Bound in Death (Bound #5)(45)

A vampire stood there, eyes shining as he glared down at Alerac. His dark hair was swept back from his high forehead. His lips twisted in disgust. “The punishment is death,” the dark vampire said. “He came here, he used you, in order to get into our midst. To attack us from within.”

Wait—that vampire had to be the one Alerac had warned her about—Lorcan. That guy was obviously the boss in this little nightmare scene.

She’d expected him to look like a monster. He didn’t. He was handsome, seemingly in the bloom of his youth. It was only when he looked deeply into Alerac’s eyes that she could see the flare of evil.

“I-I’ve started turning.”

“When,” Lorcan demanded to know.

“Y-yesterday.”

The knife was lifted from Alerac’s throat. His hands clenched as he pulled at the silver manacles that bound him.

“He used you!” Lorcan snapped. Alerac’s blood dripped from the knife. “And yet you would give your life for him? Why?”

She didn’t respond right away.

“Why?” Lorcan’s shout filled the chamber.

“Because I love him.”

Lorcan smiled, but it was a cold and cruel sight. “You can’t die for him, Keira. You have too much value to us.” A pause. “But you can take his punishment. After all, you were the one to bring him in to our clan. A dog, walking among gods.”

“You’re no god,” Alerac snarled.

Lorcan’s eyes narrowed. “One hundred years. That’s the penalty for treason in our clan. Imprisonment. Starvation. For one hundred years.”

One hundred years. How could even a vampire survive that long without some kind of food? Because he’d said starvation— “I will take the punishment, but you have to promise me that Alerac lives. No matter what else happens, he lives.”

“Why?” Lorcan’s lips were twisted into a sly smile. “By the time you are free, he’ll be long dead.”

“Swear it, Lorcan. Vow it to me on the blood.”

Lorcan’s gaze returned to Alerac. “I vow it,” he agreed.

The vampires hauled her away. Shackles were put around her wrists as Alerac watched, and something…broke in him. He lunged to his feet, roaring, as his beast pushed for freedom. He yanked the manacles from the wall.

The images vanished into a swirl of darkness.

For once, Jane preferred the darkness. Fear was acid in her gut, churning, destroying.

But the darkness didn’t last.

New images slipped before her. The dark haired vampire—Lorcan. She knew him now. Knew him through Alerac’s memories. He was the bastard who had imprisoned her.

Then he was before her. No, not before her, but before Alerac. Another vision, another one starring Lorcan. He was smiling his twisted, evil grin.

“I said you would get to live.” Lorcan bent and picked up the silver knife. “But I never vowed that you would not suffer.”

Another vampire yanked back Alerac’s head.

“I think I’ll start with your eyes,” Lorcan said. “After all, what good is a wolf who cannot see?”

The blade came toward him. The silver burned and cut and the pain rolled through him.

In her mind, Jane was screaming. She was crying. She was so desperate to escape that silver knife.

She didn’t see Lorcan any longer. She saw red—blood.

Then she saw nothing.

***

“No!” Jane reached for her eyes, sobbing. She’d been sentenced to a lifetime of darkness. She hadn’t meant— “Jane?”

Her breath froze.

His fingers wrapped around her wrists. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t lower her hands. “I saw more of your memories.” She was sure starting to think that she was far better off without the knowledge of the past.

The past freaking terrified her.

Jane forced herself to take a deep breath. Then she lowered her hands. “Lorcan…”

“You saw him in the visions?”

Saw him, and would never be able to forget that SOB. He’d enjoyed hurting her—and Alerac. Jane nodded. “I saw what he did…to you.” She looked into his eyes, those glowing eyes that didn’t belong to a man.

But to the beast.

“He took your eyes.”

Alerac’s chest was bare. The sheet tangled around his waist. He leaned over her, caging her against the covers.

Her hand lifted to his cheek. “He took your eyes.”

He caught her hand. “Don’t worry, I plan to take a hell of a lot more from him.”

Was that supposed to make her feel better? It didn’t. “Is that why your eyes glow?”

“I lost the eyes of the man.” No emotion was in his voice. “When a werewolves shifts, the beasts heal our injuries. When I finally healed, the beast gave me even better eyes than I’d had before. Stronger. Sharper.”

Finally healed. “How long did it take you to heal?”

“Long enough.”

That wasn’t an answer.

“It doesn’t matter.” Now there was emotion sliding through his mask as he eased away from her.

She thought it did matter. “One hundred years.” That had been the punishment determined by Lorcan. “You searched for me, all that time?”