Two Hundred Years Ago
Kára sobbed on her knees, unable to fight Hagen’s control, as he taunted her sister, Mist, with a silver blade.
“I had hoped you would be the best of them, sweet Mist. I was wrong,” Hagen said as he dragged the tip of the knife along her cheek. Blood welled, then dripped down her jaw as she whimpered. “You have done nothing but fail me from the start.”
“Please, father,” Mist begged. “Give me…another chance.”
“Jævel!” Kára spat the word—devil—at her sire while Herja, her older sister screamed from the cell behind her. “You will not end her, Hagen!”
“I will do what I please. Or have you forgotten the pain I can cause you?” Hagen, the vampire who had kidnapped her and stolen her human life two centuries ago, crossed the dungeon to stand in front of her. “On your feet.”
Kára’s body obeyed, though the fog that usually clouded her thoughts felt as if it were lifting slightly.
“Bind yourself,” Hagen ordered as he pointed to a table with manacles, chains, and various instruments of torture laid out in front of her.
With halting steps, Kára approached the table and picked up the silver manacles. The torturous metal burned her skin, and she cried out as her fingertips blackened and smoke rose around her. I will not let you kill my sister!” Securing the heavy silver cuff around her left wrist, her knees buckled from the pain. To her left, Hagen plunged the silver blade into Mist’s stomach. Her sister collapsed to the cold stone floor, pressing her hands to the wound. Blood pooled under her, too much for Mist to survive for long.
Kára let out a battle cry, and with all of her remaining strength, she swung her arm towards Hagen. The dangling cuff hit him in the temple, and he roared an oath as he stumbled back. “You. Will. Not. Hurt. Her. Again!” She wrapped her burnt fingers around the chain and used the heavy manacle as a flail, sending it crashing into Hagen’s head again and again.
“Kára!” Herja cried. “Finish him!”
She kicked her sire in the stomach, sending his entire body flying into the far wall, and then sprang for him, pinning him down as she fished the manacle’s key out of his pocket. Once she’d freed herself, she flipped him over and bound his hands behind his back. He moaned quietly, but was otherwise still.
Racing for Mist, she thrust her wrist against her sister’s fangs. “Drink, Mist. Please. My blood will not fully sate you, but it should give you enough strength for us to escape.”
Her sister’s fangs pierced her skin, and after a minute, Mist yanked the blade from her own stomach. “Get…Herja,” she managed.
As soon as Kára had unlocked Herja’s cell, they dragged Hagen inside and slammed the door shut. “I hope you rot,” Herja spat at him.
Kára didn’t care what happened to her sire. As long as she and her sisters were free and never had to see him again.