Syndelle's Possession
Chapter Twenty
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Pain ripped through Rafe's head. He couldn't move and for a second he wasn't too worried about it. Then terror tried to force its way in, coming with the memory of Frankie in the alley.
Rafe forced himself to lie still, to keep his eyes closed, to reach for Syndelle and Brann before panic set in. His heart jerked, a wild beat in his ears, when his mind struck a barrier. A chilly sweat covered his body, a shiver rushed all the way to his soul, opening the doorway and allowing fear to wash over him.
Memories of his childhood threatened to swamp him. The times he'd had to lie still, to pretend he didn't know what was happening around him. He squelched them, cursing Diego, promising himself that one day he would be successful in hunting the cult leader down and sending him to hell-sending his followers along with him.
Fuck. No time for that now.
Rafe cursed himself for not paying attention, for not even guessing that he was walking into a trap. He was smarter than that. Like Justin had been.
Rafe shoved images of Justin's corpse aside, forcing himself to concentrate on his own situation. He was naked. Ankles taped together. Arms, too, but behind his back. Concrete floor underneath him. Cold and rough against his cheek and chest. His cock limp for the first time since he'd seen Syndelle walk into Bangers.
Syndelle. His mind reached again, a fist squeezing around his heart, painful and ruthless. He ached for her. For them.
He felt the absence of the companion necklace then and his stomach tightened. Was that why he couldn't touch Brann's mind? Because he'd run scared for the last two years? Giving Brann blood-when forced-but never again taking it from Brann as he had that night at Drac's, never reinforcing the link.
I know you'll fight me, Rafael, even if you save yourself by becoming my companion. So I'll tell you now, deny my claim to you afterward if you must and for as long as you choose.
What a fucking waste of time that had been. If he could do it over again...
At least he could have learned some of what Brann knew, some of what Brann had offered to teach him.
He could think of any number of wards and chants that would have come in handy now. Rafe's thoughts stilled at the sound of footsteps. It took all his willpower not to open his eyes, not to fight and struggle when a tennis shoe landed against his ribs, hard enough to make him jerk and moan.
"Wake up!" a man's voice demanded in the second before another kick landed on Rafe's ribs, this one hard enough to send pain shooting through his side in a sharp, hard jolt.
He didn't give in to the demand even when his ribs and back got the full impact of an angry stomp. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, but remained hidden by his hair. Fuck. He hurt.
His attacker moved away and Rafe risked a glance. All he could see at first was blue jeans and tennis shoes on a pudgy figure. Dated shirt and a short haircut, a basement room that was windowless, unfinished.
The man disappeared through a doorway and there was the sound of water pounding hard against plastic. Rafe lifted his head, checking for ways out. Seeing only the door the man had gone through.
The water stopped. Rafael dropped his head but peeked through lowered lashes.
Acne-scarred face, fleshy, the pudge extended to the front. Soft and out of shape. Loser.
It radiated off the guy like stink off a carcass and Rafe's cock shriveled further as Augustino's words flashed through his mind. Four unsolved homicides, all with the same victim profile-male, blond with long hair, inverted pentacle tattoo somewhere on the body. There's a fifth victim. No tattoo on him, but the damage done to him was identical to the other four, so I think he was killed by the same perp. All five victims were roughed up, shock burns consistent with the use of a cattle prod, sodomized-ass and mouth-with genitals removed as a final insult.
Fucking vampire politics. Yvonne's master must have somehow found the crazy bastard who'd killed Justin and attacked Big Daddy's girls, must have recognized him-even if Yvonne didn't-or maybe her owner had enjoyed taunting her with the sight of the man who'd raped and tortured her-the man who'd left her so badly scarred that she'd traded her soul in order to get her looks back.
Shit. The attack on Syndelle made sense now. Yvonne's telescope was focused on Bangers. She'd probably seen Rafe leave with Syndelle-and if Fangs was also being watched, which seemed likely, then the vampire would have learned that Syndelle left with Brann. Could have easily guessed that Syndelle was more than an easy fuck.
Lilith. She had to be behind the attack. Someone on the council must have told her that Brann had been sent to Las Vegas to deal with a witch and the fledgling vampires the witch had managed to create. It would have taken little effort for Lilith to learn that even though the matter had been resolved, Brann was still here, as was he. Syndelle had seen Ishana in the casino, probably because Lilith had wanted to learn about the female Brann might make his companion, perhaps she'd even planned on having her companion kill Syndelle then-except they'd sensed the Angelini blood in Syndelle and known it would be foolish to openly attack her.
The thought of Brann growing more powerful through an Angelini bond would have filled Lilith with rage. She had lusted for Brann's power for centuries. But vampire marriages of the type Lilith wanted were rare, even among fledglings, and Brann's refusal even to couple with her had fueled her hate, channeling it into a thirst for revenge.
Rafe shivered as he saw the design of Lilith's elaborate, deadly trap-and realized that this was where she'd intended he would end up all along-his death untraceable to her.
Why did you send Rafe to Bangers? Syndelle had asked.
There have been a number of new slaves at Wyldfyres, faces I have seen in Rafe's memories of Bangers.
All women that he'd fucked.
She'd guessed that Brann would send Rafe. She'd known all along that Justin's killer would target him. But she hadn't counted on...
Rafe wasn't able to keep himself from screaming when cold water struck him, followed immediately by the press of a cattle prod on his ass.
The man standing over him laughed gleefully, lowering the cattle prod so that it was in front of Rafe's face as he bent down and pulled Rafael's hair out of the way. "Are we having fun, Tommy?" he said in a singsong voice that had every nerve ending on Rafe's body reacting.
"I'm not Tommy," Rafael said, already knowing it didn't matter whether he was or not.
The guy above him laughed and unzipped his pants, pulling his penis out. "Oh, that's right, I'm supposed to call you master," he said, his singsong voice and his crazy eyes making Rafe more frightened than the sight of him jerking off, masturbating with quick, impatient strokes, the cattle prod wavering in the air in front of Rafe's face until he couldn't stand it anymore and rolled away just as a stream of come hit the concrete where he'd been lying.
"No!" the guy screamed, striking out with his feet and then the cattle prod. "No! You're going to take it just like you made me take it! And then you're going to die, you cunt-whore!"
* * * * *
Syndelle gripped Brann's leg tightly, her fingers curled around his thigh as he shifted gears before covering her hand with his. "We are close. And he is alive."
"I know," she said, trying to draw comfort from the knowledge that the man who had Rafe liked to torture his victims before he killed them-though the thought of Rafael being hurt was a twisting agony in Syndelle's gut.
He can be healed, Brann said. But I cannot bring him back from death. Nor can you. His mind is strong, he has seen worse, survived worse. There was a fleeting image of a young Rafe dressed in a white robe with a strange blood-red symbol on it, an older man with a long beard who looked at Rafael with lust and commanded all those around him, his hand resting on a whip as he lectured his followers on pain and discipline and the cleansing of the soul-his eyes burning with an intensity that made Syndelle shy away. Diego. The name whispered in Syndelle's mind, borne by Rafe's blood memories, the emotion surrounding it feeding the wolf's need to savage any who would threaten its mate.
"A hunt for another day," Brann said, bringing Syndelle's hand to his mouth, the brush of his lips a gesture meant to calm as well as a promise that all would be well.
They turned into a neighborhood, a quiet place that spoke of peace and yet harbored one of dark violence. Brann slowed the Viper, crawling along until he found what they were searching for, the vampire companion bond leading him to the house that contained Rafael.
When Brann would have ordered Syndelle to stay in the car, she pushed the door open and said, "I am not so foolish as to go in first, but do not waste your breath on a command that won't be obeyed."
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Brann smiled, his heart warming with pride at the courage of his Angelini mate. The future lay ahead of them, a dangerous, twisting path that would have to be navigated carefully, but fate had smiled on him by giving him two fine companions to make the journey with.
* * * * *
Blood poured from Rafe's mouth and the breath jerked in and out of his body in painful blasts. He'd lost track of how many ribs he thought were broken. Too many. Too many, and the last kick to his head had made him black out long enough so that when he came to he found himself tied down, spread-eagle with his ass in the air like an offering-the sound of his attacker jerking off somewhere behind him competing with the race of his heart and his struggling lungs.
He screamed silently-for Brann, for Syndelle. Not believing that his life was going to end like this-not now, not when his heart had finally found a safe haven.
A pair of tennis shoes hit the floor next to Rafe's face, then a pair of jeans. He braced himself. His mind moving away from what was getting ready to happen to his body, just as it had when he'd first run from the cult, penniless, clueless, on his own and learning fast that the quickest way to earn enough money for food and a safe place to sleep was to sell himself. He concentrated on the duct tape holding his wrists to metal rings screwed into the floor. Rubbing back and forth, trying to weaken the tape so he could free his hands. If he could just free his hands...
* * * * *
Syndelle studied the symbols and wards painted in goat's blood on the doorjamb. They were primitive, knowable to humans and nonhumans alike, but effective for keeping things of a supernatural nature contained-for trapping Rafael's psychic cries inside along with anyone unwary enough to race in without caution. Do you wish to do the honors? Brann asked, his hand moving to touch her back, to brace her against the onslaught of Rafe's pain once the wards were down.
Her hands lifted in answer, making quick work of unraveling the trap, a small cry escaping when the way was clear and her mind touched Rafe's.
* * * * *
Relief surged through Rafe, along with an overwhelming love as Brann and Syndelle suddenly filled the bond. Tears escaped. Anytime now would be great, he managed to joke, feeling hot breath and clammy hands on his back.
A door crashed open in another part of the house. His attacker surged to his feet, scrambling for his clothing but finding himself slammed against the wall instead, Brann's hand locked to his throat, his eyes ripping into those of Rafe's attacker, his mind ruthlessly stripping the man of his thoughts.
Tears streamed down Syndelle's face as she used her fingers and teeth to free Rafael from the duct tape and help him sit. I'm okay. It's okay now, Rafe said, pressing his lips to hers, feeling her need to touch him, her reluctance to do so for fear of bringing him pain.
"He knows nothing," Brann hissed. The desire to kill rolling off him in angry waves.
"Leave him for Augustino to deal with," Syndelle said, her thoughts moving to Big Daddy. "Leave him for the humans."
Brann's fingers tightened on the man's throat for an instant before he yielded to Syndelle's request, released the man so that he slid to the floor in a whimpering heap, reduced to helplessness by Brann's command.
Cut that one a little close, Rafe joked as Brann moved to kneel next to him.
Brann's hands went to the buttons of his shirt, his fingernail extending into a talon. "Will you take what I offer, or do you intend to lurch around the house and play on Syndelle's sympathies?"
Rafe's laugh became a bloody cough. I'll take what you offer.
Brann opened a gash on his chest then moved closer, his arms embracing Rafael, Syndelle's hands stroking both of their backs, her face pressed to Brann's shoulder as his blood raced through Rafael, a fire burning away his injuries while he bathed in the warmth of safety and love.
Only when he pulled away did he realize that his senses were telling him it was still morning. Rafe's eyes went to Syndelle. Shock moved through him, understanding, joy and fear-a mixed, wild rush of emotion that had him pulling her to him, burying his face in her hair.
Anytime you want to share the big secret about Syndelle... Fuck. He'd never guessed that this was it. The enormity of trying to keep her safe just about overwhelmed him.
Brann's hand stroked along his spine, the touch sending a rush of blood to Rafe's cock, making him aware of his nakedness and distracting him from his worry about Syndelle. "Guess my clothes and the coin both got ripped off."
"Skye has your companion necklace," Syndelle said.
"Skye?"
"Frankie took it."
"And died for it?"
"Yes."
"Before or after Brann found out who he belonged to?"
"His last thought was of Andre," Brann growled.
Syndelle saw an image of the vampire in Rafe's mind, but his tone was disbelieving when he said, "Andre the ass-licker?"
"Yes." Brann stood, offering a hand to both Rafe and Syndelle.
"What about him?" Rafe asked, looking at the man who'd kicked and beaten him, who'd planned on raping and then killing him. "What did he know?"
Brann's gaze also went to their prisoner. "His mind is a tangle of fantasy and reality, confusion between the present and the past. He revenges himself on a girl named Brenda-his older sister-who played at being a witch, watching and joining in, while her boyfriend Tommy sodomized him. He saw you in Bangers weeks ago and chose you then, now he thinks it was justice that a man, Frankie, offered him a chance to fuck you after he'd been asking about you at Stingers. He barely noticed Frankie in the alley, didn't even stop to see whether he was dead or alive."
"Fuck, let's get out of here," Rafe said, turning away. "Let Augustino have him. Andre is a nobody, even as a vampire. He isn't behind this. You and I both know that. If Lilith hasn't already destroyed him, then he'll spill his guts when confronted with the council's favorite executioner." Rafe shot a look at Brann. "I assume you plan to hunt him when the sun sets."
"Of course." One hand clasped Syndelle's arm, the other Rafe's. "Let us summon Augustino and then return home. Long have I dreamed of making love in the sunshine, bathed in light instead of darkness."
Rafe forced himself to lie still, to keep his eyes closed, to reach for Syndelle and Brann before panic set in. His heart jerked, a wild beat in his ears, when his mind struck a barrier. A chilly sweat covered his body, a shiver rushed all the way to his soul, opening the doorway and allowing fear to wash over him.
Memories of his childhood threatened to swamp him. The times he'd had to lie still, to pretend he didn't know what was happening around him. He squelched them, cursing Diego, promising himself that one day he would be successful in hunting the cult leader down and sending him to hell-sending his followers along with him.
Fuck. No time for that now.
Rafe cursed himself for not paying attention, for not even guessing that he was walking into a trap. He was smarter than that. Like Justin had been.
Rafe shoved images of Justin's corpse aside, forcing himself to concentrate on his own situation. He was naked. Ankles taped together. Arms, too, but behind his back. Concrete floor underneath him. Cold and rough against his cheek and chest. His cock limp for the first time since he'd seen Syndelle walk into Bangers.
Syndelle. His mind reached again, a fist squeezing around his heart, painful and ruthless. He ached for her. For them.
He felt the absence of the companion necklace then and his stomach tightened. Was that why he couldn't touch Brann's mind? Because he'd run scared for the last two years? Giving Brann blood-when forced-but never again taking it from Brann as he had that night at Drac's, never reinforcing the link.
I know you'll fight me, Rafael, even if you save yourself by becoming my companion. So I'll tell you now, deny my claim to you afterward if you must and for as long as you choose.
What a fucking waste of time that had been. If he could do it over again...
At least he could have learned some of what Brann knew, some of what Brann had offered to teach him.
He could think of any number of wards and chants that would have come in handy now. Rafe's thoughts stilled at the sound of footsteps. It took all his willpower not to open his eyes, not to fight and struggle when a tennis shoe landed against his ribs, hard enough to make him jerk and moan.
"Wake up!" a man's voice demanded in the second before another kick landed on Rafe's ribs, this one hard enough to send pain shooting through his side in a sharp, hard jolt.
He didn't give in to the demand even when his ribs and back got the full impact of an angry stomp. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, but remained hidden by his hair. Fuck. He hurt.
His attacker moved away and Rafe risked a glance. All he could see at first was blue jeans and tennis shoes on a pudgy figure. Dated shirt and a short haircut, a basement room that was windowless, unfinished.
The man disappeared through a doorway and there was the sound of water pounding hard against plastic. Rafe lifted his head, checking for ways out. Seeing only the door the man had gone through.
The water stopped. Rafael dropped his head but peeked through lowered lashes.
Acne-scarred face, fleshy, the pudge extended to the front. Soft and out of shape. Loser.
It radiated off the guy like stink off a carcass and Rafe's cock shriveled further as Augustino's words flashed through his mind. Four unsolved homicides, all with the same victim profile-male, blond with long hair, inverted pentacle tattoo somewhere on the body. There's a fifth victim. No tattoo on him, but the damage done to him was identical to the other four, so I think he was killed by the same perp. All five victims were roughed up, shock burns consistent with the use of a cattle prod, sodomized-ass and mouth-with genitals removed as a final insult.
Fucking vampire politics. Yvonne's master must have somehow found the crazy bastard who'd killed Justin and attacked Big Daddy's girls, must have recognized him-even if Yvonne didn't-or maybe her owner had enjoyed taunting her with the sight of the man who'd raped and tortured her-the man who'd left her so badly scarred that she'd traded her soul in order to get her looks back.
Shit. The attack on Syndelle made sense now. Yvonne's telescope was focused on Bangers. She'd probably seen Rafe leave with Syndelle-and if Fangs was also being watched, which seemed likely, then the vampire would have learned that Syndelle left with Brann. Could have easily guessed that Syndelle was more than an easy fuck.
Lilith. She had to be behind the attack. Someone on the council must have told her that Brann had been sent to Las Vegas to deal with a witch and the fledgling vampires the witch had managed to create. It would have taken little effort for Lilith to learn that even though the matter had been resolved, Brann was still here, as was he. Syndelle had seen Ishana in the casino, probably because Lilith had wanted to learn about the female Brann might make his companion, perhaps she'd even planned on having her companion kill Syndelle then-except they'd sensed the Angelini blood in Syndelle and known it would be foolish to openly attack her.
The thought of Brann growing more powerful through an Angelini bond would have filled Lilith with rage. She had lusted for Brann's power for centuries. But vampire marriages of the type Lilith wanted were rare, even among fledglings, and Brann's refusal even to couple with her had fueled her hate, channeling it into a thirst for revenge.
Rafe shivered as he saw the design of Lilith's elaborate, deadly trap-and realized that this was where she'd intended he would end up all along-his death untraceable to her.
Why did you send Rafe to Bangers? Syndelle had asked.
There have been a number of new slaves at Wyldfyres, faces I have seen in Rafe's memories of Bangers.
All women that he'd fucked.
She'd guessed that Brann would send Rafe. She'd known all along that Justin's killer would target him. But she hadn't counted on...
Rafe wasn't able to keep himself from screaming when cold water struck him, followed immediately by the press of a cattle prod on his ass.
The man standing over him laughed gleefully, lowering the cattle prod so that it was in front of Rafe's face as he bent down and pulled Rafael's hair out of the way. "Are we having fun, Tommy?" he said in a singsong voice that had every nerve ending on Rafe's body reacting.
"I'm not Tommy," Rafael said, already knowing it didn't matter whether he was or not.
The guy above him laughed and unzipped his pants, pulling his penis out. "Oh, that's right, I'm supposed to call you master," he said, his singsong voice and his crazy eyes making Rafe more frightened than the sight of him jerking off, masturbating with quick, impatient strokes, the cattle prod wavering in the air in front of Rafe's face until he couldn't stand it anymore and rolled away just as a stream of come hit the concrete where he'd been lying.
"No!" the guy screamed, striking out with his feet and then the cattle prod. "No! You're going to take it just like you made me take it! And then you're going to die, you cunt-whore!"
* * * * *
Syndelle gripped Brann's leg tightly, her fingers curled around his thigh as he shifted gears before covering her hand with his. "We are close. And he is alive."
"I know," she said, trying to draw comfort from the knowledge that the man who had Rafe liked to torture his victims before he killed them-though the thought of Rafael being hurt was a twisting agony in Syndelle's gut.
He can be healed, Brann said. But I cannot bring him back from death. Nor can you. His mind is strong, he has seen worse, survived worse. There was a fleeting image of a young Rafe dressed in a white robe with a strange blood-red symbol on it, an older man with a long beard who looked at Rafael with lust and commanded all those around him, his hand resting on a whip as he lectured his followers on pain and discipline and the cleansing of the soul-his eyes burning with an intensity that made Syndelle shy away. Diego. The name whispered in Syndelle's mind, borne by Rafe's blood memories, the emotion surrounding it feeding the wolf's need to savage any who would threaten its mate.
"A hunt for another day," Brann said, bringing Syndelle's hand to his mouth, the brush of his lips a gesture meant to calm as well as a promise that all would be well.
They turned into a neighborhood, a quiet place that spoke of peace and yet harbored one of dark violence. Brann slowed the Viper, crawling along until he found what they were searching for, the vampire companion bond leading him to the house that contained Rafael.
When Brann would have ordered Syndelle to stay in the car, she pushed the door open and said, "I am not so foolish as to go in first, but do not waste your breath on a command that won't be obeyed."
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Brann smiled, his heart warming with pride at the courage of his Angelini mate. The future lay ahead of them, a dangerous, twisting path that would have to be navigated carefully, but fate had smiled on him by giving him two fine companions to make the journey with.
* * * * *
Blood poured from Rafe's mouth and the breath jerked in and out of his body in painful blasts. He'd lost track of how many ribs he thought were broken. Too many. Too many, and the last kick to his head had made him black out long enough so that when he came to he found himself tied down, spread-eagle with his ass in the air like an offering-the sound of his attacker jerking off somewhere behind him competing with the race of his heart and his struggling lungs.
He screamed silently-for Brann, for Syndelle. Not believing that his life was going to end like this-not now, not when his heart had finally found a safe haven.
A pair of tennis shoes hit the floor next to Rafe's face, then a pair of jeans. He braced himself. His mind moving away from what was getting ready to happen to his body, just as it had when he'd first run from the cult, penniless, clueless, on his own and learning fast that the quickest way to earn enough money for food and a safe place to sleep was to sell himself. He concentrated on the duct tape holding his wrists to metal rings screwed into the floor. Rubbing back and forth, trying to weaken the tape so he could free his hands. If he could just free his hands...
* * * * *
Syndelle studied the symbols and wards painted in goat's blood on the doorjamb. They were primitive, knowable to humans and nonhumans alike, but effective for keeping things of a supernatural nature contained-for trapping Rafael's psychic cries inside along with anyone unwary enough to race in without caution. Do you wish to do the honors? Brann asked, his hand moving to touch her back, to brace her against the onslaught of Rafe's pain once the wards were down.
Her hands lifted in answer, making quick work of unraveling the trap, a small cry escaping when the way was clear and her mind touched Rafe's.
* * * * *
Relief surged through Rafe, along with an overwhelming love as Brann and Syndelle suddenly filled the bond. Tears escaped. Anytime now would be great, he managed to joke, feeling hot breath and clammy hands on his back.
A door crashed open in another part of the house. His attacker surged to his feet, scrambling for his clothing but finding himself slammed against the wall instead, Brann's hand locked to his throat, his eyes ripping into those of Rafe's attacker, his mind ruthlessly stripping the man of his thoughts.
Tears streamed down Syndelle's face as she used her fingers and teeth to free Rafael from the duct tape and help him sit. I'm okay. It's okay now, Rafe said, pressing his lips to hers, feeling her need to touch him, her reluctance to do so for fear of bringing him pain.
"He knows nothing," Brann hissed. The desire to kill rolling off him in angry waves.
"Leave him for Augustino to deal with," Syndelle said, her thoughts moving to Big Daddy. "Leave him for the humans."
Brann's fingers tightened on the man's throat for an instant before he yielded to Syndelle's request, released the man so that he slid to the floor in a whimpering heap, reduced to helplessness by Brann's command.
Cut that one a little close, Rafe joked as Brann moved to kneel next to him.
Brann's hands went to the buttons of his shirt, his fingernail extending into a talon. "Will you take what I offer, or do you intend to lurch around the house and play on Syndelle's sympathies?"
Rafe's laugh became a bloody cough. I'll take what you offer.
Brann opened a gash on his chest then moved closer, his arms embracing Rafael, Syndelle's hands stroking both of their backs, her face pressed to Brann's shoulder as his blood raced through Rafael, a fire burning away his injuries while he bathed in the warmth of safety and love.
Only when he pulled away did he realize that his senses were telling him it was still morning. Rafe's eyes went to Syndelle. Shock moved through him, understanding, joy and fear-a mixed, wild rush of emotion that had him pulling her to him, burying his face in her hair.
Anytime you want to share the big secret about Syndelle... Fuck. He'd never guessed that this was it. The enormity of trying to keep her safe just about overwhelmed him.
Brann's hand stroked along his spine, the touch sending a rush of blood to Rafe's cock, making him aware of his nakedness and distracting him from his worry about Syndelle. "Guess my clothes and the coin both got ripped off."
"Skye has your companion necklace," Syndelle said.
"Skye?"
"Frankie took it."
"And died for it?"
"Yes."
"Before or after Brann found out who he belonged to?"
"His last thought was of Andre," Brann growled.
Syndelle saw an image of the vampire in Rafe's mind, but his tone was disbelieving when he said, "Andre the ass-licker?"
"Yes." Brann stood, offering a hand to both Rafe and Syndelle.
"What about him?" Rafe asked, looking at the man who'd kicked and beaten him, who'd planned on raping and then killing him. "What did he know?"
Brann's gaze also went to their prisoner. "His mind is a tangle of fantasy and reality, confusion between the present and the past. He revenges himself on a girl named Brenda-his older sister-who played at being a witch, watching and joining in, while her boyfriend Tommy sodomized him. He saw you in Bangers weeks ago and chose you then, now he thinks it was justice that a man, Frankie, offered him a chance to fuck you after he'd been asking about you at Stingers. He barely noticed Frankie in the alley, didn't even stop to see whether he was dead or alive."
"Fuck, let's get out of here," Rafe said, turning away. "Let Augustino have him. Andre is a nobody, even as a vampire. He isn't behind this. You and I both know that. If Lilith hasn't already destroyed him, then he'll spill his guts when confronted with the council's favorite executioner." Rafe shot a look at Brann. "I assume you plan to hunt him when the sun sets."
"Of course." One hand clasped Syndelle's arm, the other Rafe's. "Let us summon Augustino and then return home. Long have I dreamed of making love in the sunshine, bathed in light instead of darkness."