08

BRAN

He would go to the horses, but he was too miserable to get himself to move. And that was saying a lot.

Bran was a vampire. All he ate or drank, was blood, but sometimes, when he was pushed to it or when the occasion called for it, he drank wine. It was something only the oldest of vampires could do.

He grabbed the bottle of whiskey, refilling his glass as he stared at the rich brown liquid absently. Filled with the feeling of helplessness, he had resorted to drinking himself into a stupor. It was the only option that had seemed the most pleasing at the time. One of those options was going down to the cells to have another round of questioning with Maria.

All of them had proved futile so far. What was the point in going?

She was intent on keeping her secret. Keeping his sister's whereabouts from him. Everyday, when he thought that maybe he would get a bite closer to an answer, she proved him wrong by telling him that she didn't know, taking him all the way back to the start.

He hated it.

He also hated that he couldn't actually hurt her the way that he wanted to. He wanted to torture her with the million different techniques he had learnt over the years. He wanted to get her to say the truth through every means necessary.

But he couldn't. Not just because she was a woman and he wasn't used to hurting women, but Alsop because he held a reluctant attention towards her. Well, her fake body.

He should probably try to convince her into shedding this appearance and bringing her new one back up. Maybe that would make him focus on what he actually needed to be focusing on—getting the location of his sister, Iris.

No matter what Maria told him, he knew that she had chosen his family for a reason. The king and queen had not had a lot of enemies. He wasn't even sure that they had enemies. They were peacemakers to the core and usually went around settling disputes. Sure, his father had a mean streak, but he never used it unjustly. He saw no reason why Maria had chosen to attack his parents. His family.

Then she had taken Iris with her, which only meant one thing—Iris was important to them. Or they were trying to make a statement. Trying to get him to come to them, because he hadn't been there at the time of the attack. He had been away on mission.

He didn't believe Maria when she said that she didn't know where Iris was. She had to. That last hesitation before answering his question told him that she knew something. And he didn't know how to get her to admit it.

Could he really bring himself to torture her physically? Was that what she needed?

He lifted his tumbler to his lips, just as he heard footsteps walk into the room behind him. He didn't have to turn to know that it was Edgar. He was the only one that would walk into a room that Bran was in, in such manner.

He walked over until he was sitting on the chair next to Bran. Silently, he reached for Bran's whiskey, grabbed a glass and poured a hefty dose of whiskey into it.

"What do you want, Edgar?"

"You assume I want something?" Edgar asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I know you want to say something." He knew Edgar. He wouldn't come in here if it wasn't because of something important. Plus, he was drinking. Edgar rarely drank.

"No need denying it." Edgar shrugged, taking a heavy swallow of his whiskey. "The girl—"

Bran slammed his glass on the table, cutting Edgar off. "If you're here to talk about her, you might as well leave."

The other man sighed, leaning back in his chair. Reluctantly, Bran turned two stare at him, seeing that he looked a bit pensive and tired. Like he had bad news.

"Did something happen?" Bran couldn't stop himself from asking.

He took a while before answering. "Nothing happened. I just—I think that there's something going on with that woman. Something she's not telling us."

That had him at alert. "What?"

Could she possibly be plotting something? There was no way that could happen when that collar stopped her from using her powers, right? Or was it something else entirely? Something physical? She had once tried to seduce him—was still trying to. He wouldn't put it past her.

"Theres something about her, I'm note sure what, but it's not going to bode well for either of us." Edgar shook his head hard. "She looks leaner than she was when she first came here."

Was that what the issue was?

"She's supposed to." Bran stated, matter of factly. "She's being locked in a room with zero light, zero ventilation and a bed the size of my wrist. Of course, she's going to look different from how she was when she came in here. Thats what happens when a person is abducted, Edgar. The same is probably happening to Iris this very moment."

Edgar shook his head vehemently. "No, that's not it. Even after her meals, she looks the same." He stared at Bran pointedly. "She's supposed to regenerate, Bran. Thats how immortality works. The slightest meal or hint of strength, your muscles are filling and you are regaining everything you lost."

Bran frowned so hard, his vision almost became white. "You think she's not immortal yet?"

"Yes." Edgar said simply.

That couldn't be true. Bran didn't believe that for one second. She was a powerful sorceress capable of wiping out his entire family with a wave of her hand. He had heard a lot of stories about her. She was extremely powerful. There was no way she was still a mortal. Mortals didn't have those kind of powers.

"Not possible."

"It is, actually." Edgar returned calmly. "She grows weaker and leaner by the day. She couldn't even bitch at me when I turned the lights off as I left today. And she usually does."

"Maybe she's just tired." Bran shrugged. "She looked that way too yesterday when I questioned her."

There was simply no way she was a mortal. Edgar could convince him of anything else, but that. Surely, Bran would know a mortal if he saw one. Edgar was usually right about these things, but this time, he was wrong.

Edgar looked like he had a bit more to say on the topic, but he also seemed to be holding his tongue. "Okay, then." He polished of the remainder of his drink, standing up prepared to leave, before stopping, seeming to remember something. "Can I make some adjustments to her meals?"

"No."

"Give her a bath?"

"No," he growled. He didn't like how the words, 'give her a bath' sounded coming out from his mouth. That probably wasn't the way he had meant it, but I didn't want to picture him seeing her unclothed.

Shit. Now, he was seeing her unclothed and he hated how fast and hard his body reacted to the image.

"You're breaking the girl already, Bran. Give her a break."

"She should have thought about that when she decided to target a Karras." Standing, he downed his drink in one gulp, preparing to leave. "I'm not done with her yet."

"I know you're trying to get revenge. A fairly deserved one. But I hope you don't end up making a mistake." With those cryptic words, Edgar walked out of the room. Staring at the spot he had just been standing in, Bran followed.

He wasn't sure what exactly he wanted to to. Wasn't sure what his next action was, but he knew that he was done playing games with the sorceress. She wasn't going to give him the answers he wanted without some major action from his side. And by action, he meant real torture.

She was a woman and he hated hurting them. But she was also an evil sorceress, the murderer of his parents and the captor of his little sister who wasn't even yet nineteen.

He wanted to treat her like the woman that she was, by following his principles and not harming her even when he very well wanted to. But she didn't seem to be getting that idea. Besides, where was her sympathy when she had been mercilessly killing his parents?

Edgar didn't know what the hell he was saying. Bran was not making a mistake. He was avenging his parents and also trying to save his sister.

Everyday, he felt his sister in his heart. He wasn't able to feel her pain or get a grip on how exactly she was feeling, but he knew that she was alive. And he knew that Maria definitely had to be keeping her somewhere.

Instantly when his parents had died, he had felt it. He couldn't feel their presence anymore. They just went blank and that was how he had known that something was wrong. Then he had come back home to his realm and found out that a sorceress and her father had had the audacity to venture into his realm and kill his parents.

He had failed his parents by not being here. By not ensuring that they were safe enough.

But he wasn't going to fail his sister. And he was going to do anything within—and outside—his powers to make sure that he found her.