Chapter Eight
When I woke up again I was in the back of Chase's Jeep. I was handcuffed. I really wasn't sure why. Morgana and Chase were sitting up front; Chase driving and Morgana arguing with him about something. It sounded like a normal family squabble. Except, I knew they weren't a normal family. I was sitting behind Chase's seat, handcuffed, my feet tied together, and, to top it all off, strapped to the seat by the seatbelt. Granted, I did believe in wearing seatbelts no matter what because they did save lives, but I felt ridiculously trapped. Morgana looked over her shoulder to check on me and laughed upon seeing that I was awake. If I could have gotten any kind of leverage, I would have kicked her. "How are you doing back there, Kayla?" she asked.
"Don't taunt her," Chase said in a warning tone. He kept his eyes on the road ahead, but he gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Obviously he wasn't very happy about the current situation. Well, that made two of us. I would have told Morgana exactly what I thought about her and this entire mess, but of course I couldn't speak past the gag in my mouth. Yeah, that's right. Gag. I was so not a happy camper. Honestly, what was the point of the gag? Being tied up, I could live with. We all knew that if I had woken up and hadn't been tied up, I would have tried to do some serious damage. But the gag? It didn't help when a little voice in my head whispered, Maybe they just didn't want to hear your mouth.
We were no longer in the cute suburban area where Morgana, and most likely Chase too, lived. Now we were deep in the heart of Los Angeles. I knew that somewhere around this area, Stavros owned a skyscraper. It was where his lair was located. Granted, I had never been there, and I had never planned to go there. Ten bucks said that was where they were taking me. Briefly I wondered how good my chances were survival were. Most likely, Stavros was going to kill me or have me killed when I got there. I could either be passive and let myself be executed, or I could fight. If I fought, considering that the whole building was full of God knew how many vampires and wereanimals, I could maybe last an hour, if I was lucky. My day just kept getting worse.
We pulled into a large parking lot across from an even larger black skyscraper. I was betting that was Stavros' lair. Once upon a time I had wondered why Mikhail, who was over a thousand years old, would choose to have the entrance to his lair in a grimy old warehouse. I could see that Stavros did not share Mikhail's same mentality--he was choosing to spend eternity in style. Chase and Morgana got out of the vehicle and opened the back doors, one of them standing on each side. Chase was closest to me, and undid the seatbelt. Then he bent towards my ankles. To get away from him, I'd have to scoot closer to Morgana, and I was so not ready to get any closer to her than I absolutely had to. He untied my feet, and I had a moment to debate whether or not I should kick him in the face. I decided on not, since I had my back to Morgana, and she might just reach in and pull out my heart if I hurt Chase. Yeah, that was a worst-case scenario, but it could happen.
Chase reached towards my face so that he could remove my gag. Something in my eyes stopped him. "We won't hurt you if you don't scream," he said.
"So by all means, scream," came Morgana's voice from behind me.
Chase removed my gag, then, just in time for me to tell Morgana, "I'll never scream. Not for you."
Morgana laughed again, and this time her laugh reminded me of ruffling fur. "So brave," she said.
Chase looked past me to stare at his sister. He didn't even have to say anything, that dark look on his face was enough to shut even Morgana up. Now that I was completely unbound except for the handcuffs, he grabbed my arm--not too forcibly--and hauled me out of the Jeep. The wind blew my long red hair into my face so that I couldn't see anything. I tried to get the hair of my mouth, but without hands the effort kind was of useless. That was when I felt fingers on my lips, pulling the hair away gently. I didn't say thank you to Chase, and my face was perfectly blank so that it wouldn't betray my confusion, and anger. Confusion at him, for being so cruel yet kind at the same time. Anger at myself, for liking it just a little too much.
He started walking across the parking lot, still holding my arm. If I was a normal human, he would have been bruising my arm, but I wasn't a normal human. An old vampire had once told me that slayers were actually more like vampires than humans. I hadn't wanted to believe him at the time, but sometimes I thought that maybe the old bloodsucker had known just what he was talking about. Morgana fell in step behind me so that people passing by wouldn't pay too much attention to the handcuffs. A light at the end of the street turned red, so we were able to walk across the pavement without having to worry about getting hit by crazy drivers. Once we were across the street and safely on the side-walk I noticed something I hadn't noticed before. A guard standing at the bottom of the steps leading up to the building's door. It worried me that I hadn't noticed the guard. Was I losing my touch, or were there still too many of those damn tea-drugs in my system?
The guard looked me over as we approached, and I couldn't tell if he was amused or not by my current predicament. His face was the epitome of body-guard faces; completely blank. I wondered if people walked past him and tried to make him smile, like they do in England for the queen's guards. While he was looking me over I looked him over. Three guns that I could see, maybe more that I couldn't. The only reason I could see the three was because he wanted to be obvious to people with a trained eye. Otherwise I would never have known. He turned his attention to Morgana once he was satisfied that the handcuffs were real and that I wasn't packing.
"Miss Kraemer," he said in greeting. His voice was thick with a German accent. His buzz-cut hair was blonde, and I was sure behind those dark sunglasses were a set of baby-blues.
"Good morning, Leopold," Morgana said crisply, her voice completely business-like. It was almost fascinating, how quickly she could change from playfully torturous to all business. I looked at the guard--Leopold. Sweet Jesus. He gave Morgana a curt nod, and she walked past him to the door. Chase and I followed, him still holding my arm hard enough to bruise a normal person. If he held me like that long enough, I would probably bruise despite not being normal.
The inside of the lobby was, well, amazing. The entire place was white. I don't mean the off-white color that's seen in most places. I'm talking white. The baseboards along the walls were all black. Furniture was all black--very modern, with lots of square patterns and such what. I would probably have enjoyed it more if I wasn't being dragged through it in handcuffs. The woman sitting behind the reception desk along the wall looked up for the briefest of seconds to see who was walking through the lobby. "He's on the Torture Floor," is all she said.
Torture Floor? I really didn't like the sound of that. Morgana led us towards sleek black elevators. I really didn't like that, either. I have a mortal fear of elevators. Yeah, I know, I'm this big, bad vampire slayer, but complete darkness and elevators scare me. The doors slid open and Morgana stepped inside, followed by Chase, who dragged me behind him. I was fine until the doors shut. As soon as they were closed, that mentality that I was trapped inside set in, and my body tensed up. Chase looked at me. "You don't like elevators, do you?" he asked.
"Gee, was it that obvious?" I asked, not looking at him, but looking all around us at the elevator. I saw Morgana press the "six" button. Floor six. The Torture Floor. Sweet Jesus. Chase just frowned at me, but lessened his grip on my arm. It was meant to be comforting. It really wasn't. The only thing I like about elevators is that the initial ride only lasts a few seconds. In no time at all the doors were sliding open, and I could breathe again. Morgana stepped out, and we followed. The Torture Floor had an ugly stone floor, grey walls, and flourescent lighting. There were no outward signs of anything torturous, unless you counted the random stains that covered the floor that had once been fresh puddles of blood. We were walking along the corridor when a door opened. Morgana stopped, looking tense, as if she wasn't quite sure what would come out of the door.
It was a child. A boy who was no more than eleven or twelve years old. The moment I saw him, I flinched. His all-white outfit was soaked with bright red blood, and the knife he held in his hand was drenched in blood, as well. I tried to take a step back from him, but Chase's grip on my arm made it impossible. Morgana and Chase both bowed their heads to the boy, who returned the gesture. "Hello, Antonio," Morgana said.
"Morgana," the boy said. His voice was cultured and more mature-sounding than it should have been. His blood-covered hand reached out and took Morgana's outstretched one, and he laid a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Always a pleasure." I blanched, I couldn't help it. Nothing about this was right, at all. The boy--Antonio--seemed to sense my discomfort, because he turned to me with an amused smile on his face. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" he asked.
"Well, I won't lie to you," I said. "You're a bit creepy." Antonio just smiled wider, baring his fangs. A vampire. Sweet Jesus, a fucking child vampire. Believe it or not, I had never seen a child vampire before. I had heard of them, but never before had I seen one. Someone had once told me a child vampire was one of the most terrible things in the world. I hadn't believe them until I met Antonio. Sure, Mikhail had been sixteen, but there's quite a difference between sixteen and eleven.
"Antonio," Morgana said, "this is Kayla Atrelic." He took a step forward, and I tried to step back even though I knew it was a wasted effort. Something glittered in Antonio's eyes, something that I didn't like at all. Jesus, I had never been so creeped out in my life as I was by him.
"The monster slayer," he said quietly, looking me up and down, as if he was wondering what I'd taste like if he could have me for dinner. "Somehow I pictured you...differently."
"I get that a lot," I said. I tried to act natural; I didn't want him knowing how much he got to me. Although, he probably could smell the fear on me, but that didn't matter. Antonio opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment yet another door opened. The man who walked out of that doorway was...well, to tell the truth he was just gorgeous. Very tall, with tanned skin, long, curly brown hair, eyes so dark they were almost black. Almost worse than those good looks, however, was the energy that made the air around him practically waver. It screamed, "Vampire!" As soon as I felt his energy I jumped, startled. Feeling that energy was exactly like being slapped in the face. I had only ever met one vampire who had that kind of power before--I know what you're thinking and no, it wasn't Mikhail--and that really hadn't been a pleasant experience.
He smiled as if he knew exactly why I had jumped, and he enjoyed that he had that sort of effect. Without realizing it, I moved closer to Chase, and was too embarrassed to move away once I realized what I had done. The vampire smiled, not bothering to hide his glistening white fangs. "Hello, Kayla," he said. I could feel my eyes go wide; how had he known my name? I'd like to think that he already knew who I was, but I couldn't help but feel as if he'd peeked into my mind to find out my name. If he was powerful enough to look in my mind without me knowing, then he was going on my list of people not to trust, right under Morgana. Or maybe before her. Yeah, I distrusted him that much already.
The strange vampire took a step towards us, and Chase, Morgana, and Antonio all dropped to their knees, their heads bowed. I looked from them kneeling on the floor back to the vampire, and suddenly I knew who he was. I was looking at Stavros, Los Angeles' Master Vampire.
