Broken (The Captive #5.5)(83)

"It is over now," Braith murmured. He turned sideways to twist out of Atticus's grasp and he let him go. Braith's eyes were filled with disgust as they lingered on Caleb. He turned on his heel and walked away. His footsteps echoed on the stone floor of the catacombs beneath the building that The Council had established as their center for law enforcement in Italy.

Atticus watched him go; it seemed that no matter what he did, he couldn't break the boy's compassionate streak. Braith was still young though; there was plenty of time to make him see. He'd learned that forcing him to stay to watch only turned into a battle and right now he was enjoying this newest torture far too much to fight with his son.

He turned back to Caleb. "Would you like to wake him?"

"Oh yes, very much so," Caleb said eagerly. Caleb's green eyes, so much like his own, gleamed with pleasure in the light of the fire.

The tiny piece of him that still had a little sanity left was even a little unnerved by Caleb and his thirst for brutality. It was an extremely small piece though and one that was easily ignored as he grabbed a poker from the fire and handed it over to his son. A twisted smile curved Caleb's lips; he placed the burning tip of the poker against the man's cheek. A howl escaped the man as he came back to life.

***

February 17th, 1243,

My dearest Genny,

Anna has given me another son today. He's much like the other boys with his dark coloring and his eyes are gray like his mother's. I wonder if that means he'll be as soft as his eldest brother is. Braith is growing larger everyday though and the vampire people, as well as humans, really do respond to him. He has some kind of hold over them, or not a hold, but a charisma that attracts them.

When he smiles they smile back at him, when he speaks, they listen. He will be a great captain for the army I will one day raise, a great champion for my cause. I may not have succeeded yet in showing him that there is nothing in this world but cruelty and death, but he's proven himself to be exceptionally strong, fast, and a powerful warrior.

Caleb can be the one that does the dirty work, but it will be Braith that leads the armies. The girl, Natasha, is much like Caleb. I see it in her. They both take the same twisted pleasure in death and torture that I do. They are not as good at concealing it though, but they are children, they will learn to keep it better hidden as they grow.

She named this boy Jericho, I had no input in this name either but it is not overly bad. I wonder what he will be like. Will he be the oblivious fool his older brother is, that I once was, or will he be as twisted as his siblings are, and as I have become.

It will be interesting to see.

***

August 4th, 1373

My dearest Genny,

The years are going by so fast now. Sometimes I think that maybe one of these days I will wake up and you will not be the first thing on my mind. That day has not come yet. I sat last night with your words again, like I have every day, but for the first time in years I opened the trunk too. I was always afraid to open it, afraid your scent would escape and I would lose yet another piece of you. It has dulled over the years but your aroma is still there, and still potent enough to drive a knife through my heart. Though I don't need your smell to do that, just the memory of you can still bring me to my knees.

***

March 11th, 1450,

My dearest Genny,

Merle came to see me today. It has been almost twenty-five years since I last saw him, he is little changed but he did come with the strangest bit of news…

Atticus looked up from where he sat at his desk, keeping a detailed account of the vampires that had been put down this month and the offenses they had committed in order to deserve the punishment from The Council. He grabbed his goblet full of blood as a knock sounded on the door of the library he'd had built in his newest villa.

"Who is it?"

"Your best looking family member," Merle called cheerfully from the other side.

Atticus couldn't help but chuckle as he rose to his feet and went to open the door. Merle was leaning in the doorway, his sandy blond hair was longer than the last time Atticus had seen him, his skin tanner, and a vibrant smile was on his face. "Cousin," Merle greeted as he straightened away from the door and grasped hold of Atticus's hand.

He'd become infallible at keeping his revulsion hidden from everyone but even still, he slipped his hand away from Merle's as soon as he could. "You're looking well," Atticus said and stepped aside to let him enter.

"As are you," Merle said. He dropped his hat on the table in the center of the room and settled into a chair. "How have you been?"

"I'm fine and you?"

"Jane and I have officially decided to call it quits. She was a good woman but it's time to get serious about having an heir. We won't live forever you know," he quipped and winked as he propped his feet up on the table.

"Does Anna know about this?" Atticus asked. He walked over to reclaim his goblet before settling in across from Merle.

"I'm not sure if Jane has told her or not. She plans to return to Italy to stay in the family home that had belonged to her mother so that she can be closer to Anna and her father."

"Do you have another woman in mind already?"

"I don't but now that I'm free of a wife, I'm also free to start looking. There are some tempting bits out there you know."