Fang Chronicles: Zenya's Story

Bad Luck Publishing

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Fang Chronicles: Zenya’s Story

Fang Chronicles: Book III

Printing History

eBook Edition: April 2013

All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

This is a work of fiction. ALL characters are derived from the author’s imagination.

Chapter One

Dim lights.

Muted sound.

Pain.

Darkness.

***

His brain barely functioned, but then the distant sounds turned into voices. He tried to connect the words from a male voice.

“Enough already, how…times…let him die.”

Darkness.

***

Awareness came slowly. Everything hurt and then pain seared into his back, bringing him off the cold, hard surface.

“Hold him down, dammit, or tighten the chains.”

Something or someone mashed him further into what laid beneath him. He managed to open his eyes to see… cement. He was on a cement slab.
Dried blood.
Was it his? He smelled burning flesh. That was his and he was in hell.

Again.

The pain intensified. He couldn’t hold back his scream, and when it tapered off, his bleary mind heard laughter.

“He’s back with us.”

His cloudy eyes blinked past the tears and he saw the branding iron held by someone he didn’t know; it went back into the fire.

That
someone
jerked his head up suddenly so he was staring into cat eyes.

“Hello, Nicolas. We’re glad you’ve joined the party and are partaking in our entertainment.”

The hold on his hair released, and his head slammed against the cement. The voice drifted away and a hand reached for the reddened iron. He saw the “X” draw closer and then felt the burn against his lower back. He was awake now and managed to hold in most of his next scream.

The skin on his back burned in two distinct places but didn’t come close to the sizzling skin now under the iron.

Again and again they seared the skin from his back. Finally, blackness took him away.

He felt the vampire at his wrist. Opening his eyes, he saw the vampire pull away. Fuck, it was a kid. A goddamned blood-sucking kid.

Penetrating amber eyes looked into his. “You’ll feel better soon, but I don’t think that’s a gift. Eventually they’ll kill you. I’m sorry my bite will make that day further away. Sleep now.”

Dark clouds descended and the world floated to nothingness.

This time his body hung from a rafter and he came to with a bucket of water saturating his bare skin. The liquid brought him to consciousness but unfortunately spiked his thirst. Dripping from his hair, a few drops traveled over his cracked lips. Not enough.

“Let’s get to work and see how long he stays with us this time.”

The scent of burning flesh no longer filled his nostrils, and he inhaled the unmistakable smell of cat—filthy, dirty, feline, shit.

The first cut brought his head up. Then the tearing burn drew a low groan as they peeled the skin from his body. He gritted his teeth until he was afraid they would crack. Strip after strip. He slowly drifted away...

His home.

Burning.

Screams.

No, not the babies
.
Must protect the babies
.

He couldn’t move. Secure vampire arms made him helpless. All he could do was watch his pack be massacred.

A voice pulled him out of the nightmare.

“I can’t keep bringing him back if you don’t give him water or food.”

Physical pain was much easier to deal with than mental, and Nicolas felt relief.

Cool water met his parched lips, but his tongue, too swollen to control the liquid flowing into his mouth, couldn’t stop it from rolling down his throat. He choked. Maybe he would drown.

The youthful voice sounded far away, “Drink and then I’ll relieve the pain.”

“We aren’t done with him yet.”

“Then you’ve just wasted good water. He’s too close to death and it’s almost impossible to draw blood. He tastes like shit.”

“He’s wolf, of course he tastes like shit.”

Nicolas would have laughed because he thought the same about cats, but laughter was beyond him.

“If you don’t give him nourishment, you can find another vampire.”

“The alpha wants him alive.”

“And you’ll risk him dying? I told you he’s almost beyond my help, and there’s little I can do unless you get some water and food into him.”

“Colter, take him down and secure him to the wall. Fetch some of Stella’s pozole and see if you can get that slop into his stomach.”

“Call me in an hour and I’ll heel his newest wounds.
If…
he tastes better.”

“You’re such a pussy. If I’d known, I would’ve asked one of the other vamps to stay behind.”

Nicolas heard the thump of the cat’s body hit the wall. He wanted to smile again. Beastkind didn’t fuck with vampires, even an infant one.

The pozole didn’t stay down, though he tried. He needed his strength to kill every cat alive. After that, he didn’t care what happened. His pack was gone; every last man, woman, and child. He would never stop hearing the screams, and wondered if death would give him needed peace. He wanted to die, but only if he could take the cats with him.

Cold hands lifted his arm and, though he tried, he couldn’t move away.

“You can fight but I’ll win, so just relax.”

Nicolas couldn’t even gather spit in his dry mouth to spew into the vamp’s face.

The kid laughed. “My name’s Vorlyk. I’m sure you don’t care, but I feel I should make introductions before I feed.”

“Fuck you.” His vocal cords barely worked.

“That’s better, wolf.” Vorlyk bit deep, sucking greedily. Retracting his fangs, he looked his meal in the eye. “Hatred can carry you far. Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll live long enough to do anything about it. I’ll leave some water next to you. Before unconsciousness takes over try to keep a little more down. I’m leaving for good in a few hours, but I’ll come in before I go and give you a small boost before the next round starts.”

“Why do you give a fuck?”

The deceptively young vamp tipped his head to the side, studying the pitiful excuse for a werewolf in front of him. His boyish voice went down an octave. “I don’t.”

With that he was gone.

Nicolas almost thought be dreamed the vamp’s pre-dawn visit, but when the cats came in he felt renewed energy, though hours later it made little difference.

This time the face of his tormentor changed. It was the cat he hated above all others; the baby killer.

The alpha liked to use his fists, and when that didn’t give him satisfying results, he grabbed a tire iron. Nicolas’s last thought before his blood-drenched eyes went dark…
If there’s no vamp, I’m a dead fucking wolf.

Chapter Two

Months later…

Nicolas lost count of the days, weeks, and months of his captivity. Rarely did light come through the solid door that kept him imprisoned. The wall secured his arms and legs with chains, making it almost impossible to lie fully on the floor. The tight restraints kept him from changing into wolf unless he wanted his joints torn from their sockets. The skin around his wrists and ankles was past scabbing over and was little more than torn flesh and bone, oozing thick puss. A bucket for waste sat next to him, but he hadn’t eaten in weeks or had a drink of water in days. He no longer needed the now-dry and crusted foul pail.

His body was giving out.

Lack of food, torture, and the loss of his pack had finally taken away his will to live. The next beating would be his last. No vampire had visited him in weeks. When he got here, he swore he would take cats with him when he died, but that wasn’t going to happen. Thoughts of revenge barely managed to get past his pain and suffering. His friends would need to handle the retribution for the murder of his pack.

He fell asleep thinking of death.

A small ray of light entered his cell. His cloudy mind knew this was it. Did he have a burst of energy to fight one last time? He didn’t think so.

He heard the steps of a single cat coming closer than normal. Maybe it realized he was so close to death it no longer mattered. A shadowed form knelt beside him. The cat was inches from his body.

A thread of hatred broke through his agony.

Fuck yes, he would be taking one of them with him in death. Every bit of alpha’s power he possessed brought him to his knees, and his restrained arms successfully wrapped around the throat of his enemy. His weak hands should have been able to twist the head off, but this death would take longer. He would slowly squeeze every drop of air from the monster’s body.