Elise hadn't seen her sire in months. That wasn't unusual, except in this case, Mencheres had been the one to keep himself secluded away. One glance showed that the toll from the recent war that resulted in Mencheres's long-estranged wife being killed still hung over him. Physically, Mencheres looked the same. His waist-length black hair was just as lustrous, his creamy skin still held the amber tint of his Egyptian heritage, and his features were as handsome and regal as ever. But sadness clung to him in a tangible way, making the familiar lines around his mouth seem more likely to form a frown than a smile.
She hugged him, feeling none of her normal aversion to close contact. At the feel of his arms around her, the same peace washed over her that Mencheres always inspired. Father, I've missed you.
When he let her go, Elise touched his face. "You look terrible." Mencheres gave her a strained smile. "True, but I will be better in time." All things heal with time, he'd told her shortly after turning her into a vampire. Elise still wasn't sure she believed that, but things did numb with time, at least.
"Tell me about the man," Mencheres said.
Blake wasn't there; Bones had taken him directly to the basement, where the vampire cell was located.
Every permanent vampire residence had a reinforced room for confining new vampires while they fought to control the initial blood craze. If a new vampire couldn't break out of it, Bones had reasoned, neither could a demon.
"He's back to himself now," Elise replied, shuddering at the memory of their hours-long car ride. The demon had continued to torment Cat by mimicking her grandparents' voices on what had - apparently
- been the scene of their murder by vampires. Bones couldn't keep his hand over the demon's mouth the entire time, either. Not with the demon biting Bones and trying to drink vampire blood off the wounds. Or choking when Bones gagged him. Several times, Elise had worried that Bones's temper would snap, and he'd kill Blake, but they'd all made it in one piece, though Cat was still outside composing herself.
Mencheres studied Elise. She looked away from his probing gaze. Finally, a heavy sigh came from him.
"You've come to care for the human."
It wasn't Mencheres's mind-reading skills that betrayed her. Those only worked on humans, not other vampires. Mencheres just knew her too well.
"It makes no sense," Elise admitted. "He has no value in this world, no reason to go on. Plus, he wants to die. But I was like that, too, once. Maybe more than once." The silence stretched between them, filling with the unspoken memory of their history. Mencheres didn't need to be reminded that Elise had also been desperate to die when she was human. After all, it was how they'd met.
"I will try," Mencheres said at last. "But there may be nothing that can be done." Elise laid her hand on her his arm. "Sire... father...thank you." Mencheres's dark gaze was bleak. "You may not thank me when this is over." The metal clamps bit into Blake's wrists, ankles, and waist. Bones had shackled him to the wall in a way that let Blake know the vampire wasn't concerned whether he was bruised in the process. Add the green glinting in Bones's eyes and the fangs curving where normal teeth had been, and Blake knew he was staring death in the face.
"No one's here," Blake said quietly. "You could say it was an accident, that I tried to get away." Bones shot him a single glare. "Mate, if killing you were an option, you'd have met your maker hours ago. But I'm not giving that foul beast inside you the satisfaction of freeing it. Not until there's nowhere for it to run."
Elise's entering the room with a tall, foreign-looking man stopped Blake's reply. She had her hand in the stranger's, and Blake wondered if this was her husband or boyfriend. Oddly, he didn't like either thought.
"You tried to control his mind?" the stranger asked Bones, traces of an unfamiliar accent in his voice.
Bones grunted. "Too right. Filthy get wouldn't shut up in the car, and for some reason, he kept after my wife the whole bloody trip."
The stranger looked thoughtful at this information. Blake winced.
"I'm sorry."
The stranger moved to the side, and Blake saw he had a dog behind him, of all things. Elise shut the door. It was just the four of them and a mastiff in the room. What now? Blake wondered.
The stranger's eyes narrowed on Blake, then went green. So bright, like looking into the sun, but a different color. Staring into his eyes, Blake felt as if he were spinning, but that was impossible, since he was manacled to a wall. His heart began to pound, and a weird feeling of panic rose.
Elise moved to stand close to him, not touching, but her presence was soothing anyway.
"This is my sire, Mencheres," she said softly. "He's going to help you." No one can help me, Blake thought, then almost recoiled at the blast of invisible bands that gripped him. What the hell?
"Something's...squeezing me," he gasped out.
Mencheres kept staring at him with those hypnotic eyes. "I am." The pressure increased until lights danced in his vision, and he could barely breathe. This is it, Blake realized. I'm dying.
"Sire," he heard Elise say, sounding agitated.
Don't worry, Blake wanted to tell her, but didn't have enough air for the words. I'm not afraid. Thank you for everything you've done. It's not a bad way to go, actually, looking at your beautiful face...
"What is your name?" Mencheres asked. His voice sounded far off and echoing. Amidst the encroaching darkness, unable to breathe, Blake wondered how the guy expected him to answer.
"What is your name?" the question was repeated, with more emphasis. Mencheres's face filled Blake's vision, those ghastly glowing eyes boring into his. Get away, Blake thought. Let me see Elise again.
She's the only one in this room who gives a shit about me.
"What is your name? " With a harder squeeze. Everyone but Mencheres faded out of Blake's sight.
Blake's lungs were burning, his chest jerking in a vain attempt to coax air into it.
"Xaphan," someone hissed. Surprisingly, the voice was clear to Blake. Should he be able to hear things while he was dying?
"Xaphan," Mencheres repeated. More power slammed into Blake, until there was nothing in his vision but black, and he couldn't feel the pain in his lungs anymore. "Leave him." An ugly laugh echoed across Blake's mind. "No, little Menkaure. And you're not strong enough to force me."
Another squeeze. It seemed like so long since he'd breathed, Blake didn't know how he was still even alive to register the viselike grip.
"Leave him."
That awful buzzing filled his head, indicating the demon was about to take over. Blake wanted to scream, but he couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't talk. What if this was hell? Was he already dead and paying for all the things he'd done?
A string of words in a language Blake had never heard somehow penetrated his consciousness. The weirdest thing was, it was in a feminine voice, and it wasn't Elise.
Mencheres growled. That's how it sounded, anyway, and something so heavy and hard pressed against Blake that he prayed for mercy. Please, no. Too much. Stop. Stop!
"Come out of him!" It was a roar that Blake felt in his bones. Then he was falling, blinding lights streaking by. For a few incredible seconds, Blake felt free of everything. Even sound faded into silence, leaving blissful, peaceful, welcoming silence. At last...
Then feeling came back in a rush of pain as something pressed on his chest, and his lungs felt like he'd inhaled fire. This time, when he opened his eyes, he saw Elise's face over his. Her mouth came down, not in a kiss, but to blow air into him.
Blake coughed, tilting his head because all of a sudden, he needed to gulp in breaths. Her hands - pale, cool, soft - touched his forehead.
"Are you all right?"
Blake couldn't reply, too occupied with gulping oxygen to try to form words. A dark head leaned over him, black hair falling around his shoulders.
"I can't save him," Mencheres stated flatly. "The demon inside him is too strong."