Broken (The Captive #5.5)(15)
He forced himself to his feet. "I must go pack then."
Turning on his heel, he left the room before his father could say anything more.
***
The servant dropped his trunk into the corner of the room before hurrying out. Atticus walked over to the window slit to stare at the meadow of grass blowing in the wind. They were at his Uncle Thaddeus's manor on the outskirts of London but his mind was still on his father's home to the south.
"I think we should take this as our chance to escape." He glanced over his shoulder at Merle before looking back out the window again. At any other time he would have taken the first chance he got to get away from his father and uncle. Now all he wanted was to escape his own skin, it felt as if it wasn't even his anymore. He had no idea what was wrong with him but it had to stop before he tore the flesh from his body.
"Atticus?"
"Yes, let's," he murmured. Maybe getting out into the world that he knew so well, and had always belonged in, would help him to shake the strange sensations growing within him.
He turned away from the window, grabbed his cloak from where he had tossed it on the bed and followed Merle from the room. They retrieved their horses from the stable and rode the three miles into the crowded London thoroughfares. They kept to the side streets, avoiding the main roads in favor of the seedier areas of town that vampires often frequented.
Merle stopped outside of a gaming hall they'd both been to multiple times a couple of years ago. He handed his reins over to the vampire stable boy that had been lurking in the shadows and followed Merle down a set of stairs to the door tucked below. If a human had passed by the hall they never would have noticed it there, and if they did notice it they would never make it inside. If they somehow did manage to get in, they wouldn't survive to tell the tale. It was easy for people to go missing in this area of the city and never have their whereabouts questioned.
At the bottom of the stairs, Merle knocked three times before pausing and knocking twice more on the door. A small window at the top pulled back, a pair of beady brown eyes peered out at them before the window slammed shut. Metal screeched against metal as the bolts in the door were slid open and a dwarf vampire opened the door to give them entrance. The beady black-eyed guard that had opened the window stood behind the dwarf. His face had been twisted into a permanent scowl by a vicious looking scar that ran from the center of his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, lips and chin. Whatever had happened to the man had been bad enough that the scar still hadn't faded away.
"Welcome milords," the vampire dwarf greeted and bowed to them as beady eyes closed and locked the door again. "It's our pleasure to have you here tonight. I'm sure you will be able to find anything you require within, but if there is anything special," he said the word in a tone that made Atticus curious about what more could be offered that wasn't already here. He didn't want to find out as he knew there were things within these walls that he'd never tried before, and had no intention of trying. "You need only let me know and I will procure it for you."
"Thank you," he said and turned away from the small man. "I'm sure we will be fine."
The dim candlelight inside flickered over the blood red cloth that covered the walls. It cast a reddish haze throughout that did little to illuminate the shadowed corners. He suspected the color and sparse lighting were supposed to help set the mood for the vampires and humans gathered within to exchange blood and sex, for a price. It was an unnecessary visual reminder as the scent alone was enough to reinforce the club's purpose. The room reeked of the mineral scent of testosterone, the sweeter aroma of human blood and the musky scent of arousal just like every other club he'd been in over the years. Every club had their differences of course but no matter what country it was in, or what language was spoken within them, they were all basically the same.
The thirty or so vampire men gathered within this building were amongst the wealthiest and most powerful in the land. There might be some members of The Council within, but for the most part the men in this room were their offspring, nephews, cousins, and so on. Most were men that got to experience the life of money and luxury without the responsibilities that came with it. He envied their ability to do as they pleased, he would never know what that was like.
There were probably one or two others within that were as trapped as he and Merle were. His uncle Nyles was on The Council, not because of the line he shared with Atticus's father, but because he was a standin for Merle's mother's side of the family. She had been lost in a fire fifteen years ago and Merle had been too young to take her place. As the only living member of his mother's line, one day Merle would rise to take his father's place, but he wasn't in any rush to do so and his uncle Nyles wasn't in any hurry to step aside.
When he'd entered this building the last time, excitement and lust had burst through him at the promise of what was within. Now his stomach churned with disgust and it took all he had not to walk out, but there were appearances to be kept and reputations to uphold amongst his kind.
Grinding his teeth together, he brushed off the grasping hand of a human. When she grabbed for him again, his lip curled in a snarl that sent her reeling backward a few feet. The nearly transparent, sheer red skirt she wore hung enticingly low on her hips and almost tripped her up. His gaze raked over her half-naked body but instead of finding her exposed breasts appealing, he felt as cold as an English lake in January. The brown eyes of the woman across from him became a pair of raven colored eyes, her pale blond hair blurred into a shimmering black that reflected the glow of the sun.