As if on cue, Maximus slithered from the crevasse and into the chamber. “And how is our prisoner, Emma?”
The woman stiffened, and Marcus noted the look of disgust and fear that crossed her face briefly before she composed herself. “He will be completely healed in less than an hour. His wounds are mending much slower than I would have thought. The Guard may find us before we learn the truth.” She picked up the containers and turned toward her bag, nearly running into Maximus.
He locked her in a crushing hug and breathed in deeply. “Do not worry, Emma. It will take them days to pick up our trail. I should be finished with him long before then and maybe, I will have time to turn my attention to you.”
The cold hatred in her voice permeated the space around them, “Take your hands off me this instant, or so help me, Maximus, you will die slowly and painfully.”
“Oh, come now, Emma. You need me now that Marin is dead, and I have waited centuries to taste you.”
“Release her!” Marcus’s voice was quiet and shook with anger, but it held a demanding threat that caused Maximus to snap his head up in outrage and Emmaline to stare in disbelief.
“It seems our guest is well enough to give orders.” He pushed Emmaline from his path and stepped in front of the human. “I think he needs a reminder of who is in charge here.” Maximus slammed his fist into Marcus’s stomach, and the man grunted and coughed. He punched him in the ribs, the jaw, in rapid succession, then grinned as he slammed his knuckles against the stab wound in his chest and into the joint of his dislocated shoulder.
Marcus did his best not to scream, but the last two strikes sent jolts of pain through his body that brought forth agonizing wails. He gasped for breath and scowled at the vampire grinning at him. He hated bringing Maximus’s attention to his helpless form, but he wasn’t about to let him harm a woman, not even one that wanted him dead. His greatest shame was what he had done to Elizabeth in his anger, and he would spend his life repenting for that sin in any way he could. If that meant he must endure this torture, then so be it.
Maximus walked behind Marcus and placed his hands on the man’s shoulders. Marcus groaned from the pain and fought to keep his breathing steady, as the vampire leaned in to whisper in his ear, “It is much harder to prepare for a strike you can’t see coming.” Maximus removed his hands and laughed at Marcus’s flinch as he ran his fingers lightly across his shoulder blades. “Especially, if pain is not the only sensation.” Marcus shivered and choked down the bile in his throat as Maximus traced the muscles in his back, sides, and around to his stomach.
Marcus’s eyes met Emmaline’s, and the look of horror and disgust she wore chilled him to the bone. Her eyes held pity in them for a split second, then she turned and quickly left the cavern, leaving him alone with the monster. A sharp blow to his back near his kidney and another in his side just below his arm made him grunt and gasp. Soft caresses, then more punches teased his confused muscles and the hour of torture felt more like a year.
Marcus was only aware that the hour had passed when Maximus grabbed him by the hair and snatched his head back to whisper in his ear, “Let us see how well you have healed, shall we? I’m growing quite bored with your teasing. If I don’t move on to something more stimulating, this may progress to activities that would distract me from information gathering.” He placed his hands on Marcus’s shoulders and swiped the full length of his arms, wiping the now dry green paste from his arms.
He flinched at the contact, but other than tenderness, there was no searing pain from his actions. He couldn’t bring himself to be grateful, especially as Maximus walked passed him to retrieve a torch from the wall, a bucket from beneath it, and an iron rod propped up just inside the entrance. The man crossed back to his position behind Marcus, and he fought the desire to look behind him as he heard shuffling and rattling. Heat blazed after several moments, and Marcus realized the man had started a fire practically right behind him. Sweat broke out across his back, shoulders, and neck, and it only took a few moments for the heat to tighten his exposed skin.
Maximus stepped behind him, then, placing his forehead on his captive’s shoulder and pulling Marcus tight against him. “Disfiguring such beauty is a sin, but I must cause you pain to get what I want. Luckily, I have some skill in art. I think I will make you my canvas and add to your magnificence.” He raised his head and placed his mouth to Marcus’s ear. “Be a good boy and try not to squirm too much.”
Marcus swallowed as the man released him and tried to prepare himself for the onslaught. Marcus shrieked as scorching metal made contact with skin. He gagged and choked at the smell of his own flesh burning and the feel of his skin withering away from the intense heat. Nothing could have prepared him for it, and Maximus repeated the act as often as the heated metal would let him. Once cooled beyond what was needed to continue, he returned it to the fire, leaving Marcus gasping and shaking with the agony.
“Would you like to tell me how you were cured, or do I need to continue my art project?”
Marcus took in a ragged breath, “I have no intention of telling you anything.” His weak, shaky voice sounded less than convincing, and it brought a chuckle from his captor.
“Good. I had no intention of stopping. You are mine now and must wear my mark.” His voice edged closer as he spoke, and searing, white-hot pain marked another round of burning flesh.
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