by ML Guida
She gathered her bag and headed to the door.
Boom-boom-boombooom
Her heart was so loud she was sure Dubois would hear.
She forced herself to move, ignoring the fear creeping up her yellow spine. If anyone was watching, there would be no way she could outrun them. Escape would be impossible.
She pulled on her shrill will and tilted her chin. She wasn’t going to stay in this spider-and-roach-infested place, either. Hiding was for cowards. She might be many things, but a coward wasn’t one. She’d face her own destiny.
The metal gate creaked. Violet’s stomach tightened. She strained to hear any footsteps, but only the birds and insects went about their business—tweeting and humming. She wanted to scream for them to cease. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and slammed her back against it. Her heart beat faster than the busy bees.
There was no movement in the outlining trees or behind headstones or mausoleums.
Go, just go.
Violet stepped out of the shadow of the mausoleum and winced. Sunlight slapped her in the face. White dots twirled around her eyes—the grass and weeds, grave markers and sky moving faster and faster. Determined not to faint, she took a step but tripped. She fell forward, landing all fours, and pain shot up her arm into her shoulder. Nausea swirled in her gut. She swallowed, but her parched throat closed. If she’d stayed here, they’d find her.
Fighting the lightheadedness, she forced herself to move toward the gate. The sun beat down on her. Her clothes stuck to her hot skin. Not far from the graveyard was a stream and a waterfall. Behind the waterfall was a cave. If she could only get there…
Sweat blinded her vision, but she kept moving––one step at a time. She slipped behind a mausoleum and slid down the stone wall. Shade covered her, chilling her clammy skin.
FLSSH FLSSH FLSSH
She wiped her forehead and licked her dry and cracked lips, listening to the water splattering nearby.
The steady rhythm reminded her of Amadi’s smoothing voice. Thinking of being in his strong arms again, she closed her eyes for a few minutes…
A loud pop woke her. The sun had moved. What was that? God, how long had she’d been sitting here?
More pops shook the air. Her heart stopped. Birds stopped singing. The faint hint of gunpowder permeated her hiding place. Gun shots. She had to move. It could be a hunting party. She couldn’t tell how close it was. Her mind was too fuddled.
Move.
She managed to move her creaky body. Her hair plastered against her neck. She licked her parched lips. She stumbled against the gate. Finally, she was here. She put her hand on the bars and pushed, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked. Cripes! Now, what the hell was she going to do?
Tears threatened to fall, but she rubbed her eyes. No, she wasn’t going to cry. She shielded her eyes. Nearby, an avocado tree grew next to the wall. Wavering back and forth as if she were drunk, she snatched some fallen fruit off the ground. She peeled the avocado open and ate the soft, smooth flesh. It was overripe and bruised, but she didn’t care. Her swirling stomach eased at having something to gnaw on.
Strength fired through her. She stuffed more avocados into her bag then stood. Her legs were less shaky, and the lightheadedness had lessened. She wiped her messy hands on her dress then hiked it up to her knocking knees as she put a foot on the bark of the tree.
Careful not to pull the stitches, she inched up the tree. Thanks to her throbbing shoulder, the going was slow. She panted hard, her breath harsh. Branches scratched her skin and tore her dress, but she didn’t stop.
Blood thumped between her temples. Half way up, she stopped to catch her breath. Fuzziness fumbled her mind, and she gripped a branch hard to steady herself. She inhaled and exhaled until the black dots faded. An ocean breeze washed over her, cooling her sweltering skin.
A thick branch hung over the wall. She could do this. Carefully, she edged out onto the limb. She prayed it would hold her weight. Snap. Her blood froze. The branch swayed and dipped. Lord, couldn’t anything go her way?
You can do this.
Biting her lip, she stared at the wall. It was wide enough for her to stand on. Or at least she hoped so.
She twisted around until her legs dangled. She stretched, and her feet tapped onto the stone. She released her grip on the branch.
Suddenly, it broke. She landed on the wall, but she dipped forward, then backward, spinning her arms around and around to gain her balance. “No!”
But she fell backward and yelled. Pain twisted into her back and left wrist. She couldn’t move.
Breathe, just breathe.
Tears welled in her eyes, and her stomping heart sent blood roaring in her ears.
Gunshots blasted. Hounds bayed.
Damn it! Do something. Pushing back the agony to the furthest corner of her mind, she rolled onto her side and dragged herself to her feet.
Get to the spring.
Something trampled on leaves. She grabbed a stick to beat her attackers. Useless, but ’twas all she had.
A wart hog bolted from the trees, squealing. Dogs barked. Hunters had to be following it. She ran as fast her feeble legs would move.
The hog whipped past her. Damn!
Horses trampled through the forest, stomping and snorting.
“Through those trees!” a man yelled. “Find the beast!”
More barks and growls followed.
Violet dove into a thick bush of jungle flowers and huddled underneath the branches, mindless of the scrapes and scratches. Bloodhounds raced and sniffed around the bush. She held her breath and brought her knees to her chest.
Horses trotted around the bush.
“Find something, boys!”
Violet recognized the drawl voice. It was Owen Shield.
A squeal ahead of her sent the hounds baying. Violet couldn’t move. She could see the legs of horses moving around her. Why weren’t they following the dogs?
He reached down and tore something from the bush. Material from her tattered dress.
“I think Celeste D’Aubigne’s little indentured servant went this way. She must not have gotten far.”
Violet bit her lip. Fear prickled down the back of her scalp. He’d turn her over to Dubois. She closed her eyes and turned her head, too afraid to stare into Owen Shield’s triumphant green eyes.
Chapter 14
“Celeste is madder than a hornet with her prized buck. Will see how he likes being pinned down butt naked on an ant hill.”
Violet’s stomach recoiled and bitterness burned the back of her thick throat. Celeste called it her honey torture. She’d pour honey over the man who was strapped to a hill. Red ants would crawl over him, biting him. Harden men would cry out. Celeste would sit in her favorite lounge chair, drinking sweet tea. Violet shook as she wiped a stray tear. Damn her!
“Keep your eyes open, boys. Celeste is offering a fine reward.” He chuckled. “I’ll wager we could make Dubois pay, since Celeste is going to allow him to punish her.”
His callous laughter turned her stomach. They all knew what Dubois had in mind for her, yet none of them had the tiniest inkling to help her. This place was colder than a wintry day in London. She missed the busy streets, the smells of the bakeries, crowded markets. It was home. Here, she was nothing, but property. She hoped Thomas ended up in the Thames River for selling her to Celeste. The bastard!
Celeste had paid Thomas handsomely for her, after learning of Violet’s unfortunate “gift.” Celeste told her she could earn her freedom, but she was a damned liar.
The horses slowly trotted away. Violet was too terrified to move and curled up under the bush. She nibbled on some more avocados to fill her growling tummy. The waterfall would have to wait until dark. There was no way she’d make it there without being seen. She wished Amadi was here. She felt safer with him.
Slow clomps stole her breath away. A horse lumbered up to the bush. Owen came back. Had he discovered her hiding place?
Violet tr
ied to control her gnawing fear as she fumbled to pick up a rock. She clutched the rock tight, ready to fight for her life. If Owen stuck his ferret face inside the bush, she would smash it. This scared rabbit had teeth.
Reins fell onto the ground as the horse bent over to munch on the grass. She waited for a long pair of legs to hop off the horse, then for a pair of shiny black boots to step closer to the bush. The air grew thin. She tried not to breathe, but she sucked in air hard.
She strained to hear the slightest noise, but only zooming bees rang in her ears.
She edged closer to the branches to study the horse and rider. An English saddle was strapped to the horse, but there was no rider. Where was Owen? He wasn’t stupid. He was cunning. Was this another one of his elaborate traps? The bastard had a second sense in hunting down runaway slaves.
He and his men could be lurking in the nearby trees, watching, waiting. Her heart pounded harder and harder, sending blood rushing through her. Fear swept through her like a roaring river.
Dusk had fallen. Vines and moss clung to the thick trees. Ferns and flowers hugged their trunks. She couldn’t tell if men hid in the dark forest that gave them an advantage.
She wanted to grab the horse’s reins and climb up onto the saddle. But she couldn’t risk it. The horse twitched its ears and lazily nibbled. It was a mare, smaller than the stallions. The mare’s long white tail flicked at buzzing insects, and as she leisurely chewed on the grass, she moved farther and farther away.
Violet didn’t know if she could make it to the falls with her throbbing shoulder and wrist, but the little mare could bring her there, then she could set it free. Back in London, she’d never learned how to ride a horse. Horses had frightened her. They were so big and powerful. But Celeste liked to ride around the plantation and insisted Violet come with her. She always claimed she needed Violet to tell if her slaves or men were lying.
Another lie.
Celeste knew of her fear of horses and it gave her pleasure to watch the terror in Violet when she first learned to ride. Violet smiled. She’d bested her. She became an accomplished rider, something Celeste hadn’t counted on.
She hugged her knees tighter.
And waited and waited and waited.
Pain throbbed in her wrist and shoulder. Her parched throat was like a dry riverbed thirsting for the tiniest drop of water. Her stomach growled. She needed more to eat than avocados. If she didn’t move, she’d pass out inside the bush.
Hoping her pursuers had grown tired of their perch, she clutched the rock and crawled out of the bush on her belly. She stopped and listened each time she moved. She headed for the mare, who still enjoyed her sweet grass.
Violet slowly stood next to the horse, her senses on full alert. She was a doe, trying to outrun hunters.
Nothing moved.
She couldn’t hold her rock and get on the horse. Cursing softly, she dropped it. Her left wrist was useless. Ignoring the pain, she grabbed the saddle with her left hand and stuck her foot into the stirrup. With the last ounce of energy, she threw her leg across the saddle. The mare was smaller than most horses. If she had been one of the larger stallions, she’d never have been able to haul herself up.
She panted, trying to ignore the dizziness swirling around her. Wind blew the palms and trees, chilling her skin. She brushed her hair out of her eyes as she fumbled for the reins. She bumped her heels against the mare’s side and steered her toward the falls.
She leaned forward on the horse as it tromped through the ferns and grass. The smell of water penetrated the air, the deeper the horse trotted into the jungle. Leaves and branches brushed against Violet’s skin. She swayed on the horse, gripping its mane to keep from crashing onto the jungle floor. The insects buzzed louder. Her shoulder and wrist throbbed. God, how could she help Amadi in her present state? If only she was a vampire…Wait. Amadi was a vampire, and he was a prisoner.
As the mare pushed through trees, the sound of water splashing and rumbling grew louder. She licked her dry cracked lips. The falls were so close.
She’d be able to drink and rest for a while. If only she could think of a way to hide the little mare. She’d need her to get to Amadi. If she could get to him before dawn, maybe she could rescue him, but she was in no state to get to him without drinking water.
The dense branches parted. A full moon cast a white glowing light on the water cascading down the rocks into the pool. Her eyes widened, and it was as if someone had cranked up her heartbeat.
Bambambambambambam
The sound thumped in her ears, her throat, and her chest.
She and the mare weren’t alone.
A huge blue and green dragon drank from the pool. Its wings were close to its side, and its tail curled around the hind legs. She was hallucinating.
There were no such things as dragons. There were no such things as dragons. There were no such things as dragons.
Another lie.
The beast lifted its head. Glowing gold eyes narrowed. Black smoke puffed out of its long snout. She couldn’t move. Cold fear turned into hot burning coals that melted her gut then shoot through her trembling body. She tried to scream, but only a puff of air escaped her frozen lips.
The dragon flapped its massive wings. Violet gripped the reins tight, but the little mare whinnied and bucked. She lost her grip and fell off. Her head hit something hard. Blinding pain slammed into the back of her head, stealing her breath, and darkness swirled around her. The last thing she remembered was a pair of glaring golden eyes peering down at her.
Chapter 15
The Maîtresse strolled over to Amadi. Her hair was piled high into a bun, emphasizing her green cat eyes. She flicked her gaze over him then grabbed his cheek, digging her nails into his flesh. “For your insolence, you’ll work in the sugarcane fields. But tonight, you’re mine.”
Her citric perfume gagged him. He bared his teeth. “I’d rather work in the fields than be alone with you.”
“Still fighting me.” She licked his cheek, then released him.
He gritted his teeth, wishing he could slap her. But he couldn’t move, not with his numbing hands bound behind him and leg irons clasped around his throbbing ankles.
She released a haughty laugh. “Take him away.”
Dubois led him away. “Today, you’re going to wish you’d never been born.” He chuckled, snapping his whip.
Amadi held his head high. He was a proud man, a free man. He wouldn’t let Dubois or Celeste break his spirit. Once a man’s spirit broke, he stopped fighting to be free. Something Amadi would never do. Freedom was worth dying for.
The other slaves rode in the cart to the fields, but Dubois made Amadi walk. The dumb bastard. Amadi preferred to walk, even in shackles, rather than be crowded into a cart with the other men. He liked the sun on his face and back.
Dubois rode his horse behind Amadi. He flicked the whip, nicking Amadi’s shoulder. “Run.”
Amadi wouldn’t be able to run, but arguing with a cold-hearted bastard was useless. He broke out in a run, only to trip over a rock and land on his face.
Dubois laughed as he lashed Amadi across the back. “Clumsy dolt. Now get up.”
This was only the beginning of Dubois’s cruelty. Every time Amadi slowed pulling the weeds or stilled the cold last would rip into his skin. ’Twasn’t even mid-day, and Amadi’s back was in agony. But he never complained.
He clamped his jaw tight as he cut down the stalks and piled them high. He wanted to take the machete and slit Dubois’s throat, but another man followed Amadi, a pistol trained on him. With the damn leg irons, he could only shuffle.
The sun beat down on him, drenching him with hot sweat. He could feel it burning his skin and knew tonight he’d be in pain.
A woman came with a bucket of water and dipped a ladle, scooping clear, fresh water. Amadi licked his dry, cracked, lips and reached to take a drink to satisfy his parched throat, but Dubois rode his horse in between them.
Dubois grinned. �
�Not you. Get back to work. You’ll get no food or water today.”
Amadi clenched his fists, but he went back to work, refusing to beg for mercy.
That night, Amadi was back in the damn dungeon. He yanked on his chains and winced. His sunburned skin and lashed back screamed in agony. Breathing hard, he stood still, trying to get used to the pain. So far, Celeste had not made her presence known, but if she was anything like her foul brother, this absence wouldn’t last forever. She’d definitely torture and humiliate him tonight. How could a woman be so evil?
He thought Natasa had been the most evil woman he’d ever met, but she’d been a demon. Demons were supposed to be wicked.
He leaned against the cold wall. Was Violet all right? He hoped Dubois hadn't found where he’d hidden her. He didn't want her to be punished, to be locked in this foul place or have something worse happen to her. She’d said Celeste would punish her or kill her. His heart would break if one hair were damaged.
He ran his hand through his braids. The chains rattled, reminding him he was a piece of property. He'd rather be aboard the Fiery Damsel.
Stay away from here, Violet.
The door creaked. Light flooded down the stairwell.
He stood straight.
A faint sniffling caught his attention. Celeste was crying? Why? He didn’t think the woman felt bad about anything she did.
She stood in the shadows, but she wasn’t alone. His heart withered and died. It wasn’t Celeste.
’Twas little Chloe. Her brown eyes were filled with tears and her lower lip trembled. But what turned his blood to stone was the welt on her cheek.
“Hello, beau.” Celeste’s cruel voice hardened his soul.
He glared. “What da hell did you do to her?”
She shrugged. “Obviously, I beat her.”
