The walls floor, even the ceiling seemed to be made of stone. A single door was set into one wall, but the man stood between her and that avenue of escape. The only possibility she could see was a tall candelabra holding a couple of flickering tapers almost within reach.
A faint smile touched the vampire’s bloodless lips. “Why, to eat you, my dear.”
“Very funny,” she said. “Ha ha.”
He showed her his fangs. Jessica felt her heart stand still. “My, what big teeth you have.”
Mordecai smiled thinly. “The better to drink your blood,” he responded wearily, beginning to feel some annoyance at her flippant responses.
“I don’t think so,” she said and leapt toward the candelabra, grabbing it. She discovered she couldn’t lift it.
“It’s bolted to the floor,” Mordecai said dryly.
Not to be outdone, Jessica grabbed the tapers and threw them at him. He raised an arm to shield himself. Once she’d distracted him, she dashed past and threw open the door. Beyond lay utter blackness. She ran down the smotheringly dark corridor, blindly feeling the walls for guidance. Her breath, rasping in and out of her lungs in fear, deafened her to pursuit, but she thought she detected little whispers of sound, like the tiny scurrying feet of rats.
The corridor ended abruptly in what seemed to be a far larger room than the one she had left behind. She couldn’t know that for certain, but she sensed a vast emptiness and damp currents of air swirled through the room.
She paused, catching her breath, trying to listen for any sounds of pursuit. She wasn’t really comforted when she could hear nothing. After a moment, she began fumbling her way through the room, feeling the walls, searching for a door. Her heart leapt when she found one at last. Excitement flooded her when the knob turned under her hand. It was dashed in the next moment when she opened the door and discovered only another corridor--this one lit by a single, flickering torch.
Glancing uneasily behind her, she discovered that the room she had just traversed was filled with coffins.
The hair stood on the back of her neck. Jessica shuddered and strode down the corridor, her shadow casting long before her, melding into the darkness that swarmed the sides of the hall. The corridor turned in a sharp corner and ended with another door, leading into another small, empty room. On one end, heavy velvet drapes covered an opening. Faintly, Jessica could see light filtering through the curtains. Certain that she had discovered a window and the means of escape, she rushed to it, throwing the curtains aside. To her dismay, she discovered the drapes concealed another open doorway.
She was seized by two men the moment the curtains parted. Jessica struggled to free herself, but their hands were as unyielding as manacles around her arms. They dragged her deeper into the room, past huge candelabras filled with lighted tapers.
Ahead of her, she saw a stone throne on a dais. Mordecai was seated on the throne.
He did not look happy.
“Let me go!” she screamed, lifting her feet from the ground, trying to break their hold. They led her inevitably to the dais, unfazed by her continual struggles. They stopped, releasing her to her own feet and stepping back just enough to quash any ideas she’d have of making a run for it.
“What do you want with me?” she asked him again. He’d deliberately allowed her to escape, only for the pleasure of capturing her again--and tormenting.
Mordecai tapped his fingers on the arm of the throne in impatience. “You are not as valuable to me as you seem to think.”
Jessica swallowed. If anything, her situation was worse than she originally thought.
“Then why keep me here?”
The vampire stood, slowly taking a step down and then another, until he was inches from her. “Bait. I seek your Lycan lover ... and others should they be foolish enough to come.”
“He’s dead,” she said, feeling sick with the words. Her mouth felt tainted uttering them. Her heart pinched painfully. “You’re too late.”
“On the contrary. He is coming for you.”
Oh god, no! She would be his downfall. Everything that had happened to them--him--had been because of her. Gabriel would come, and he would die trying to save her.
Mordecai’s hand snaked out and snatched the necklace from her neck. He held the large medallion in his palm. His eyes glittered. “What is this?”
“Protection from werewolves,” she said weakly. What she’d needed was protection from vampires too. She thought wistfully of Mikel’s, brimming with weapons for fighting the undead.
“A useless trinket.” He chuckled, throwing the medallion away. It skittered on the floor and vanished from sight. He caught her with one arm, forcing her against his body, digging his free hand through her hair to grip her scalp. Jessica gasped and tried to fight him, wincing as he discovered the wound she’d sustained earlier. His grip on her hair tightened, forcing her to arch her head deeply to the side.
The blood rushed to her head, pounding with the frightening knowledge of what he was going to do. And there was nothing she could do to stop him. She closed her eyes and screamed when the fangs ravaged her flesh.
Gabriel knew before the night was out, many Lycan would die. He regretted it, regretted the necessity of this action, but there was no other choice. If they did not take a stand now, they would be wiped out in their entirety--as a whole at once, or one by one.
By the next evening, when the moon climbed high in the sky like a warped pearl, they were ready.
Some drove to the meeting place, others walked, but all told, over two dozen showed up at Vieux Carre for the showdown. The streets were strangely empty, as though the people sensed something massive was going down.
Their excitement infected the air, crackled between them, connecting them with a hidden energy.
Gabriel led the pack. His rage had not abated in the many hours since first hearing of her abduction. He seethed with fury, angered at himself and them for their daring, so much so that he feared he would be no help to Jessica whatsoever.
They traversed a narrow, dirty alley, keeping watch above for ambush as they made their way to the back of the building. The entrance to the underground was there.
There was a garden in the back, with a fountain as centerpiece, spraying water with a soft gurgle of sound. It appeared tranquil, like the home of some wealthy, upstanding citizen, surrounding by other upstanding neighbors.
Gabriel wondered just how many knew what atrocities went on in the townhouse before them.
A vamp at the back entrance motioned them forward, holding the door open for them. They left a few men behind for backup to go for help should they need it, not that he expected there would be a need. They lived or died, there would be no second chances.
The vamp let them in without question. Had Gabriel been in any doubt it was a trap, his suspicions were now confirmed. He knew better than to expect them to keep their word--not with the way things had progressed in the past few months. Either the vampire force far exceeded their own ... or they were foolishly confident and on equal footing.
Another vamp waited inside, leading them down corridors into the belly of the earth.
He did not bind their eyes or dowse the lights.
The vampires didn’t expect the Lycans to leave.
He caught the faint scent of old blood. For decades, victims had been lured to the Devil’s Belly, never to see light again. The cold stone was oppressive. The stink of vampires permeated the walls, like the dried husks of roses--a sickly sweet stench, unnoticeable by any but the most sensitive.
They were led through labyrinthine corridors of reinforced stone, finally to a throne room, barren of anything save candelabras filled with glowing candles, a raised throne, and vampires. Dozens of vampires.