Chains of Darkness (Men in Chains 2)

Chapter 1

Claire Turner hid at the end of a long cavern tunnel, deep in the shadows. Her nerves were like fire on her skin. Guards moved in and out of a nearby prison cell, some with whips and Tasers, others with cleanup gear. The air smelled damp and musty as though death came often to this part of the world.

Her heart slammed against her ribcage. She’d been thrust into a secret cavern-based vampire society with the task of rescuing a prisoner, a famous warrior called Lucian, from his captivity.

She didn’t even know where she was exactly. Rumy, the small Italian vampire who had left her here, had said something about Malaysia. He’d dropped her off just minutes ago, told her to trust her instincts, then insisted repeatedly that she’d be fine, just fine. Like hell.

She took deep breaths. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, risking her life by agreeing to what now seemed like a ridiculous plan. What did a social worker from New Mexico know about running covert operations?

But Lucian had become the key to finding her best friend, Zoey, who had been abducted two years ago and was now caught in some kind of sex slavery in this part of the world. According to Rumy, Lucian was the only vampire who could help find Zoey.

Lucian. She could feel him now and even sensed his location, and all because of the single strand of small, dark metal links she wore around her neck: blood-chains. She carried a matching chain in her pocket and once Lucian put it on, he’d have enough power to break out of the prison. Or at least, that’s what Rumy said he hoped would happen.

Several guards left the adjacent tunnel that led to Lucian’s cell, leaving only one behind now, but she wouldn’t be able to make her move until Lucian was finally alone.

None of the vampires even glanced in her direction, which meant they couldn’t see her, another reality she struggled to comprehend. Despite the fact that she was a mere human, the blood-chains she wore had somehow sparked an innate ability she possessed to create something called a “disguise” and which acted as an invisible shield around her.

So much was at stake in this moment that her heart thumped in her ears. If she failed to rescue Lucian and was caught, she’d probably be sent into sex slavery herself or even killed outright. Though given a choice, she was pretty sure she’d prefer the latter.

More than once while waiting, she’d thought about going in and wrapping Lucian up with the same disguise that kept the guards from seeing her. However, any guard who happened to enter the prison cell and found Lucian gone would shout an alarm. No, the moment she extended her disguise to include Lucian would have to be the same time she left with him.

She drew a few deep breaths trying to get calm. Then as the last guard left and disappeared down the hall, she moved swiftly through a short adjoining tunnel that led to the large cell lit by torchlight. Moving off to the right, she entered a sloping pit that ended with a smooth wall.

And Lucian.

The sight of him stopped her cold. He sat completely na**d on a small patch of cement, chained to the wall. His wrists and ankles were shackled, chains hanging between. Another chain, locked onto the back of his left ankle, secured him to a thick black iron loop bolted into the wall behind him. The arrangement restricted his movements by about ten feet in any direction. If she’d doubted the story Rumy had told her about Lucian and his brothers, and their abusive father, she didn’t anymore; only a monster would treat his son like this.

She knew Lucian from the photographs Rumy had shown her as well as by the new vibrations of the chain at her neck. The chain recognized him, allowing her to siphon his power, clear evidence that the chains held a magical quality. Even her vision seemed to have improved in the dim, torch-lit cave.

But hearing about the man and seeing him in person were two very different things. She hadn’t understood the size of him before. He was physically imposing and on some level, even beautiful. He had to be at least six-five. He had short dark hair that set off strong cheekbones, giving his face a sculpted appearance. His lips were full and sensual, his jawline angled, and his nose straight but with a slight curve at the bridge. His shoulders were broad and heavy, his arms ripped, his hands large and fleshy.

His thick, straight brows, however, were drawn together in a tight line as he rocked his head slowly back and forth, his lips moving over words she couldn’t quite make out.

Rumy had told her Lucian would probably be suffering from a kind of madness that vampires experienced when their blood-needs weren’t met on a regular basis. With his eyes closed and muttering unintelligible things, he seemed to be in exactly that state. At Rumy’s suggestion, she’d brought a vial of blood with her that would help clear Lucian’s head so that he could focus better.

At the same time, Lucian looked like any other male in her world. Her gaze dropped to his muscled thighs and as if on cue, he lowered his knees to stretch out his legs. Very male.

She looked away. It seemed invasive to be staring at him.

She fingered the single blood-chain at her neck, and realized she really could sense what he was feeling, the depths of his despair, his rage, and even his madness.

The same chain would create the powerful bond once Lucian wore the matching set. She still couldn’t believe she was about to bind herself to a vampire, but through a process she couldn’t begin to understand, the chains would make it possible for her to form a tracking pair with Lucian. If she wanted to find Zoey, this was the only way. And right now, she’d do whatever the hell Lucian wanted her to do, if it meant locating and rescuing her best friend.

She called to him. “Lucian, can you hear me? Rumy sent me. I’ve come to take you out of here. Lucian?”

* * *

Lucian struggled to make sense of what he’d just heard. A woman had called to him, or maybe he’d just imagined it, another illusion. The blood-madness was killing him.

“I’m here to your left. Can you see me? Try to focus if you can.”

There it was again, the same voice, a melodious sound, very feminine.

He shifted his head in the direction he thought the words had come from, struggling to see her. His vision came and went because of his debilitated state, but suddenly she was there, near the far wall. A woman, human by his reckoning, standing just beyond the torchlight. He had no idea who she was.

His captor and father, Daniel Briggs, had kept him in a state of intense blood-starvation so that he suffered from recurring episodes of dementia and distorted vision.

He blinked several times, working hard to hold the image. The woman appeared to be cloaked behind an intricate disguise, something only a vampire could create. Yet how had a mere human accomplished a design like that?