Anri was awake for the entire ride. He had thought, incorrectly, that he would grow numb to the fear. After a few seconds with the creature in the dark, the choke chain still constricting his airways, and the rather bumpy and unsettling motion of the car, he found that fear was something he could not ignore.

Oh, how he wished for the sweet release of unconsciousness. He was uber aware that the Spider-cat demon was in here with him. He couldn’t see it, but he could hear it and he could feel it. It wouldn’t stop touching him. The revulsion of its touch had him wishing he had eaten something for lunch, just so he could throw it up, not that vampires threw up, not normally. The demon was in constant contact with him, one of its little clawed baby hands on somewhere on his body no matter how he tried to shift away from it, not that there was much room for escape in the small trunk.

Eventually he had given up trying to get away. His fear of the demon didn’t go away, but he was getting slightly used to it. Or something. The thing just purred and touched him. At least, he hoped that was the sound it made when it was purring, that coins in can noise, or maybe it sounded more like a broken lawnmower.  

He remained painfully tense for the whole ride. It was impossible for him to know how much time passed, each minute felt like hours. It was cold, but he was sweating, soaking through his shirt. He could barely get enough air into his lungs, and they screamed in pain with each breath he took. Getting banged all around the trunk didn’t help much, either.

The sarcastic voice in his head was watching everything from a distance, somehow taking the whole thing in unfazed. The voice was quite certain that whoever was driving was a fucking horrible driver, unfit to hold down licensure. He should report them to the appropriate authorities at once. He laughed hysterically at his own absurdity until he couldn’t breathe again, which didn’t take long at all.

When he caught his breath and calmed down, he strained to listen for some type of clue as to where they were or what the plan was. At first he thought they were speaking too quietly for him to hear, but then he realized no one was talking. Occasionally Angelina would bark out some direction, “Turn left here!” or “Two more blocks then turn right!”, but they said nothing more. He could hear traffic around them, but the longer they drove, the less and less he heard other cars over the sound of the engine.

There had been a quiet hope that if he paid attention he could build a map in his head of where they were going. The impossibility of the task was evident within only minutes. Each and every twist and turn served only to disorient him further, and he grew more disappointed with himself with every minute.

On top of that, his terror kept him close to a panic attack., The memories of his time in Angelina’s basement, starving and half crazed, repeated in his head maddeningly, looping over and over again. One good thing about wearing the choker collar, it made him focus on his breathing, saving him from falling into hyperventilation.

Eventually the car came to a stop and the engine shut off. Anri was shivering violently, partially from the horror of the car ride and his concealed yet ever-present demonic passenger, partially from the cold as his sweat-soaked shirt clung to him. His coat had been forgotten back at the bar.

Cloak Guy, aka Jacob, opened the trunk. The light from the overcast sky made him flinch back, his dark-accustomed eyes stinging from the quick change in brightness. He shied back as far as he could into the trunk, but Jacob grabbed the leash and yanked hard. He had no choice but to be dragged from the car as the choker chain squeezed painfully around his throat. The Spider-cat hissed menacingly at Cloak Guy, the sound a staccato beat of threatening clicks,  as he reached in to grab Anri.

To Cloak Guy’s credit, he only retreated for a moment at the threatening hiss. Anri smiled, hoping the demon would tear into the timid man, despite his own fear of it. Angelina hissed  harshly, her tone high pitched with annoyance, but the words were stolen by the wind. Whatever she had said was not to the henchman, he realized a second later, but to the demon. Its scorpion tail whipped around the space angrily. A fuzzy cat tail, thankfully sans stinger, slapped Anri across the side of his face. Her henchman pulled the collar as the demon reluctantly slunk from the trunk and Anri scurried to follow it, lest he be left without the ability to breathe again.

“Well?” Angelina demanded as he fell to the concrete, the cold rocks cutting into his palm. It was intensely cold and windy outside and for a millisecond he wished he was back in the trunk. The wind seemed to cut through his soaked shirt, making him feel even more exposed and vulnerable.

It took a second for him to realize he had been wishing to go back in the trunk. What the fuck was wrong with him? He swallowed hard, shivering on his hands and knees like some kind of animal. Why was he always so defenseless, so useless? Maybe it would be better if he was gone. Pathetic.

“What are you waiting for? It’s cold out here. Bring him in!” Angelina snapped curtly.

“But…he’s not…we didn’t tie him up. What if he bites me?” her henchman whined.

“What if he bites me!” she mocked. “You’re wearing your guards, you big baby! Dark powers help me, I will sacrifice your fat ass alongside him just for principal if you don’t get him inside this god forsaken building in the next five seconds!” she threatened shrilly.

Anri’s refused to look at her, but he could imagine the angered look that must be on her porcelain face. He tried to scoot away from the henchman but he couldn’t make his limbs work right. They were still stiff and angry from the tense ride, and his head was fuzzy from lack of oxygen. Everything in his head felt thick and gelatinous.

He really was pathetic. Why didn’t he think of a fucking plan? He wasn’t tied up, but he didn’t even think about it until the henchman mentioned it. He should be fighting back. Instead of planning, preparing an attack, he spent the whole ride in one long, drawn out panic attack. He was so fucking stupid. His fear controlled him and now he was going to pay for it. Just like with Seth.

Seth. He could still feel his connection with Seth, the one he wanted to deny all day today. They were bloodbound, and even though he wasn’t fully sure what that meant, it was undeniable. He could feel the bond between them, even now. He could feel the connection with Seth, a pulse in his chest, a gentle touch near his heart. He felt for it now. It was there and as he touched it with his mind, it centered him, its warmth a physical weight inside of him.

A second ago he had been ready to give in to Angelina, ready to let her do whatever she wanted because he was so pathetic. But…what would happen to Seth if he died? It was a sobering thought. He couldn’t bear it if he hurt Seth, and he would not let anyone else hurt him, either, not if he could help it. Angelina had tried to kill him before, and now she was ready to finish the job. What would happen when she killed him? One story that his mother would tell them as children was about a bloodbound pair. He thought hard, trying to remember it. In the end of the story the Claret was driven into a bloodlust madness when villagers had burned his Wren as a witch.  

What would happen with Seth? What happened to a Wren if the Claret died? His heart ached with uncertainty. Nothing good would happen, that he knew. Seth should never have been involved in any of this, should never have been involved with a worthless vampire like himself.  All of this was his fault, but Seth was the one who would pay for it.

They had been walking, the henchman had given him a moment to stand up, but now they approached the fence. He hadn’t been paying attention, lost to his guilty thoughts, when he tripped over something on the pavement.

He lost his balance and fell forward, catching himself with his hands just before he slammed his face into the pavement. The henchman didn’t seem to notice. He kept walking, tugging the chain as if Anri were an errant dog on a walk. He struggled to pick himself up, half running and gasping to keep up so that he could breathe.

He had absolutely zero confidence that he was going to escape from Angelina a second time. She apparently needed his blood to finish something, and he knew first hand what Angelina was like when she was determined.

Cloak Guy glared at the Spider-cat as it disappeared into a rusty door at the top of a few steps against the side of the building. He half-dragged Anri through a rusty chain link fence, peeling back a reddish brown section, weathered and stiff, then crawling through, dragging Anri with him. The fence dragged across his back and he winced as the sharp metal sliced into his back. It fell closed immediately behind him and the chain that connected him and Anri was caught between the cut metal.

This was his chance. He could yank the chain away from the henchman and make a run for it. He purposely fell to his hands and knees, yanking the chain from the henchman’s hand, but it was still stuck on the fence. Anri growled, wrapping his hands around the chain and yanking, but he was stuck fast. Moving faster than he had expected, the henchman jumped forward, grabbing Anri by the foot.

He couldn’t get caught, he had to get away, for Seth. He had to escape. Despite how much he hated himself, he didn’t want to die. Sneering, he put his weight into kicking the henchman. Instead of the kick connecting, Cloak Guy caught his foot and used it to drag him through the fence. The sharp, rusty wires of the fence cut his chest, and he barely had time to throw up his hands to protect his face as the henchman roughly pulled him through the hole. His vision filled with bright white flares and stars danced in his head as it slammed into the hard, cold ground with the last tug of the henchman’s surprisingly strong hands.

He was through the fence now and the henchman released his foot, huffing from exertion. Anri tried to get up and run, but his body barely responded. Everything felt sore, torn and tattered. He had barely staggered to a standing position before he remembered the chain attached to the spelled choke collar around his neck.

His hands shot up to his neck but it was too late. Angelina grabbed the loose end of the chain and yanked hard enough to drop him back to his knees. Black spots danced over his vision. He could barely see anything through the spots. Something told him that it was probably not a good sign.

“See, Anri, this is what I mean about good help. So hard to find. Come along, Jacob,” she called out as she walked Anri like a dog. His hatred was pure and concentrated as she moved with ease, dragging Anri’s body behind her effortlessly. Goddamn spelled collar.

“It’s Jason, ma’am,” he corrected her softly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she replied sarcastically. “Apparently you think I care,” she said harshly as she tugged Anri along behind her. “Perhaps I’ll take it upon myself to remember your name if you stop failing at every task I assign you.”

Anri smelled his own blood in the cold crisp air where the sharp metal wire ends had dug deep into the flesh of his back, legs and chest. The scrapes burned viciously. At least he wasn’t at risk to get tetanus, that calm and disconnected voice reassured him.

The chain dragged him, entirely disregarding the laws of physics. Anri tried to stand up again but she moved too quickly and he ended up being dragged across the concrete over broken glass, rocks, brick shards and other trash that had accumulated from years of neglect, bored teenagers and the homeless.

Nothing around him was familiar. He had no idea of where he was. The air smelled different, astringent and chemically polluted. The visible horizon was littered with industrial sized vacant lots and old dilapidated factories from economic glory days gone by.

He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse when she slowed. He decided it was a curse seconds later as she dragged him up some steps to a rusted, yet otherwise featureless metal door. Each step was accented with scraping and awkward twisting of his limbs as they failed to function. Each step gave him bolts of acute pain which mixed with the throbbing in his head, the burning from each of his lacerations, and in the lack of sufficient oxygen in his lungs.

Time melted like the glaciers as she dragged him through a big, open room full of refuse and broken glass. He felt each shard as it embedded into his flesh. Tears were streaming down his face before he realized he was crying. Finally, finally, finally she stopped at a door to what seemed to be an office. The door was locked with a gaudy gold padlock. That disconnected voice in his head thought the lock was theatrically appropriate for Angelina.

“Oh, stop crying, Anri. You always were such a wimp. Shut up!” she yelled at him. Her voice echoed in the cavernous factory floor. She held his chain in one hand, wrapping it around her delicate looking wrist. She pulled that tiny red clutch from out of thin air and he shivered violently. Was she calling another one of those Spider-cat demons? Or something worse? She fished around inside the small clutch with the same hand that his leash was wrapped around and he was instantly relieved that no other creatures were climbing out of it.

“No one feels bad for you, you big baby. No one will miss you,” she teased him coldly. “You know this is the least painful of what I have planned for you. This is all your fault, by the way. If you hadn’t left before I could have finished my summoning and not been stuck with that horrible spider demon. I wouldn’t have had this…this restriction on my power. I am capable of so much more, yet my power is restricted because of some pathetic vampire who thinks he’s better than he actually is.”

It took a few second of rooting around in the clutch before she pulled a key from it. Anri took the opportunity to try to stand, bracing himself against the wall. The golden key was ridiculous, just like the gaudy golden lock. It was a larger version of something that a preteen girl might use to lock her diary, frilly and heart shaped at the top.

That voice in his head reminded him that the small red clutch was the same one that the Spider-cat demon came out from. Half delirious with pain and fear, Anri laughed as the voice commented that there must be a lot of space inside that little purse, and no wonder girls carried them around. Perhaps all purses were magical?

“What are you laughing, at you parasite?” she hissed through clenched teeth, pausing to turn back to him. “You think it’s funny that my powers were restricted because of you? I’ll show you something really funny. Hilarious, even. A real doozy.”

She smiled wickedly and yanked maliciously on the chain. The collar squeezed painfully into the raw skin around his neck. He barely recognized the noise he made. Her laugh was a cold and horrible cackle, the one that used to make him cringe every time. Now it broke him out in a cold sweat.

Turning back to the lock, she slid the golden, heart topped key into the cartoonishly ridiculous padlock. That snarky voice in his mind that kept getting him in trouble refused to cease, wondering if she had ordered the padlock from Acme Co., like Wiley Coyote. He laughed again, he couldn’t help himself, as she turned the key with a dramatic flourish. The noise as it clicked open was strangely louder than it should have been, echoing throughout the empty factory.

Anri’s vision swam in watery waves around him and he swayed, slumping against the wall. Pushing his fingers against the swollen, sore skin of his neck, he tried to dig them beneath the chain, just to loosen it enough for him to grab a full breath of air. His fingers weren’t working, but he still had to try.

As he slid down the wall, his body collapsing from lack of oxygen, he caught sight of the Spider-cat from the corner of his eye. Was he hallucinating? Why didn’t it escape when it could? It skittered nearby, a few yards away from Angelina. Run away, little demon, he thought at it, willing it to leave. At least one of them should get away, and it wasn’t going to be him. He couldn’t even stand up.

The demon met his eyes, and Anri thought that maybe it didn’t really like Angelina all that much. That small, snarky part of his brain that wasn’t at all concerned with his impending doom appreciated that he and Spider-cat had some common ground.

She didn’t seem to notice the demon as she pushed the door open. The scream of rusty metal on metal filled the room, protesting loudly against years of neglect and abandonment. He gagged hard as she dragged him through the door and into a smaller room.

This room was dark and smelled like old paper, dust and mold. He could tell from how the sounds didn’t echo that it was a lot smaller than the other room. The room was too dark for him to see anything, or maybe the black spots had finally overtaken his vision.

The collar was so tight around his neck now that he couldn’t make his throat work, couldn’t swallow or breathe. Gasping, he clawed at his neck, knowing it was futile, but trying to do anything to relieve the pressure, to get some air into his lungs. He couldn’t even whimper as his lungs caught fire and his blood began to boil in his veins like acid. He started to fall but the blackness took him over before he felt his body hit the floor again.

Chapter 16: Emergency Road Trip

Chapter 17, Blood Rituals are so 1797 part b