Abandoned to the Night (The Brotherhood Series, Book 3)

by Adele Clee

  But which one?

  “Before I leave, may I use some paper and your ink pot?”

  Herr Bruhn nodded. “Of course, of course. Come this way.”

  Ivana followed him to a room that had once been the man’s study, a place to relax, to enjoy the solitude. Now, it served a multitude of functions: playroom, schoolroom, a place to dry wet boots.

  “Over here.” Herr Bruhn rushed to the desk, set about clearing away letters, books, brushed the dust away with his sleeve. “You’ll find paper in the drawer and ink in the pot. Use what you will.” Offering a bow, he shuffled backwards. “I shall leave you in peace.”

  Ivana needed but a minute to complete her task. Blowing on the scrawled note, she went in search of Herr Bruhn.

  “In case there should be any doubt,” she said handing him the paper.

  He scanned it quickly, glanced up at her and then read it again.

  “It is proof of the provisions I have made for the children. Should Sylvester not call tomorrow with the funds you need, you are to seek him out and present this letter to him.”

  The man stared at her, a frown marring his brow. “You are starting to make me nervous. Are you sure you are not ill? Are you leaving, going away somewhere?”

  Ivana placed her hand on the man’s arm. “No. I am not ill and you know I would never leave the children.” She gave a light chuckle to ease his fears. “With the storm, the roads are treacherous. One never knows their fate. My only concern is to know that you have everything you need.”

  Herr Bruhn appeared mildly satisfied with her explanation.

  “Now,” she continued, wrapping her cape firmly across her chest. “I must be on my way.”

  The old man walked her to the door. “Sylvester is waiting for you?” he asked, his tone revealing his concern.

  “He is.” Herr Bruhn knew she liked to walk for a few minutes, and that she rarely brought the carriage into the village. When one lived for the night, one took every opportunity to feel free, to feel normal. “He will be waiting in his usual place.”

  She doubted she would get far before the hunter struck. There was no point putting off the inevitable. She had always known the day would come. Indeed, she had expected one of them to come much sooner. The passing years had given her a false sense of security, but she would soon know of his intention.

  As soon as Herr Bruhn opened the door, the wind came rushing in, blowing her hair about her face, causing her to wince as she stepped over the threshold. “Quickly, shut the door behind me.” She sounded breathless, perhaps even a little fearful. The stubborn man refused to listen, holding the door a foot away from the jamb. “Please, Herr Bruhn.” She did not want him to witness her demise. “I cannot leave here until I know you’re safely inside.”

  Herr Bruhn nodded. “Hurry home,” he said as he closed the door. “Be safe.”

  Ivana contemplated raising her hood as the wind whistled about her ears, biting at her cheeks until they stung. The rain had stopped momentarily, but the thunder still grumbled and groaned in the distance.

  I know you’re there.

  She sent her silent message as she continued down the deserted road. Ivana felt him walking behind her before she heard the sound of footsteps, before the sudden rush of emotion filled her chest. The hunter was in pain. A deep level of anguish permeated his thoughts. He felt lost and alone — had masked it all with anger and resentment.

  Guilt flared, and she chastised herself for being so fickle.

  The gentleman had deserved his punishment. The thought gave her the courage to confront her quarry and without any warning, she swung around to face him.

  It was difficult to make him out in the darkness. With every shutter on every window closed, there was an absence of light spilling out onto the street. It didn’t help that he wore a thick black cloak, his face hidden in the depths of the hood.

  “I did wonder which one of you would have the courage to return,” she said with an arrogance she only used with those she despised. With her attention drawn to the blade in his hand, she added, “If you’re going to kill me, at least afford me the courtesy of seeing your face.”

  Don’t let it be him.

  The words raced through her mind as the hunter stepped closer.

  “Courtesy?” He stood just a few feet away. “Were you so generous of spirit when you took our humanity?”

  She could see the sculptured line of his jaw, the full lips that formed the bitter words, just the tip of his nose peeking out of his black shroud. The sense of familiarity was strong. But then their affinity for the night would always bind them together.

  “You will show me your face. You will not refuse me.” She drew on her ability to coax and persuade. He would try to fight it, of course, but would he be strong enough to disobey. Either way, she would not rest until she knew the name of her quarry.

  “Do not think you can control me,” he sneered. “Do you think I will bend so easily to your will?”

  Ivana smiled. No matter how strong, no matter how skilled in mind control, surely she would have an advantage. She had taken his blood, let it mingle with her own, let him suck from her pricked finger. Even if she did possess the strength of will to prevent him from taking her life, was this not the moment she had been waiting for?

  Wasn’t death the thing she had been craving?

  “Lower your hood.” Her icy tone sliced through the volatile air. The wind howled around them, swirling about their clothes, pushing, pushing in a bid to whip them away. “I will see your face.”

  “In this, I will not fight you.” Confidence and arrogance infused his tone. “Perhaps you should know the face of the man come to put an end to your devilish deeds. Perhaps you should look upon the face of the man whose life you have ruined.”

  The hunter tugged at his hood.

  Ivana held her breath.

  No! Not him!

  It took a moment to drink in his features, for her mind to accept the vision standing before her. If God had sought to punish her, he had chosen wisely. Very wisely, indeed.

  Leo!

  His name echoed through her mind, over and over.

  Why him? Her hands were shaking, the pain in her heart unbearable. Why not one of the others?

  “Well?” He gave a disdainful snort. “Do you remember me? Do you recall the night you created a monster?”

  The heavens opened in response; the first few drops of rain suddenly turned into a streaming torrent, saturating them in seconds.

  Neither moved.

  “Of course I remember you.” How could she ever forget? She had thought of him many times. She had broken her own set of rigid rules. Not that he would remember. “Welcome home, Leo.”

  With anger and bitterness etched on his face, he cried, “This place is not my home.”

  “It is the place of your birth, is it not?” she replied calmly. “Your rebirth. You are not the same man who came here three years ago.”

  Her heart lurched when she thought of how slowly time had passed, how long it was since she had last seen his handsome countenance.

  “No! I am not the same man. You destroyed him out of spite or for some other twisted reason.”

  “And I am glad of it,” she yelled. She was starting to let her emotions control her. Wiping away the rivulets running down her face, she exhaled slowly.

  She would not fight him. She could not tell him the truth.

  The time had come.

  He could have what he wanted — a chance to rid himself of the bitterness. A chance for revenge. Pulling the ties on her cape, she let the sodden garment fall to the ground.

  “I am glad it is you who came,” she said remembering the earthy taste of his skin. Holding her arms wide, she glanced up at the heavens and blinked away the droplets. “Forgive me,” she whispered. “But know that everything I did, I did for them.”

  “What are you saying? Is it some sort of spell? Are you rousing your demon army to come slay me where I stand?”


  Ivana ignored his incessant questions.

  “Punish me. Protect them.” A sense of relief pushed to the fore. The rain had come to cleanse her, to wash away her sins. Despite the gravity of her situation, she felt oddly calm. She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I am ready now. Do what you have come to do. Do what you will.”

  Set me free.

  Chapter 3

  Leo stared at the golden-haired devil and had to admit she looked more like a celestial being; one of God’s heavenly angels waiting for the clouds to part so she could be spirited home. Damn it. With her arms stretched wide, her face glistening with a radiant sheen as the raindrops slipped from her skin, her dress clinging to the soft curves of her body, he knew he did not have the strength to carry out the evil task.

  She lowered her head and stared at him. “Why the delay? Do you plan to wait until you see a glimmer of hope flash in my eyes? Is it your intention to torture me?”

  Torture?

  If she believed this to be torture, then the woman had no real concept of the word. Loneliness plagued him. A feeling of utter hopelessness was his constant companion now. The pain lingered. It festered inside with no hope of an end in sight. That was the most brutal punishment of all.

  Leo wiped his hand on his thigh then gripped the handle of his sword with both hands. One mighty swing and he would take her head from her shoulders. Clean. Easy. It would be an act of retribution, a way of restoring the balance. It would be a way of making her pay for all the agonising nights he had spent craving blood. It would be recompense for the nights he had spent glaring longingly at the pulsing vein in a pretty debutante’s neck, knowing he could never truly satisfy the need clawing away inside.

  Justice was all he wanted, for Elliot: his brother and friend. Justice for Alexander and for all those forced to live with the restrictions brought about by the terrifying affliction. And so, with a renewed sense of determination he took a step forward, drew a deep breath and raised the sword.

  The heartless creature before him offered a reassuring smile — a smile of all things — then raised her head to the heavens once more.

  “Bless the children,” she whispered, but he heard the words rebound back and forth in his mind. “In my absence, keep them safe. Protect them always.”

  The children?

  Did she mean the children she had used to deceive him, to cause doubt and uncertainty to take hold? For a moment, he might have believed she cared about something other than her need to steal the souls of mortal men. Why would a woman sent to do the Devil’s work pray for the Lord’s assistance?

  Leo lowered the sword once again. A sudden urge to understand her motives gripped him. “Tell me. Tell me why you turned me into the monster you see before you. Tell me why you sought to rob me of my humanity.”

  The golden-haired temptress glared at him. “Will you not just get it over with. I am tired, cold and soaked to the skin. At the moment, death seems quite a pleasant option, and I have no desire to talk anymore.” Her weary gaze drifted over him. She opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, then said, “But know that you earnt the right to be chosen. Know that you had a part to play in it all.”

  The woman spoke in riddles in an attempt to confuse him. “That explains nothing.” He wanted an answer to the question haunting him. This was to be his only opportunity to make any sense of it. “Why me? I need to know why you chose to me out of all the men passing through here.”

  Not just him. Why had she chosen Elliot and Alexander? Were there more gentlemen wandering the world suffering with the same debilitating affliction?

  She narrowed her gaze, dropped her hands to her side. “You mean you don’t know? You do not remember? Do you not have the faintest suspicion? Have you not come to the obvious conclusion?”

  Leo wiped the water from his face and flicked the excess liquid from his hand. “Would I have asked if I did?”

  “Have you not replayed the events of the night over and over in your mind?” she asked incredulously. “Have you not examined them in the hope of stumbling upon your mistake, your error of judgement?”

  Leo gave a disdainful snort. “I have lived the nightmare over and over again for the last three years. I have dissected every word spoken, every deed and action. But still it makes no sense to me. My mind is like a dark, empty cavern whenever I think of what happened to me that night.”

  She shook her head and cast him a look that spoke of contempt. But another emotion flashed briefly in her eyes: compassion, perhaps pity. “Then I cannot help you. You must kill me, or you must leave here. You do not—”

  “Frau Lockwood. Frau Lockwood.”

  Suddenly her gaze shot beyond his shoulder, and she muttered a curse. “Now look what your dithering has done.”

  His dithering? She made it sound as though she wanted him to put an end to her life.

  “Do not say anything to him,” she continued through gritted teeth. “He has no idea what we are. He would be frightened, confused. He would not understand.”

  Leo glanced behind at the old man tottering along the street, holding a coat above his head to protect him from the rain. “If I abide by your request, what will you do for me in return?”

  Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “You would blackmail me for my desire to protect an elderly man’s feelings? Good Lord, you really are a monster.”

  The words were like barbed arrows piercing his heart. He knew what he was. He did not need the woman responsible for his depraved condition to remind him. Dismissing his irritation, he decided to use the situation to his advantage.

  “Tell me what I want to know about the night you sunk your filthy fangs into my neck and I will keep your secret.” Leo gave a satisfied smirk as it felt good to have the upper hand. “I would hate to reveal the true nature of my affliction. And I doubt his heart would take the shock.”

  She sucked in her cheeks as she glared at him. “Is that the price of a man’s sanity? Do you have no shame?” She shook her head and sighed. “Very well. What choice do I have?”

  “None. But I will have your word.”

  “Then you have it.” She barged past him and rushed towards the old man. “Herr Bruhn, you must go back inside. You’ll catch a chill out here in this dreadful weather.”

  The old man squinted and blinked rapidly. “Is everything alright? You’re soaked through. What has happened to your cape? Why have you not gone home?” He tried to use his coat to shield her from the rain as his concerned gaze fell to Leo’s sword. “What … what is going on here?”

  “All is well, Herr Bruhn.” She put her hand on his back and steered him away. “There is a problem with my carriage. The road is impassable, and I must walk home. This gentleman has been instructed to ensure I reach there safely.”

  The man glanced back over his shoulder. “But who is he? I have never seen him here before.”

  With some difficulty, Leo placed his sword back in the harness. “Herr Bruhn.” He inclined his head to the old man. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know her name. In the years when he had cursed her and wished for her demise, he knew her only as the golden-haired devil. “I have been instructed to protect the lady,” Leo said, struggling to form the only polite word he knew of to describe the woman standing in front of him. “But you must go inside. If we do not leave now, I fear we will struggle to make it back, even on foot.”

  “Herr Bruhn, I cannot afford for you to be ill too,” she implored.

  Leo wondered why she did not use her skill for persuasion to force the man back into his home. Well, if she wouldn’t do it, he would.

  “You must go inside, Herr Bruhn. You must go inside now.” Leo’s tone was firm, commanding and the golden-haired devil shot him an irritated glare.

  “I must get inside,” he said shuffling towards a house on their right. “You are certain you will make it home safely?”

  “I am certain,” she replied. “I need you to be well. I need you to take care of the children. A
nd I need to hurry home and get out of these wet clothes. Sylvester will be along to see you tomorrow.”

  Placated, Herr Bruhn nodded vigorously. They escorted him to his door, bid him good night and then simply stared at each other.

  “Well?” She thrust her hands on her hips as soon as Herr Bruhn closed the door. The wet garment clung to her womanly curves, enhanced the shape of her perfectly round breasts and Leo groaned inwardly.

  “Well, what?” he snapped, being somewhat agitated by his reaction to her shapely figure. Damn it all. He had spent years lusting after women. To some extent his cock possessed a mind of its own, responded to the female form as opposed to the character of the woman within.

  “Are you going to kill me where I stand or are you coming with me?”

  Leo jerked his head back. “Coming with you where?”

  An image of the forest flooded his mind, quickly followed by the dark, suffocating confines of her carriage, and the stone stairs curling up to the demon’s chamber.

  A smile touched the corners of her lips, but it did not reach her eyes or illuminate her face. “I do not like lying to Herr Bruhn. You will escort me home. We will change out of these wet clothes, drink to suppress our hunger. I will tell you what you need to know, and you will decide what you wish to do with me.”

  She was not using manipulation to persuade him to follow her, but as she sauntered past him, he felt a tug deep in his gut that forced him to traipse along behind.

  Christ, if Elliot were here, he would think him fit for Bedlam. Indeed, in the hours he had waited at the window of the tavern in the hope of catching sight of her, he could never have predicted this was how the night would end.

  The tavern!

  “Wait,” he cried, remembering the maid he had instructed to sleep until he told her otherwise. “I’ll be but a minute.” They would find her in his room and believe he had administered poison, or an opiate to drug her into submission.

  She stopped, picked her sodden cape off the ground and shook it out. “My carriage is waiting further along the road. I shall wait for you inside.”