LITMIR.BIZ

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muster, tearing flesh as she went. His severed jugular spurted a wall of blood, covering her. She choked and gagged, jumping out of the way as he fell forward, his features now forever frozen in a state of surprise.

      Tears fell freely as Alison made quick work of wrapping the second piece of wire around his neck and pulling it towards her, the wire cut into her hands, leaving deep lacerations in its wake, but it was worth it. The wire cut swiftly through his flesh, though she had to stamp on the bone to break it.

      You had to completely sever the head to stop the Circle taking over the body, forcing it to live on even in death.

      When finally it was done, she collapsed against the tiled wall of the shower, exhausted. She was shaking so badly she could barely keep her teeth from chattering. She’d actually done it. Relief washed through her.

      Though it was too soon to celebrate; she still had the second brute to deal with and Maker knows how many more on the other side of that door, but the first hurdle was over. That sick bastard, the tomb who had violated and beaten her in more ways than she wanted to remember, was finally dead.

      Those hands couldn’t hurt anyone any more.

      Taking a deep breath, Alison pulled herself together; it wouldn’t take long for the second brute to come in for his turn. The scent of blood hung thickly in the air, and a ‘turned’ vampire had no morals or control. The High Lord was a Magi, a magical being who was also born vampire. This is why he was so powerful, because he had the ability to create an army of un-dead. Alison frowned. He gave vampires a bad name. Maker, the actual vampire community were strictly born only. They never ‘made’ vamps unless the circumstances were extreme. And though they were a dangerous, deadly bunch, they would never do what that bastard, the High Lord, had done.

      Shaking herself, Alison turned on the shower, using the scalding hot but blessedly clean water to wash her face and hands. She pulled her jeans back on and tied the ragged bits of material that made up her T-shirt around her chest. It didn’t look good but at least it covered her. Mostly.

      Leaving the water running, she quickly patted the dead tomb down; he had nothing on him but his knives. Not even a damn mobile phone.

      She took the knives and left him where he’d landed. Sure, she could take his jacket, it would give her some much needed warmth; but she couldn’t stand the idea of anything of him touching her, not even a jacket. His scent would be all over it and even that seemed like hell to her.

      Carefully, Alison stepped behind the door to the bathroom, bracing herself against the wall. Waiting for brute number two to make his entrance. It didn’t take long. These sick bastards were definitely without patience.

      “Come on!” the black-haired tomb thundered from the other side of the door. “You’ve been in there forever. It’s my goddamn turn now.” She heard his hand land on the door handle.

      “I’m damn well coming in. You better have washed her. I don’t want your stink all over her when it’s my turn.” His voice reverberated through the room as the door began to open…

      “OI!” he shouted, opening the door fully, “I said…”

      His sentence got cut short as he stepped into the bathroom, the door swinging closed behind him. “What the –”

      Alison didn’t wait for him to finish, just leapt at him from behind, sending the tip of his companion’s knife straight into the back of his neck. The guy didn’t stand a chance; he fell forward, his body hitting the floor with a heavy crack. She’d killed him instantly, the second the knife had hit his spine. She repeated the process of cutting through his neck so his head was completely severed before scrambling back against the wall, choking down air as she did.

      Adrenaline was still pulsing through her even as tears fell. She broke down sobbing in fear and terror. She was so stupidly lucky he hadn’t turned around. She hadn’t had the strength to fight him; she’d used up the very last of it lunging at him. Her body felt so weak she doubted she’d be able to stand.

      And now she was a killer. She’d never taken a life before. And now she looked down on the two men that had taken their last breath because of her, she felt sick. Life was precious, something not to be wasted. And she’d taken it away from them.

      The worst part of it was that she didn’t feel anything. There was no guilt, no regret, just nothing. These tombs had deserved to die, they had made her life a living hell and she had no doubt there were many females prior to her who had suffered the same abuse she had and perhaps had not come away from it alive.

      Back in his ‘den’ as the others liked to call it, Dax was frantically performing search after search. The Internet was a wonderful thing these days; it gave unlimited access to the world’s secrets if you knew where to look. The sun was out and shining brightly, he’d been at this all night. It had been about five in the morning when he’d finally got home and the Djinn had gone straight to bed. He revelled in the warmth of the sun’s rays shining through his glass house. Though the entire building was built with bullet-proof reflective glass, some of the rays still seeped through and lit the entire house up. He was sat in his large leather chair at his desk, staring at his huge computer screen – which was, in truth, a floor-to-ceiling glass panel that had a graphics board hardwired into the glass, so not only could he see through it and watch the land behind but he could also bring images up on it. Not even the government had technology this advanced. Perks of being part of the council’s structure.

      There was a loud digital ping as his phone went off next to him. He grabbed it, and hit ‘answer’ as he shoved it against his face.

      “Speak,” he barked into the receiver.

      “Dax, its Tam.” Her husky tones filled his ears.

      “What have you got?”

      “OK, I’ve been out to the beach where Alison was taken. You’re right, there was a boat that had been pulled ashore several weeks ago. There is still an imprint in the sand from the bottom of it, though it’s been so battered by the sea we can’t tell much from it.”

      “Tell me something I don’t know,” he snapped, probably a little more harshly than he should have. It wasn’t her fault Alison had been taken. And to Tamriel’s credit, she was up and working on the case at five in the morning, as soon as Dax had texted her. She was one of the hardest working, most driven females he’d ever come across.

      “Cool it, Dax, don’t be an arsehole,” she snapped back at him. He heard her shush Leyth who was growling in the background. Mated males could be ridiculously protective and Leyth was no exception.

      “Sorry. I’m just –”

      “Yeah yeah, tell me something I don’t know,” she snorted, cutting him off. “Anyway,” she continued, “after I’d been down to the beach I got on the net and I’ve been rooting through the Navy’s database.”

      “Ah, you really think the Navy is going to be involved?”

      “Hell no, but they do sell off equipment that has been discontinued.”

      “And?”

      “And about six months ago they sold an ex-miniature submarine to an unknown bidder. They are nicknamed ‘midget submarines’ because they weigh less than 150 tonnes, can be manned by as little as two people and have no on-board accommodation.”

      “So we think the Circle bought it?”

      “Well, we’ve been looking into local harbour auctions too. They have sold over twenty boats in the last six months to an ‘unknown’ bidder too.”

      “How do we know they are related?”

      “Here is where it gets interesting. The submarine and the boats were all sold to an unknown bidder but they’re never untraceable, there are always accounts that the payments need to come from.”

      “Not if they do it in cash.” She made a strange ‘ahh’ noise, making her sound like a teacher whose student had just got

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