Revved up now, her heart slamming inside her ribs, she wrapped her legs around his waist and slammed her hips against him in wild, manic thrusts, her cries for release getting louder by the moment. The males in the front seat heard her now just as Gray could hear their thoughts.

Lucky bastard.

Wish I could tap that.

Grinning, Gray turned his attention back to the woman, to his own rising climax, but as he heard her fall into orgasm just as her body stiffened beneath his, the images he'd tried so hard to shove into the trash of his mind began to show up. He tried pushing them away, but the stubborn bastards wouldn't budge.

The fire, the fucking fire.

The hospital.

And her.

Her!

Dillon.

Fuck, he didn't want her! Didn't want her anywhere near his mind right now. Why did she always come at him when he was getting so close to coming himself? And why was she wrapped up in his memories of the past?

He pounded into the woman, his thrusts bringing vision after vision to the backs of his eyelids. Dillon in his house, Dillon running into the fire.

Fuck.

He slammed into the woman harder, deeper, working her good, sending her into another earth shaking climax as come surge into his balls, ready to shoot home.

The female below him screamed, writhed and begged for his climax both aloud and deep inside her mind. Fully aware of the stupidity of the move, Gray's fangs pierced the flesh of her neck. Fuck it, he was hungry-manically hungry and he would be fed.

But he never tasted blood.

Never reached her vein.

Never captured release.

Before the next breath left his body, a net, invisible and impenetrable, was thrown around him and he was yanked from the body of the writhing human female.

Chapter Two

The Order.

It was the first thought in Gray's mind as his feet hit dirt and he became mobile once again. The Order had taken him, ripped him from the woman's arms and deposited here.

But where exactly was here?

He glanced around himself, taking in the dirt floor, the stone boulders jutting out behind him and the bars containing him in the front. What the hell was this? And why was this?

He heard voices, deep inside his head. That's where they filtered into, where he could now contain and compartmentalize them. As he went through each one trying to figure out the truth of where he'd landed, his gaze moved through the bars and extended out to the massive oval beyond. It was something akin to a football stadium, but below ground, dark and lit with thousands of candles. He moved toward it, stopping only when he hit metal, and as he listened to the voices around him, he took in the landscape, dotted with stone tables. In the dim candlelight, Gray could make out the writhing bodies of Impure males and females laid out on the stone slabs, their arms and ankles bound, their bodies unclothed and shaking. His mind captured their cries for release, for mercy.

What the fuck was happening here?

More cages, more cells like the one he found himself in circumvented the oval space. One after the other, all facing the center-all able to watch the display. It was like a very large rattrap, Gray mused, and his fellow rats stood like him at the bars of their cages and watched the spectacle before them. Their faces pale, their minds filled with terror and sadness and a bleak hope for escape, while their bodies held rigid, unclothed and cold.

For the first time, Gray realized that he too was naked. The air felt cool and damp against his skin, as though he existed inside a spring-fed brook. But this place in which he had been dropped felt as far from the gentle and sweet smelling forest floor as one could get.

Another one.

Another Impure fool.

The male voice inside Gray's head came from such a distance he could barely make it out, but by the last few words it shot forward and bloomed.

He wasn't alone in his cage.

Gray turned just in time to see a tall blond male walk out of the shadows of the rocks toward him. Gray narrowed his eyes and glanced past the male. How many others were back there? he wondered. And how far did their hiding place stretch? With his eyes narrowed, he glimpsed two others huddled within a split in the rock. An older male and a young female, both nude, both with strangely quiet minds.

"What is this?" Gray asked the male coming toward him, his tone low and fierce. He didn't know if these Impures were friendly or feral. "Where are we?"

"You're kidding, right?" the male said bitterly, his own nude frame gaunt, though his height rivaled Gray's.

Gray held out his arms. "Do I look like I'm kidding? Why are we being held here? Is this something else having to do with Ethan Dare or his followers?"

The male narrowed his eyes. "This is the Paleo."

The word meant nothing to Gray and he continued to press the male for answers. "Never heard of it."

The male sniffed. "Not possible. Anyone who grew up in the credenti knows of the Paleo."

"Yes, Impure," the older male called out from behind the young one, moving his face into the light. It was a long, tired face, and felt somehow familiar. "What game do you play?" he asked brusquely.

"This is no game to me," Gray assured them harshly. "I was brought here without a word, without a chance to fight. I am in the dark about why the Order wants me here and all I'm asking for are answers." He was getting nothing from those around him-nothing but fear and pain and cries for release. It was so much like the time spent in Dare's presence, he could barely stomach it.

"The Order wants you here for the same reason they want all of us here," the young male answered.



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