Absolution by Susannah Sandlin Read Free Book Online

anywhere.
    “Evening, Shelton. I guess the best reason not to kill me is that my father would send you to your final death. Gotta admit, it’s almost worth it to get rid of a piece of trash like you, but not quite.”
    A sharp intake of breath, then Shelton uttered one fat word: “William.” The pressure of the knife blade disappeared, only to be replaced by a hand at the back of Will’s shirt collar, pulling him to his feet. He slipped the keys in his pocket and wrapped his fingers around one of the combat knives.
    Shelton still resembled a weasel—small head, round ears, beady eyes—only a lot thinner. Life with Matthias must not be a banquet these days. A couple inches shorter than Will’s six feet, Shelton had the same thinning white-blond hair and cruel mouth that played a starring role in way too many of Will’s bad memories. The man held his knife in a defensive posture.
    “Your father is going to—”
    Will moved fast, flicking his knife open one-handed and sweeping it across Shelton’s throat, which erupted in a spray of blood more pink than magenta—the sure sign of a hungry vampire. He crumpled to the sparkling white tile foor, and Will moved aside to avoid the splatter.
    Shelton was both blood-bonded to Matthias and a master vampire, which meant his mental skills had developed enough to communicate telepathically, at least for short distances. Will could only hope he’d cut him before Shelton got off a mental alert to Matthias. Matthias would know something was wrong, but Will was betting on his father’s arrogance. Matthias would leave Shelton to get out of trouble by himself, not suspecting it had anything to do with Mirren.
    He debated finishing the asshole off. God knows Shelton deserved it. He was a bully who got off on pain—others’, not his own.
    Will lowered his knife to Shelton’s chest, plunged it in, but found he couldn’t make the final cut to skewer the heart. Killing in self-defense was one thing; this would be murder. Then how would he be any different than his father?
    The custom-made combat knife had a blade of pure silver over steel, so it would take Shelton a while to regain consciousness. Will figured he had at least fifteen minutes, assuming Matthias didn’t show up.
    The guard’s key ring held a half-dozen keys, none of which ft the lock. Will knelt again, using a screwdriver and a lock pick to ease the delicate mechanism open. The click of the bolt sliding back seemed to echo through the cavernous kitchen.
    Will stilled and waited, listening, but heard nothing. Easing the door open, he grabbed his torch case, went down a couple of steps, and softly shut the door behind him. He stopped at the bottom of the staircase. What the hell?
    Mirren sat on the floor of the cell, cradling a woman in his arms. Human. Unvaccinated, from the scent. But he wasn’t feeding, at least not anymore. He was watching her with an expression Will couldn’t identify—it wasn’t Mirren’s usual scowl or his condescending stare. “ ’Bout damned time you got here, William.” Well, the man’s mouth still worked, at least, and his senses too—he’d never looked up.
    “You OK, big guy?”
    Mirren laid the woman carefully on the concrete floor and got to his feet, moving like an eighty-year-old arthritic. “Nothing getting out of this hellhole won’t cure. You got keys?”
    “Nope, gonna have to bust you out, and fast. Daylight’s coming.”
    “Aw, fuck me. Silver bars, remember, Junior? Otherwise, you think I’d still be sitting in here?” Mirren walked to the front of his cell, and Will got a better look at him. Hell, the man could’ve come from a vampire concentration camp. His sweater hung loose off his shoulders. His close-cropped black hair had grown out a little, his beard had grown in, and even if he’d just fed from that woman, his eyes were more platinum than their usual gray. “What did you bring to cut through this silver?”
    “Firepower, my man. Move to the back