Michael stared at Lucian, his chest aching from the earlier blow. "You captured me for the wish-granting Dragon Ball, didn't you?" His voice was hoarse. "I hid it, but before you arrived, I told Selene where it was. It's been hours now. She has it."
Lucian, who had been methodically preparing a syringe, paused. He turned slowly, studying Michael with a new, clinical interest. "Let me understand this correctly." His voice was calm, measured. "You're saying you possessed a Dragon Ball that can grant any wish, and you think we captured you because of this Dragon Ball."
He leaned closer, the faint smell of antiseptic wafting from him. "And you gave this wish-granting Dragon Ball to vampires?"
Lucian straightened up and burst out laughing. It was not a warm sound. It was a sharp, barking laugh that echoed harshly off the concrete walls of the damp room. "That's the funniest joke I've heard this century!"
Michael's defiant expression faltered. The realization hit him like a splash of cold water. They hadn't been hunting him for the Dragon Ball at all.
Which meant giving its location to Selene had been completely, utterly pointless. Stupid, even.
A sick feeling settled in his stomach. He could only hope Selene would honor their deal and transfer the ten million to his account.
"It's pathetic," Michael said, trying to salvage some shred of dignity. He lifted his chin. "A werewolf who's been fighting vampires for centuries doesn't even know about Dragon Balls."
He pushed on, his voice rising slightly. "Selene knew. She was willing to pay a fortune for it. She said people on the black market are offering five million dollars each."
"You need to collect all seven to make a wish. Do you think an ordinary person like me could gather seven Dragon Balls on my own?"
Michael's voice cracked with frustration. "Besides, if you're not after the Dragon Ball, why did you capture me? I'm nobody. No power, no connections, nothing."
Lucian studied him carefully, the amusement fading from his face. "Are you telling the truth?"
Michael met his gaze, his jaw tight, and said nothing.
Lucian didn't press. Instead, he walked to a laptop set up on a steel workbench. The click of the keys was loud in the quiet room. He opened a secure browser and navigated to the dark web. Within minutes, he found the listings. Dragon Balls. Five million dollars per sphere. Multiple buyers, all anonymous, all with verified escrow.
"Kraven, you worthless piece of shit," Lucian muttered, his fingers tightening on the edge of the workbench. "You knew about this and never told me."
A cold rage boiled in his chest. Dragon Balls that could grant wishes. Such power. And the vampires, his mortal enemies, had gotten there first.
If he had a Dragon Ball, just one, he'd make one simple wish. No more vampires in the world. Every last one of them dead.
He turned back to Michael, his eyes cold and calculating. "How many Dragon Balls do the vampires have?"
Michael's eyes narrowed. "You believe me now?"
"I don't know their exact number. But the one I had should be in their possession by now. And if they're willing to pay that much for it, they must have at least one already."
Lucian nodded slowly, his mind racing. "Doesn't matter how many they have. As long as they don't have all seven."
He looked at Michael with a renewed, predatory interest. Once Raze returned with the vampire elder's blood, he would combine it with Michael's unique bloodline. Lucian would transcend both species. He would lead the werewolves through their evolution. Then they would storm the vampire castle with overwhelming force.
Whether to destroy them or to take their Dragon Balls, he would have every advantage.
Michael watched Lucian pick up a fresh syringe, his hands trembling against the restraints. "I told you about the Dragon Balls. The least you can do is tell me why you captured me."
His voice was thin. "Your war has nothing to do with me."
Lucian swabbed Michael's arm with a cold alcohol pad. He then met his eyes. "No, no, no. This is your war now, too."
He held the syringe up to the light. "You're already a werewolf. The vampires will kill you the moment they see you again. Simply because you'll become one of us."
"I don't know what deal you made for that Dragon Ball," Lucian continued, his voice almost gentle, "but trust me, you won't survive once they discover what you are."
Michael thought about it. He remembered how the vampires' attitudes had shifted instantly after Selene saw his bite wound. The pity in their eyes. The cold calculation.
His gaze fell on the heavy, tooth-like pendant around Lucian's neck. A fragment of a memory, not his own, suddenly surfaced. It was vivid and immediate. Lucian, chained in a castle dungeon. A vampire woman with dark hair, dragged into a shaft of light, burning to ash while Lucian screamed, trapped and helpless.
Just as the memory faded, Lucian rolled up his own sleeve and injected Michael's blood directly into his arm.
"They forced you to watch her die," Michael said quietly, his voice hollow. "Sonya. That's the spark that started this war. I can see it. I can see it like I was there."
Lucian's expression, so hard a moment before, softened with an ancient, profound grief. "We were slaves once. The vampires' daytime guardians. I was born into slavery, but I didn't hate it. I even married a vampire."
He looked away, his gaze distant. "The covenant forbids species mixing. Victor fears it. He's terrified of what we could become together."
His voice hardened, the grief turning to cold, tempered steel. "So Victor killed Sonya. His own daughter. Burned her alive in sunlight because she loved me."
"This is his war. Victor's war. He's spent six hundred years trying to exterminate our entire species."
Michael processed this, the last of his hope draining away. "Selene," he asked, the question barely a whisper, "she said she'd keep me safe."
Lucian's laugh was bitter and contemptuous. "Unless she wants to die. If Victor finds out she's protecting a werewolf, she won't survive his judgment. If you were still human, maybe. But you're one of us now."
The door to the room burst open, slamming against the concrete wall. A squad of armed werewolves entered. Their leader addressed Lucian, his voice urgent and strained. "Chief, Raze and his team ran into trouble."
Lucian's expression darkened. "Damn it. What happened? Give me details."
He strode from the room, leaving Michael alone, bound to the chair.
Outside the room, Lucian listened, his face growing uglier by the second. His subordinate laid out what they knew. Raze had successfully killed the vampire elder and obtained her blood. But then the Fraternity had intercepted them. Raze and his entire team had been taken. None had returned. The information came from a witness, a low-level scout, who'd seen the Fraternity loading the captured werewolves into black vehicles.
This was Raze's information-selling coming back to bite them. They'd literally shot themselves in the foot.
Outside the stronghold's hidden windows, far above, the first pale, gray light of the sun crept above the horizon. A new day had begun.