The Sacrifice: Forbidden, Book 1

by Samantha Sommersby

  “Abaddon took her. It was just for a minute, right before Stanley burst through the door,” I said.

  Will looked at Katherine. “Are you up to telling us what happened? The more we know, the more we can learn, the better prepared we’ll be.”

  “Yes,” said Katherine.

  Will smiled. “Good. We’ll get Stanley settled first,” he said, then he reached down, grabbed the edge of the throw and dragged Stanley from the room.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “Does anyone want some coffee?” Charles asked.

  Both Will and I raised our hands.

  “Laura, can you let Spike out? He’s been stuck inside all night. It looks like the sun’s coming up.”

  “Sure thing. Katherine’s still sleeping?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, much to my relief. Reliving everything she experienced again last night exhausted her.”

  Charles placed two steaming mugs of coffee on the table then sat down to study the detailed map that Will had drawn during the night delineating each and every potential exposure. “I had always thought that the security here was excellent. I didn’t realize we were so vulnerable.”

  “Your goal is different now. Previously you were worried about theft. People who want to steal art don’t want it damaged. They have to get inside, then get themselves and the merchandise out unscathed.”

  Will picked up one of the cups and took a sip.

  “Are we really this vulnerable?” I asked.

  “In a word, yes. I’m not sure we can protect you here. Not with the resources available. Not with what we’re up against. The best we can do is to know when it’s coming and try to stage a defense.”

  Charles pointed to a notation on the map. “What do you mean by airspace?”

  “Damien’s a pilot. An air attack is a possibility. That’s why I’m monitoring the air traffic.” Will pointed to one of the many monitors set up in the kitchen.

  “Good Lord,” said Charles.

  “Quite honestly? I’m convinced we need to move you. I’ve started making arrangements. We’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

  “I’ll go wake Katherine and take a quick shower,” I said. Then I grabbed a second cup of coffee and headed upstairs.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.” I leaned down and kissed Katherine tenderly on the lips. “Time to wake up.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. “How’s Stanley?”

  “He’s still out like a light. Let’s shower up. Will says he’s made arrangements to move us someplace safer. He wants us ready to leave in a few hours.”

  Katherine followed me toward the bathroom. I set both cups of coffee on the bathroom counter. “Brought you some coffee.” I shed my robe, relieved myself, flushed the toilet, then moved to turn on the shower. Katherine was standing in the doorway, an amused smile on her face.

  “What?”

  “You’re so open.”

  “Open?” I adjusted the temperature of the water and stepped inside the shower stall.

  “Damien always shut the door.” She followed me inside and slid the door closed. “I don’t think I ever really saw him. I didn’t even realize that until now. I didn’t even realize how wrong that was.”

  “Switch,” I said placing my hands on Katherine’s shoulders and exchanging places with her so that she could get her hair wet. “It’s not the fact that he never took a piss in front of you, love, that he shut the door. That’s just a metaphor.”

  “Are you analyzing me?”

  I reached past her for the shampoo and squeezed a dollop into the palm of my hand. “What? No! Certainly not.” I replaced the bottle and began to lather up my hair. “Switch.”

  Katherine shifted to the back of the shower and continued to glare at me while I rinsed. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Don’t keep me in suspense. What do you think?”

  “Turn around.” I picked up the shampoo, pouring out a generous amount and began working it into her long, golden tresses.

  Katherine tilted her head back and sighed. “Are you trying to distract me with your magic fingers?”

  “It’s not about magic.” One soapy hand slid under her arm and found her breast. “It’s about intimacy.”

  She gasped.

  I released her and moved her back into the water so that she could rinse her hair. Then I leaned back against the cold tile and watched as the lather coursed down her body, running over her neck, breasts, stomach and between her thighs.

  “That’s what was missing with you and Damien. It was missing in my relationship with Reese. Well, that and a lot of other things. In order to have that, you need more than love, you need trust.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes. Do you trust me?”

  “With my life.”

  “Let’s get a move on and get dressed, love. They’re waiting for us.”

  “Wes, have you seen Laura?” asked Charles. He looked frantic, downright panicked.

  “No.” I’d just reached the bottom of the stairs. “Want me to check upstairs?”

  “Yeah, she was going to let Spike out and then make more coffee. That was twenty minutes ago. She’s not in the kitchen and the dog’s not answering when I call him. The back door was left wide open.”

  “I’ll check upstairs. Lock the bloody door, Charles.”

  “We’ve got trouble, mates. It looks like something just breached the front gate. It’s heading toward the shed where the generator is.” Will tossed Charles a weapon. “Take this. I want you to cover me. The hedge along the front should shield you.”

  “I’ve never fired something like this. What the hell is it?”

  “That would be an MP5. And the safety is off. You don’t want to be waving it around.”

  “Good God! I’ve never used an automatic weapon. A hunting rifle, yes, but never something like this.”

  “Who is the better shot? You or Wes? I’m guessing you.”

  “You’re right,” replied Charles. “And we don’t have time to argue.”

  “These are wireless. They’ll allow us to hear one another.” Will handed Charles and I each a small device. I watched him insert his into his ear and did the same.

  “I’ll look for Laura,” I said.

  “No, you find her,” Charles insisted, his expression grave.

  Will pulled his pistol out of the shoulder holster he was wearing and ran to the door. “We’re going to go out the living room window. It’s behind the hedge that runs along the side of the house. We’ll stay low and follow the hedge until we’re across from the shed. No talking. Move fast. Got it?”

  “Yes. Yes, I’ve got it.” Charles followed him into the living room.

  I ran immediately into the kitchen and secured the open door. Then I stood back, behind the shutters and examined the backyard. Nothing. Remembering Charles’s original idea I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

  “It’s the bloody dog,” I heard Charles say.

  I paused in the hallway just outside the upstairs bathroom. The door was closed. I knocked, then twisted the knob. The door was locked.

  “Laura? You in there?”

  The door opened a crack. “I just need to get dressed. I took a quick shower. Hope you don’t mind.”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. I’ve got Laura. She’s fine.”

  “It’s wired,” said Will.

  “It’s what?” asked Charles.

  “Wired,” said Will. “It looks like someone’s strapped explosives to him. Cover me. We’ve got to get to the dog before it gets to the shed.”

  “Jesus!” I gasped. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ll make a run for the shed where the generator is stored,” said Will.

  “Let me get into position over by the wood pile first. From there I can get a better look at Spike and cover you,” said Charles. “Ready?”

  “On three,” replied Will. “One. Two. Three. Go!”

  I held my breath.

  “I’m in position,�
�� said Charles.

  “Wait.” It was Will. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing? It looks like a decoy. That means—”

  “Fuck,” whispered Charles.

  The bathroom door opened again and this time Laura stepped out. “I hope you weren’t worried. I probably should have said—”

  The rest of her sentence was cut off by the sound of an explosion. Then I heard Stanley yell from down the hall.

  Katherine rushed into the hallway. “What the hell was that?”

  “Don’t know.”

  The door to the room where we’d put Stanley opened and he stumbled out. “Where are the others?”

  I gestured to the room next to his. “Jennifer’s in there, Will and Charles—”

  The remainder of my sentence was lost to him. As soon as he heard Jennifer’s name headed straight for her door. I pushed Katherine back inside the room and shoved Laura in after her. “Don’t come out until I tell you to. Lock the door.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t fight me on this. We don’t have time.”

  “I love you,” said Katherine.

  “I love you, too.”

  “Something’s blocking the door. She isn’t answering. Help me!” Stanley called out. He was at Jennifer’s door, covered in scrapes and trying to push it open. He’d been in the room next to hers, the explosion must have woken him.

  I ran down the hall

  I braced my shoulder against it and the two of us pushed. We managed to get the door open about six inches. A bookcase had toppled over and was wedged between the door and the bed.

  “Jennifer?” I shouted out. “Are you all right?”

  I could see her upper body. She was on the floor, surrounded by debris. The outside wall had crashed in; brick, plaster and glass were scattered about.

  “Christ!” gasped Stanley doubling his efforts to open the door. It moved another inch. “Jennifer!”

  She lifted her head and coughed. “I’m all right! I’m all right! Hurry, go, before it’s too late!”

  Stanley and I looked at one another.

  “Charles,” I whispered.

  “Will!”

  We raced down the stairs and into the library. Stanley quickly unlocked one of the many cases that he’d brought and started to assemble a weapon.

  I didn’t wait for him to finish. I grabbed the only weapon other than my fists that I knew with confidence I could use, the set of Hibben throwing knives that my father had bought me for my thirteenth birthday. I ran back through the entry and down the hall, Stanley trailing not too far behind.

  “Wes, wait!” he called out.

  Only I didn’t wait. I ran through the kitchen and out the back door. It was stupid, I know. But they were out there because of me. It was all happening because of me.

  As I rounded the corner of the house I caught sight of Charles. He was lying on the ground, on his back, seizing. Will was by his side, shirtless. His leg was obviously broken. Bone was visibly sticking out through the torn fabric of his dark trousers. He was drenched in blood, some of it his own.

  “Charles! Shit!”

  “I’m sorry, Wesley,” he choked out, blood bubbling out of his mouth. “I’m not going to make it.”

  “You’re going to make it!” said Will.

  I pulled my shirt off and placed it on top of Will’s soaked one. Charles was bleeding out, fast. I took over applying pressure.

  “There’s nothing you can do for me. Go!”

  “I’m not leaving you,” I told him. Tears burned my eyes.

  “They’re vulnerable. Go.”

  I looked down at his now-saturated shirt, my hands covered in blood. “Stanley?” I called, for the first time realizing that he hadn’t followed me out into the yard.

  “Go,” whispered Charles.

  “I’ll stay with him,” offered Will. “You’ve got to protect the girls.”

  Of course I did.

  Without another moment’s hesitation I sprinted back toward the house, retracing my steps. I flew through the door. As soon as I crossed the threshold into the kitchen I heard their voices.

  “Damien, you don’t have to do this. Just let me go! You don’t want to do this. You wanted children, Damien. Remember?”

  “Surely you can see that this is for the best. I love you. Trust me, it’s the only way.”

  I slammed my shoulder against the door that led from the kitchen to the hallway. It wouldn’t budge. Something was blocking it.

  “You don’t love me. You’re not even Damien, not anymore, you’re something else. You’ve given up, given in!”

  “You think I haven’t tried not to?”

  I heard it then, the unmistakable sound of flesh striking against flesh. “Try harder,” said Katherine. “Why are you doing this?”

  I kicked at the door. Once.

  “Because you ruined my fun!”

  Twice.

  “Because you had the unmitigated gall to get in my way!”

  Three times.

  “Because you have to pay.”

  It was no use.

  “There has to be a sacrifice. An eye for an eye, Katherine. You took him from me. Now I’m going to take something from you.”

  “No!” I shouted. I had no choice. I had to approach from the front of the house. I took off. My surroundings became a blur, the only thing that was important was that next step, and the one after that. Time stood still as the familiar landscape of my childhood sped by me.

  The front door to the house was open. I could see them through the window as I ran toward it. Damien was dressed in black, his face, neck and hands painted in camouflage. He had Katherine pinned against the wall toward the top of the stairs.

  “Get away from me!” Katherine screamed. She was trying to fend him off. As she reached back to hit him one final time, Damien stepped out of the way. The momentum of the abandoned punch sent her spiraling forward.

  Katherine tumbled down the stairs, rolling, sliding. For a moment I lost sight of her. When I flew through the door she was on the floor, Damien standing over her. I came to a full stop just inside the entry.

  “You can feel it, can’t you? Death is close now, for both you and the little one. Is it like you thought it was going to be? It can be easier. Stop fighting the inevitable.”

  I took a deep breath, let it out, and adjusted my stance so that my weight rested on the ball of my back foot.

  “This isn’t over,” spat Katherine.

  I swung my knife hand back behind my head, judging the distance, knowing that the release would have to be flawlessly timed and balanced. There would be no second chance. There was only this. Now.

  Damien laughed. “Look at you, you can hardly breathe. You’ve got nothing Katherine! It’s over.”

  “You’re wrong. She’s got me!”

  I swung my arm forward, my weight shifting to rest on my front foot. My focus narrowed until all I saw was the target. When the tip of the blade was exactly in line I let go, releasing the knife with practiced ease.

  I’d expertly judged the distance. My selection of grip and stance combined with the force and control of the follow through had the knife spinning through the air, blade over hilt. The rotation and forward motion were perfectly timed.

  At the sound of my voice, Damien turned and the tip of the knife embedded into the soft tissue of his neck, nicking his jugular. Clumsily, Damien grasped at the knife, pulling it out. Blood rushed out, suddenly it seemed everywhere.

  I had to resist the urge to run to his aid, to help him. Was it even him? I didn’t know. Damien took one unsteady step toward me, then his legs buckled beneath him. He stumbled, slipping in a pool of his own blood, tripping over Katherine’s legs and then finally, finally falling unconscious onto the floor.

  I ran to Katherine, gathering her up into my arms. “It’s going to be okay, love.”

  “No, it’s not.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She was so pale, the pallor of her skin turning a dusky grey. She was having trouble b
reathing. One of her lungs had obviously collapsed. I spied Laura, on the ground at the top of the stairs.

  “Laura! Help me!”

  I watched in horror as Katherine closed her eyes.

  “No! This is not happening!” I jumped to my feet and looked wildly about the room. “Get back here you bloody coward. You want someone? Take me! Take me!”

  “Wesley.” It was the barest of whispers. Katherine was tugging on the bottom of my trousers.

  I dropped to the floor, lifting her head and cradling it in my lap. “Hold on, love. You hear that?” There were sirens in the distance. “That’s help on the way. It’s going to be all right.” Tears clouded my vision as I brushed the hair from her ashen face. “Don’t leave me. Please, Katherine. Don’t leave me. You and the baby, you mean everything to me.”

  A sudden noise drew my attention. It was Jennifer helping Laura down the stairs. Laura was bleeding from a head wound and unsteady on her feet.

  “It’s too late,” said Jennifer.

  “It’s not too late!”

  She stopped, lowering Laura to the ground.

  “It’s over.”

  I followed her gaze. There was a rapidly growing stain of blood pooling around Katherine. She was hemorrhaging. “No. This can’t be real. Please don’t let this be real.”

  The sirens were closer now. Then there was the sound of doors slamming, voices shouting, and approaching footsteps.

  “Wes, you’ve got to give them room to work. There’s not much time,” said Jennifer. She laid her hand on my shoulder and coaxed me back. “It’s what needs to happen. Trust me.”

  And I did. I did trust her. I scooted back until I hit the wall. I felt a strange sense of detachment as I saw the paramedics rush in. Voices started to blend together. Suddenly I was aware that Spike had crawled, whimpering, into my lap, seeking comfort that for the moment I was too numb to provide.

  “Collapsed lung. Get her some oxygen. We’re going to have to insert a chest drain. We’re losing her,” I heard someone say.

  “Blessed be the man that provideth for the sick and needy: the Lord shall deliver him in the time of trouble.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked Jennifer. “What am I supposed to do?”