Cyrus' fist hour chained to the table in the dungeon started with praying for a miracle, but ended nowhere close to holy. He was stuck on that table with a guillotine blade cutting into his throat for one reason only, the extraction of information. He was tortured on Dmitri's orders by a Vampire whom Cyrus was certain had done more than a cycle or two of steroids as a human. He asked all about Elsie, her pack, and how he got Shifters to help him.
Cyrus didn't give a single detail away, he remained silent though every evasion earned him a five-inch bolt driven into his torso courtesy of his super-sized friend wielding a large mallet. It was like the Vampire version of Whack-A-Mole and it hurt badly, but Cyrus knew if he talked it'd be over for him... over for Faye.
Though Louis would scour the earth to find Elsie the likelihood of him locating Dmitri's compound before anything lasting happened was too slim a chance to bank on. Cyrus figured he had maybe twenty-four hours to get free before Dmitri ordered his death rather he talked or not and Elise wasn't going to last much longer.
Faye on the other hand would suffer day in and day out, and that thought destroyed him. It was beyond anything he had ever felt knowing that somewhere under the same roof Faye was being damn near drained just to be healed so it could happen again. If he couldn't save her she would be taken to the edge of death so many times that eventually everything she was and everything she knew would be taken too.
The memory loss accompanied with the healing powers of a Vampire's blood wouldn't present a problem if given sparingly, but when the recipient is only awake long enough to donate more blood, the part of the brain it disconnects runs too thin to sustain the healing drop, and it kills other cells instead. A strong mind will last for years, but they all have breaking points.
If Faye remained a prisoner there would come a time where she would be nothing more than a blood bag kept alive by machines. That was the fate of a blood slave. Faye's fate, and in a moment of weakness the image of her being restrained and bitten entered his mind, mushrooming out, tainting his every thought until all he could see was her screaming.
The mental picture turned out to be far more derailing than anything else. He wasn't going to be of any use if he couldn't move beyond it.
In an effort to clear his head he exhaled heavily, welcoming the burn as the blade pressing into his throat sliced a little deeper into his flesh drawing fresh blood, and the image of Faye away. For a moment all he could feel was the steel protruding from his chest and stomach, and as unnatural as it was to focus on, he found the physical pain became an asset.
Every time he withheld an answer and a spike was driven in, that pain kept his mind right there in the moment. It kept him alert instead of rooted in fear for Faye. He was able to maintain his calm as a few more hours passed, and then another Vampire entered the room and the torturer finally lowered the mallet and stepped away.
"It's time," the Vampire said to Cyrus' horror, but the dungeon master leaned down into his face and said, "Not yours, I'm not nearly done with you," before stepping out of view completely.
Cyrus could hear them moving around in the distance, but he didn't know what was happening. They didn't speak and he couldn't turn his head to see.
As it turned out, the reprieve from trying to bolt him to the table was to escort Hector and his maker, Tatiana, from the room. Cyrus had no idea other prisoners were being held down there with him, and as they passed by, it didn't seem as though either one expected to return. The dewy stench of fear was thick in the air around the both of them. Cyrus wondered briefly what exactly they were going down for, but whatever backstabbing betrayal preempted their stay was only one of many they dissevered to die for and then he realized something... he was alone.
They had left him alone presumably under the assumption that he was too weak to escape and maybe they were right, but Cyrus was capable of anything if properly motivated, and for him there was no greater motivation than Faye. This was the chance he had been praying for and he didn't know how long he had, so he had to act fast. He needed to get off that table without causing the blade at his throat to drop.
The chains that held his arms and legs could be broken with some effort, but it seemed too easy to simply pop them, grab the blade, and move. He figured it probably went something like break the chains and the blade drops... along with his head. That would explain why the blade was positioned at his throat, it ensured he would lose his head before he could stop it.
The blade was sharp enough that even lacking a few feet of gravitational pull he had zero doubt in its effectiveness.
As he tried to devise a plan, a question presented itself... If my bones no longer held their form, would I be able slip the cuff and catch it?
It seemed possible, he could break his hand then he might be able to pull it free to grab the guillotine blade before causing any slack in the chains. Trouble was, it would be a flip of a coin kind of maneuver, and he didn't feel good about that kind of fifty-fifty.
He tried for another idea and when nothing came to him he decided to go for it. He couldn't let indecision ruin what might be his one and only chance.
His arms were cuffed together under the table and it took a little stretching to get a good grip around his left hand with his right, but when he had it he squeezed hard. One by one the bones in his left hand cracked under the pressure. When he released his grip, his left hand was half the width it had been and the metal cuff slipped off into the fingers of his right hand.
The sudden movement of the cuff caused the steel blade to drop down an inch into his neck before he was able to catch it with his misshaped hand. He pull it out then yanked, snapping it free, setting it down next to his thigh. He jerked his right arm, clanking the metal loudly as it pulled tight around his wrist before it gave under his strength. The bones in his left hand regained their shape and then he got to work removing bolts from his chest.
He pulled enough metal out to make a difference, then he freed his legs and got off the table taking the blade from the guillotine with him. He crouched down and moved for the door just as it started to slide open.
He rushed over putting his back against the cold stone next to the entrance hoping like crazy he was strong enough to fight because he still had bolts protruding from his midsection and was down a serious amount of blood.
Hector was forced into the room and Cyrus knew it would be immediately obvious that he was no longer on the table. The big Vampire noted his absence and spun on his heals with Hector still in his clutches. As luck would have it, or fate, Cyrus was faster and circled placing him behind the big bastard. He had a full second to line up his next move, which was to jump on the dungeon masters back catching him off guard.
Cyrus had a grip on his head and broke his neck before he knew what hit him. The Vampire dropped to his knees then crumpled face first to the floor releasing Hector along the way.
It was a temporary lights out so he ignored Hector, raised the steel that was still wet with his own blood up over his head, before bringing it down with both hands severing the torturers fat head from his over-sized body, but he didn't stop there... Cyrus stood taking the blade with him as he turned to deal with Hector who looked up at him with lifeless brown eyes, he knew it was over. Still the weasel of a Vampire whispered hoarsely, "I'll help you... If you help me..."
Cyrus snorted a laugh and pulled another bolt from his chest dropping it to the floor before saying, "I don't bargain with the dead," and as his words registered across Hectors features it was already too late. Cyrus swung his arm wide letting it serve as the handle to the blade and he chopped Hector's head clean off, effectively ending him.
As Hector fell in two parts Cyrus dropped too. He pulled the remaining bolts from his body then rose taking the bloody blade with him. On his way out of the dungeon he spotted the mallet that had been used on him and a roll of duct tape sitting right next to it. Pumped, he did the obvious and broke the mallet head off then secured the blade to the handle using what remained of the roll of tape.
He didn't know how well it would hold, but it beat not having a handle at all. He took a few test swings then he took off into the stone corridor. As he got to the end of the hall he heard footsteps and a voice. He flattened his body against the wall and crept silently along. When he reached the corner he held his ax out like an extension of his arm ready to swing.
As he waited he realized he was hearing two voices and one heartbeat. A vampire and a human were just around the corner, less than five feet away. Cyrus made a decision right then... he was going to slaughter anyone he came across, human or not. An employee of his enemy was his enemy and he leapt out of hiding swinging.
He lopped the vampires head off and then he turned on the human for a much needed drink before he snapped the guy's neck. He tossed both pieces of the Vampires flaking corpse down the stairs, but the human was about his size. Cyrus lifted him up and slung him over his shoulder, then grabbed his ax and headed down the hall ducking into a few closets, until he finally found a bathroom. He locked the door then washed his hands and his face.
He took the shirt off the dead guy, putting the starched blue button down over his wound free upper body. It wasn't until he exited the bathroom with his ax in hand that he realized a flaw with his logic. He thought having a clean shirt might help him blend as he moved around the unfamiliar layout looking for Faye, but it didn't matter what he was wearing unless makeshift axes held together by duct tape were a common theme for weaponry. Oh well, he thought, he wasn't leaving it behind.
He went from room to room, quick and quiet, and then he smelled something familiar... Elsie. She was close. He could hear her heart beating erratically and he hesitated a moment as part of him wanted to keep going for Faye, but Howahkan sent Elsie there for a reason... and maybe that reason was to help him rid The Council of its leader.
He approached the door and just before he put his hand on the knob he heard a voice, "If you're not going to be a good little bitch and speak, I'm sure I can find a way to make you."
It was Roxanne. In the next instant he was turning the knob and charging into the room swinging.
After leaving the room Dmitri converted to their alter Roxy had gone straight into her favorite gold trimmed bathroom for a shower. When she emerged and looked into the mirror she didn't recognize the person staring back.
It took a moment of close examination to realize the difference she was seeing was in her eyes. The color was the same, but the emptiness that always stared back was gone. What she saw was multifaceted and alive. She felt truly strong for the first time, and that made her want to flex.
"Roxanne LaValle, Queen of the US Council," she said, smiling at the urge she had to do a karate chop after trying her knew title out, and then there was a knock at the door followed by Dmitri's amused voice, "Roxanne LaValle, Queen of the US Council, come out here please."
She laughed, opening the door wearing a towel and a smile. She said, "Dmitri Thank you," and then she hugged him.
"I feel so free right now," she said as he gave her a little squeeze before pulling back to appraise her.
"You're beautiful. Freedom suits you."
"I feel like anything's possible."
"That's because it is," he answered making her feel all the more ready to do something and she asked, "So what comes next? How do we go from here to ruling the world?"
Dmitri laughed and took one of her hands in his, twirling her out of the doorway he began to lead her in a waltz around the room. He dipped her smoothly and said, "World domination... I so love the tune."
She giggled genuinely amused then tried again, "I'm serious, what comes next? What can I do?"
He let go of her hand and waist and took her face in his palms, "Whatever you would like."
"I want to help," she said stepping away from him and asking, "I'm curious how we get all of the others to go along with what we're doing? Do you expect a group of predators to submit to being ruled by a self proclaimed King and Queen?"
Dmitri's eyes flickered with a darkness before he took a slow step towards her asking with a sudden edge, "Self proclaimed... Do you doubt me?"
Roxy shook her head, "No. Not at all. I'm trying to ask if there is a plan for dealing with the opposition we may face as word of what we've done spreads? I want to be involved with more than just the aftermath."
He nodded coldly, "There will be no opposing, or there will be death. That's the plan."
"Dmitri, I'm sorry if I've angered you. It's just I finally feel... capable. Since I was a child I've been looked upon as weak and in truth I have been. I've always had to rely on others just to live and that's been fine until today. I don't know if it's the blood or you, but I want to be more than a pretty face at your side. I want to be actively involved in securing our positions. I want to live with you, I want to fight with you, and I want to die with you if the time ever comes. I don't want to be carried anymore. Do you understand what I'm saying," she asked, her voice full of desperation.
"I understand perfectly, my pet," he said and she felt instantly offended, belittled by the use and timing of the nickname.
"Now," he continued seeming to brighten once again, "I came to tell you that I have a call to make and when I emerge we shall have control over our first continent. We'll do something fun with our prisoners when I'm done."
Roxy started to speak, but he simply put his finger over her lips in a shushing gesture, then he practically vanished, leaving her furious. He had completely blown her off. All she wanted was a task. She wanted to prove herself, test herself even, but Dmitri didn't respond how she wanted. He basically shut her down which infuriated her. He could've at least invited her to join in the negotiations.
She thought he wanted an equal, someone he could plot and scheme with, but it seemed she had it wrong. He wanted someone he could control, someone he could play with and put away which left her wondering if he grew tired of her would he simply replace her... she growled angrily at the thought. She could make decisions, she wasn't going to be his pet. She was going to be respected and decided that she would have to force him to see her as a formidable partner.
On impulse she decided to take action without him. He wanted answers about the Shifters and she was gonna get them. If she could crack the wolf Dmitri would listen.
She dressed in a hurry, but on her way to the room with the wolf, her determination was interrupted by a heartbeat. She found herself directly in front of the room Faye was locked in and the guard that was seated outside her door.
Roxy didn't know why, but hearing that girl's heartbeat spiked a dangerous feeling inside of her and in the next instant she was in the guard's space, "Move," she ordered and the guard did. At least someone respects me, she thought as the guard even opened the door for her to enter the Rare Bloods room.
Roxy shut the door behind her, closing her and Faye in together. She looked at the Rare Blood asleep on the bed and for a moment she actually felt a pang of jealousy as she realized Faye actually looked a little different than normal people. There was a softness to her features that just seemed otherworldly, and Roxy hated her for it. She hated her because Cyrus chose her, not that she had a thing for Cyrus, but he never looked at her as anything more than a burden. He never gave her the time of day. Faye on the other hand... he risked everything, and it hurt when she thought about that.
Why not me, she wondered, feeling sorry for herself, but she knew just what to do to cheer herself up.
"Get up," she said, poking Faye in the shoulder. When the girl didn't move Roxy took her pointer finger and thumb and pried one of Faye's eyelids open.
"Hello, anyone in there," she asked blowing into her eye.
She let go and Faye started blinking as she came around. Roxy laughed delighted at the fun she was going to have.
"So nice of you to come back," she said as Faye's heart raced and she bolted upright out of the bed gasping, "Where am I? What happened?"
"You're in hell, Love," Roxy said, "And I brought you here."
"Why do you look so familiar...? Roxanne..." Faye asked with a shaky voice.
"Yes," Roxy said smiling, hoping Faye remembered that day on the side of the road. She wanted the Rare Blood trembling with fear.
"Where's Cyrus," Faye asked and Roxy laughed.
"You can't do this to me. You're going to pay for this. Cyrus will come for me, and you will all pay," Faye said earning her more laughs and then Roxanne spoke, "Tell me, do you think he loves you?"
Faye said nothing so Roxanne continued, "I know him and I can assure you, you're nothing more than a collectible to him. He's obsessed with the unique and you're as unique as it gets, so next time you want to throw his name out there just remember he's a Vampire, same as me, and you're nothing but a fancy meal."
"You know nothing about him, about us," Faye said.
"Do you think you're better than me," Roxy asked suddenly, looking for a fight.
"What?"
"Yeah, you think you're pretty special," Roxy concluded with hostile intentions. She found herself lunging forward and then her teeth were embedded in Faye's throat.
She drank until the Rare Blood's screams no longer pierced the air, letting her drop to the floor after she passed out.
"Oops," Roxy said for her own amusement and smiled as she bent down to put a drop of her blood into Faye's mouth before leaving, off to mess with the shifter, as originally planned.