Captive of Darkness (Heart of Darkness Book 1)

by Debbie Cassidy

  She twitched her nose at me in encouragement.

  “We’re almost there, aren’t we?” Despite the burn in my biceps and thighs, I continued, one rung at a time into a darkness that was now lit by a full silver moon above me. A thin mist hung below me.

  What was that? What was that shimmering mass beneath the mist?

  Water?

  A body of water?

  But it was seething, moving, almost as if it was alive. My pulse picked up. What was it? What was that rising to reach for me? A face—mouth open, eyes sewn shut—ripped out of the mist and then was swallowed up again. My heart lurched, and my grip tightened reflexively on the ladder. I stopped, pressing myself up against the cool metal. Oh, God. Oh, God.

  Roxy climbed out of my pocket and up my coat.

  “Roxy, no. Roxy.”

  She scampered up onto my shoulder.

  “Roxy, there’s something down there. Oh, God.”

  A needle of pain shot through my earlobe. I jerked in shock, my grip loosening, boots slipping.

  Roxy had bit me.

  And then I was falling.

  Chapter Four

  Gravity pulled me down into the mist. It wrapped around me, blinding, choking, and suffocating. And then there was a momentary weightlessness. I was suspended, cradled by ethereal arms. I turned my head slowly, with my breath trapped in my lungs, to see a gray hand wrap around my wrist, one finger at a time. The scream locked in my throat exploded from my lips as a shrill shriek, and then I was being pulled down. My scream was muffled by the partially corporeal bodies tearing at my clothes, eager to gain purchase on me. I kicked and thrashed, dislodging fingers and hands. Desperately trying to rise, to be free.

  Drowning. I was drowning in a sea of ethereal bodies. Too many … There were too many. They were too strong.

  Not stronger than the living. Fight. Swim.

  The voice was male, calm and gentle. The panic eased a fraction. Swim. I could swim. I kicked and pawed, using elbows and hands and feet to push up, to push past the silver and gray faces, some unseeing, some without mouths. Others glaring at me with lidless eyes, forever unblinking. I rose past their wiry limbs and sinewy bodies, and then sweet night air rushed into my lungs as my head broke the surface of the horrific sea.

  Look, a boat.

  My dream … This was my dream. I struck out for the vessel bobbing on the surface of this strange silver lake of ghosts. Gripping the side, I kicked out at the hands trying to pull me down and scrambled up into the safety of the boat. Oh, God. Oh, God. How was this possible? How was any of this possible?

  Breathe. Think. Land. I needed to get to land. As soon as the thought filled my mind the boat began to glide through the lake of writhing, seething, hairless, naked bodies. They reached out to the boat, yearning, eager, and hungry, and suddenly I knew what they were, knew that they’d been human once. That they’d been alive.

  This was a lake of souls.

  And before me was something I hadn’t seen in my dreams. A bridge, a glorious shining, golden bridge. It hovered meters above the lake out of reach. The boat veered away from the bridge, keeping parallel to it but not allowing me close. The night sky became dark here and there, the stars were blocked out but black streaks that seemed to fall from a great height down toward the lake. The streaks leveled out before hitting the water. It took a moment or two for my brain to make sense of what I was seeing, and then it was clear. More bridges, but these were inky-black, broken, dead passageways.

  A breeze tickled my skin, drawing my attention away from the many dead bridges to the dark, flat land up ahead. Just beyond the stretch of land, tall silver gates rose up majestically into the night. Yes, I’d seen this before, and Roxy had shown me the way.

  Roxy!

  I checked my pocket for the dormouse.

  Empty.

  The souls churned and rocked. If she was in there, then there was no way I’d find her. Blinking back tears, I took a shuddering breath. I’m sorry, Roxy, so sorry.

  The boat bumped land, and I turned away from the pool of souls and headed into the forest beyond. Finn was out there, and I was going to find him.

  Shafts of moonlight dappled the forest floor, illuminating the black flora: huge flat mushrooms with inky skins and blooming flowers with velvety black petals and crimson cores. The trees alternated between slender and thick, twisted and straight, but their barks were charred black and cracked as if suffering from an internal ailment. My hair clung to my neck and face from the humidity, and a fine sheen of perspiration coated my skin beneath my clothes. The backpack, so light earlier, felt like it was filled with rocks. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t a tracker. I wasn’t a survivalist. I’d found my way here on adrenaline alone, but how the heck would I find the riders?

  The ground was soft but there were no hoofprints. Did that even matter? Did the riders even leave prints? The chain bit into my wrist, and the urge to stop and unwrap it slowed my pace. No. But there was no time to stop, the obsidian forest reeked of danger, of horrors just out of my senses’ reach. I had to keep moving. There had to be more than this. There had to be a reason they took our people, and no, it wasn’t the pool I’d climbed free of. It couldn’t be. I swallowed the lump in my throat along with that possibility, because if that was all, then it was already over.

  My red cloak stuck out like a beacon against the darkness, but I quashed the momentary stab of apprehension. There was nothing I could do about the brightness of my clothes.

  My stomach growled, reminding me that it had been hours since I’d eaten. If I was going to find Finn, then I needed to keep up my strength. The trees were thinning out, and a clearing came into view. A fallen tree provided the perfect spot to stop and rest. A few minutes, that was all.

  Black moss cushioned my butt and the log provided a rest for my back. Just a small hunk of bread would do, a couple of sunflower seeds and three sips of water. My stomach thanked me with a gurgle.

  Okay, time to—

  My hackles rose, and adrenaline flooded my system, leaving me quivering with the need for action. But why? What had my sixth sense picked up on? Eager panting broke the still air behind me, stealing my breath. Soft laughter to my left was followed by a chitter-chatter to my right like the rubbing of a cricket’s back legs magnified tenfold.

  I was no longer alone.

  My fist closed around the chain dangling from my wrist. “Who’s there?” My voice came out strong and sure.

  “Mine,” something panted from beyond the log.

  “Mine,” something chittered from the right.

  “Mine,” something crooned from the left.

  Rank air blasted the side of my face, activating my gag reflex. My bowels twisted, and my lungs froze mid-breath.

  “Live. Fresh. Mine.” The voice came from behind the log.

  It was the thing under the bed, the creature in the shadows, and it was here. My paralyzed limbs burst into action, launching me away from the creature and hauling me up into a defensive position, knees bent, chain gripped tight and dangling, ready to use. But my heart was beating way too fast, leaving me breathless and slightly dizzy. Focus, Wynter, you can do this. Oh, God. Please be able to do this.

  They moved out of the shadows and into the moonlight, and a whimper dripped from my parted lips as my brain struggled to comprehend what I was seeing. To my left stood what would have been a man if not for his reptilian face and skin. His silver eyes gleamed ravenous in the gloom. To my right crouched a shadowy insectile creature, except it would come up to my hip if I allowed it to get closer. Its mandibles quivered, feelers twitching, but its eyes were what almost undid me—human, brown eyes staring right back at me with predatory intent. I backed up a step, and they closed in, but it was the monster perched on the log that drew my attention, loosening my bowels and rattling my insides with a surge of terror.

  He was huge, hunched, and lupine. His mouth was a gaping maw of serrated teeth designed for shredding and tearing, and his eyes, red-rimmed and bri
ght blue, were locked on my throat.

  “I saw her first,” the reptilian one said.

  “No. Me,” insect guy insisted.

  The wolf thing growled and snapped at the two, taking his eyes off me for a split second, long enough for me to take another step back. Long enough to give me the distance for a head start, because there was no doubt in my mind what was about to happen.

  “Fair hunt,” he rasped. “Catch and deliver. Gets the reward. Gets to eat.”

  Oh, God. Oh, shit. For once, it would have been nice to have been wrong.

  He launched himself at me.

  I turned and ran.

  Branches lashed at my face and snagged on my coat, desperate to slow me down, not that it would matter because they were gaining, flanking me. Close, too close, but not attacking.

  And then it hit me—they were playing with me. I burst into a clearing. No, not a clearing, the same clearing, the one we’d started in. How?

  Oh, God. I leapt over the log and burst back into the tree line, back into the dark, lungs screaming for breath, limbs begging for relief, and once again, I found myself in the same clearing. Once again, I scaled the log and dove into the tree line. No more, I couldn’t do this anymore, but the desire to live was stronger than my weak limbs and gasping lungs, because to give up would be to die. To give up would mean to be torn and shredded and consumed. There was no doubt in my mind about that.

  Terror was my spur and then I was back in the clearing again, head spinning with the sound of the monsters’ laughter. My calves ached, unable to make the leap this time. The hesitation cost me my miniscule advantage. A gust of air brushed the top of my head, and then the large shape of the wolf monster slammed into the ground right in front of me. I skidded to a halt, head whipping from side to side. Surrounded. Trapped.

  “Mine.” Reptile man licked his lips.

  “Mine.” Insect thing let out a wet chirrup.

  “Mine.” Wolf man leapt at me.

  Chapter Five

  Paws slammed into my shoulders, taking me down. Warm saliva spattered my face, and then hungry blue eyes and powerful teeth were tearing toward me.

  My scream was a primal bid for survival, the final cry before the endless sleep. And then the wolf man was gone, torn off me by a hurtling shadow. Insides shaking, I scrambled back and attempted to rise. My knees—attached to legs like rubber—buckled, and my butt hit the ground, jarring my spine and snapping my teeth closed over my tongue. Coppery warmth flooded my mouth, bringing tears to my eyes.

  The clearing was suddenly, deathly silent. Insect man and reptile creature were crouched, unmoving, their attention fixed on the tangle of limbs and fur by the log. Growls and snarls filled the air a moment later, followed by a rumble. A whine drifted into the air but was cut off suddenly. The lupine creature thrashed, pinned to the ground, and atop it rose a new contender. Humanoid and naked save for a crude loin cloth to cover his modesty, his muscles rippled beneath his moonlit skin. He straightened slowly, one powerful arm flexing as he gripped the wolf’s throat with long, lean fingers tipped with thick black talons. He arched his back and my gaze snagged on the crude lumps projecting from between his shoulder bones. They wriggled as if with a life of their own, and then he threw back his horned head and let out a sound that was part bellow, part howl. The sound rolled through me, raising gooseflesh and frosting my heart. His shoulder flexed sharply, and blood sprayed his face and chest. The wolf beneath him lay silent and still.

  Reptile guy and insect guy shuffled backward, eager to get away as the monster slowly turned his horned head to pin me with eyes like ember. His face was bloody, and it was impossible to make out his features in the gloom. There was only the flash of even, white teeth and lethal canines as he grinned sadistically.

  “Mine.” His voice was gravel and pain.

  The others backed up some more.

  “For Berstuk,” reptile guy said. “Berstuk’s land, Berstuk’s bounty.”

  Insect guy was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

  The horned guy straightened, and his huge, powerful frame dwarfed reptile guy. “Berstuk wants meat, tell him to hunt.”

  Horned guy strode toward me, and a fresh wave of adrenaline flooded my exhausted system, quaking me, turning me into a trembling mess. My limbs were uncoordinated elastic as I tried to flee, and then I was trapped in his shadow.

  “This one is mine.” His hand fisted my hair and yanked me to my feet.

  A short scream made it past my lips before I clamped them closed, blinking back tears of pain. He forced my head back, looking down into my face with a blood-spattered one of his own. High cheekbones, full lips, aquiline nose, and eyes like fire. Long, dark hair brushed my cheek—his hair, tumbling around the roots of his horns.

  He raked me with that blistering gaze, lip curling slightly in satisfaction, and then he leaned in and licked me. One long stroke from the base of my neck to my temple. A shudder ripped through me, and heat bloomed in places it had no right blooming. What was this? What was he?

  “Mine,” he said again, but this time, his eyes were slits of flame.

  He looked human. Maybe … Maybe he could be reasoned with? “Please …” My voice was a trembling whisper. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  Oh, God. I didn’t want to die. Not now, not like this.

  He laughed, short and sharp. “Foolish human. In Nawia, there is nothing but pain.”

  And then I was hauled up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and the world was rushing by.

  It took a few minutes, but the reality of my situation soon kick-started my fight reflex. I hammered on the monster’s unrelenting back and kicked my legs, but his grip was too tight. No. There was no way he was taking me with him. I needed to escape. I clawed at his skin, drawing blood. He didn’t even flinch; instead, his amused laughter drifted into the night air.

  Blood dripped and gathered at the hem of his loin cloth, and then the wounds closed before my eyes. Oh, God. What was he? What was this place? Terror spiked my blood, and the need to flee was a fresh fire racing through my blood. My nails found his back again, raking and clawing as scream after rage-filled scream ripped the air, and then my feet hit the ground. I was shoved against the bark of a tree and pinned there by his hand curled around my throat. He squeezed just enough to cut off my screams.

  “You want to die?” Fire burned in the depths of his eyes. “You want pain? Then keep screaming, human. There are monsters worse than me lurking in these woods. Monsters that will fuck you raw and tear out your entrails and not necessarily in that order. Berstuk is merely one of them.”

  He was looking at me in that hungry way, a way that made me wonder if that thought excited him.

  An ominous howl rose up behind us.

  His eyes narrowed, and the menace bled out of his features. “Baku,” he whispered. “A pack. Close.” He cocked his head, listening. Another howl. “They smell you. They’re tracking you.” His hand tightened. “You scream once more, and I’ll leave you here to die.”

  My stomach turned, and my chest ached with sobs. More monsters? I couldn’t run anymore, not now. I couldn’t fight, not these creatures. If I was to survive, then there was a choice to be made. I reached up and gripped his wrist, my eyes pleading with him even though every primal, visceral part of me rebelled.

  Satisfaction painted his beautiful, harsh features. His grip loosened, and I was hauled back over his shoulder. This time, I didn’t fight him, and the world rushed by much quicker.

  My horned captor set me on my feet beside a vast tree trunk.

  I glanced back the way we’d come, into the shadows cast by the trees. “Are they gone?”

  “Yes. They lost your scent half a mile back. “He cupped my face roughly. “Now stand still and close your eyes.”

  “What?”

  “Are you hard of hearing, or merely touched in the head?”

  His voice was smooth and rough all at the same time, reverberating in my head every time he spoke, making
it hard to focus on the actual words.

  “Um, neither.”

  “Then close your eyes.”

  What choice did I have? I did as he asked and held my breath, my senses acutely aware of his earthen, mossy scent and the rough callouses of his fingertips against my soft skin. And then something wet and warm swept across my cheek.

  His tongue?

  Oh, God. He was licking me again. I reared back and turned my face away on reflex. “Stop.”

  He growled, and then I was pushed up against the tree, and his tongue was on my neck while his hands pushed at my cloak, yanking down my shirt to sweep across my collarbone and—

  “Stop!” I shoved him as hard as I could, heat rising in my cheeks. “Don’t.”

  He licked his lips, his gaze darkening.

  Oh, crud. Was he going to eat me now? I pressed myself against the tree. “Please. Don’t eat me, okay. I really, really don’t want to be eaten.”

  He stared at me for a long beat. “Don’t run and don’t bleed, and maybe I won’t eat you.”

  Was that a threat or a promise?

  “Now get inside,” he ordered.

  “Inside?”

  He grabbed my arm and yanked me against his chest. His skin brushed my cheek, warm and velvet-soft, and then I was being shoved away from him to tumble through a dark aperture and land on something soft and furry that smelled of death.

  “Home sweet home,” he said dryly.

  A scraping sound was followed by the soft flare of light. A rug. I was on a rug that still had eyes and a face. Oh, God. I kicked away from it, ass hitting dirt. Bones piled up to the left, more furs to the right, and him, my horned monster companion who had a penchant for licking, blocking what looked to be the only exit out of this tree. Yes. A tree. I was inside a crudding tree.

  “Take off your clothes.” His tone was matter-of-fact, but his words chilled me to the core.

  “No.” I pulled myself up, reaching for my chain.