But seeing him here brought a surge of hope rushing up from the bleakness encompassing her life. This man was one of Ronan’s Defenders! Had he come here to free them? She’d given up hope of being discovered so many hours ago, but had someone finally found them? Were they going to be set free?
Her hope vanished when she took a good look at the vampire with the scar. That scar sliced straight down from his deep brown hairline, through his right eyebrow and eyelid, to the center of his cheek where it stopped. How he hadn’t lost his eye when he endured the injury, she didn’t know, but he hadn’t.
The last time she’d seen him, his eyes were the color of gold; now they were the red color she associated with monsters. Then he’d been one of Ronan’s men, an ally to the hunters, but now he stood in the center of her enemies, and he didn’t wear chains.
She didn’t understand what was happening or why he was here, but instinctively she knew he wasn’t the same vampire she’d encountered on the beach. She sniffed at the air; however, trying to differentiate his resin scent from the garbage stench of the rest of these monsters was impossible.
Killean held Simone’s white-blue eyes before turning away. Unlike a vampire, whose eyes became red with emotion, hunger, or loss of control, a turned hunter possessed that striking, white-blue color.
If he didn’t stop looking at her, he would go to her, tear the chains from her thin wrists, and rip her away from the others. He wanted to demolish this place with his bare hands, shred the Savages closest to him, and rain down Hell on all those who’d harmed her, but he was vastly outnumbered, and they would stop him before he could free her.
And if he tried to free her, he would give his real purpose for being here away. He’d sacrificed himself and his relationship with the Defenders to make it here; he wouldn’t let it be for nothing. No matter how much it killed him to do so, he had to restrain himself from going after her.
The image of her wrists chained to the concrete wall next to her head, and her white-blue eyes, haunted him as the Savages started walking again. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to continue with them.
The last time he’d seen Simone, she was prim and proper in her ankle-length dress with her hair in a bun. The sun’s rays playing across her hair brought out the strands of copper, mahogany, and vivid red in it. Her demure dress and placid demeanor did nothing to hide her beauty, but judging by the ardor of her kiss, they did conceal a passionate woman yearning to break free of the confines placed on her by her hunter heritage.
He’d barely recognized the woman trapped here. Dirt and blood caked the black, floor-length dress she wore. Streaks of brown and red marred her delicate features, and her previously glorious and bound hair tumbled around her shoulders and down her back in lank, greasy locks that appeared to be a dank brown rather than the glorious auburn they were.
She was as far from the ice princess hunter image she’d portrayed on the beach as she could get. Simone was no longer a pretty dolly, and though he’d always believed he would relish the sight of a humbled hunter, he loathed the broken air surrounding her.
He had to get her out of this place, but first, he had to stay alive, and to do so, he must keep walking away from her. These Savages were taking him to Joseph, and if anyone could see through the new role he was trying to portray, it would be his fellow fallen defender.
Trying to portray? You’ve killed seven men in the past two nights.
The reminder of that death didn’t bother him as much as it had in the beginning. He’d killed those who deserved it. Four were child molesters set free because of overcrowded jails or technicalities, two were convicted rapists on the streets for the same reasons, and the other was Arlo.
He’d fed on one of the rapists hours ago, and when he finished, he felt ready to try his hand at tracking down these Savages and handing himself over to be brought to Joseph. At first, he’d been afraid they might try to kill him, and he’d have to destroy them and find different Savages, but after a phone call, they agreed to do it.
Killean suspected they’d called Joseph and their leader demanded they bring Killean to him. If it were a setup, Joseph would get the chance to destroy one of Ronan’s men, and if it wasn’t, Killean could be a significant asset to whatever Joseph planned.
When the call ended, the Savages bound, gagged, blindfolded, stripped, and searched him before shoving him into the trunk of a car. He had no idea where they were, as they’d driven around for hours. These bastards had either taken the most confusing route they could before bringing him here, or they’d left Massachusetts far behind.
Wherever they were, he was alone here, and if he couldn’t convince Joseph he was one of them, he would die soon.
Chapter Three
Killean glanced at the concrete walls surrounding him as the Savages slipped out the door behind him. The room they’d led him into was circular, and the gray walls were bare. Like the hallway where Simone was chained, recessed lights set into the concrete ceiling cast a dim glow across the desk in the center of the room and the man sitting behind it.
Everything he’d seen of this place had a bunker feel to it. Judging by the scent of damp earth he detected beyond the walls, they were underground. However, instead of the stale air of the old sewer tunnels where a nest of Savages had been discovered, the air here was fresher and, he suspected, filtered. The temperature in the place was also comfortable and must be as regulated as the air.
They may be below ground, but this was most certainly no sewer tunnel or any other tunnel running beneath the city. But then they could be far from Boston.
“Killean,” Joseph purred.
Rising from the black leather chair he’d been perched on, Joseph stood behind the massive, walnut desk in the middle of the room. Joseph planted his hands on the desk and leaned forward as his gaze ran over Killean’s naked frame. Killean suspected part of the reason they’d stripped him was to intimidate him.
It hadn’t work. He’d endured far worse humiliation and degradation in his lifetime; this was nothing in comparison.
Holding out his arms, Killean turned in a slow circle before facing Joseph again. “Do you like what you see?” he asked.
Joseph’s smile revealed the tips of his glistening fangs. With his golden-brown hair brushed back from his face, the narrowness of Joseph’s features was more noticeable. At six foot two, Joseph was an inch shorter than Killean but stockier in build and about ten pounds heavier than Killean’s two-hundred-ten-pound frame.
“Ah, Killean, I never would have guessed you had a sense of humor,” Joseph murmured.
That was because he didn’t have one.
“So why have you come to us?” Joseph inquired when Killean didn’t respond.
“You know why.”
“Do I?”
Killean hadn’t spent much time with Joseph when they were Defenders. Joseph had spent most of his time in the training facility with the recruits, most of whom were turned vampires rather than purebred ones.
At the time, turned vampires were allowed to train with the Defenders to fight Savages, but only purebred ones made it into their inner circle. That changed when Joseph started creating Savage vampires and the Alliance formed. After he turned Savage, Joseph had recruited some of his old trainees to join his new cause.