Deadly Captive

Home > Romance > Deadly Captive > Page 23
Deadly Captive Page 23

by Bianca Sommerland


  Daederich yanked me away from her when the flames threatened to take me as well and I still hadn't moved.

  Without me pinning her down, Chrissie shot to her feet and ran along the edge of the water, her piercing screams more animal than human. The fire grew around her, dancing high as she ran, making her appear to be a great torch. Pain stole the obvious from her for a time, but eventually she saw the salvation of the water and dived in. The water swallowed her screams. But, before the echo of them could cease, she had risen again and resumed them.

  Her skin, black as the water, cracked and bled. It was a sickening sight, but, still, I knew that the damage wasn't enough to kill her, probably wasn't even enough to scar her. I reached for my sword, but it slipped from my fingers. I didn't have the strength left to finish it.

  Daederich reached down and took hold of my sword. "Let me finish it, Lydia."

  No more. No less. Still, I understood all that he didn't say. Because he loved me, he wanted part of this vengeance. Because I loved him, I would give it to him.

  Letting Elah hold me, Daederich waded into the water. He lifted the sword and waited until her eyes met his and her charred lips formed a silent "No!" Thrusting his whole body into the movement, he swung the sword down, the strength of the motion sending the blade effortlessly through flesh and bone. Her head dropped into the water several feet from her body, and what was left of her hair floated above it like dark, mangled weeds. Not a quick death, but not torture. Something in between. Now that she was dead, I realized it didn't really matter. She was dead. Bruno was dead. They couldn't hurt us anymore.

  Cyrus. Cyrus still could unless someone found his body and could confirm he was dead. Even if he never came after us again, the fact that he still lived, somewhere, would haunt us forever. It would hold us both from moving on.

  Daederich waded out of the lake and took me up in his arms. "I won't chance losing you just to find him, Lydia. These men are skilled. If he's here, they'll find him."

  I clenched my teeth to hold back a moan. Now that things had calmed, my wounds demanded attention. I had lost a lot of blood when Chrissie had cut my throat.

  It was unlikely that I'd be conscious much longer. "Daederich, we can't let him get away."

  He kissed my brow and gave me a tight smile. "We won't. If he's not here, we'll hunt him. One day. Let him fret about it. Wonder when that day will come. We can take our time; we've got plenty. Every second he lives will be granted by us."

  I relaxed against him, liking the idea. Cyrus wouldn't be so complacent now, now that he'd gotten a taste of what we could do. Whether or not he'd be afraid was another matter, but I let myself believe he would be, deep down inside in a place he wouldn't face.

  Elah stepped up and clenched his hand to Daederich's shoulder, then leaned over to give me a light kiss on the cheek. "You both did very well. If you ever feel like taking on another job, let me know."

  Too tired to answer, I simply rested my head against Daederich's chest.

  Daederich watched Elah turn away, an intent look on his face. "How will I get a hold of you?"

  Elah glanced back over his shoulder and gave Daederich a challenging grin. "I'm sure you'll figure something out. You're quite resourceful."

  I wanted to ask what Elah meant, but something about the look in Daederich's eyes stopped me. At first, I thought he was angry. He looked around, sighed, and started walking.

  "Son of a bitch." He muttered.

  It didn't take me long to figure it out. He wasn't angry; he was annoyed. They had left us to fend for ourselves now that we were no longer useful. It irked me at first that Elah could be so callous, considering what had passed between us. It was then I understood. He'd made a clean break, and what appeared to be cold abandonment was actually a show of respect. He knew we would manage, and, more, he was making sure both Daederich and I knew there were no lingering ties.

  I knew Daederich might not see it that way, but I didn't see the need to explain it.

  Deep down inside, I was grateful to Elah. He'd made it so our brief encounter meant nothing and wouldn't hover over Daederich and me, tainting the strong bond we shared. From this point on, we could move forward and create a life together without bitterness or guilt.

  Elah had been right about Daederich's resourcefulness. It didn't take him long to find the car of one of the guests, one who would never need it again, and settle me comfortably into the backseat. Well before the sun had risen, he found shelter in a quaint little motel, and, after binding my wounds, he found blood to help me heal while I slept. It was warm and fresh and so very sweet. I didn't ask where he'd gotten it.

  We stayed in the motel until my strength returned. Then we discussed where we would go. I wanted to go to Germany, give him a chance to see his son. He rejected the idea and suggested Chicago out of spite. In the end, we agreed on Los Angeles. Since New York was off limits, it seemed as good a place as any to hunt. There would be plenty of guilty fare. Neither of us wanted to confine ourselves to cold blood. The appeal of feeding off criminals and having fresh blood every night made it an easy choice.

  When we left the motel, it was with a touch of regret. I felt it within, like the aftertaste of something far too sweet. Our vengeance had been rewarding, even though Cyrus had slipped through our grasp, but it left an empty feeling behind. With no past and no idea of what the future held, the idea of never-ending life was a little frightening. What was there to live for? What was there to keep us going year after year?

  Daederich tried hard not to answer my private thoughts too often, but this one he did. Taking me in his arms, he held me close, kissed me hard, and met my eyes. "I don't know about you, Lydia, but I plan to give you a life's worth of memories to make up for all you've lost. That'll take about twenty years. How 'bout we worry about forever after that?"

  Twenty years. Daederich knew me too well. The morsel of time was much easier to swallow than trying to absorb it all at once. Twenty years worth of memories built with him. I liked that idea very much.

  I couldn't wait to get started.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "You keep stuffing your face like that, and you're gonna make yourself sick again." Daederich warned, not taking his eyes off the target.

  Licking the cotton candy from my fingers, I flashed him a grin. "Don't worry so much."

  He rolled his eyes toward me now. "Must you act like such a child?"

  I stuck my tongue out at him. "You didn't think I was childish last night."

  Lowering the bow and arrow, he gave me a lusty grin. "I never thought those dance lessons would pay off quite so well." He looked me over slowly and then growled, turning his attention back to the target. "I don't see why we have to stay here

  'til closing."

  With a little shrug, I took another pinch of the fluffy pink candy and let it melt on my tongue. "What I don't get is why you're concentrating so hard on shooting that arrow."

  "You want the panda."

  "Yeah."

  "The game's rigged."

  I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I know that. So, take a shot and compensate for the next. It worked for me at the shooting range."

  Daederich's lip slanted. "You missed."

  My brow furrowed. "So?"

  Setting the bow so he was aiming exactly three inches to the left and down half an inch from the target, he closed one eye and drew the bow back. "So, I don't miss."

  The image of him reminded me of my favorite movie, so much that I couldn't help playing it out. Leaning close I whispered in his ear. "You know how you were teaching me to shoot, no matter what the distraction."

  Daederich grunted and ground his teeth.

  I smiled. "Let's see you do it."

  Brow arched, he gave a curt nod. His muscles tensed as he prepared to release the bow. I blew softly on his ear. The arrow flew.

  "We've got a winner!" The carnie came over to us with a huge stuffed brown bear.

  I shook my head and pointed at a panda, much cuter
and more reasonably sized.

  "I want that one."

  The carnie frowned. "But he won this one."

  Eyes flashing, Daederich lunged for the man. I held him back, trying not to laugh as the little man scrambled out of reach and tossed me the panda, apologizing profusely before ducking out of sight.

  Shaking my head, I hugged the panda tight and gave Daederich a playful shove.

  "You're a big bully."

  Pulling me against his side, Daederich led me through the crowd. "He deserved it. He had some nerve trying to deny you."

  I laughed. "You deny me all the time!"

  Squeezing me without slowing his pace, Daederich shrugged. "That's different.

  I'm your sire. It's my right."

  I scoffed and ducked under his arm, giggling when he tried to grab me. Skipping back a few steps, I swirled around to run and knocked a young boy from his feet.

  Gray-blue eyes wide, he gazed up morosely as his balloon took flight.

  I jumped up and tried to catch the string, missing it as the breeze caught it and pulled it out of reach.

  An apology on my lips, I looked back down, ready to promise to replace the balloon. The boy was gone.

  Frowning, I looked around. I thought I saw him, but the cloak of the man who tugged him along obscured his tiny form.

  The boy's eyes. Steel eyes, just like Daederich's. They haunted me, as did the image of the man's long black hair. I started running, ignoring Daederich's call.

  One last sweeping glance of the cloak and they were gone. I prayed I had been wrong.

  The hard set of Daederich's features as he reached my side told me I wasn't. Like molten silver, his eyes burned. He'd seen the image in my mind and knew, just as I did now, what had slipped through our grasp.

  The reprieve had been sweet. It was over. A new drive had taken us both, a goal more all encompassing than the need for revenge had ever been.

  Daederich wouldn't stop until he retrieved what had been taken. Neither would I.

  Cyrus wanted our full attention. Now he had it.

  ~The End~

  About the Author

  Bianca Sommerland was born and raised in Montreal, Quebec. When not reading neurotically or writing as though the fate of the world rests on her keyboard, she is either watching hockey or teaching her daughters the beauty of a classic, steel pony while reminiscing about her days in Auto Body Mechanics.

  Her time is balanced with utmost care between normal family life, and the internal paranormal realm where her characters reside. For the most part, she succeeds. You can find her at http://imnoangelauthorsblog.wordpress.com/

 

 

 


‹ Prev