He narrowed his eyes for a brief second, then ruthlessly grabbed her breast and squeezed until she thought he would rip it off. She bit back a scream, refusing to give him the satisfaction. She met his eyes, determined not to give an inch.
He crushed his lips against hers, using his fangs to tear into the soft flesh. Blood flowed between them, and he sucked it off her lips. After he climaxed, he wasted no time venting his rage.
Still above her, he backhanded her, and she felt her cheekbones crack beneath his assault. Mercifully, she slipped into unconsciousness, thus feeling none of the pain he inflicted on her.
* * * *
Kate woke to a darkness that pressed down on her. She tried to sit up and bumped her forehead against a hard, wooden surface. She quickly realized she was trapped in a coffin, and she screamed in panic. Beaux was using her phobia of tight places against her.
Her vain fight with the unrelenting wood soon had her exhausted. She was weak from lack of blood, and as she sobbed in despair, she wondered how long she'd been out.
A hand slapped down on the lid, and she froze. Unable to control her emotions, she whimpered softly, “Please let me out."
The only answer she got was his soft laughter. As his presence withdrew, her panic gave her strength, and she struggled to escape her prison. She soon fell back against the satin pillow as exhaustion claimed her body but not her mind. She had temporarily reached a level of acceptance.
Once more, she tapped into her imagination as a means of escape. Closing her eyes, she pretended she was floating on a cloud. She cleared her mind of any thought but that cloud. So it came as a complete surprise when her feet touched solid ground. Startled, she whirled around, trying to figure out what was happening.
The smell of blood overpowered the question of how she had escaped her coffin. She stealthily approached the campfire, and her chosen prey rose to his feet without question. He left his fellow hunters with the pretense of relieving himself and quickly rushed to her. She clouded his mind as she sank her teeth into his neck, binding his mortal body to her. He would do her bidding without hesitation.
* * * *
Much as she hated it, Kate forced herself to re-enter her prison. The sun was close to rising, and if her plan was to work, Beaux had to believe he was still in control. She hoped she had accomplished the trick of barricading her thoughts behind a wall. If not, she'd soon find out.
* * * *
When she woke at sunset, she temporarily forgot everything, and panic welled up inside of her. She beat against the lid a few times before memory returned. She forced peace into her soul and found the cloud that helped her escape the coffin.
She looked about her room, wondering how Beaux explained the presence of a coffin to the new cleaning lady. Then she realized he had simply clouded the mortal's mind to prevent her from seeing what it truly was. The poor thing most likely thought it was a coffee table.
She gasped at the sight of the hunter's broken body beside her bed. She hesitated as her eyes focused on the broom handle sticking straight up in the middle of her bed. Cautiously, she approached, disappointed when she saw Beaux was not a pile of ash. He was, however, locked in the vampire sleep.
Hope flooded through her, and she grabbed her purse and keys and took off in her car, headed for nowhere.
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Twenty-six
Kate stared at the huge willow tree that took up most of the home owner's front yard. She had let her instincts guide her and had followed a dirt road for miles to end up at a stranger's. She cut off the engine, got out of the car, and hurried across the yard to the front porch.
As soon as she stepped on the wood, the front door opened of its own accord. No one blocked her path, but a force pushed against her, effectively keeping her out. Looking in, she saw a white haired woman kneeling beside a couch.
The lady stiffened and slowly rose to her feet. Almost regally, she faced her, and Kate's eyes widened in shock. She hadn't expected the face to be young and pretty. Equally disturbing were the woman's eyes. The pupils were iridescent white, outlined with a faint ring of black. Kate shifted her focus to the figure on the couch and nearly took off in a dead run.
"Wait,” the lady commanded, holding her hand up. “Pyre cannot harm you or anyone else anymore."
Kate had backed out into the yard. She bit her lip as a sudden pang lurched through her chest. An image of her last meeting with Pyre flashed in her head, and she recalled her last look at Vincent as he fell into the sleep. He had looked innocent and sexy at the same time. She shook her head to clear it.
"Yeah, right,” she mumbled. She turned on her heel, intent on jumping in the car, but the woman's words stopped her cold.
"I can help you free Vincent."
It was Kate's turn to stiffen, and she warily faced the lady. She narrowed her eyes and closed the distance between them within an eighth of a second. The vampire in her rose, and she snarled, revealing fangs.
"Don't play with me."
Unruffled, the lady replied calmly, “I'm not."
As she studied the mortal before her, Kate noticed a smell about her that other humans lacked. The lady's essence was laced with magic, some dark but most white, and she wondered what the witch had to gain.
The lady held her hand over the threshold. “Welcome to my home, Kate."
Cautiously, Kate shook her hand. She tried to furtively read the witch's mind and received a stabbing pain in her skull. She sank against the doorframe, holding her head in her hands. When the throbbing ceased, she looked accusingly at the witch.
"Hiding something?"
"Next time, knock first. I'm wise to your abilities and must protect myself."
"Who are you?"
"Name's Bianca, but I'm often referred to as the witch of the white weeping willow."
Kate entered the home and eyed Pyre's restless but still sleeping form. “What's wrong with him? Why is he not awake?"
"He has ... some demons he's purging. He won't bother us."
Bianca shut the door and ushered Kate into another room that was decorated in white and purple. There were two chairs and a round table. Along the wall and in front of a small window was a small, lavender love seat. Bianca sat on one side of the table and gestured for Kate to sit opposite her.
Clasping her hands together, she rested her chin on them and looked at Kate with solemn eyes. “So, how did you escape from your captor?"
Kate took a breath of air before replying. “Let's just say that I discovered some hidden talents.” Tears filled her soft brown eyes. “I don't have much time. I have to find Vincent before Beaux finds me. Please hurry."
"Beaux cannot enter my home,” Bianca stated. “He's not welcome here. So you're safe as long as you don't leave. But that also means that you will be trapped when he comes."
Kate wearily looked down at her lap. “Hopefully I won't be here."
Bianca shuffled a deck of tarot cards. “I want to do a reading first. It won't take long, and it'll help us focus our thoughts."
Spreading the cards in front of her, Bianca looked into Kate's eyes. “What's your question, Kate?"
"Where's Vincent's soul?"
Bianca nodded her approval. “Good. Each time you pick a card, remember that question. Now, make a choice."
With trembling hands, Kate placed her finger on a card and pulled it from the neat little row, repeating the question to herself as she did. Bianca turned the card face up and placed it in the center of the table. On the card was a man holding a sword and a white falcon.
"The King of Swords,” Bianca instructed. “This is who we are looking for: a man that is powerful, strong, and sharp-witted. This is Vincent."
She indicated for Kate to draw another. The second card was placed sideways on top of the first. On this was a man on a mountaintop juggling six balls.
"The Six of Pentacles. This card represents the influence behind the question. This is who took Vincent away from you. This is Beaux,
a jealous spirit."
Card number three was put below the first two. On it was a man with crossed arms and a bull on a cliff behind him. “This is the background. Everyone involved is determined to get their way: you, Vincent, Beaux. All three of you are equally stubborn and persistent in resolving this situation."
Kate made no response but silently agreed with Bianca. She knew that she was bound and determined that Beaux wasn't going to win. She also knew Beaux thought he would.
The fourth card was placed along the left side of the first two cards. A woman sat on a man's lap beside a lake. Bianca explained. “This card, the Three of Cups, represents any influences that occurred just prior to this reading. Your emotions were highly confused, and you were anxious."
"Tell me something I don't know,” she mumbled sarcastically.
The next card represented the present, which involved Kate's psychological and physical makeup of the here and now. The card drawn was of the devil oppressing his prisoners, and she immediately referenced the devil as Beaux. It stunned her at how close to home the cards were striking. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and when one actually escaped, she couldn't hold them back any longer. The stress of the past few weeks finally sent her into a crying fit.
Bianca rushed to Kate's side and placed her arms around Kate in an effort to comfort her. The smell of Bianca's blood brought Kate back to her senses, and she gently pushed her away. Sniffing, she said, “I'm fine now. Please. Let's continue."
A little awkwardly, Bianca sat back down in her chair. “The rest of the reading involves the future. The past cannot be changed. You must remember that no matter what these cards tell us, the future is not set. It can be changed."
Wiping the tears away with a tissue, Kate nodded. “Believe me, I understand that all too well."
The sixth card spoke of the near future and what would appear in Kate's reality at any time. Bianca placed the card to the right of the first two cards. The picture on it was of the world burning and a person sinking into the flames, the Ten of Wands card.
Bianca was quiet as she gathered her thoughts together. Then she said, “This means you will have many difficulties on your quest. It won't be easy to reach Vincent."
Kate rolled her eyes. “Duh."
Bianca allowed her to choose the next card before telling its meaning. She held the card face down and said, “This represents your attitude toward Vincent."
Kate held her breath as she placed the card face up on the table. The face of the card had a queen on it and was in fact called the Queen of Wands. “Your will to find Vincent is very strong, but you must force yourself not to be too impatient. Haste makes waste and could cost you your soul."
The eighth card was the Queen of Swords, who looked very mature and astute. This one denoted the voices of the people, whether friend or foe, who were involved with this situation. She sat back in her chair in reflection. Kent was dead. Vincent was lost, and Beaux was definitely her enemy. According to Bianca, this card could mean anything from a conscious and perceptive person to a cruel, cunning one.
Then it dawned on Kate, and she smiled at Bianca. “You."
The white witch solemnly nodded and mumbled, “Possibly."
She continued with the reading. “The ninth card is a detached view and sees the issue from a higher and objective perspective."
The card Kate picked was of a hermit living in the mountains, and there was a lantern emanating light at his feet. “There are many meanings to this card. This is someone who is wise and clever. This being lives in seclusion."
Kate's mind drew a blank. She knew of no such person. She looked to Bianca for guidance. “Sometimes, only time will bring light to the cards you draw."
Her heart hammered as they reached the last card that would tell of the outcome. She drew a card entitled The World in which four symbolical beings surround the world as it spun.
"Take heart,” whispered Bianca. “It could mean success. On the other hand, it could mean losing yourself to worldly obsessions."
"You mean, it's possible I might be under Beaux's power forever."
Kate silently contemplated the reading. In her opinion, they had gotten nowhere as far as any actual clues as to where Vincent's spirit was. On the other hand, it had lent some insightful light on her problems. Kate crossed her arms and looked expectantly at Bianca.
"Now what?” she asked.
"Time for the dangerous stuff."
Bianca turned off the soft lamp and lighted various candles around the room. She then cleared the cards from the table. Grabbing Kate's hands in hers, she asked, “I don't suppose you have anything that belonged to Vincent?"
Kate shook her head. “Sorry."
"No? Then this calling will rely mostly on you. Your powers, whether you realize it or not, are much greater than mine, Kate. The best thing I can tell you is to concentrate on his love. You must also be aware that Beaux will hear our call. So be prepared for the worst."
The room became eerily quiet as Bianca began to chant her magical incantations. Kate closed her eyes, concentrating on thoughts of Vincent. She kept her mind open, as she had when seeking out the gypsy.
Vincent, where are you? Help me find your lost soul.
The sound of breaking glass caused Kate's eyes to fly open and meet Bianca's in surprised astonishment. Then she felt a dull thud against the side of her head. There was a pop of brilliant white light, not unlike a camera's flash, and then there was darkness.
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Twenty-seven
Kate found herself surrounded by a deep white fog and couldn't see past her nose. She didn't dare move as she had no idea where she was.
She waited patiently and listened to the eerie sounds around her. Crickets hummed, and frogs croaked. The wind whispered through nearby trees. She could feel the dampness in the air and shivered. Goose bumps rose on her skin, and she rubbed her arms in an effort to bring back warmth.
Then, almost magically, the mist began to clear, and the moon softly illuminated the earth once more. Kate found herself on the edge of a swamp. The fog slowly retreated, leaving only a thin layer of itself to hover over the murky water.
She knew this place, had walked it in her dreams with her love. She recalled how the cypress trees with their limbs full of moss had always enchanted her. They were beautiful and romantic in a lonely sort of way. They seemed almost sad as they watched the swamp life that crawled and swam around them and hid their faces with moss.
She focused on one very huge cypress tree that sat alone in the middle of the lake before her. It was to this particular one that she found herself propelled to. She took to the air and crossed over the water.
Within seconds, she hovered in front of the tree, being careful not to allow her feet to get wet. She had no fear of alligators, but she was in no rush to experiment with her immortality at this moment in time.
Kate laid her hands on the tree and actually heard it sigh. The bark beneath her fingers felt alive with the spirit entombed therein. Most cypresses have a hollow center, and this one was no exception. Peering into its dark hole, she searched for the soul who inhabited this swamp tree.
The face of the soul that Kate loved most peered back at her with such sadness that she wanted to weep for eternity. It was indeed Vincent who was trapped in the tree.
She could not enter. He could not escape. His face was filled with mixed emotions: love, despair, even hate. In an instant, he let Kate know that Beaux visited him often, just for the sheer pleasure of torturing him.
Tears slid down her face. “What did he say to you, my love?"
"That you were now his, body and soul. That you loved him. That you whored for him."
She bowed her head and wept. “No, he raped me."
She could feel the rage in Vincent rising to the surface. Though he was of spirit and not flesh, his male pride still controlled him. That another man touched what was once his was unthinkable. His cry of sorrow echoed throughout the swamp,
and all life froze in fear of it.
"Forgive me,” she cried in anguish. “I fought him until I had no more strength left to fight."
His eyes were filled with indescribable pain. “I know it's not your fault, Katherine. You misinterpret my anger."
They stared quietly at each other, drinking in the nearness of their souls. “Do you love me still, Kate?"
"Always and forever."
"You escaped,” Vincent whispered.
"By realizing that I had powers."
She leaned her forehead against the cypress bark. Her heart ached for him. “Are we to be doomed forever?"
Sadly, he shook his head. “I pray not."
Suddenly, a familiar voice called Kate's name. She turned around and instantly found herself back in Bianca's room. Anxiously, she spun around, looking for Vincent and the swamp.
"No,” she moaned. “I wasn't ready."
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Twenty-eight
Kate took the cup of fresh warm blood from Bianca, who merely smiled at her curious stare. The witch sat beside her on the love seat. She crossed her legs and pursed her lips in thought.
"You should rest for the remainder of the night,” she advised.
"No,” Kate protested. “I know where he is. We have to go to him now."
She sighed through her nose in aggravation. “Okay. Rush off if you must. I won't stop you. Just remember—"
"Haste makes waste,” Kate finished with despondency.
"Exactly. We have to plan our course of action. There are steps to be followed, especially in the world of magic.” Bianca pointed at the cup. “Drink it. All of it."
Kate looked at the warm mug in her hands, remembering the tainted one Vincent had drunk. “I sure hope this isn't poisoned."
"No, it's not,” Bianca admonished lightly. “But you will find it has a bit of a kick about it."
She sniffed it and narrowed her eyes. “This is your blood."
"So? Look, I promise it'll do nothing but nourish you ... with maybe that little kick I was telling you about."
"What kind of kick?"
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