Tall, Dark & Heartless (Pyte/Sentinel 3)

Just when she didn't think she could take another second the water above her turned red and she let go.

Chapter 8

"I'm going to kill that bitch," Greg muttered as he gripped the prescription bottle between his knees and popped the top with his hand. He dropped his head back and dumped two pain killers into his mouth. He swallowed them dry as his eyes narrowed on the flat screen monitors.

He watched as the bastard paced the long room, his eyes shooting from the unconscious woman lying on the bed to the locked door where his men made a hasty retreat over eighteen hours ago as they dragged him out of the room. From what his men told him, Caine had been pacing the room the entire time. His eyes remained a fiery red and his fangs had yet to retract.

Although it pleased him that the bastard reacted, he wasn't happy with the results. He looked down at his freshly wrapped stub where his left arm should be and ground his jaw. An eternity as a cripple, he thought bitterly. If the Master had changed him when he'd asked him to, he wouldn't have to worry about this. His arm would have grown back with rest and blood, but as a human he had no such hope. He'd been fortunate that one of the vampires here had been a doctor in his human life. The man was talented with a scalpel, but not talented enough, he thought bitterly.

It was all that bitch's fault, he thought acidly as his eyes once again landed on her unconscious form. If she had screamed for help when he told her to, he wouldn't be facing a very long life without half his arm when he was turned. All she had to do was show a little weakness and make the Pyte protective of her, but the bitch fought him nearly to the end.

A few more seconds and she would have been dead. He'd been fine with that, more than fine actually. As he shoved her down to the bottom, careful to release her when the electricity flowed, and continued to release surges of electricity into her body he'd actually been relieved that the bastard hadn't muttered a sound in protest. It meant that he was free to finally kill the bitch.

He knew the Master wouldn't be pleased, but if Caine wasn't willing to help Danni then it was obvious that she wouldn't be useful for their plans. He'd just resigned himself to enjoy killing her and finding another female when an unholy roar shook the room. Before he could turn around he found the arm that had been holding the bitch down torn from his body. As his men fled the room, dragging him behind them, he watched as the cold bastard pulled Danni out of the water.

"The Master said not to hurt the woman again," Lucan, the Master's right hand, said in a cold tone.

Greg ground his jaw as he forced his eyes to remain on the monitor. He hated the bastard almost as much as he hated being forced to deal with him since the Master refused to bother with him until he finished this project. The Master didn't deal with minions directly. That was Lucan's job.

He hated being considered a minion almost as much as he hated being the human child of a Sentinel, but that would end soon. After he completed this project and he was changed, he fully planned on showing the Master the error of his ways and taking Lucan's job. In time, he'd take his rightful place as Master.

********

Why was she in so much pain? Danni wondered as she rolled over onto her side and shivered.

"Get up, Danni," Caine commanded, but she couldn't. She was too tired and weak, although that's not what stopped her.

The small sparks of pain going off in her head let her know that she wouldn't be getting up again for quite some time. She turned to bury her face against the soft mattress as the light began to bother her. It didn't matter that her eyes were closed, she couldn't tolerate any light right now. She knew from experience that it was only going to get worse before it got better.

As much as she would love to find out why Caine decided that she was worthy to speak to again, she decided to give into her exhaustion and pain and go back to sleep. If she was lucky she'd sleep through this migraine. That would only happen if Greg decided to leave her the hell alone.

The idea of him taking his anger and frustration out on her while she had one of her migraines turned her stomach. She probably would have vomited if her body hadn't chosen that moment to drift off.

*********

"Are you going to stay awake this time?" Caine asked tightly as the sounds of chains being dragged across the floor teased her now thankfully, dull headache.

She slowly rolled over onto her side and frowned at the sight that met her. Caine's eyes were bright red, his fangs were down and for some godforsaken reason, he was prowling back and forth like a caged animal.

Her eyes shot over to the glass case that was filled with light pink water. Was that her blood? she wondered as she tried to sit up, but couldn't. She was too weak and tired, a nasty side effect from one of her migraines that had only been made worse by starving and the fun little torture Greg had thought up.

As she tried to find the energy to get up and use the bathroom she looked at the pink watery mess on the floor. When she couldn't detect any pain that would go along with that much blood loss she wondered what the hell happened. She looked back at the tank for a clue and that's when she saw it.

"Look away," Caine snapped and she was helpless to disobey at the moment. Her stomach was already queasy. She didn't need to stare at half an arm floating in the water to make it worse.

"What happened?" she asked, proud that her voice sounded normal.

"Greg left us a parting gift," he answered and she didn't have to look back to know that he was still pacing back and forth. The sounds of his chains dragging across the floor gave him away.

Her lips twitched despite the nausea that threatened to take over. She curled onto her side, using her right arm as a pillow as she pressed her left hand against her stomach in an attempt to stop the hunger pains that were starting to make their presence known. She just needed a little more rest then she could make her way to the shower and fill up with water while taking a cold shower thanks to Caine, she thought with a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong?" Cain asked, sounding almost.....concerned?

Had hell frozen over? she wondered idly as her stomach began to cramp down. As much as she'd love to lay there and rest for a while, if she didn't get to the shower area now she'd probably be too sick to do it later.

She rolled over onto her side, took a deep breath and sat up as she averted her eyes from the morbid scene to her left since the last thing her stomach needed was dry heaves. Using her trembling arms she pushed herself onto her shaky legs, but didn't get far before her butt landed back on the mattress again.

"What are you doing?" Caine demanded.

"Why do you care?" she snapped weakly, hating being this weak, this whole situation, and the inevitable future that she faced.