Captured

Page 17


“He has some interesting information for us.”


“Does he now?”


“Yes, I have called him and Caleb here.”


“This is not a celebration announcement for the banquet then?”


“The banquet is not a celebration.”


Braith kept his face impassive; he did not want his father to see that his curiosity was peeked. He turned at the sound of the door opening, listening to the swift footsteps that echoed down the hall. He recognized Caleb’s gate in the lead, but behind it was Jericho’s softer, lighter steps. Though he wanted to smile in greeting, he didn’t. Caleb moved past him, but Jericho stopped, his hand clasping hold of Braith’s arm. Braith accepted his outstretched hand, squeezing it tight within his own. When Jericho had left, his hand had been a boy’s, with no calluses, or scars. It was not the same now. It was larger, firmer, stronger, and marked by multiple scars and calluses.


“You have grown,” Braith said softly.


Braith could almost feel his smile, the light that Jericho radiated. He had always been the easiest going of them all, the least affected by their world, and it seemed as if he was still the same. But beneath it all, he could sense a tension and maturity in his brother that had not been there when he had left six years ago. They held each other’s hands for a long moment, Braith tried to size up the man before him, but there were a lot more layers to Jericho now. He had a feeling that there were a lot of things that Braith no longer knew about his little brother, and may never know.


“I finally reached maturity.”


Braith laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. There had always been a joke between them that Jericho would never grow up, that he would be seven hundred and still acting like a seventeen year old. Braith had always thought it would be true, but he realized now just how wrong they had both been. Whatever had happened to Jericho in the last six years, it had changed him deeply. Braith was surprisingly saddened by this realization. He had missed his brother’s easy camaraderie over the past years, he realized now that he would not be getting it back.


“I can tell.”


Jericho squeezed his hand again before releasing it. “Tell your brothers what you have told me,” their father commanded.


Jericho took a few steps away from Braith. “After a year of living in the woods, fighting amongst the rebels, hiding my true nature, and struggling to earn their trust I was finally able to break through part of their tight knit, tight lipped, group.”


“How?” Caleb asked.


“I saved the life of a child that happened to be a cousin of the group that leads the rebel faction. The child’s parents started to trust me, accepted me, but it was still another year before the father took me to meet his cousin. I was blindfolded for this journey, and it was in the middle of the woods, but I met the man who leads the rebels. His name is David, I don’t know his last name, most rebels have forsaken them, but I would recognize him on sight.”


“And you know where he lives?” Caleb inquired eagerly, the bloodlust evident in his voice.


“No, no one outside of family knows where David lives.”


“Then what good is any of this?” Caleb hissed. “A man named David leads these imbeciles. Six years and that’s all you came up with?”


“Enough!” their father snapped. “Let your brother continue.”


“As I was saying,” Jericho growled; his annoyance at being cut off and degraded was more than apparent. At one time Jericho would have laughed off Caleb’s impatience and attitude; he did not do so now. “I met David, and though I don’t know where he lives, I do know his family. They may keep their living quarters a secret, but they all work together, especially David and his oldest son. I only knew the eldest son in the beginning, but three years ago David’s younger son became more involved, as did his daughter. Though they tried to keep the girl out of most of the fighting, she was well trained at it, and is a very skilled hunter. She often went on the food gathering trips, and would aid in planning and executing raids.”


Braith felt a tight knot beginning to form in his stomach. Arianna had been hunting for food when she was captured, she had admitted as much. And Max, she had said that Max had been captured because of her, that he could have run but had instead sacrificed himself in the hope that he would be able to free her from captivity. There were only two reasons a man would do that either for love of the woman, or love of his leader. He had assumed that Max had wanted to save her because they were friends, that he did love her, and because he was good friends with her brother. He realized now that he may have been wrong, that Max may have come after her because he knew who she was, and who her father was. Because he realized what a threat it would be to their cause if one of the children of their leader was caught and held by the enemy.


What the hell kind of a mess had he gotten himself into with this?


“Ok, so the girl is a heathen and wishes to be a man.”


“Shut up Caleb,” Jericho growled. Braith could feel Caleb’s shock, and he supposed he would have felt the same if he wasn’t already completely stunned and terrified of what else Jericho might reveal. “The girl is also in our possession right now, or at least she was. There was a raid on an outer encampment a few weeks ago, blood slaves were taken. Who exactly was taken was only muttered and rumored about, but one child claimed that a girl had saved him, a girl that very much resembled David’s daughter. No one knew for sure, until last week.”


“And what happened last week?” Braith asked softly.


“David’s daughter did not return as scheduled, and neither did one of his higher ranked lieutenants. It was confirmed that the girl had been taken. It is not confirmed if she is alive as a blood slave, or not. That’s why I risked blowing my cover to come back here now.”


“What good is any of this information?” Caleb inquired, but the anger was gone from his voice.


“Human’s tend to be very attached to their children. If David’s daughter is alive, and being kept as a blood slave, than we can use her against him. He won’t like the thought of his child being used in such a way, he will be reckless. If she is dead, then we will have to dig up a blood slave that looks like her, and try to use that girl against him. Either way, we have strong leverage over the rebels right now,” Jericho said softly.


“I want all of the blood slaves from the past few weeks brought forth tonight, Jericho will inspect them all,” their father said softly.


Braith’s hands were tight around the head of his cane. Sensing his agitation, Keegan had risen and begun to pace anxiously. “Perhaps it is your blood slave Braith,” Caleb said lightly.


“Perhaps,” he managed to agree.


“You have taken a blood slave?” Jericho inquired shock evident in his voice.


“Yes, Braith has finally sunken to the levels of depravity that the rest of us have enjoyed all these years. He did well for a blind man; she’s a pretty little thing, if you like redheads. Which, I do.”


Braith stiffened, close to ripping the head off of his cane as he waited for Jericho’s response. If David’s child was a redhead, they would all know shortly, and they would all be racing up to his apartment to get at Arianna. They would use her, and they would torture her, and they would kill her. He didn’t know how he was going to stop them from doing so, but he knew that he had to try.


Jericho gave a soft laugh. “No, fortunately for Braith’s newest addition, David’s daughter is not a redhead.”


Braith breathed a sigh of relief, but the tension did not ease in his chest. Something still felt off about all of this, something was not quite right. He wanted desperately to return to Arianna, to question her, but he had a feeling that no matter what had passed between them, she still would not tell him about her family. Especially if this David really was her father. And he also knew that he could not blame her for that, her family was probably far closer than his, humans tended to cling to their loved ones. Vampires did not.


But, if David was her father, than why would Jericho lie about her hair color? Maybe he did not consider her dark tresses red, but Braith doubted that. Maybe he had never actually seen the girl, but why would he lie about it? What did he have to gain by coming here and lying about this? Unless, Jericho had wanted to escape the woods and this was his excuse to return to the luxurious lifestyle he had left behind.


Neither of those things sounded right, but he couldn’t quite figure out this puzzle, not yet anyway. He just knew that he needed to get back to Arianna, and he had to keep her away from Jericho. She could not go to that banquet tonight. “Well, if she is not a redhead, then I will be leaving my blood slave behind tonight. I’d prefer to mingle amongst the crowd, alone.”


“Already tired of your treat?” Caleb taunted. “Funny, but it didn’t seem that way when I stumbled upon you earlier.”


“A change is always good,” Braith replied dully.


“So be it,” their father replied. “I still want Jericho to see the girl, just in case.”


“Of course,” Braith murmured in consent, trying hard to remain calm. “Whenever you wish to stop by Jericho. I will join the rest of you later.”


Braith strode swiftly from the room, Keegan following at his side as he tried not to race back to Arianna.


Chapter 11


Aria stood silently as Maggie slipped the beautiful dress over her head and began to tighten the strings that ran up the back of it. Aria stared down at the shimmering green material, stunned breathless by the striking color as it flowed gracefully to the floor. There were only two things she didn’t like about the dress; it’s low cut revealed far too much of her cleavage than she liked, and the strings that were even now cutting off her breath as they pulled tight about her ribs. Ribs still tender from her beating.


“Is it too tight?” Maggie asked softly.


“Just a little,” she admitted.


“I can loosen it, but it has to be tight so that it will stay up. This is the dress that the prince chose, but maybe you could be allowed to wear another if he knew that it was painful for you.”


Aria swallowed heavily, closing her eyes as she shook her head. She had to stay with this dress; no one could think that Braith was taking any kind of sympathy with her. If this was the dress he had chosen, than she would wear it. There were probably already questions about them; she could not allow any more to be raised.


“No, it will be fine and the prince will not allow me to change it if this is the one he chose.”


“I’m sure he might, he probably wasn’t thinking when he picked it. Men do not understand strings and their tightness after all.”


“It will be fine,” Aria murmured. Maggie sighed in aggravation but returned to pulling the strings tight again. Aria closed her eyes, trying to keep her face impassive as Maggie tried to be as gentle as she could. “Do blood slaves often attend the banquets?” Aria asked, more to distract herself than out of any real sense of curiosity.


Maggie shrugged absently, but she looked slightly troubled. “Not normally, and not when it is such a big celebration.”


“What are they celebrating?” Aria inquired. She had not seen Braith again after he had sent her to his room, but Maggie had appeared shortly after. She had explained that Braith had sent her, and that Aria was to get dressed so that she could attend the party tonight.


“The youngest prince’s return.”


“Return, return from where?” Aria asked in surprise. She hadn’t even known that he was not here, Braith had never mentioned it.


“No one knows, but he has been gone for six years.”


“Odd,” Aria whispered, mulling over Maggie’s words.


“Yes, it’s been speculated and whispered about for years,” Maggie said eagerly. “Some say that he left to fight the war on the western front, and others say that he left for the love of a woman that his father did not approve of. Of course, no one wanted to believe that one.”


“Why not?” Aria asked softly.


Maggie was silent for a moment; her gaze darted swiftly around before she bent closer to Aria. “The young prince is very handsome. No one wanted to think of him with another woman. They all hoped that they would snag him.”


“Oh,” Aria said dully. “I see.” But she didn’t see, she didn’t see how anyone could be more handsome than Braith, and she also didn’t want to think about the women running around here trying to snag a prince for themselves. Especially when it could never be her.


Aria closed her eyes as her ribs began to scream in protest. She was so intent upon trying to ignore the pain that she did not hear the prince arrive until she heard his growled command. “Leave us.”

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