Arturo, too, was lifted and slung over a shoulder. His breath had returned with the evidence of Quinn's survival, but his mind remained awash with disbelief. Never in six hundred years had he let himself be captured by werewolves.
But he'd been more concerned with Quinn's safety than his own.
He still was.
Chapter Twelve
"There you are."
At the sound of Jazlyn's voice, Lily looked up from scrubbing the floor in one of the castle's many bathrooms.
"Come on, girl. The vamps want all the freshies in the master's hall right now. You don't want to be the last human wandering around up here."
No, she didn't. Lily dropped the scrub brush in the bucket of soapy water and set the bucket under the sink, where no one would trip over it.
"Thanks, Jaz. What do they want?"
Jazlyn bit her lower lip. "I don't know, but it can't be good. Group gatherings aren't ever a good thing."
The two girls hurried downstairs, slipping into the gathering in the master's hall along with half a dozen other stragglers.
The master's hall looked much as the real Smithsonian Castle's west wing did in the real world, with its high, vaulted ceiling and intricate woodwork. But the red sandstone walls were now brown with smoke, the once-lovely windows boarded over against errant sunbeams. Chaises covered in stained floral silks and worn brocades lined the walls upon which sat more than two dozen hungry vampires.
Lily's pulse raced, as she knew the other female slaves' did. She could almost smell the fear, and knew the vampires, at least those who were fear-feeders, could taste it. And most of the vampires at Castle Smithson, along with their master, Lazzarus Nica, were fear-feeders. From what she'd heard, fear-feeders were the most common of the emotion-feeding vampires. Lazzarus, thank Heaven, apparently disliked the taste of pain. And while he enjoyed pleasure immensely, he was a male who preferred other males. From what she'd been told, new male slaves were sent either to the yards to work, or to the hall, to be prepared to pleasure the master.
The females were put to work as house slaves and blood donors though the hetero male vamps were free to use them at will.
"Many of you are new to Vamp City," a feminine voice rang out, and Lily had to peer around Jazlyn's shoulder to get a glimpse of the woman speaking, a vampire by the name of Marguerite.
On the dais at the end of the hall, the vampire master, Lazzarus, lounged on a chaise, surrounded by the three well-built, half-naked males who seemed to accompany him everywhere. Other males, fully naked, sat or lay upon pillows around his feet, most with the phosphorescent hair of Slavas.
"Some of you came to us through the slave auction, many of you did not. For those who are not familiar with the auction, let me explain. Because within the next couple of days, half of you will be transported back there."
Gasps and small cries sounded throughout the gathering, one girl breaking into sobs. Most of the slaves, Lily included, merely looked at each other with wariness and trepidation. It was clear who'd come through the auction and who hadn't.
Marguerite continued. "Within Castle Smithson, you have known relative safety. In the slave auction, you will not. You will be enthralled or knocked unconscious, then shackled to the other slaves at the ankle. In recent months, it's become customary to kill a slave or two in front of the others to feed the gathering vampires."
Behind her, one of the girls whispered in a broken voice, "It's really like that. It's just like that."
Lily's head began to pound at the description of the violence. She knew Vamp City was bad, but she'd never seen anything so barbaric in Castle Smithson.
"When the vampires' hunger has been satiated, the shackled slaves are led to the auction dais where, one by one, their finest attributes are displayed for the bidding horde, whether that means breasts or buttocks, courage or screams. You'll be sold to the highest bidder to be used for food, labor, sex, or simply to be tortured and killed for your master's feeding pleasure."
Lily's stomach began to quiver badly enough that she thought she might be sick. Why were they telling them this? But a quick glance around the room told her. The vampires all appeared to be in the throes of incredible pleasure.
Lazzarus and his vamps fed on fear. And the hall was now wild with it.
Was it possible this gathering was just a setup to create the fear? Or were many of them really doomed to experience the slave auction firsthand?
"Over the next few days, we will be deciding which of you to sell and which to keep. Work hard, cooperate with your masters to the fullest, and you'll remain a Smithson slave. Do not, and I guarantee you will find yourself wishing you had. Now, go!" She clapped her hands. "Return to your duties."
The women rushed from the hall, scattering in all directions as they ran to prove themselves worthy of remaining. Lily mimicked them-the worst thing to do in such a case was to stand out, especially as one who didn't believe what they'd been told. But the fact was, she didn't. Oh, she believed they'd sell slaves to the auctions. That part was true. But not those who weren't working hard enough. Hard work wasn't something the vampires particularly prized, from her estimation.
No, what Lazzarus and his vampires prized most was fear.
Hurrying back up to the bathroom where she'd been working, she pulled out her bucket and resumed her scrubbing.
Most of the female slaves in that hall today had come into the kovena within days of Lily. A new wave of terrified captives. The only two that Lily knew had been here for a while were perpetually terrified creatures. But over the past few weeks, most of the new wave had settled in. And settled down. Many had become enamored of their vampire hosts, eager for their attention. Over the past weeks, most of them had all but lost their fear. Until today. The threat of the slave auction had stirred their anxiety, but that would only last so long. Soon, they would all be sold. Lily was sure of it.
She didn't intend to be here when that happened. Which meant she had to plan her escape. And fast.
She'd heard rumors. Not all of the girls had been new to Vamp City when they were brought here. Some had escaped other masters and been caught again. They'd shared stories of slaves escaping through the sunbeams, and stories of a man called the Guardian who protected slaves and helped them escape Vamp City altogether.
Lily figured she could decide whether or not to seek the Guardian once she was on her own. And she could get out of there, she was almost positive. The trouble was Jazlyn. The girl wasn't small, quick, or quiet. Trying to get them both away without the vampires' noticing might well reduce her chance of success from one in ten to one in ten thousand.
Lily took a deep breath, dipping her brush back into the soapy water as she exhaled slowly, with a heavy sigh.
She and Jazlyn were in this together, now, whether that meant escaping in unison or suffering the slave auction hand in hand.
Lily couldn't . . . wouldn't . . . leave her friend behind.
Quinn woke with a groan, her arms at once numb and in pain, as if they'd been pulled out of their sockets. Her mouth ached where a cloth gag bit into the corners. She felt herself hanging, her wrists caught tight in . . . manacles. But her feet were dragging the floor.
Stumbling, she righted herself, pushing herself to her feet, easing the pressure on her wrists, which were, apparently, chained to the stone wall behind her. If only she could as easily relieve the pounding in her head.
The last thing she remembered was . . . wolves.
Her heart began to race as it all came back, how the wolves had surrounded them, attacked them. How, for once, she'd managed to use her power for defense, but she'd been unable to keep Arturo from getting caught in it, too. How impossible it had been to hit the wolves with her bullets even at close range. Or, if she had hit them and didn't know it, how impossible they'd been to kill. Only one had gone down, and he hadn't stayed there for long.
Ultimately, none of it had been enough. One of them had shifted into a man and slammed his fist into her jaw. Lights out.
Had Arturo gotten away?
Blinking, she found herself deep in the shadows, ribbons of light teasing the dirt floor beneath her feet as a torch flickered outside the bars of her prison cell, just out of sight.
Why would they chain her up inside a prison cell? Talk about redundant. Then again, they knew she was a sorceress. Maybe they thought this would keep her power in check. Wouldn't they be in for a surprise? She doubted chaining her would stop anything. Anything but her ability to escape.
Rolling her shoulders eased the ache in her arms as she listened to the faint rumble of voices in the distance. Above her, the ceiling appeared to be nothing but rock, as if she were deep beneath the ground.
A prisoner of werewolves.
Hell.
Tipping her throbbing head carefully against the rock, she sighed, her heart rate slowly returning to normal, which under the circumstances, it probably shouldn't. If they had an ounce of sense, they'd realize she was the only one who might be able to save Vamp City. They'd be fools to hurt her.
"Vampire?" she called softly, but no reply met her ears. Her heart clutched as it occurred to her that he might not have survived.
The thought stunned her. He had to have survived. Arturo Mazza could not be gone. Not after six hundred years. Not like this.