The Wolf (Black Dagger Brotherhood: Prison Camp #2)(77)

Like he wanted to prove who was in control, she watched her hand reach out and turn the knob. Then she pulled things wide and stood aside as he passed by.

“Come on.”

She followed him like a dog brought to heel, her body not hers to control, her will—off somewhere else.

Without being ordered to—verbally, at least—she walked down the hall in a trance, heading for some kind of wall with thick sticks protruding out of it and a door inset in the center—

All at once, her mind was flooded with images of horror, men and women strung up on those pegs, beaten with crowbars, with hammers, with lengths of chains—and then left there, the blood dripping off their battered bodies and pooling on the floor.

A figure in black, not the guard, but someone else, was smiling as he watched them die.

She had no idea where the gruesome slideshow came from, but it was as vivid as if she had witnessed it all personally, as if it were her own memories.

“He’s going to have fun with you,” the guard drawled. “You’re just his type.”





Lucan rushed back to the stairwell. Goddamn it, he’d smelled the incense coming down the steps, but also the nurse? That was why he’d been thrown off—Rio must have been put in one of Nadya’s robes to mask her scent.

What the hell was Apex thinking, taking that human woman into the mouth of the monster. Helping Kane was fine, but fuck.

As he arrived at the landing of the workrooms’ floor, he looked through the glass window in the fire door and tried to see if there was any disturbance. Everything seemed locked tight and business-as-usual for the daytime hours. And down at the far end, the pair of guards were in place in front of the wall—and there was nothing on any of the pegs.

Maybe she and Apex had gotten in and out already.

Either that or the Executioner had taken her into his quarters for a private party. Where that fucking madman would bite her jugular and drink her dry just for shits and giggles—

Directly overhead, a door opened and closed.

Lucan dematerialized into thin air and re-formed on the underbelly of the landing above him, hanging aloft like a bat, ready to pounce on—

Apex stumbled down the steps, weaving from side to side. “Not now, wolven. We got a problem—”

Releasing his grip, Lucan dropped down in front of the vampire, and went for the bastard, grabbing his throat and forcing him back.

“She wasn’t supposed to leave the clinic!” He punched the other male into the wall. “What the fuck were you thinking—”

“It . . . was . . . her idea. Her . . . i . . . dea . . .”

The words came out as he banged, banged, banged the dumbass piece of shit into the concrete over and over again.

“Executioner . . . has . . . her.”

Lucan stopped with the bread dough routine. After a split second of total shock, he shoved his face forward, baring his fangs. “You better hope she lives. Or I’m going to kill you with my bare hands—”

“I tried to stop her, asshole!” With a shove, Apex broke free—but then tripped over his own feet, fell onto the steps, and slumped like he was out of gas. “Fuck.”

“I don’t believe you,” Lucan hissed.

“You want to argue with me or save her life? We need to get her out of the Executioner’s private quarters. I heard them talking from where I was—”

“Fuck you. No one can trust you—”

Apex shot up and got right back into Lucan’s grill. “She was trying to help Kane. For that alone, she deserves better than dying at the Executioner’s hands—or underneath him. So you can bet her fucking life you can trust me on this.”

Between one blink and the next, Lucan remembered Rio strung between two stakes on the floor of that apartment, that human cutting open her shirt with that knife.

“I owe her,” Apex announced.

There was a pause. And then Lucan lowered his head. Rubbed his aching temples.

“Since when did you grow a conscience?” he muttered as he went over to the doorway and checked through the glass again.

Apex cracked his knuckles. “Since I’ve been sitting at the bedside of that male of worth in the storage room. And then listening to that female of yours get manhandled by a goddamn guard.”

Lucan couldn’t even think about that last one. Or his head was going to fucking explode. “Like morals are something you catch like a cold.”

“Shut up, wolven. You can’t bust her out of there alone and you know it. You need me.”

As Lucan assessed the guards on duty at the wall, he shook his head . . . but couldn’t argue. “We have to go for a frontal assault. Take out the pair by the door, get into the private quarters—”

“The guards’ll call for reinforcements if we rush them, and the backups are only one floor down. We need a reason to get close.”

Lucan frowned. Then it came to him.

“I know what to do.” With a quick yank, he pulled open the door. “Make like you’re in on it all.”

“As if I’ve never done that before,” Apex muttered.

The two walked forward at a leisurely pace, Apex a couple of feet behind, as was his way. He never, ever made a pair with another, the I-am-an-island bullshit a cliché except for the tally of his kill count. Which was about to go up by at least one, maybe two guards—