Chains of Darkness (Men in Chains #2)(53)
Author: Caris Roane

He intended to get in a few more. Despite the tremors in his hands, he bolted toward his father.

Then he saw something glint.

“Lucian!” Claire shouted. “He has a blade.”

He felt the slice deep into his gut. He grunted and gasped for air. He couldn’t breathe and now he couldn’t see.

Daniel twisted the blade. “I made the mistake of trusting others to kill Adrien and I failed. Now that you’ve reached Ancestral status, you’re a danger to all that I’m building. You need to die, and the great thing is that because you share the blood-chains with Claire, she dies with you.”

Daniel pulled the blade out as once more Lucian landed on the floor. He saw Daniel, blade in his fist, smiling at him. He felt his intention: His father would come for him again, probably to sever his head.

The next moment he couldn’t see Daniel, but Claire was beside him, her hands on either side of his face.

She forced him to look at her, then sent her words piercing his skull. Lucian, I’ve created a disguise, strong enough to hold Daniel off for a few more seconds. Which means you’ve got to fly us the hell out of this cavern. Straight up will do. Just do it now.

Tremors racked his body.

Daniel’s voice broke through the disguise. “You think you can hide from me, Lucian?”

How many times had he heard that in his childhood?

“Lucian! Now!”

Lucian let Claire’s orders reach through to his rational mind. The blood-madness had him trapped again, but despite the intense pain in his gut, he flew straight up. He heard Claire cry out in pain at the same time, though he had no idea why, but he had hold of her and he kept flying.

He focused as best he could on The Erotic Passage. He dropped straight into Rumy’s office, which set the alarms shrieking.

He heard Rumy say two things: “Put him in restraints,” and “Oh, shit, Claire’s been sliced deep.”

Chapter 12

Claire’s back burned.

Lucian.

Where was Lucian?

He had to be nearby and alive, because she wasn’t dead.

Something sharp pierced her arm first near her shoulder, a shot of some kind, then another needle into the vein inside her elbow.

Eve’s voice. “We’ve got him, Claire. He just needs some of your blood to get him through again. Focus on healing. Sleep now.”

Focus on healing.

Her back hurt and stung and burned.

Her mind grew dull, and she dropped off.

She awoke sometime later and felt a hand caressing her face. “Claire, I’m so sorry.”

She turned, but the turning caused a mountain of pain up and down her back. “What happened?”

“Daniel cut you deep but you’re healing fine.”

“We made it? We’re alive?”

“Yes, we’re alive. I have to take you to a safe place, though, and it’s going to hurt.”

She nodded. He gathered her up in his arms. Searing pain sliced through her. She started to cry.

Then she was flying and the pain sharpened so badly that she passed out.

She awoke again on a soft mattress, on her side. She heard sucking noises and felt pulls on her arm. Lucian. She smiled. You’re feeding. Good.

The madness came back so feeding was necessary, but the serum I’m releasing will rebuild your supply.

I know.

Focus on healing. Try siphoning more of my power straight to your wound.

Okay. She glanced around. But where are we?

My home in Uruguay.

She turned her mind toward Lucian’s power. With what was left of her pain-and-drug-riddled thought process she funneled Lucian’s power. The sensation of a warm wave rolling down her back eased her, and she floated away once more.

When she woke up, she rolled onto her back and stretched. She tensed up, expecting pain to grip her all over again, but nothing happened. Working herself slowly to a sitting position, she reached around as far as she could and she felt as much of her back as she could.

Nothing. No pain. Nothing.

“Lucian?” She glanced around. So this was his South American home. Opposite the bed was the most beautiful modern mural composed of red, yellow, and blue crystals with splashes of green. She stared at it for a long time, marveling all over again at the world she’d entered.

Lucian appeared in the doorway, sipping a mug of coffee. He leaned against the polished stone wall. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, and you’re not dead. How the hell did that happen? Your father, the sweet man that he is, gutted you.”

She glanced at his abdomen. The vampire wore the bottoms only to a pajama set and looked sexy as hell, but there wasn’t even a scar on him. “Wow.”

“Thank you.” His lips curved.

“I meant only that you should have a scar and don’t.” Her amusement bubbled.

“Ah, I see.” He moved into the room, smiling fully now, a nice look for him. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She shook her head, arching her back once more, which made her suddenly aware of her bare br**sts beneath the sheet so she let go of the provocative position. “I don’t hurt at all. I take it Daniel cut me pretty bad.”

“He could have killed you but didn’t. Instead, he flayed you open, one of his specialties.”

Claire had seen the thin scar that ran the entire length of Lucian’s spine. Only a repetitive injury in the exact same location could leave a scar on a vampire.

He sat down on the side of the bed. Without asking permission, she took the mug from him and sipped. He smiled again. “You’re not afraid of me, are you, not even a little?”

“No, never, Lucian. Not even with my ankles and wrists shackled.”

He shifted toward her and met her gaze. His gray eyes glimmered. He stroked the back of his finger down her arm but didn’t say anything. Not that he had to: The chains vibrated, letting her know what he felt.

Desire sparked, but she didn’t want to fall down that rabbit hole, not yet. She had some processing to do.

After taking another sip of his coffee, she handed the mug back, but he held up his hand.

“Is it to your taste?”

“Black is perfect.”

“I’ll get another mug for myself, then. Be right back.”

She watched him leave, enjoying the sight of his muscled back and tight butt as he moved. She wondered if she had more chores she could give him that would bring him in and out of the room, just like that, another hundred times or so. Watching could be fun.

She chuckled, but just as swiftly her amusement dimmed. She scooted back up to what turned out to be a leather-upholstered headboard, then bunched her pillows up behind her.