“I know, master. That’s why I didn’t kill her. I figured you would want to know how she got here. I think she’s a warrior. She wears one of those necklaces.”
Tristol walked closer to the cell. He was tall, stunning, his body graceful but full of power. His eyes were dark as sin. A curl of something dark and sweet rolled through Anna, numbing her shock and fear. She wanted to move closer, to feel his presence. She grabbed the prisoner’s hand and felt him flinch when she touched the broken finger. She softened her grip.
Tristol’s gaze hadn’t left Anna. “That’s because she is a warrior. The most powerful female warrior in the clan. Hello, Anna.”
“You know me?” Anna was surprised. Rumor had it that Tristol was the Dark One’s favorite demon. What would he know about her?
“Of course I know you. May I ask how you breeched my fortress?”
Anna stepped beside the prisoner. She could feel the tension in his body. She held tight to his hand as she fought Tristol’s pull. “I followed one of the guards here.”
“It was Lance, master,” the guard said from behind Tristol.
“He wasn’t supposed to leave,” Tristol said.
“I told him that,” the guard said nervously, “but he had some errands. If you know the truth of it, I don’t trust him.”
Tristol glanced at the guard. “Did you kill him?”
The guard shuffled nervously. “No. I thought you’d want to question him too.”
“I do. Tell me, Anna, where you saw my guard.”
“Let us out and I’ll tell you.”
Tristol laughed, his perfect white teeth glistening.
Anna felt the pull again. It was bizarre to have a demon affect her this way. She hated demons. She was born to hunt and kill them.
“I can’t do that,” Tristol said.
The prisoner was staring at Tristol, muscles tensed. “What do you want with us?” he asked.
The ancient demon studied the pair. His gaze moved from their faces to their linked hands. “I need your help.”
“Our help? That’s why you’ve been torturing me.”
“Torture?” Tristol turned on the guard. “I told you to test him, not torture.”
The guard backed up. “He’s exaggerating, master.”
“Does this look like an exaggeration?” Anna asked, glancing at the prisoner, whose bruised face and bloodstained clothing gave testament to his treatment. “You should see his back.”
“That’s because he tried to escape,” the guard said.
“Liar,” the prisoner said.
Tristol was very still. So still it made Anna afraid. The guard was shaking in his boots. Tristol turned toward him, whispered something, and left.
The guard stood in front of the prisoner’s cell, his manner docile. “Time for another trip.”
The prisoner’s body tensed. “Move back and be quiet,” he whispered to Anna, and then he stepped away from her, toward the door.
“Not you,” the guard said. “Her. Let’s go.”
“No,” the prisoner whispered. He gripped Anna’s hand so hard it hurt. “No!”
The guard opened the cell and took out his gun. “Now.”
The prisoner kept his body between Anna and the door. “No. Take me.”
The guard pointed his gun at Anna. “Get out of the way, or I’ll shoot her. You think she’d be just as pretty missing a finger or a toe? Maybe an ear.”
Anna pulled her hand free and touched the prisoner’s arm. “Please.” If he didn’t stop, they would hurt him again. She was afraid he couldn’t withstand another beating. “I’m coming.” You fat toad. She went to the door and slipped out. The guard locked it as the prisoner rattled the bars.
“Take me!” he roared. “You bloody bastard.”
“Not this time,” the guard said.
The minute Anna stepped outside, she turned on the guard. She spun and kicked him in the crotch. He doubled over, and Anna lunged for his gun, but the guard quickly recovered and jumped out of reach, pointing the weapon at her head.
“Stop,” the prisoner pleaded.
Anna took her eyes off the angry guard and looked at the prisoner. His eyes were desperate. “Don’t fight him. He’ll make it worse. I beg you.”
She clenched her jaw and let the guard march her toward the torture room. She glanced back and saw the prisoner pulling against the bars.
Tristol watched from the shadows as the warrior tried to bend the cell bars. His muscles bulged, and one of the bars gave. Magnificent. Tristol smiled. This was what he wanted to harness. Even brutalized—and the guard would pay for taking it too far—the warrior was powerful and fiercely loyal. He would fight to the death for Anna. Both were characteristics Tristol hoped to breed into his vampires.
And Anna was a surprise. A pleasant one. She had a body and face that would bring human males to their knees. Tristol wasn’t usually attracted to human females, but this was the closest he’d gotten to Anna, and he had to admit that she was one of the most stunning of any species that he’d seen. Even imprisoned, with her gown torn and dirty, she exuded beauty, power, and grace. But that beauty was wrapped in fury now. If not for the gun, the guard would already be dead instead of nursing sore balls.
Both warriors would have to be moved. Tristol didn’t trust the bars or his guards now. It was obvious that Bart was lying. He would pay for abusing the experiments. Lance would pay too. It was time to take charge of this experiment. The outcome was too important to let anything stand in the way, even the Dark One’s frequent summons, which were interfering with Tristol’s plans.
The breeding plan had been twofold. Feed his vampires some of Faelan’s blood to strengthen them and then breed the warrior with his most powerful female vampire. If the outcome was successful, he would gather more warriors. He hadn’t planned to use female warriors yet, since they couldn’t produce as many children as quickly. But since Anna was already here, why waste the opportunity? He would breed her with one of his male vampires. There was no one quite like Anna. No one with her pedigree, though she didn’t realize it. He had only discovered it himself recently. If he could combine her strength and prowess with that of his strongest male vampire, the results could have great potential.
A roar sounded down the corridor, and Tristol had a brilliant idea. His hybrid had some vampire blood, but was still mostly human. Tristol hadn’t been able to determine his ability to reproduce since the hybrid killed all the female vampires as soon as they were brought to him. There was more warrior blood in him than vampire blood. Perhaps he would recognize Anna as a fellow warrior and not kill her. With Anna’s genetics and the hybrid’s, a child born to them could prove to have extraordinary abilities. If the plan succeeded, then he would give her to his best male vampire. Or keep her for himself.
He hadn’t created his own offspring because a child could become a weak link. Most ancient demons avoided procreating for the same reason. The other demons would use the child against the father. Especially in his case. All demons were bitterly jealous of his position. But two of the League were gone. After Voltar was destroyed, Tristol would have greater freedom to pursue his goals.
In a black mist, he moved to the cell where the warrior was still struggling to break free. “Calm yourself,” he said to the warrior. He didn’t want him injuring himself to get to Anna.
The warrior had no choice but to stop moving, but his face was still filled with rage. Along with the swelling, he made a frightening sight.
“Sleep. You will need your rest.”
The warrior tried to fight it, but his eyelids started to droop, and he leaned against the wall.
“Sleep,” Tristol said again, and when the warrior slumped to the floor, he went to catch up with the guard and Anna.