They approached the door to Fedor's lair silently, each man—be he in human or werewolf form—tense in anticipation of what they would find on the other side.
Dante reached for the knob, only to have the door swing open before he could touch it, as if of its own volition.
They faced a large cavern hewn out of the subterranean rock below the cabin. If it weren't for the stone walls, it could have been the living room of a very wealthy suburbanite's home. Plush Oriental rugs lay on the floor. Two long, heavily upholstered sofas faced an ornate coffee table in the center of the room. Off to one side there was a mahogany table with eight high-backed chairs surrounding it. Long drapes covered the walls of the other side and the far end, giving the impression there should be windows behind them.
Three men sat on the sofas. One—tall and blond, with an aquiline nose—stood, saying with a sneer, "Welcome to my humble abode." As Antton and the others started toward him, he held up his hand. "I would suggest you stay exactly where you are if you want to survive this encounter. Except for you, Brand." He smiled wickedly, beckoning Brand forward.
Brand turned to his companions, saying quietly, "There are at least a dozen vampires surrounding us."
"Fifteen to be exact," Fedor told them, "plus my two friends here. As if that wasn't enough incentive for you to do as you're told…" He walked to the drapes at the back of the cavern. "I have an added motivator for you." He pulled them back.
His action revealed a circular, barred cage, reaching from floor to ceiling. Mag stood inside, his hands lashed by long, leather thongs to the bars on each side of the cage, his fingers close to but not touching them. His head hung down, but when the light hit him, he looked up, revealing deep bruises on his face that matched the ones on his bare chest.
"What have you done to him?" Brand asked angrily.
"Nothing life-threatening—yet. He resisted when I attempted to confine him, so I had to teach him the error of his ways."
"You bastard!" Brand strode toward the cage, searching for the entrance. Fedor did nothing to stop him, only watching with amusement.
When Brand reached out to touch what appeared to be a lever on one bar, Mag shouted, "No. It's electrified." He twisted one hand, showing Brand the burn mark on the palm.
Fedor turned his attention to the others, especially the werewolves. "If you attempt to free him—well, you know what happens when a shock of electricity runs through your bodies. Instant multiple shiftings, back and forth from human to wolf. Not, I'm told, a pleasant experience. And that presupposes you make it past my vampires to the cage." Gripping Brand's arm, he forced him to walk to one of the sofas. "Sit, and we shall all discuss rationally what will happen next."
Brand hesitated, not sitting, but jerking his arm free. Surprisingly, Fedor allowed him to do that, smirking in amusement while pointing to the sofa. Rolling his shoulders as if to loosen the tension he was feeling, Brand then reached back, gripping the hilt of his sword.
"Naughty, naughty," Fedor scowled viciously, advancing to stop him. He spat out an oath when Brand moved like lightening to avoid him, his sword appearing in his hand.
Then, all hell broke loose.
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