Bile rose in Anna’s throat. Was he dead? Her fingers tightened on her dagger, but it wouldn’t be wise to intervene now. She didn’t know who he was or what this place was. But it was bad.
The prisoner knew he wasn’t dead. He hurt too much to be dead. That was the only thing he knew about himself. That, and that he was a killer. He knew this because he was certain exactly how he’d kill the fat guard holding the whip if he could get loose from these chains and rid of the cloudiness in his head. A door slammed deeper in the dungeon, and he heard a roar. He’d heard it before. What in hell was this place? Maybe this was hell. Then he smelled it. Through the agony and darkness slipping over him, a light fragrance wafted on the air. He didn’t know how, but he knew that smell.
The guard loosened the chain attached to the prisoner’s shackles, and he fell to his knees. A cup was shoved to his mouth. “Drink.”
He wanted to refuse, but he was thirsty. He opened cracked lips and drained the cup. His body was shaking so half the contents ran down his chin.
“If you want to use the toilet, do it now.” The guard removed the shackles from his hands but left the long chain securing his feet to the floor. Still holding the whip, the guard forced him to his feet, then shoved him toward the strange pot in the corner. The prisoner stumbled into place and started to lift his kilt, and then realized he was naked. He took aim, as best as he could with shaking hands. Bloody hands. A memory pulled loose from the emptiness of his mind. A man lying on the forest floor with deep slashes running the length of his chest. The prisoner could almost smell the blood. The man moved, his eyes widening with recognition. Pleading. Pleading for what? Mercy?
The prisoner looked at his bloody hands again. Had he killed the man in the forest?
“You gonna piss or not?”
Through swollen eyelids he saw the guard leering. He always watched when he was naked or exposed. Bloody pervert. The prisoner managed a few drops, but it hurt too much to stand. He pushed the lever, this time too near collapsing to marvel at the water swirling as the pot emptied.
The guard forced him back to the wall and shackled his wrists, bumping the prisoner’s swollen finger. It was a clean break. It should heal in a few days if they would stop beating him. “Don’t cause trouble and I’ll give you double food rations tomorrow.” The guard’s voice was sharper than usual, his smirk replaced with a worried frown. “Make me look bad in front of the master, and as soon as he’s gone again, you’ll starve. I’ll tell him you’re failing his experiments.”
The prisoner slumped against the wall, wincing when his back grazed the hard stone. But exhaustion pulled at him stronger than pain. The burning in his body gave way to gooseflesh from the cold. With no windows, the only way he could guess the time of day was by mealtimes. It must be evening. The fragrance was still there. Did the guard not notice? The scent pulled at him, but he couldn’t place it. At the least, it took his attention off his raw back.
He cradled his head between the wall and his raised arm as he’d done for the last, what…fortnight? Longer? He’d lost track of time. As soon as he closed his eyes, the dreams would likely return. Maybe this time they’d tell him who he was.
Anna hid behind a statue and waited until the guard left the room. He was alone. The man he’d tortured was still inside. Alive? Dead? He’d closed the door, so she couldn’t see. The guard had to be eliminated. She didn’t know exactly who or what he was, but he was evil. He reeked of darkness and greed.
Her talisman wouldn’t work if he was a vampire. So she stepped out from behind the statue, raised her dagger, and let it fly. The guard turned at that moment, and the blade caught him in the shoulder instead of the heart. He let out a terrible roar, and Anna started toward him to finish him off.
“Stop,” a man ordered behind her, and a gun dug into the back of her skull.
“Stupid bitch!” the bald guard yelled. “Who the hell is she? No one’s supposed to be down here.”
“I got her.” The man moved around to her side, keeping the gun at her head. It was the skinny man she had followed. Neither of them appeared to have fangs. Maybe they weren’t vampires.
The guard yanked out Anna’s dagger and pressed his hand against the wound. “Shoot her if she moves.”
“Who are you?” the skinny man asked.
“And how the hell did you get here?” The fat guard nursed his wound. “Are you one of the new ones? You’re supposed to stay upstairs.”
“I followed him,” Anna said, motioning with her thumb at the skinny guy.
The guard frowned. “Lance? Where were you?”
His hand shook, but he covered it by changing positions. “Just went out to run an errand.” His voice sounded as shaky as the gun. He was lying to the guard.
“He was talking to someone, a tall man,” Anna said. “Very secretive. When he left, I followed—” The gun smashed into her temple, and everything went black.
Anna woke to shouts and the sounds of running. She lay on a stone floor. It was dark here. No sconces. She had no idea how she’d gotten here or how long she’d been unconscious. She didn’t feel any pain except for the violent headache from where the skinny guard had hit her.
“I think he went this way,” someone called.
She stood and tried to adjust her vision, but it made her head hurt worse.
“How did he get loose?” the fat guard yelled.
“I don’t know, but the master will flay us if he escapes.”
“There won’t be anything left of us to flay if this monster gets hold of us.”
Monster? Was he talking about the man he’d tortured? He hadn’t looked capable of escaping, much less hurting anyone. Anna listened to the sounds of the hunt, doors clanging and the guards shouting as she tried to get her bearings. She felt a warm breath on her neck and froze. She wasn’t alone. Whoever or whatever was behind her was close. Instinctively, Anna eased her hand toward her talisman. It wasn’t there. She lowered her hands, quickly but quietly checking to see if it could have fallen and caught on her gown. It was gone. A sick knot settled in her stomach. The guards must have taken her talisman and her dagger. She’d never lost her talisman, never even taken it off. A warrior was only half a warrior without her talisman.
“Who are you?” she said, keeping her voice calm.
No answer. Another warm breath. Closer? Her heart was pounding in her ears. If this was a vampire, she was screwed. Fists clenched, she slowly turned. The only think she could make out was a tall shape. Broad. Male. Definitely a male scent. There was something wild about the smell. Not quite human. The guards were yelling, coming closer. The shape let out a roar, and Anna threw a hard kick at his midsection. It didn’t connect. The darkness had swallowed him. She spun, straining to see him. Nothing. She heard breathing several feet away. Without her weapons, she wasn’t as effective, but she still had her senses, strength, and speed. She rushed toward the sound, and as she swung at his head, she saw another shadow dart past. There were two of them? She could see one of them now, and she struck. An arm reached out and grabbed her wrist, blocking her blow. She pulled free and went for him again. He ducked, but he wasn’t nearly as fast as before. Or he was a different one. One what?
She aimed a kick at his chest, and he let out a groan. Then arms grabbed her, locked around her, and she smelled blood. She heard sniffing. Was he crying? She hadn’t hurt him that bad. She’d just gotten started. The arms weren’t pinning her now. He seemed to be holding on to her to keep from falling…