“It took a bit of a fight and one of our men took a nasty bite but we managed to search his pockets and confiscate his bag.” The man walked as he talked, leading them through to a side room opposite the cell.

“What did you find?” Markus asked. The door was closed behind them and they stood around a small table with a chair on each side, on the table sat a miniature backpack, some spare change and a chain necklace.

“Money, bag and necklace - we haven’t looked in the bag yet…” Markus’ father pulled the tiny bag towards him and unzipped it before pouring out the contents onto the table. A notebook, pen and map were all that was inside. The map was familiar, it documented the territory of Scarlett Moon in detail far greater than would be available on google maps or any online search. Markus picked up the notebook and a piece of shiny card fell out, he caught it before it hit the table but froze when his eyes focused and he realised what he was holding. A polaroid. A polaroid of Sam, taken from a distance but close enough that his side profile was easily distinguishable.

“This is-” His breath caught in his throat, he almost called Sam his mate in front of his father. “This… is the omega.” His father snatched the photo from his hand.

“Are you sure?” He held it up to the light, squinting. Markus’ wolf bristled, he could find Sam in a line-up with only a freckle on show. He knew every inch of his mate.

“Positive.” He grunted.

“Open the notebook.” His father commanded. He flipped open the first page but it was blank, he flipped through until he got three-quarters of the way in and found a list of scrawled notes:

Sam (Samuel?) Hall - Markus Murphy - Scarlett Moon

4feet ?? inches (Closer look needed)

Academy school / Kitchen - see blueprints

Vampire hanging around - Friend? Lover? POSSIBLE MATCH WITH GODFRY

13669031

“For fucks sake.” Markus whispered, Charles was right. That stupid fucking vampire had known! ‘I have a feeling…’ my arse, he thought, he was involved somehow. He turned the pad around to show his father, who huffed as he read through it.

“Who would be interested in an omega?” He scoffed, giving the guard a jovial look of ‘what is the world coming to?’ which the young man chuckled in response to. His father’s eyes flicked lazily over the lines a second time, but this time he frowned. “Your name is on here next to his…” He yanked the book out of Markus’ hand and held it up to his face with a hand on his hip. “And who the fuck is Godfry?”

“I don’t know, dad.”

“Well, we’re going to find out.” He grumbled, “Markus, get to bed and rest up. I want you back here bright and early tomorrow morning - I think it’s time I taught you the art of interrogation.”

~

Markus could tell his father was becoming fatigued, his lightly wrinkled forehead was just a little too shiny. As much as the alpha didn’t want to admit it, he couldn’t keep this up forever, and the vampire didn’t seem to actually be taking any damage. He cried out, grunted and groaned, but not a single mark appeared on his skin and the only real words they had beaten out of him were curse words and vague threats. Markus didn’t believe his pained expressions and moans for a second, he was young but he hadn’t been born yesterday - did he really think they were stupid enough to believe his crappy acting?

“Who do you work for?” His father growled, slamming his fist into the man’s face again. If Markus hadn’t been taught better he would have told his dad to give up, they had been at it for hours, since the literal break of dawn. His father had beaten and kicked him continuously, mercilessly, and not a drop of blood had broken out from the man’s skin.

“Ughhh.” The vampire shook his head and looked away. “It’s not that simple to say…” Markus blinked. Were they getting somewhere? He said a silent prayer in his head to the Goddess to thank her for giving him the strength not to question his father.

“I have plenty of time.” His father stepped back, folding his tree trunk arms over his chest and watching the vampire carefully.

“We… I… am part of a coven that is one of… a group of covens under the orders of… a council, of sorts.”

“I’ve never heard of covens working together,” Said Markus, it was the first time he had spoken since entering the interrogation room. “isn’t ‘stay out of my yard’ the vampire motto?” The man remained silent at first until Markus’ father kicked him between the legs.

“Usually,” The man gasped out. “but the council gave our leaders an offer they couldn’t refuse.” His speech was muffled by his gritted teeth.

“Are we talking money or power?” His father growled. The vampire snorted and rolled his eyes and the room fell into silence. “What’s wrong? Your super-hearing only work long distance? Answer me!” He yanked the man forward by his dirty shirt and cracked his fist across his temple. The man gritted his teeth against any sounds that tried to escape and his father hit him again, and again.

“Both!” The man shouted. “And… slaves, blood slaves.” Markus’ father’s face hardened.

“Blood slaves?” Markus blurted, he had never heard the term before.

“I will say no more!” The man roared, suddenly enraged. He threw himself forward, his canines bared. Markus lunged forward but immediately realised he had panicked too quickly when his father caught him by the throat and slammed him to the wall, putting his foot up on his chest to pin him in place. Vampires were faster but werewolves were stronger, and in this tiny cube of a room there was no where to run.

“Either you tell me more, or I rip your throat out.”

“You’re going to kill me eventually anyway!” The man’s eyes were crazy, wide and darting to and fro. The tension in the room had escalated so quickly, Markus wasn’t sure how to assist but felt stupid standing back and watching the chaos. The man was screaming and thrashing now but unable to wriggle his way out from under Markus’ father’s foot.

“Last chance.”

“I will fucking kill you!” The man yelled. His father nodded to himself, as though he had been expecting this, and ripped his hand back, taking the man’s neck and head with it. Markus managed to hold back his retch but still winced a little, he was lucky his pack hadn’t been in many conflicts and he hadn’t seen a massive amount of bloodshed, but he doubted that would help him feel less sickened by watching a head popped clean off like a bottle cap from a beer.

He didn’t know if it was better or worse that there was no blood.

~

It had been a while since Sam had had more than ten minutes alone aside from sleeping, with the rogue vampire sending the pack into a frenzy all week it felt like people were constantly buzzing around, no one could sit still. Markus had been the worst, hanging around constantly and making Charles feel uncomfortable. His friend would never say it but Sam could tell. For some reason, Markus had been missing all morning, Sam had heard rumours about a vampire being caught on the grounds but he didn’t believe it - vampires at top speed could sometimes surpass the perception of the human eye, a pack of werewolves couldn’t match that.

“I don’t mean to intrude on your five minutes of silence,” Charles called in, hanging from the doorway, “but I thought I would grab the opportunity to see you while your magnanimous leader was busy committing a war crime.” Sam blinked, putting down the potato he had been peeling.

“He’s doing what?” He asked softly.

“Beating up a vampire they found prowling the grounds,” He pushed away from the door frame, looking if not tired then definitely exasperated. “not one of ours,” He added. “not that they bothered to ask before hauling him off.” He shook his head and strode to the island, resting his weight on his elbows there.

“I’m not sure what to say about that…” Sam mumbled. “I didn’t think vampires could be hurt… Physically.”

“That’s the thing, we feel pain, our bodies just don’t break easily so it takes a lot of effort to kill us.”

“So, if someone stabs you,” Sam waved the peeler in his direction theatrically. “you’d feel the pain of something hitting you even if your skin doesn’t break?”

“Exactly, everything is blunt pain.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I am glad they caught him - I didn’t like the way you said he was taking photos of you,” Sam felt his cheeks heat a little at the thought. “but I also favour a more diplomatic approach…” He sighed, “Not that I saw them, it might not even be the same vampire, this could be a multiple-man operation…” he pursed his lips for a moment, pulling one of the first truly sour expressions Sam had see grace his face. It quickly vanished. “My apologies, this isn’t what I came down here for.” He leant forward with a slightly mischievous grin, Sam leant over the other side, bringing their faces close. “I wanted to give you something I picked up the other day.” From behind his back he presented a small package wrapped in white and blue paper, Sam could tell without touching that it was a book. “Just something to maybe give you some relief from the chaos surrounding Scarlett Moon at the moment.” He added with a small smile.

Sam took the package carefully, “Th-thank you so much,” his tripped over his words, feeling flustered and nervous about accepting the gift. “this is really too kind, I-”

“Will read it and love it and keep it safe forever? Perfect, just as I had hoped.” He flicked Sam’s forehead gently and sat back on a stool. Sam clutched the book to his chest.

“Yes, but-”

“But you have lots to do and would like to relish your peace while you can get it, understood - I shall leave you to it.” He winked and stood again.

“Ri-right, thank you again.”

“No problem, Sammy.” He vanished quicker than he had appeared, which Sam was almost glad for as his cheeks had blossomed with even more heat at being called ‘Sammy’ by someone who wasn’t Cassie. Was it strange to say that something about it felt… intimate? He didn’t normally get called by anything other than omega or perhaps a rude slur.

He decided to open his present before anyone could interrupt him, especially Markus. Sam didn’t want to think about what he was supposedly doing behind closed doors right then, he liked to think he didn’t have that much cruelty within him. Sam peeled the tape off carefully and slid the book out of the paper without ripping it.

It was a copy of ‘Sepulchre’ by Kate Mosse, a meaty volume with a red cover. He opened the first page and found a note scrawled inside in black pen:

‘A book is a gift you can open again and again - Garrison Keillor. I hope you like the gift, it’s one of my favourites. I can’t wait to relive it when you’ve finished and we can discuss it over tea. Your friend, Charles’

Sam smiled at the book, then at the open door where Charles had left and then back at the book again. He would definitely be putting his peace and quiet to good use.