“No, please, no torture.” My voice breaks. “I won’t have it inflicted on anyone if I can help it.”
Tristan looks at me reassuringly, compassion in his eyes. “No. No torture. He either tells me, or I slit his throat.”
Tristan flashes over to the Old Priest, his silver dagger at the man’s throat in less than a second.
“Wait, wait,” the old vampire shrieks, showing his rotten teeth, his body shaking. His eyes turn desperately to me.
“The secret to human immortality is real Isolde,” he calls, his scraping voice bouncing off the cave walls, traveling deep in the distance. “Just imagine how many of your beloved elderlies you could save with it. Help me, and I’ll give it to you.”
“You’ll give it away as it is,” another voice reaches us. My skin pebbles.
“Mark,” I whisper.
Mark emerges from the darkness in his serpent form, morphing into a man as he approaches. His slippery face with the slimy scales and slit-like eyes transform into the face I know better than I like. He’s stark naked, as he always is when he shifts, but then Soraya emerges behind him and helps him into the floral robe he likes to use when he performs his tortures.
My heart hammers in my chest. I stare terrified into Mark’s smoldering eyes that hunger for vengeance.
“So, dear wife,” he hisses as Darius the alligator shifter emerges from the shadow behind him, the other serpents following. “You’ve been screwing the vampire.”
Soraya stares with a vindictive grin at Tristan, who froze with the dagger at the Old Priest’s throat. They must have kept the slithering sound of their movement under special control, making sure Tristan wouldn’t catch their presence.
Rage smolders just beneath Mark’s skin, and I can feel it directed at me much more than Tristan. Unable or unwilling to control himself, he launches at me with his hands outstretched, ready to tear me apart.
But as I watch his incoming attack with widening eyes, Tristan throws himself in front of me, intercepting him. Mark slams into my vampire knight’s hard body, staggering back and losing his balance. Darius the alligator catches him just in time.
Daggers shoot from under both of Tristan’s sleeves. I can see his back and his triceps flexing as he leans forward, ready to protect me. He stands in front of me like a shield.
“You’re gonna have to go through me if you want her.”
But I know what Mark is capable of. I grab Tristan’s shoulder, trying to move him out of the way.
“No,” I shriek, “he’ll kill you in the cruelest way!”
Mark grins viciously. “Listen to her, Tristan. I will kill you in the cruelest way.”
But I can’t move Tristan an inch, he’s like a grounded statue shielding me.
“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, Mark,” he says through his teeth. “Let’s end this once and for all—let Isolde go, and I’ll face you in one on one combat, to the death.”
Mark’s slimy lips stretch in a lecherous grin.
“I have a proposition of my own—you face Darius in one on one combat, no weapons; in the end, you’re a master of blades, while Darius has only his inner animal to rely on.” He motions over his left shoulder to Darius, who glares at my lover out of his scarred face. “You will do this for my pleasure. Then, if you survive, you will be facing me.”
“This isn’t fair,” I blurt, sidestepping Tristan, determined to march over and slap the bastard no matter the risk, but Tristan pulls me back into his granite chest. I look daggers at Mark. “Even if he wins the first fight, he’ll be exhausted. Of course you’ll have a huge advantage.”
But Mark juts out his chin. “And that wouldn’t be my only advantage, sweet wife. I would be keeping you as well.”
“What? No.” Tristan growls.
“Oh, yes. Only if you win against me will Isolde be free. This way you will be motivated to keep going even if a moment comes, when you’ll prefer death to taking another blow.”
“Son of a bitch,” I blurt, jerking towards him, but again Tristan pulls me back. “You fucking sadist, you want to make sure you get to watch as much pain porn as possible.”
Mark’s slitted eyes throw poison at me.
“You know what, Isolde, I always suspected the woman whose pussy juice I sniffed on my desk was you. But I fooled myself for weeks, trying to persuade myself every night it was Soraya. She wouldn’t have lied to me, not for Tristan. But she had, because the damn vampire had messed with her head.”
He moves to get me, and Tristan spins me around, shielding me swiftly behind him. Mark glares at my beautiful vampire.
“I know everything,” Mark says, poison in his voice. Keeping his eyes on Tristan, he holds out his hand to Soraya. She places an item in his palm and, when I squint at it to see it better, a chill runs through me. It’s the love potion.
“Even if it weren’t for this magic brew, I can still imagine Isolde’s pussy overflowing for you. Tall, handsome ice prince. Of course, I could never compete with you—except in a fight.”
“You have no one but yourself to blame for what happened between Isolde and me,” Tristan strikes back. “Indeed, even if it hadn’t been for the love potion. You abused her, terrified her, brought her to the brink of suicide. Luckily, I got to her before she could jump into the sea. She desperately needed a soul to connect to, someone to cling to in order to stay alive. And yes, that someone should have been you—her husband. A husband should be a rock of safety in the middle of a raging sea, but you were the rage. So what did you fucking expect? That she would love you despite the way you treated her? That she’d desire to feel you inside of her after you strangled her in your serpent form? What the fuck did you think would happen?” Tristan grows angrier with every word, his body tight and ready to fight.
I notice the hurt in Soraya’s face as he talks, the way her red lips quiver. What affects her isn’t the portrayal of Mark’s cruelty against me, no doubt, but the passion with which Tristan speaks about me—which gives me pleasure.
Mark winds an arm around her shoulders, holding her close, comforting her. What the hell binds him to this woman?
“A fatal attraction it is indeed between you and my wife, Tristan. Because it will be the death of you.” He snorts, his face contorting in something close to disgust, but not quite. “And you know what, you sure have a nerve, throwing my vile nature in my face. You wanted to use the love potion on me, making me fall in love with my own daughter, how sick is that.”
Did the ground just split under me?
“Soraya,” I breathe. “Your daughter?”
“You know damn well I had no idea,” Tristan hisses between his teeth.
“You knew?” I yelp.
“I found out today,” he says, his hand on my hip, keeping me behind him. His body tenses, like he’s preparing for a fight. I squeeze his hand—he can’t possibly try to fight our way out, he’s alone, while Mark came with his entire army of serpents, including the alligator. I heard he’s vicious and deadly, the entire town was afraid of him back on the coast.
“Don’t do it, Tristan, please.”
Mark grins. “Oh, don’t worry, dear wife. Help is already underway for your lover.”