by Rye Brewer
“I do.”
“Do you trust that I would give my life for you?”
“I do. Though I wouldn’t want you to.”
“I need you to come with me now. I would leave you here so you can rest but I don’t think I’ll ever let you out of my sight again. I hope you don’t have a great need for personal space, because you’re not going to get much.”
She continued down the ladder at that and closed the door overhead. Once she was by my side, she slid her uninjured hand into mind. “I trust you. Let’s go.”
I could only hope I was worthy of her faith in me.
I pulled her behind me at a run, knowing that if my much wider and taller body could make it through without colliding with a wall or the stone overhead, she would be fine. Genevieve was hardly a novice when it came to the art of subterfuge.
We made it down the length of the tunnel before reaching an intersection, then turned left. “We’re on our way there now. Not much further.” I could sense her growing fatigue and weakness and begged any unseen force guiding our movements that she would hold on long enough.
She did, and we reached our room unscathed. It was just as we’d left it, which could not have come as more of a relief. I went straight to the supply and tossed her a bag. “Hurry. You need your strength.”
She opened the bag with shaking hands and held it to her mouth, sucking the blood straight from it. Meanwhile, I went about placing the rest in the sack. There wouldn’t be food for me, not yet, but I could find what I needed along the way.
Blood was far more difficult to obtain without attracting attention.
“That was what I needed,” she sighed once she’d drained the bag as completely as she could. “I feel better already.”
“Good, because we need to go. Immediately. I don’t even dare go back to the cabin for clean clothing. I hope you don’t mind traveling rough.”
“I can learn to live with it, so long as I’m with you.” She smiled and reached for me. “I can hardly wait.”
I recognized the excitement in her eyes and felt it reflect in my own. I could hardly wait, either. We were going to build a life together.
Where? I couldn’t say, but we would find a way. So long as we were together, two reasonably clever and resourceful individuals, we would be just fine.
Only when I turned toward the open door was it clear there would be one more hurdle to overcome.
“Well, well, well.” My mother’s manicured hands found her hips. “Look what we have here. Are you planning on going somewhere—without a going-away party, at that?”
14
Genevieve
I didn’t know who she was, but I already knew I did not like her.
In fact, considering the malice in her voice and the coldness in her expression, it would’ve been safe to say I loathed her. Especially seeing as how she stood between us and escape.
Anton spoke through clenched teeth, his words slightly slurred as a result. “Mother. Get out of our way.”
His mother! Well, that explained quite a bit. Little wonder Isolde had felt an affinity for her. They were clearly cut from the same cloth. Both beautiful, cold, imperious. Both manicured, coiffured and dressed within an inch of their lives.
I wanted to remind this glorified canine that she could easily meet the same fate as the one I had just killed, but that would mean speaking of Isolde’s death, and there was no telling whether anyone knew of that yet. I settled for silence, at least for the time being, while mother and son stared each other down.
“If you believe for one instant that I intend to allow your escape with this bloodsucker, you’ve deluded yourself.” She looked at me, eyes flickering over my face and body, and I felt for the first time an acute longing for my couture, my cases of cosmetics and jewels and shelves of shoes.
Had this shifter seen me in my glory, she would’ve been blinded—or at least somewhat less full of herself.
“We’re leaving. I want nothing to do with you, with Father, with the family name. I hereby renounce it.”
“You do no such thing,” she hissed.
“I’ll sign it in blood, Margaux. Whatever it takes. I want none of this anymore. I want a life of my own, away from you and this place. And you will not stop me.”
“That’s what you think.”
“Don’t make me force you out of my way.” His voice took on a sorrowful note now as he regarded her with an utter lack of feeling. I saw no love between them, no understanding or appreciation. Simply nothing.
“You will be the son your father needs,” she growled. “Do not force me to destroy this blood drinker in front of you.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You wouldn’t be the first to try, dog.”
Anton held an arm in front of me when it appeared his mother was about to lunge. “No!” he shouted, his voice too loud for the small chamber. “Do not touch her!”
“She speaks of our kind this way, and you want to run away with her?” She was enraged, eyes wild, teeth bared. “I could snap her in two without hardly trying, and she has the gall—”
“Enough from both of you.” Anton glanced my way, shaking his head. I shrugged. Old habits die hard, and I was not about to let an inferior being criticize me, but I would let it pass if it meant not upsetting him further.
“We’re in a hurry,” he said, turning back to his mother. “We’re leaving. Right now. Goodbye.”
“You cannot!”
“I can, and I will!” That’s good, he swept her aside with a wave of one arm. She slammed into the wall before sliding to the floor, dazed.
“Damn it,” he muttered, taking me by my good hand. “Now we truly have to hurry. We’ll be lucky if she didn’t bring guards.”
With that, we took off down the tunnel at a flat run, ducking low-hanging beams and unused work lights. I’d never been so glad for the presence of fresh blood in my system, for it gave me the strength to run when I knew I wouldn’t have been able to before.
I knew the way well enough, having gone from the cottage to the waterfall more than a few times. It was not a long way, but the going was rather treacherous in the darkness.
When we were both running for our lives.
Unlike the other tunnel exits, this particular opening led straight to the outside world. It ended at the mouth of a cave, which sat roughly a hundred yards from the waterfall in question.
I’d been captured here. I did what I could to shake off the memories, spotty and choppy as they were, in favor of following Anton as we ran for the boat.
I couldn’t recall the last time I’d been so excited—and so frightened. Not even while coursing away from Headquarters or while locked in that dreadful cabin had I known such fear. For there was no turning back. We had no friends here, no allies. Only each other.
And we were running out of time. Every second might spell our doom.
I was covered in scrapes and scratches from dozens of low-hanging branches before we came to a stop close to the edge of the river. I saw the boat then, tied off to an old dock which appeared to not have been used in many years. He’d placed leafy limbs over the boat’s hull, crisscrossing them to camouflage its presence.
The tree cover was thick, protecting me as I helped him clear off the refuse before jumping in and ducking below to the vessel’s cabin. I watched from below as he untied it and climbed aboard.
“Let’s pray this works,” he muttered, fishing the key out from beneath the console.
“I don’t pray,” I called up.
He laughed. “Neither do I, but there’s a first time for everything.” With that, he inserted the key into the ignition and turned. The sound of an engine roaring to life was the sweetest thing I’d ever known.
Only when we were pulling away from the shore and pointed downriver could I breathe more easily. We would be safe—I hadn’t believed it until just then, not really. I watched from the safety of the cabin as he steered overhead.
He had given everything up for my
sake. His wealth, his connections, his future. All of it. For me. And he’d just risked his life for our sake. “Thank you,” I whispered, sinking into a leather-covered bench beside the stairs. “Thank you.”
After what seemed like hours, the engine quieted. The sudden change roused me from the stupor I had fallen into.
“What happened?” I called up, my pulse beginning to race again.
“Don’t worry. We’re more than far enough from De Clerq land to avoid capture now. No one followed.” Moments later, he joined me. “I dropped anchor. I thought it might be wise to discuss what we plan to do now. We only have so much fuel, after all.”
He sank into a club chair with a sigh, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever known this sort of exhaustion. I thought I did before, mind you, but this is entirely new.”
“I can relate to that.” Though I had plenty of blood to carry me through and help strengthen me for at least the next few days, perhaps even a week if I was willing to ration carefully. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the kind of synthetic blood that didn’t need refrigeration was substandard in both taste and sustenance when compared to the higher grade that needed refrigeration. It hardly seemed to matter at this point.
“What now?” He looked at me, a faint smile playing over his handsome face. Even now, even dirt-smudged and exhausted, he was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.
“You’re the one with the boat,” I reminded him with a grin. “Where do you plan to take us?”
“I don’t think the boat will be enough. Not to get us as far away as we need to go. Europe is out of the question.”
There was no denying the way his words caused a deep ache in my chest. “You’re certain?”
“My family’s name is known both in shifter circles and by humans,” he shrugged. “There is nowhere we could hide for long on the continent. We’ll have to go to America.”
“How will we get there?” We had no cash on hand. I didn’t dare reach out to anyone in my circle, as they might know of my association with Anton and I would not expose him to discovery.
“I can arrange something with a cargo ship captain,” he explained. “Otherwise, a pilot would have to file a flight plan, and I don’t trust that. I would rather leave as few clues behind as possible. The captain will keep our presence secret.”
“I trust you,” I replied. What else was there to say? We had few choices available and were fortunate to have any.
“The question then remains, where do we go from there?” He pointed at me. “I think this is more your area than mine. I don’t know anyone in the States, not well enough to trust them to protect us.”
I did not have to think on it for long. There was only one person I could imagine relying on—and even then, I was not entirely sure he would offer shelter. “We might be able to go to Jonah Bourke. He might be willing to offer protection in exchange for…”
The confusion on his face cleared in an instant when he remembered our prior conversation about Jonah.
“In exchange for me,” he finished.
15
Cari
Now that we knew we were being monitored at all times, we were far more careful with what we said to each other. We hadn’t exactly been holding lengthy conversations prior to that, but now we spoke even less.
And it was hardly helping morale. We were more self-contained than ever, which meant there was nothing to do but stew. I watched as the others started to deteriorate even further, growing sunken-eyed and fearful.
“Don’t let them see you like this,” I whispered after what was probably another three or four days since the conversation I had with my father. “They’ll win if they see they can break you down.”
“What difference does it make?” Naomi wondered.
She barely lifted her shoulders, but I could tell she meant to shrug. I hated seeing her like this—seeing all of them like this.
“It makes a great difference,” Gage said, backing me up. Even though he looked just as worn and beaten down as the rest of them, he understood what it meant to stay strong for the sake of one’s sanity. “I was once beaten within an inch of my life and nearly drained of blood, all at the hands of an evil vampire who destroyed my family. Needless to say, he had every intention of killing me. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. That’s the only thing to keep me alive, I’m sure of it. I know we have it in us to get through this, but we cannot give them the satisfaction of watching us waste away. It’s what they want.”
“If we give them what they want, will they make this stop?” Raze sighed. “My apologies, sincerely, but I don’t know how much more of this I can stand. Cari, didn’t you say it seemed like he was coming around?”
I might have lied to them about that, all in the hopes of easing their minds. Stupid me. I should’ve been honest rather than trick them into thinking things would ever get better.
“I thought he was,” I barely breathed, hoping nobody watching could hear me. “I really did. I thought I got through to him—it seemed like I did.”
“What’s the hold-up, then?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. I could call him out again,” I suggested, looking around at all of them.
“Do you think he would fall for it so easily this time?” Gage asked, looking skeptical.
“It’s the only thing I can think to do. I want to be of some sort of help to us. I clearly haven’t done enough yet. I know I can do better.”
“You’re talking about him like you’re talking about somebody who’s sane and reasonable and not a hateful monster,” Naomi reminded me. “We both know I’ve spent more than my share of time with a hateful monster. There’s no reasoning with them, especially when they’re getting what they want.”
“I hate to admit it, but I think you’re right,” Raze agreed, defeated.
“You hate to admit that I’m right?” She managed a ghost of a smile, which for some reason made me want to cry. She was still in there. She was still trying.
“No,” he chuckled. “I mean, I don’t want you to be right about this, but I think you are. Why did I leave my clan? Because of the unreasonable, tyrannical leader. There was no option but to get out of there before we all went down.”
“And look where I led you,” I observed with a sad smile. “I’m so sorry.”
“Once again, this isn’t your fault. None of us think it is.”
It didn’t matter. I thought it was. No, I knew it was my fault. Every ounce of suffering they went through broke my heart a little more.
I was about to confess this when the lock outside the door clicked. We exchanged wide-eyed looks but didn’t say a word. I couldn’t speak for any of them, but my heart started racing like a runaway train engine.
Four burly men entered the room, and I recognized two of them as the pair who had taken me to my father a few days ago.
“What do you want?” I asked before anyone else had the chance.
“We’re moving you,” one of them was kind enough to inform us.
“Where to?” Naomi asked, looking around, chin trembling. She reminded me of nothing so much as a rabbit in a snare. Terrified, knowing the end was coming. Knowing there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
“It’s all right,” I announced. “It’s okay. He’s having us moved to a nicer place. I swear.” I looked to our escorts for confirmation, but neither of them agreed or even said another word. Terrific. I hoped they wouldn’t make a liar out of me.
They didn’t. One by one, they unchained us and led us down the comforting hallway to the pseudo-hospital room I had seen before.
“What took so long?” I asked as they chained me to one of the beds, just like they had on my first visit.
“He’ll tell you,” one of them muttered without looking at me.
I assumed he meant my father, which meant we were going to have a visit from him.
“Holy hell,” Raze whispered on entering the room. His eyes were like
saucers as he looked around. “I would never have guessed anything like this existed here. Where the hell are we?”
Under my father’s house, of course. Didn’t everyone have dungeons and hospital rooms and such under their house?
Once we were all in place, our escorts left the room.
And my father entered.
“Well, well.” He rubbed his hands briskly together. “I see we’re all settled in.”
“What’s this all about?” Gage immediately asked, glaring at him.
The life had come back to his eyes, even some of the color in his cheeks. It was good to see, though I wished there was a better reason for it.
“I’ll tell you, since you demand to know.” Dad seemed to size him up, which I guessed he’d been doing all along through his video feed. But seeing someone in person was different than watching them on a monitor, I supposed. “I’ve decided, at Carissa’s request, to move you to more comfortable quarters. My apologies at having taken so long—we needed to make several adjustments to the area.”
Now that he mentioned it, I could see the changes for myself. There were more cameras in each corner of the room. There was now medical equipment here and there—monitors, IV poles, and a table with locked drawers.
I immediately wondered what those drawers held if they needed to be locked. Syringes? Medication?
“You’ll be glad to know that, along with the more comfortable accommodations, you will have access to your own private bathroom with a shower,” my father announced.
“A shower?” Naomi breathed. I was surprised there weren’t literally stars in her eyes. After weeks of being locked up—I assumed it had been weeks, but I could’ve been wrong—even something as simple as a shower became a luxury. I could hardly wait.
“We wish to work with you, rather than against you,” he explained, looking at each of us in turn. He saved me for last, and his gaze was heavy. “If we work together, there’s a much better chance of everyone getting what they want out of this arrangement.”
