SECOND BOOK IN THE TIDES OF SORROW SERIES.
Cain had heard tell that others like him existed but, he knew none were of his making. Vampires, however, make mistakes too, they slip up and one such error from five decades ago suddenly appears before Cai...
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Cain's wings splayed against the backrest as he rammed the young vampire into one of the booths. The crossbow went flying, its trigger hitting off the cushioned booth sending a bolt skittering across the floor.
Although more substantial, bigger and overall stronger than the brat, Cain still found him to be slippery and able to wriggle free quickly enough. As Luke slithered under the table, Cain lunged and grabbed his ankle, pulling him back.
Growling and hissing, Luke tried desperately to latch onto anything to give him purchase, resistance, against Cain's grip. He grabbed onto the table's central support, and he clung for dear life.
Cain ripped the table from its fastenings, sending it crashing into upturned chairs. He flipped Luke on his back, savage, and dragged him free from the booth. Kicking and writhing, Luke searched for something to use against his attacker. His fingers curled around the stray cross-bolt.
Mustering all the strength he had, he pulled himself up and thrust the bolt into Cain's forearm. It served its purpose, taking the vampire-come-angel by surprise, making his grip loosen. Luke scampered off towards the bar, skidding and stumbling on the bloodied floor, his boots leaving swirling patterns in his wake.
He glanced at the battling vampires and his one-time elites - including his brother. For a split-second, their eyes met, mutual hatred passing between the siblings.
The updraft of beating wings overhead made Luke dive in behind the bar. Too late. Cain landed ahead of him, wings rigid, talons and fangs primed, looking a million times more ferocious than Luke recalled from years ago. In his hand, he carried the bolt which Luke had used to aid his getaway.
Giving him no time to assess any escape route, Cain pushed him back against the mirrored wall. Optics and free-standing bottles fell and smashed, shattered glass littering the counter and floor. Shards sliced into Luke's hands and legs as he struggled against Cain's unforgiving grip.
Pushing against Cain's chest, he stared at his hands. They were cut through to the bone, his blood tracing down over Cain's torso. His injuries were not knitting together. "Why am I not healing?" he whined. "I have your blood in my veins; I should heal faster!"
Cain sneered, and his voice was guttural. "You are about to die, and you wonder why you are not healing?" He guffawed then rammed the cross-bolt just below Luke's collar-bone, cracking the mirror behind and pinning him to the wall. The young vampire screamed and thrashed some more.
"Deluded to the last, aren't you?" Cain said, his sharp fangs almost nicking the youngster's face. "In fifty years you have fed your arrogance, your greed, your lust for flesh and all that glitters, but still you know so little about your boundaries?"
Luke stilled. He looked into Cain's eyes, their unfathomable depths, a doorway to the wisdom of millennia, of pain, revelation, loss, guilt. And power. "Tell me," he mouthed. He needed time to work out an escape. He fought a pained grin as Cain obliged.
