Coldbloods (Hotbloods #2)

“Thank you,” I said uncertainly, standing.

“Oh, don’t thank me,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m only following orders.” He cast a dark look at the iPhone before tucking it into a pocket. “For the most part.”



My room was pretty much as described: basic. It was somewhat cell-like, with a stone door, floor, and ceiling, stone walls, and a toilet and bed made out of—you guessed it—smooth gray stone.

“I will come to you tomorrow with my answer,” the lycan said, lingering at the door. “Until then, sleep well, human.”

It was only once he’d closed the door behind him that I realized I’d never found out his name.

The door was shut firmly, as expected, while the bed was just as uncomfortable as it looked. The sad scrap of a rag for a blanket seemed like a cruel joke. Nonetheless, I settled onto it, and, despite it being about as comfortable as a coffin, exhaustion claimed me, and my eyes dropped closed.





Chapter Three





I woke up to a scraping sound, but before I could open my eyes, something covered them. Striking out my arms only resulted in them being grabbed. My cries were muffled by a cloth gag. As I thrashed, I was lifted into what felt like a cloth bag and dropped in, and I hit the floor with a smack. My body smarted with pain as the cloth bag was dragged across the floor. Tears came to my eyes. After all I’d been through, now I had to be kidnapped again and taken to who-knew-where?

Worse still, whoever had taken me, judging by how they’d thrown me to the floor, didn’t much care if I was hurt.

I was carried out of my room and down steps—to where, I had no idea—and then I was put down, shoved onto what felt like a wooden chair. My blindfold was ripped off, and when I saw who I was facing, my blood ran cold.

“So, human, let’s try this again,” said the same harsh, masked lycan I had originally woken up to, and whom Sylvan had driven out—Farl. “Sylvan can’t save you this time. He and some other fools left to look into your lying claims. No, there will be no getting out of this. Tell me what you and your coldblood master have done and I’ll consider sparing you.”

I gaped at him, as panic rushed through my body. There was a deadly edge to Farl’s words, and I didn’t doubt for a second that he’d hurt me if it came to it. But still, what did he want from me? Did he know about the Fed agent Navan had killed?

“N-Nothing,” I stammered, “I was telling the truth.”

There was a long, measured silence. Farl stepped back and began pacing in a circle around the table at which I was seated. His impassive eyes darted from his companions, who also wore black clothes, to the room’s only door. We appeared to be in the basement, as the floor here was dirt. The walls were stone, although lined with something much more ominous—long, curved pikes, metallic-looking spears, a spike-covered bed leaned vertically against the wall…

Farl sat down on a wooden chair, turning to me with a terrifying fanged smile.

“Let me tell you a story, human.” His mouth became a sneer. “I had a brother—once. Lyon. He was a good lycan, a loyal agent, a compassionate brother. He was just and brave. He performed his job flawlessly. One day, he didn’t report to headquarters. He was last seen in Alaska. Days passed, weeks…” Farl’s coral eyes flicked to me. “I bet you already know how this story ends.”

I took a deep breath, praying that Farl couldn’t see the truth in my eyes, as I was already guessing how this story might end. A shiver of fear danced across my skin.

“They sent a few lycans over to investigate, and my brother’s body was found,” he continued in a low voice. “His bloodied corpse was discovered in the middle of the snowy tundra—frozen, a bullet in his brain, his mouth twisted open wide. He died yelling, you know.”

Now Farl’s coral eyes had gone lighter, filmed with tears. “They promised to investigate,” he continued, “But you know how it is. We aren’t exactly booming with agents here on Earth at the moment—we have to make do with what we have. That was why they assigned you and your coldblood master to that coldblood base investigation in the first place. We just don’t have the manpower for it. So, the investigation was juggled from one date to the next, until it was put off indefinitely. That was when I decided to go there myself, see what I could find.”

Farl smiled bitterly. I felt at once sorry and scared. There was a pitiable, yet dangerous, fire in his eyes.

“You know what I found?”

He slammed his fist down on the table, an inch from my hand, sending it flying up. Out of the corner of my eye I took note of my surroundings—we were encircled by the other masked lycans, all of whom were armed. There was no way out. Whatever Farl was going to do to me, there would be no escaping it.

But he wouldn’t actually… kill me—not when he wanted information out of me—right?

I took a deep breath. “No,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Farl’s eyebrows contorted in rage. He snatched up my hand and squeezed with his powerful fingers. Pain ratcheted through my arm.

“N-No—stop!” I cried.

He dropped my hand onto the table.

“I found a bunker. I kept an eye on it for a few weeks, and, what do you know, I saw its owner come back.”

Now Farl was leaning in uncomfortably close, his rank breath wafting into my face. My hand was still throbbing, and now my head had started to throb, too. My eyes darted about the room again, desperately seeking a way to escape, a way I might have missed before.

“I saw him,” he hissed. “And I saw you.”

Farl leapt up and grabbed the metallic spear off the wall. It glinted dully in the light. On the wall were other weapons, but they were too far away for me to grab one to defend myself. The other masked lycans would get me before that. It was too late now. Farl had returned and was pressing the sharp tip of the metallic spear into my lower arm.

“Deny it again, I dare you.”

The spear’s tip crackled with electricity, burning hot, horrible pain into me. Dammit—I couldn’t die here. Navan still needed me.