Broken (The Captive #5.5)(82)

The oldest though, humans and vampires alike loved the oldest; he had a magnetism about him that few could resist. Perhaps it was his pretty face, Atticus thought sardonically as he was already shaping up to be a handsome, strong boy. Even more so than the younger child. At six, Braith was already twice the size of the other vampire children he was being raised with and the star of all his training courses. He may not have the savagery within him that Atticus required in the boy, but he had the power and the ability to lead that Caleb did not possess.

There was always the chance that he could rid the eldest of the weakness of compassion that would one day drag him down, and that was exactly what he intended to do. Braith grinned as he caught the kitten in his hands and held it before him. Walking across the field toward him, Atticus saw much of his old self within Braith and he hated him for it.

"Kill it," he commanded brusquely.

The smile slid from Braith's face as his head tilted back to look up at him. "Excuse me papa?"

"I said kill the kitten."

Behind him the younger one began to giggle. "But I don't want to," the older protested.

"It doesn't matter what you want. In this life you won't get what you want, learn that now child. Crush it."

The boy stared at him from uncertain eyes that were the same shade of gray with that strange blue band around them as his mother's. He despised those eyes. His gaze fell to the orange and black tabby cat squirming within Braith's grasp. Atticus watched as Braith's hand moved to grab hold of the kitten's head but at the last second, instead of killing it as he'd been told, the boy tossed it toward the tree line it had emerged from. The kitten's legs were braced apart, its hair stood on end when it landed in the woods. A small hiss escaped it before it turned and fled into the forest.

The younger one began to laugh louder as Atticus snatched Braith up by the back of his tunic and lifted him before him. The color faded from Braith's face, his eyes bulged from his head. Atticus gave him a sharp shake back and forth. "You are never to disobey me again!" he snarled.

Dropping his arm down, he dragged the child behind him on the ground as he stormed back to the villa. The child was brave and obstinate, he'd give him credit for that, but he would learn his place. He would learn that this world was only a place for cruelty and he was going to be the one to teach it to him. The sound of the boy's cries fell on deaf ears as he dragged him back to the boy's room and locked the door behind them.





CHAPTER 27


April 9, 1235

My dearest Genny,

My daughter was born today. She's nothing like the little girl I'd envisioned with you when I first held Braith. She looks like her mother with her blond hair and delicate features. The sight of her made me cringe. Anna named her Natasha. Again, it wouldn't have been my choice but again I offered no opinion on the matter.

I often ponder what our daughter's name would have been but I can never think of anything that would have been beautiful enough for her. Though sometimes I think I would have called her Aster as she would have been our shining star.

I hate this world I live in and these vampires and humans that surround me. I want my desert back but that's not to be. I must say though that The Council is almost as ruthless as me; they just use their laws to cover up their ruthlessness. The methods of torture they come up with are ingenious. Though we are not allowed to actually carry them out (they do not like to get their hands dirty and expect that we all feel that way, even though I don't) as an appointed enforcer of the laws, I do get to watch.

***

Atticus smiled grimly as the vampire trapped within the cage before him screamed on endlessly. His body thrummed with excitement as the man's face became florid and the muscles in his neck stood out. Beside him, Braith took a step back and turned away. Horror was written all over his son's features as the man's face twisted in agony.

As a vampire this was only the beginning of the man's suffering, there was much more torture still to come. A vampire's body did not simply give out on them. Oh no, he had learned over the years, and even more so now that he was working closer with The Council, that there were many things the vampire body could withstand. They could lose almost all of their blood and continue to function as a mere husk of their former selves. Their tolerance for pain before finally passing out was ten times the threshold of a human's, and they were far more fun to play with than any human was.

Every new form of torture he discovered he filed away for future use. Until the day he could use what he had learned, he enjoyed making sure the punishments that The Council handed down to vampires that broke the Vampiric Law were carried out.

Atticus wrapped his hand around the back of Braith's neck and pulled him forward as the rats continue to eat their way through the vampire's belly and chest. "Look," he hissed at his son.

In the glow of the fire behind the man, Braith's eyes were wild and filled with dread. His muscles strained against Atticus's hold upon him but he didn't try to break free of his grasp. He was strong and broad, especially for a twelve year old, but he was of no competition for his father and they both knew it. Sweat began to break out on Braith's face but he remained immobile within his grasp as the vampire released one more howl before succumbing to unconsciousness.

"Ach," Caleb said disappointedly from beside him and gulped down the rest of the blood in his goblet.