Chapter 31: A Second Time

Bjorn was strapped over a table in his cell when the vampire queen wandered into his prison a second time. This time, she was with a vampire lord—the silver lacing his blood was unmistakable. As instantly as the last time, Bjorn felt his heart start to pound out of control.

Take me, he tried to say. He would have called it a hundred times over, but the slavers had forced a circular gag into his mouth, leaving his words mumbled and slurry.

Nonetheless, it got her attention. “Why’s he tied over the table like that?” she asked.

The lord that was with her turned, then jerked in horror. “Oh my fuck. That’s a barghest.”

“I want him,” the vampire queen said, and Bjorn melted with relief.

“Oh fuck no,” the lord said, his words shattering Bjorn’s relief like knives twisting in his heart. The bastard grabbed her and steered her back toward the twins. “No fucking way. Those things are…” He shuddered, obviously having had experience with them. “He’d kill you, dear.” To the slavers, he said, “We’ll take the twins.”

No! Bjorn started thrashing against the table, straining against the chains that held him down.

“Which one of the twins?” one of the slavers said smugly.

“Both of the twins,” the lord said. “You argue with me, you asshole, and I’ll take all three of them and the money back, for the trouble you’ve caused my friend, here. I heard what she spent on that yatagarasu. You’ve got another thing coming if you think that’s going to happen again.”

But Bjorn wasn’t listening. The bolts securing the table to the floor started to jerk out of the concrete, and his antics had drawn the attention of everyone in the room.

One of the slavers laughed. “Seems our little barghest has a hardon for the pretty queen.”

The queen, bless her, blinked at him and said, “He’s really strong.”

“Tell ya what,” one of the slavers said. “Take all three. Get him off our hands. We’ll be killing him in a few days, anyway.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” the lord snapped. “We’ll take the twins. That’s it.”

Bjorn yanked the table the rest of the way out of the floor and used the leverage of his feet on the concrete to hurl himself and table towards the bars. The closest table legs caught the floor and toppled, throwing him onto his side against the bars. Still chained to the device, Bjorn smashed into the cagefront and bent it outward with his back, almost touching the vampire lord’s shins.

“Yeah, we’re getting out of here,” the lord said, taking a quick step backwards. “Stardust, we’re going. Now.”

“He’s asking me to take him,” the girl insisted, as the vampire steered her from the room.

“Yeah, about that,” the lord said, “that’s kind of like a rabid, starving two thousand pound tiger asking you to take him home.”

“I want him!”

Realizing that she was getting away for the second time, Bjorn let out a scream of rage and bit down on the metal hoop in his mouth, crushing it. Spitting out blood and pieces of metal, he shouted, “Come back! Please come back!”

“As if that wasn’t a perfect demonstration of why you don’t want him,” Bjorn heard the vampire lord say, as they disappeared up the hall. “Someday, sweetie, you’ll figure things out, but until then, just take it from me. Barghests are…”

And then she was gone again. Wrested from him by a vampire lord. First a yatagarasu, then a vampire lord. Panting, spitting blood, Bjorn added them both to his list of people to kill, once he was free.

Getting away. She’s getting away.

Screaming his rage, Bjorn threw all of his weight at the chains holding him to the metal table. The table bowed inward, then the chains around his neck snapped. Howling, now, Bjorn strained backwards, making the table creak in complaint. More chains snapped against his spine. In the hall, the slavers were yelling to go get the taser.

Bjorn thrashed himself free of the table, so enraged, now, that he was seeing nothing but a red haze. He kicked the table into the wall, then, grunting, he started straining at his arms. He felt the padlocks snap just below his armpits, first, then in succession, down his elbows to the ones at his wrists. He pulled his arms around in front of him, then started ramming his silver-encased fists into the concrete floor, trying to get the fused metal balls off of his hands. The silver hurt. Like liquid fire, seeping into his skin, sizzling, burning. He felt his fists and arms start to bleed inside the metal sleeves.

Getting away. She was getting away again. He wouldn’t survive watching her walk out again. He had to catch her before she disappeared. Bjorn got up and started slamming the metal cage into oblivion. Just as he was mangling a hole big enough to step through, the silver bulb surrounding his fist got caught between two of the bars, and Bjorn had to pause to wrench himself free.

A moment later, one of the slavers came running down the hall, a gun in hand. Bjorn bared his teeth and ripped out the last of the cage holding him in place, rushing the little asshole, expecting to take a bullet. He could take a bullet, even if it was silver, if that meant he’d catch up with the little queen.

The gun fired, but it wasn’t a bullet. Something hit him in the chest. The jolt of electricity that followed made his legs go out from underneath him. He grunted and went to his knees as the pulse went on and on, locking his muscles around him. No! his mind screamed, as nothing would cooperate for him. From up the tunnel, he heard a vehicle start, heard the screech of tires.

Then they shot him again. A drug, this time.

No, Bjorn’s mind whimpered, as everything started to fade around him. He felt himself slumping forward and struggled to stay on his hands and knees. No, Odin please… Don’t let this happen.

They shot him again. Whether it was the drug or the taser, Bjorn wasn’t sure because he immediately slipped into the Void.