Silently Hunted

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Nathaniel had come back to his body as the pain compartment had stopped ‘buzzing’ in his mind. As he navigated back, away from the open doorway into Anya’s mind, he could sense the healing of burnt flesh and charred bone. From the warm sensation in his stomach, he was shocked to find that they had fed him blood. Which had in turn kick started the healing process. But in all probability they would only have fed him, so he healed enough for them to have a fresh canvas in which to work on.

Inching further into the front of his mind, he became aware of conversations floating around. Near him, and yet far enough away that his ears had to strain to pick up the words through the healing haze at the front of his mind. He heard talk of a meal, or was it a feast? Some words he couldn’t quite make out and then they definitely mentioned ‘the half-breed’, with only one half-breed on the known world, his sense of self flew into the fore ground. They were talking of Anya and he needed to know why the dungeon workers had any need to speak of her.

Opening eyelids that were heavier than he remembered. The pain seeping from the compartment he had locked it away in. Only the healing was teasing it out again, beyond his control. He could hear them coming closer as the angels walked towards the exit. It was not hard to see they were making their way to the exit he could see opposite him. Not that they were worried about any of the victims they left behind. Anyone unlucky enough to be caught up in the chains and cages down here, would not be getting out anytime soon, at least as far as they thought. They had never actually managed to catch and keep someone of his power before.

Feeding him had been an error they would not realise until it was too late. He could hear other around him. Vampires. Of that he had no doubt, as no human could survive long in an ‘immortals’ dungeon. When his flesh had knit back together in a suitable fashion, he would make short work of anything that tried to keep him down. There was no way that they would see him coming.

He knew Anya was trying to come up with a plan of her own. Had heard, as if from behind a heavy curtain, of the meal she was expected to attend. Knowing what he did of angels and the fact that even those in the dungeon were talking of it. He was starting to feel a terror for her. An emotion he had not felt since the very start of his lifetime. She had no idea what she was walking into, but was willing to do so, for any chance to find a way to him. He had no idea when she had started to look towards him for safety. But he was definitely not going to question this turn of events.

What he had to do now was not grow frustrated at the time his body was taking to heal. He knew there was a lot of damage, bone visible. That did not mean that he had to like the time his body was taking. The longer he took, the more danger Anya could be in.

A rattle, the sound of keys, had his head lifting. Noticing the angels had paused at the door to take stock of those visible to them. Smirking as their gazes landed on him. They started up their conversation once again. Louder this time, both looking in his direction from time to time, making sure he was listening to them. He knew what they would say was meant to stay with him after they left. That it could all be lies, and yet, he could not help but listen. Knowing it was more than possible it would also be true.

“I think we may have to create some room for our newest guest. What do you think? By the Shadow Hunter?” The last two words being said as if they were a description of something disgusting that had been found on the bottom of their boots. This angel he thought he would call Prick, he was only the lackey, lower in the hierarchy to the second. Now him, he would have to name him dead angel walking. There was no way he was leaving here before that angel had breathed his last. He had heard him laugh as a female vamp screamed in agony when he was first brought in. He could not see with what torture he used, but no one treated his vamps like that. And in his mind Anya was among that category now as well.

“Oh, yes. Wouldn’t that be nice, a little reunion. And then they can spend so long together, just hanging around,” a sharp laugh at this, “in as much pain as we can give them.” A small pause and in a very genuine tone, as if something had just being realised. “I think we need to pull out the extra special treatment for the hunter, and possibly out new guest as well. He didn’t seem to mind overly much as we burnt his foot off. We need to rethink out game I think.” Dead angel walking really did have a death wish it seemed.

“What are you thinking?” Prick’s giddiness really was grating. How could someone who spent their life torturing people be so happy? It was sickening. Mind you if he thought about it, he had enjoyed killing throughout his life. The most recent being the CEO, that had been an enjoyable kill. But he was a particularly ‘happy person’ this guy however, would seem to be better off working with small children, maybe as an entertainer of some kind. “We could pull out the old stuff, we haven’t used that in a while.” Nathaniel could actually imagine Prick jumping up and down and clapping his hands at this point.

“We could do. But the half breed may not be up to that standard yet. Though we could make it watch as we use it on the Hunter. That would be fun.” Both grinned at each other. Nathaniel knew that with the doorway now open between them, he could reassure her if she was ever in a position to see him being hurt in such a way. But that would not stop them from doing so. That was just another incentive to get moving. As soon as they actually got moving.

Ignoring the rest of the conversation he made a mental note of how far his healing had progressed. It was not as slow as he had first expected, that at least was something in his favour. With that note made, he headed back towards the doorway to Anya. He needed to make sure that she was still alone, he was not going to try what he was going to next if she was with company.

Anya stood in front of the antique wardrobe. The wood painted white with gold gilding, the style reminded her of France in the 1700’s, not that she saw anything but the underbelly of the place in those years. But it had the same feeling about it. The fluffy towel hitched around her, her hair twisted up with another. Looking over the clothes held within, she had not seen such splendour together in a long time. Her wardrobe in the dome near Moscow was rags compared to what was before her.

Riffling through, she saw the dresses were all backless, accommodating her wings easily. The shirts she found on a little shelf above the rail had slits similar to those she had made in Nathaniel’s T-shirt. Only these were made to be there, pearl buttons and embroidered designs made them a fashion statement rather than a necessity. Shaking herself out of the moment as she found that her fingers had been tracing the design of the one in her hand. Shoving it back in the shelf, it looked so out of place compared to the rest of the immaculate clothing, and it made her smile. A tiny rebellion.

One of the dresses had been separated, if it had not been, it would have still have stood out. It was stunning, that she had to admit. Though she was loathe to put it on. Knowing that doing so would mean she was cooperating with something that may possibly lead to death and humiliation. Though it may not be in that order. Feeling a tap in the back of her mind just as the towel slipped, she felt Nathaniel’s presence stronger than what had become natural for her in such a short space of time.

It almost felt as if he was knocking at her mind, asking for permission. Bemused she tried to find her way back to the door. Only to find a path had been created and she had no idea how. Traversing it, she made her way to the place he was waiting. This was an extremely bizarre feeling, but she had a feeling it was going to get weirder from here. And that was saying something compared to what she had been through already.