of us don’t—a demonic spark. We’re all considered demons by the majority of people, but these creatures . . . they inherited more of the demonic energy passed down from when the Great Mother Kesana was turned. Remember the tale—she gave herself up to the demons in return for immortal life, and so she was born into vampirism. Most vampires never inherit much of the demonic side, but a few . . . a few do. And their powers far outstrip ours—even my mother’s.” Roman frowned. “The sooner we get him into the safe room, the better I’ll feel.”
“Bring him down, along with the remains of the Shelakig.” I motioned to the door and headed downstairs.
As I passed by the Varcont, he laughed. “We have her, you know. We have your pretty, pretty little werepuma, and can you imagine the things our Master might do to her? She is a delightful play toy.”
I froze, then slowly turned around to face him. Every instinct in me screamed to throttle him. “You’re going to tell us all about where you took her. You can make this easy, or you can make this rough. Your choice.”
“I’d rather tell you how loud she screamed when we caught hold of her.” He grinned, insolent and sneering, and leaned forward as much as his chains would allow. “You may have me, but I can withstand your tortures much easier than she can withstand our pleasures.”
That did it. I leaped forward, but Roman—who was standing right behind me—caught hold of me and yanked me back.
“Stop.”
“Let me at him. Please. Let me question him.” I knew exactly what I’d do to him, and it wasn’t pretty and it wouldn’t be something I’d ever tell my sisters. My predator was near the edge and if I let her out, the Varcont wouldn’t stand a chance against me. Not at my full rage. The energy seethed around me in a haze of red and I wanted to bathe in his blood, to rip him apart a little piece at a time until he gave up every single piece of information we needed.
“No, Menolly.” Roman glanced around, then motioned to Vanzir. “I will question him. Vanzir, you will come with me.”
Smoky cleared his throat. “I will go, too. We will find out everything we need to know.”
“Go where?” Camille stood on the edge of the staircase. She gave a quick look at the Varcont and backed away to the side. Delilah joined her. By now the other vamps had brought in the body of the Shelakig, in pieces.
“We’re going to have a little talk with the Varcont here,” Roman said. “And the three of you? Are not invited. I will not have you taking part in this . . . any of you. Smoky, you and Vanzir can help me. You are strong enough to withstand what we must do.” His voice was steel-cold, and his eyes were pale as frost.
I recognized the warning signals. Roman was about to go full throttle on the Greater vampire and he was going to pull out all the stops. I wanted to be there, but one look at his face told me he wouldn’t allow it—and he would pull rank as my sire if I insisted.
“But . . . Nerissa . . .”
“Nerissa is your love. He’ll use that to force you into a situation that—my love—you truly do not wish to be in. I will not have you becoming a monster just to defeat one. As much as Smoky and Vanzir and I care about Nerissa, we don’t love her the way you do. And that works to our benefit.” And with that, they hustled him down the staircase, Roman’s guards following as they carried pieces of the broken scorpion demon with them.
“Typical man. I’m strong enough to do this. How dare they push me out of the loop?”
“He’s right,” Delilah said, as the door slammed behind them. “You’re too close to the situation and the demon would use that to hurt you even more. It’s not because you’re a woman, it’s because you are vulnerable because of your connection to her. So deal with it and let them take care of the dirty work.”
I wanted to protest, but there was nothing I could say. I mutely jumped up to sit on the counter, staring at the door to the basement.
Derrick leaped over the counter and pulled two drinks for Delilah and Camille—simple shots of a spiced blackberry brandy. He handed me a bottle of our best blood.
“You all need a little fortification, I think.” He leaned on the counter, flipping a peanut into his mouth.