Immortals After Dark 05 - Dark Needs at Nights Edge

before.
    “Conrad, stop fighting us!” the tenant said through gritted teeth. His accent sounded Russian. “We don’t want to hurt you.”
    But the madman named Conrad didn’t let up one bit. “God damn you, Nikolai! What do you want with me?”
    “We’re going to rid you of this madness, defeat your bloodlust.”
    “You fools!” He laughed manically. “No one comes back!”
    “Sebastian, grab his arms!” this Nikolai barked to one of the others. “Murdoch, get his damned legs!” As Murdoch and Sebastian rushed to action, she realized that they both resembled Nikolai. All three had the same grim expression, the same tall, powerful bodies.
    Brothers. Their captive must be one as well.
    They carried the bloody and flailing Conrad toward the front double doors. Blood in her home. She shuddered. She detested blood, hated the sight of it, the scent of it. She’d never forget how it’d felt to be bathed in her own, to have it thicken and cool around her dying body.
    Hadn’t Elancourt seen enough of it?
    In a panic, she raced downstairs and shot her hands up, exerting an invisible force against the doors. She used all her strength to keep them sealed tight. No one could bust through this hold—
    The doors flew open. The men barreled through her, making her shiver as though she’d walked through a cobweb. A gust of wind rushed inside, following them in to stir the leaves and grit coating the floor.
    Just how strong were they? Yes, they were huge, but she’d held the doors with what had to be the strength of twenty men.
    Once inside the darkened room, Nikolai cast a chain across the floor with no care for her Italian marble.
    The lunatic broke free once more, making it to his feet. He was towering! He lumbered toward the door, but his bound ankles ensured that he careened into an antique armoire covered with a sheet. It collapsed under the impact. Crushed.
    She’d had to dance two performances to afford that piece, and remembered lovingly polishing it herself. It was one of the few original furnishings that remained.
    After Murdoch and Sebastian hoisted him out of the wreckage, Murdoch wrapped his thick arm around Conrad’s neck, cupping the back of Conrad’s head with his free hand. She could see that Murdoch was tightening this hold with all his might, his face drawn with the effort, the muscles in his neck standing out with strain.
    Somehow Conrad was unaffected for long moments. Eventually, his thrashing eased and he went limp. While Murdoch laid him on the ground, Nikolai hastily affixed the chain to the same radiator he’d tested last night, then attached the other end to Conrad’s handcuffs.
    That’s why Nikolai had been inspecting it? Because he intended to jail this lunatic here?
    Why here?
    “Could you have found an eerier place to keep him?” Sebastian said between breaths as they all stood. At that instant, lightning crackled just outside. The high stained-glass windows were broken in places and cast tinted light, distorting the shadows within. “Why not use the old mill?”
    “Someone might come across him there,” Murdoch answered. “And Kristoff knows about the mill. If he or his men discover what we’re planning... ”
    Who’s Kristoff? What are they planning?
    Nikolai added, “Besides, Elancourt was recommended to me.”
    “Who would ever recommend this?” Sebastian waved a hand around. “It looks straight from a horror movie.” She wished he was wrong, but a bolt flashed then; hued shadows appeared to slither and pounce. Sebastian raised his brows as if his point had been made.
    Nikolai’s gaze focused on his brothers’ faces, studying their reactions as he answered, “Nïx did.” He hesitated, seeming not to know if they’d laugh, rail, or nod.
    Murdoch shrugged and Sebastian nodded grimly.
    Who’s Nïx?
    Sebastian glanced around. “Raises my hackles, though”—another flash of lightning—“almost like it’s... haunted.”
    Sebastian gets a cookie.
    “And you know that’s something for me to say. It’s spooked Conrad as well.”
    Yes, because otherwise he clearly would be fine.
    “The weather makes it seem worse.” Nikolai ran his hand through his wet hair, then wiped his face with his shirttail. “And if there are spirits lingering about? You forget what we are—any ghosts would do well to fear us.”
    Fear them? No living thing could touch her.
    “It’s actually ideal because the place scares people away,” Nikolai continued over another bout