The Dying Light (Bloodwitch #1)

‘You’re Saga, aren’t you?’ he said, as he approached the cage. He did not need to ask. It was as though he were looking at her older sister in miniature.

The little girl had shrunk back to the far end of the cage. Her huge, dark eyes darted between his face and the gun in his hand. ‘L-Leave me alone,’ she said, her small voice wobbling.

With deliberately slow movements, Charlie placed the gun on the ground, so that it was as far away from the cage as his reach would allow. ‘Don’t be scared,’ he said, softening his voice as he held his hands up to the wire to show her they were empty. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

She watched him with wide eyes, her body still frozen with fear. ‘Who are you?’

‘I’m Charlie, and I’m here to rescue you.’

’You are?’ She whispered the last word a little breathlessly, her eyes filling with tears.

‘It’s all right to cry,’ Charlie said, keeping his voice even, as he fought to steady his emotions. ‘I promise you, this feeling won’t last forever.’ He drew the bobby pin from his hair and fitted it into the lock at the front of her cage. ‘I’m going to get you out now,’ he told her.

Saga kept her gaze fixed on him as the lock clicked free. Charlie opened the door to the cage and offered her his hand. She had shuffled forward a little but seemed unable to force herself to move any closer towards him. Crouching down, Charlie held out his arms inside the cage, their faces level with one another.

‘Is it all right with you if I pick you up?’ he asked. ‘I want to take you to a safe place.’

Saga reached out for him with a tiny nod of her head, her tears still falling. ‘Please?’

Charlie gathered her into his arms, protecting her head with one of his hands as he drew her out of the cage. Once she was out, he straightened up, holding her close to his chest and gently rocking her to and fro. The warm weight of her in his arms was a familiar sensation. She stared up into his face with long-lashed eyes, her thumb in her mouth. She was smaller than Ruby had been.

‘I forgot to tell you,’ he said, ‘I’m friends with your sister. Did you know that?’

‘With Seren?’ Saga shifted a little in his arms, her face brightening up at once.

‘That’s right,’ Charlie said, nodding as the sight of her toothy smile sent a grin spreading across his own face. ‘She’s a good friend of mine. Did you know she’s been looking for you, all this time?’ He brushed a tear from her cheek. ‘Seren loves you very much, Saga.’

Huge tears welled up in the little girl’s eyes, falling silently. ‘I want my big sister …’

Charlie held her closer to his body. ‘You’ll see her again soon,’ he said. ‘Believe me?’

Then he heard a gun being cocked behind him, followed by the sound of a cool, drawling voice. ‘It didn’t have to be like this, Charlie,’ Faulkner said. ‘Turn around – slowly.’

Charlie did as he was told. Faulkner stood a couple of paces away from him, his gun pointed directly between Charlie’s eyes. Charlie’s gaze flitted from his own gun, discarded on the floor, to Faulkner’s triumphant sneer, to Saga’s frightened face. With a gentle touch, he tilted her face towards his chest, away from the sight of the gun.

‘Close your eyes,’ he told her.

Faulkner lowered his gun, pointing it at Saga. ‘My aim is better than yours, you know.’

Charlie stared back at him, statuesque, his blood boiling.

Faulkner raised an eyebrow. ‘What is this obsession you have with waifs and strays, Charlie? I’m beginning to see a pattern …’

‘What do you want?’ Charlie managed to ask, as Saga bunched his t-shirt in her fist.

Faulkner’s smug smile twisted the scar across his mouth. ‘I want you to put her back.’

His body stiff with tension, Charlie turned, placing Saga back into the cage. ‘Your sister is coming, Saga,’ he told her, as quietly as he could, while she stared up at him desperately, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘She’ll get you out of here, I promise. She hasn’t forgotten about you. Don’t give up, all right?’

‘Lock her in,’ Faulkner ordered, making no attempt to mask the pleasure in his words.

Charlie snapped the lock back in place and met Saga’s eyes. Something pierced his heart at the sight of the little girl’s anxious expression as she stared back at him.

‘Don’t be scared,’ he said to her – he begged her, his voice cracking on the words. ‘Everything’s going to be fine.’

‘Get on your knees with your hands behind your head,’ Faulkner said, his voice flat as he watched Charlie follow his orders. ‘You even think about trying anything, and she’s dead.’

‘Leave her alone,’ Charlie snarled, as Saga whimpered in the cage. ‘It’s me you want.’

‘And now I’ve got you,’ Faulkner said. He approached Charlie, lifting his chin with the muzzle of his gun, so that Charlie was forced to raise his eyes to Faulkner’s arrogant face. ‘It’s a shame. That’s another person you’ve let down, isn’t it? The list must be getting fairly long by now.’ He shook his head, his smile broadening. ‘You are such a disappointment.’

‘I hope I never stop disappointing you,’ Charlie said, relishing the words, his face set.

Faulkner heaved a sigh. ‘You’re going to wish you had just done as you were told.’

Charlie caught the flash of movement as Faulkner drew back the hand holding his gun. He heard the crack of metal against bone as Faulkner pistol-whipped him straight across the face. Saga was crying out his name.

He was on the floor, his head spinning. There was blood everywhere. His hands throbbed dully with pain. He had not noticed how much it hurt until now.

Then there was only darkness.

*

‘Rise and shine, sleepyhead.’

‘Wh-Where am I?’

Charlie became aware of himself in stages. He was on his feet, lashed to a steel support pole in the middle of a dimly lit room. Heavy chains bound his chest, legs, and ankles. His restraints were tight enough that they rubbed painfully against his skin when he shifted his body to test their strength. His arms, chained above him, felt like lead. There was blood on his skin where it had dripped down from his hands. With his wrists shackled, he could barely move.

He was trapped.

With difficulty, Charlie’s eyes focused on the shape before him. Hunting knife in hand, Dragomir was watching him with a dangerous, almost elated look in his bright, cold eyes.

‘It’s been a while,’ he said, smirking. ‘No kiss good morning? Didn’t you miss me?’

‘You …’ Charlie gritted his teeth, fury blazing inside him as he strained against the chains holding him still. ’You motherf–!’

His head snapped to the side as Dragomir struck him. Skin burning, icy rage slowing his movements, Charlie turned his face back towards his captor, glaring at the man who stood leering in front of him.

‘You’ve been busy, haven’t you?’ Dragomir sounded amused. He took a step forwards, his muscular arms folded, his eyes trailing along Charlie’s body. ‘I’m told you even went on a little playdate after our last encounter. Did I leave you wanting more?’

Charlie froze at the sly, knowing look on Dragomir’s face. He refused to think about what it meant. ‘Where is she?’ he demanded, a low growl in his voice. ‘What the fuck have you done to her?’

Dragomir placed his hand on Charlie’s scarred shoulder and pushed him back against the metal pole, smirking at the whine of pain that Charlie could not help but let escape. It was only then that Charlie realised he had still been straining his body against the chains. His neck was stiff with tension, the skin around his wrists already rubbed raw. Dragomir took in Charlie’s furious expression with a brief chuckle, as though he was mildly entertained by it.

‘Now, whatever happened to my obedient little prisoner from up on the roof?’ he asked. His tone was playful as he placed the point of his knife to Charlie’s chin and nicked the skin, tipping his face to one side. ‘Although, I have to admit,’ he added silkily, bringing the blade up to brush Charlie’s eyelashes, ‘I do have a soft spot for your aggressive side. Not planning to fight me, today?’

Charlie held himself very still, forcing himself not to blink. His heart was trembling.

‘You haven’t realised yet, have you?’ Dragomir continued, trailing the flat of the blade down Charlie’s cheek and delivering a sharp smack against his jaw with it. ‘That traitor Kovalev isn’t here to protect you this time. No one’s coming to save you.’ He stepped even closer, his breath hot against Charlie’s neck. ‘If anyone cared about you, don’t you think they would have got here by now? You’re alone.’

‘No.’ Charlie felt every muscle in his body lock into place as Dragomir strode casually behind him. ‘Don’t.’

‘Which means,’ Dragomir continued, his voice a low rumble in Charlie’s ear as he brought his hand around Charlie’s throat and began, almost tenderly, to squeeze, ‘we can pick up right where we left off …’

It had begun when Dragomir had stepped out of his line of sight. Charlie had gradually started to feel somehow separate from himself. It was as though his body belonged to someone else, and the real Charlie was elsewhere, watching everything that was happening to him unfold from a distance. If he saw his body as a stranger, closed himself off, he knew he could survive this.

But, almost as though he were dragging Charlie on the end of a chain, Dragomir’s voice forced him back to himself. Charlie knew then that the soldier would refuse to allow him any kind of escape. There were hands on his hips, moving him into position. Terror flooded him, along with searing pain.

‘You thought you could kidnap the First Daughter?’ The words were laced with violence. ‘You thought you could humiliate me? Look at the state of you now, you worthless punk.’

‘You’re – wrong,’ Charlie managed to grind out the words. ‘She’s a –’ He fought not to say the word. He would not betray his friend. Not for anything. ‘She – uh – she wanted to leave.’

‘Why would she want that?’

’To get away from you? How the hell should I know?’

Dragomir had gone dangerously still. His grip tightened around Charlie’s throat, his fingers pressing down on Charlie’s windpipe, choking him. ‘Lady Alexandra is of great value to me,’ he murmured, as, wide-eyed and panic-stricken, Charlie fought for breath under his grip. ‘I guess there’s something in particular you wanted from her … and I’m going to make you pay for that.’

‘Huh?’ Charlie wheezed, as Dragomir released his throat. ‘I didn’t want anything …’

Dragomir had stopped. He strode back into Charlie’s eyeline, his shoulders rising and falling with exertion. Charlie watched, hardly daring to breathe, as Dragomir removed a length of chain, and what looked like a metal pipe, from a hessian sack lying by the door.

‘I brought some toys for us to play with.’ Charlie watched a vicious smile spread across the soldier’s face as Dragomir took in his expression. ‘Don’t you worry,’ he said, prowling back towards Charlie, his voice almost becoming a purr as he added, ‘I’ll make sure you enjoy this too.’

Dragomir brought his face close to Charlie’s, his twisted smile broadening, his eyes on Charlie’s lips. There was a rushing in Charlie’s ears. When he felt Dragomir’s fingers pushing into his mouth, instinct took over.

Without thinking, he crunched down on them. He heard Dragomir’s yell of surprise and pain, and was promptly rewarded with a backhanded slap, tasting copper in his mouth. He felt the cold metal of the chain as Dragomir wound it around his neck and pulled.

‘You like it rough, you little whore?’

With a strangled moan, Charlie brought his eyes back up to meet Dragomir’s. He was going to die here. That much was obvious. A reckless smile sliding across his face, he drew on all the reserves of strength and impotent rage he had left. Arching his neck, he sucked up all the blood that was swirling around inside his mouth and spat directly into Dragomir’s face.

Dragomir let his grip on the chain around Charlie’s neck go slack. His face darkened, his eyes flashing as he wiped away the blood. ‘You’re going to regret that, you damn hustler,’ he growled, his fingers reaching for the knife at his belt.

‘Touch me again and I’ll kill you.’ The taste of blood was thick on Charlie’s tongue. ‘I’ll fucking kill you.’

For a second, Dragomir seemed not to know how to react. He blinked in surprise, ran a hand over his face, then threw his head back and laughed.

‘Honestly, Carroway, sometimes you’re too much,’ he said at last, wiping away a tear as he mastered himself and smirked at Charlie’s livid expression. ‘But really, I think it’s about time to shut you up.’

Charlie, who had been struggling hard against the chains binding him to the steel pole, stilled as Dragomir returned to the hessian sack. When he turned back, Charlie saw he was holding a metal ring in his hand, two leather straps trailing between his fingers. As Dragomir strode leisurely back towards him, Charlie fought harder, but it was no use. The chains would not give even an inch.

‘I may not be able to kill you – yet.’ Dragomir gripped the back of Charlie’s head and yanked at his hair, forcing the metal ring between his teeth as he cried out in pain. ‘But I don’t have to. I’m going to break you instead.’

Through watering eyes, Charlie sensed the soldier moving behind him again, felt Dragomir securing the leather straps of the gag behind his head. The metal ring between his teeth not only forced his mouth open painfully wide but prevented him from closing it either. A strip of metal kept his tongue in place, so that any sounds he made were muffled and unintelligible. Drool was already beginning to spill down his chin. He shuddered and, bracing himself, kept struggling.

‘You think this is bad?’ Dragomir murmured, and Charlie froze as he felt Dragomir’s knuckles brushing down his spine. ‘Trust me, I haven’t even begun yet. You don’t have to hold back this time. Scream as much as you want. No one’s coming to save you, remember?’

Charlie stiffened as he felt Dragomir’s breath on his lower back. His tongue began to lick across the words of the brand stamped across Charlie’s tailbone, caressing each letter one by one. Certain he was going to vomit, Charlie bucked and twisted against the chains keeping him still, his desperate sounds muffled by the gag in his mouth. He wanted to rip his skin off.

A cascade of memories collided with one another as he was wrenched, inextricably, back to his years of captivity. Hands on his skin; moans in his ear; the warm, inescapable weight of bodies crushing him – and then the white-hot agony and smell of burning flesh as he screamed himself hoarse, certain he would not survive, that he could not withstand the pain.

‘I wonder if I might drag you away from your pleasure for a moment, Lieutenant?’

Charlie looked up, horrified at the idea that someone else would be witness to this.

‘Sire. What are you doing here?’ Dragomir stopped quickly. ‘I hadn’t expected –’

‘You know how seriously I take my responsibility for the welfare of my possessions.’

The Great Protector spoke in a lazy drawl, an edge of cruel humour in his voice as he came to stand within touching distance of Charlie. His hands clasped behind his back, Nikolai Ignatiev bent his spine slightly, surveying Charlie with a thoughtful look on his face. There was a gleam in his eye that sent Charlie hopelessly, desperately straining against the chains that bound him.

‘What a sight,’ he murmured. He hooked a long finger around the metal ring in Charlie’s mouth and started manoeuvring his head from side to side, as though examining a captured animal. ‘After all these years of searching, you are finally mine.’

‘Sire …’ Dragomir, who had come to stand beside his master, threw a confused frown at Charlie. ‘What are you saying?’

‘The results are conclusive,’ the Great Protector said, letting go of Charlie’s head and trailing his fingers along the chains binding his chest to the steel pole. ‘He is the one.’

’What?’ Dragomir’s lip curled as he took an involuntary step backwards.

Nikolai Ignatiev smiled as he moved his hands behind Charlie’s head, releasing the straps that held the gag in place. Their eyes met, and Charlie found himself unable to look away. The Great Protector’s eyes were unusually bright, the colour of grass in late spring.

‘It looks to me as though you could use a helping hand,’ he said, with a pleasant smile.

With some hesitation, Charlie opened his mouth wider, allowing the middle-aged man to remove the metal ring from between his teeth. The Great Protector turned it over in his hands, one eyebrow raised, something close to amusement on his face. Then he cast it aside, wiping the drool from his fingers on the sleeve of Charlie’s t-shirt.

‘Let me ask you something,’ he said, his voice soft and polite. ‘When you close your eyes and picture yourself, what do you see? Do you perhaps see yourself as I see you now?’

Burning with shame, Charlie blinked back furious tears. As though tired of waiting for his answer, Nikolai Ignatiev curled the chain that was still wound around Charlie’s neck through his fingers. An almost fond smile brightening his sharp features, he jerked Charlie’s head forward with one powerful movement.

‘Nothing to say?’

‘Please stop.’ Charlie heard his own voice, small and exhausted. Broken. ‘It hurts …’

Charlie felt his limbs begin to shake as Nikolai Ignatiev grasped his chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting Charlie’s face up to his own. ‘My prize …’ he murmured. ‘You do not know how long I have waited for this day to arrive.’ The gleam in his bright eyes and the fanatical edge to his smile made his face take on a mask-like appearance. ‘And to think, they said you were a common thief …’ His eyes roved over Charlie’s face, now beaded with sweat. ‘Who could have known you would turn out to be such a special prisoner?’

Dragomir looked faintly nauseated. ‘You don’t mean …’

Charlie yelped with pain as Nikolai Ignatiev grabbed a fistful of his hair and shook his head in Dragomir’s direction. ‘You don’t see the family resemblance?’ he asked mildly.

Releasing his grip, he stroked his fingers through Charlie’s hair, a cruel smile lifting the corner of his mouth, as though his mind had lighted on a particularly pleasant memory.

‘I was acquainted with your mother for a time, did you know that?’ he said, still in the same conversational tone of voice, with only a hint of threat. ‘Sweet, gentle Erin … I don’t see much of her in you.’

’Don’t!’ Charlie jerked his head away. ‘Don’t talk about – about my mother …’

‘Tell me, is she still alive? I hope she remembers our time together fondly – I certainly do.’ Nikolai Ignatiev let out a soft laugh. ’I did so enjoy having her as my plaything, even if it was only for a brief spell.’

Charlie felt himself growing cold, his ears ringing. ‘No …’

‘She managed to twist out of my grasp in the end, regrettably. She ran off as soon as she managed to get my property out of her. Well, you never can trust a witch, I suppose.’

’Stop.’ Charlie screwed up his eyes, fighting back the tears that burnt behind them.

That same laugh again. ‘You’re emotional. Good. I have high hopes for you.’ He flicked idly at the chain hanging from Charlie’s neck with his long, slender fingers. ‘Perhaps you will prove to be even more interesting than she was …’

Clenching his fists, Charlie stared up at the cold face in front of him. ’Get the fuck on with it, then!’

Dragomir lunged forward with a strangled curse but halted in his tracks when Nikolai Ignatiev raised a hand. He was now looking genuinely entertained.

‘A promising start,’ he said, stifling a chuckle with one hand in front of his mouth. ‘If I can be honest with you, I am curious to discover how long you will be able to hold out.’ He looked between Charlie and Dragomir, a dangerous smile spreading across his face. ‘I hope you two have had enough fun – playtime is over.’

‘Don’t come near me!’ Charlie snarled, shifting helplessly against his restraints.

He let out a cry of pain as Nikolai Ignatiev lashed out with a knife, which he had drawn from his sleeve without warning. Charlie saw his own blood dripping down his forearm from a long, shallow cut. When he looked closer, he recognised the knife that was grasped in the Great Protector’s hand. It was the same knife Dragomir had kicked out of his hand on the rooftop after executing his family. His own.

Charlie watched as the Great Protector whirled the knife in his fingers, examining it with interest before holding the blade against Charlie’s cheek. With a smirk, he applied the slightest bit more pressure, and drew a light cut along Charlie’s cheekbone. Charlie glared back at him, flinching, but forced himself not to betray any other reaction.

‘You seem to have an unusually high tolerance for pain,’ Nikolai Ignatiev murmured, seeming only vaguely interested in this observation. ‘So you will have to be patient with us, while we see if you are fit to be put to any real use.’

‘Sire, might I?’ Dragomir had stepped forward, hunting knife in hand. His eyes were fixed on Charlie, who had to fight not to be physically sick at the look on his face.

‘I would hardly deny you that pleasure, Lieutenant,’ the Great Protector said, smirking. ‘But we must make sure to take our time with him.’ He drew his fingers along Charlie’s cut face and brought them to his mouth, his tongue tasting Charlie’s blood. ‘This prisoner of ours is unlike any of the others. He deserves our closest attention, our finest treatment.’

Charlie, who had closed his eyes, trembling, felt one of his eyelids being prized open. He found himself unable to look away, horrified at what he saw. Nikolai Ignatiev’s face was hovering right in the corner of his vision, his grin wide and terrifying.

‘I wonder,’ he mused, as he twirled the knife in his other hand, ‘how much of your blood will we have to shed before you show us your true face?’