On The Prowl by Cynthia Eden

says’…
right before you activated that bomb?”
    Sweat trickled down his face. Francis’s body shuddered. “G-game…playing a game…”
    Their near-deaths had been a game? Not likely. “Who told you to play the game?”
    His breath shuddered out.
    “
Tell
me the name of the person who ordered you to play the game.”
    Behind her, she heard a groan. “I thought this would work better,” Rayce grumbled. “That it was supposed to be all wham-bam, you’re under my control, and he instantly tells you everything.” He sighed. “Julian, you may need to pull out the claws again.”
    Her shoulders stiffened. “No, he doesn’t.” Her gaze never left Francis’s. “Give me the name of the person who ordered you to play the game.”
    “S-Simon…”
    Right. Simon. Good. This was—
    “S-Simon says…” A tear leaked from Francis’s eye. “D-die…”
    Not good. Not good at all.
    Francis leapt to his feet. He ran past her, trying to get out of the cell, but Rayce was there and the werewolf just slammed the cell door shut before Francis could escape.
    She thought Francis would stop once the door shut.
    He didn’t. He ran right into the closed door. He hit the bars hard enough to send his body shuddering back a few feet, and then, in the next blink, he was up and running for the bars again. He hit them with his head. Again and again. Blood covered his face.
    “Stop!” Rose yelled, but he didn’t stop. So she and Julian lunged for him. They grabbed Francis at the same time. Already, one of his eyes had swollen shut from the impact. His lip was busted, his nose seemingly broken, and blood poured from a wound on his forehead.
    “H-have to d-die…” Francis whispered. “Simon says…Simon says d-die and I-I do.” He strained in their hold, and she had no doubt that, if he had broken free then, he would have just kept banging his head against those bars. He would have banged and banged until he killed himself.
    Not exactly an easy way to go. Not exactly a way most folks would
choose.
    “He’s still under someone else’s compulsion.” She had thought he was clear when they’d pulled him out of the water, but she’d been wrong. She could see it now. “The compulsion is buried deep, and when I push him, it comes forward to stop me. He’s supposed to die before revealing the truth.”
    Rayce whistled. “That’s one strong compulsion.”
    Julian dragged the guy across the room. “Bring in rope. We’re going to need to tie this guy down so he doesn’t hurt himself.”
    Rayce’s footsteps hurried away.
    Rose just stared at Francis, her heart hurting for him. He was helpless, a puppet who had no choice at all. A man who would die for something he didn’t understand.
    Life wasn’t fair.
    Rayce was back moments later. He and Julian tied Francis securely onto a chair, locking him down so that the guy couldn’t move at all. When they were done, Julian stayed behind Francis, frowning down at him, and Rayce paced to Rose’s side. “Didn’t think compulsions were supposed to work like that.”
    “It’s a strong compulsion,” Julian said. “The only way to make one that cuts that deep is through blood or through some very powerful magic.” A muscle flexed along his jaw. He looked damn unhappy as he added, “Just like the only way to break one that deep—”
    “Is through blood,” Rose finished.
Or magic.
And since she had no magic to speak of, her only hope was blood. She knew this. She might not like being a vamp but she’d tried to learn as much as she could about the undead life. The majority of that education had come from the Lord of the Dark himself. Right after her transformation, Luke had kept paying her pop-up visits. Until she’d told him to keep his ass away from her unless he could change her back.
    He’d stayed away.
    “So, you take his blood and you break the compulsion?” Rayce asked.
    “Not exactly.” She lifted her wrist to her mouth. Her fangs extended and she bit down, not