Niko snarled, wanting so badly to leap up off the bed and strangle Fabien. He struggled to do just that, but it was a futile effort. The combination of sedatives and steel restraints held him down. "I'll kill you," he muttered, breathless from exertion. "I promise you, I will fucking kill you."
"No," Fabien said. "It is you who's going to die. Unless you start talking now, I'm going to put this tube down your throat and open the valve. I won't shut it off until you indicate that you're ready to cooperate."
Jesus Christ. He was threatening to overdose him. No Breed vampire could handle that much blood at once. It would mean almost certain Bloodlust. He would turn Rogue, a one-way ticket to misery, madness, and death.
"Would you like to talk now, or shall we begin?"
He wasn't idiot enough to think Fabien or his cronies would release him, even if he did cough up details about the Order's tactics and current missions. Hell, he could have a rock-solid guarantee of walking away free, but he'd be damned if he'd betray his brethren just to save his own neck.
So, this was it, then. He'd often wondered how he would check out. Figured he'd go down in a blaze of glory, a hail of bullets and shrapnel, hopefully taking a dozen suckheads with him. He never guessed it would be something as pitiful as this. The only honor in it was the fact that he would die keeping the Order's secrets.
"Are you ready to tell me what I want to know?" Fabien asked.
"Fuck off," Niko ground out, more pissed than ever. "You and Dragos both can go straight to hell."
Fabien's gaze sparked with rage. He forced Nikolai's mouth open and shoved the feeding tube deep into his throat. His esophagus constricted, but even his gag reflex was weak due to the sedatives coursing through his body.
There was a soft click as the valve on the human's arm was opened.
Blood gushed into the back of Nikolai's mouth. He choked on it, tried to close his throat and refuse it, but there was too much - an endless flow that pumped swiftly from the blood Host's tapped artery.
Niko had no choice but to swallow.
He gulped down the first mouthful. Then another.
And still more.
Andreas Reichen was in his Darkhaven office reviewing accounts and downloading the morning's e-mail when he noticed the message waiting in his in-box from Helene. The subject was a simple handful of words that made his pulse kick with interest: found a name for you.
He clicked open the e-mail and read her brief note.
After some determined investigative work, Helene had gotten the name of the vampire her missing club girl had been seeing recently.
Wilhelm Roth.
Reichen read it twice, every molecule in his bloodstream growing colder as the name sank into his brain.
Helene's e-mail indicated that she was still digging for more information and would report back as soon as she had anything further.
Jesus.
She couldn't know the true nature of the viper she'd uncovered, but Reichen knew plenty.
Wilhelm Roth, the leader of the Hamburg Darkhaven and one of the most powerful individuals in Breed society. Wilhelm Roth, a gangster of the first degree, and someone whom Reichen knew very well, or had at one time.
Wilhelm Roth, who was mated to a former lover of Reichen's - the woman who'd taken a piece of Reichen's heart when she left him to be with the wealthy, second-generation Breed male who could give her all the things Reichen could not.
If Helene's vanished employee had been associated with Roth, it was certain the girl was dead by now. And Helene...good Christ. She was already too close to the bastard just by having learned his name. If she got any closer by continuing to look for information on him...
Reichen picked up the phone and dialed her cell. No answer. He tried her flat in the city, cursing when the call went into voicemail. It was much too early for her to be at the club, but he dialed it anyway, damning the daylight that kept him trapped in his Darkhaven and unable to drive over to speak with her in person.
When all his options failed, Reichen fired back a response via e-mail.
Do nothing more where Roth is concerned. He is dangerous. Contact me as soon as you receive this message. Helene, please...be careful.
A medical equipment truck came to a halt at the gated entrance of an unassuming, two-story brick building some forty-five minutes outside the heart of Montreal. The driver leaned out his window and typed a short sequence into an electronic keypad located on the security kiosk outside. After a moment or two, the gate opened and the truck rolled inside.
It must be delivery day; this was the second supply vehicle Renata had observed entering or leaving the nondescript location since she'd arrived a short time ago. She had spent most of the day in the city, hiding out in Lex's car while she recovered from the worst of her reverb from the morning. Now it was late afternoon. She wouldn't have long - just a few short hours before dusk fell and the night grew thick with predators. Not long at all before she became the hunted.