Vengeance (The Captive Series, Book 6) (8 page)

***

Tempest weaved her way in and out of the cave. She climbed higher then lower with the flow of the rock beneath her feet as she made her way to the end. When the exit to the cave was only a hundred feet away, she extinguished the flame by rolling the torch around on the floor. Carefully, she unwrapped the rag from the end; she hissed when her fingers blistered from the lingering heat. With a shake of her wrist, she tossed it on the ground.

She kept hold of the torch; she would need it again, if she wasn’t captured, dragged back, and lit on fire as soon as she exited the cave. Her steps were noiseless and carefully placed as she approached the sliver of moonlight filtering inside the constricted exit of the cave.

Turning sideways, she slid cautiously between the rock walls surrounding her. She froze when there was only three feet left until the exit. Unmoving, she stood and listened for any sign of someone outside the cave. Her hands shook as she forced herself to continue to inch forward. No matter how tempting it was, she simply could not stand in this cave and wait for help to come to her.

At the edge of the exit, she placed her forehead against the cool rock and took a minute to steady herself. She wrapped her hand around the rock wall and poked her head out. Her eyes searched over the pathways and rocks carved into the mountains surrounding her. She didn’t see any guards patrolling the mountainside, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there, blending in with their surroundings.

Her gaze slid to the lake situated in the valley below. The sliver of the moon hanging high in the sky reflected in the lake’s clear blue surface. She could almost believe she could walk straight across the pathway the moon had lit across the shimmering water. Almost believe all was right in the world as she gazed down at the beautiful scene beneath her.

Massive boulders surrounded the lake;
their jagged formations had been cut from the mountains surrounding it by the water. No one had ever lived on this side of the mountain as there was no land to build on, but she’d spent a fair amount of time swimming in the lake and lying on the boulders, absorbing the sun in the summertime.

Tilting her head back, she examined the sky. The stars were beginning to come to life. Now was the time for her to go.

Releasing the wall, she stepped from the cave and hurried down the rocky ledge lining the mountain. The path was so narrow she could only place one foot on it at a time. One wrong step and she would end up smashed onto the rocks below. The fall most likely wouldn’t kill her, unless it somehow managed to knock her head from her body. However, she couldn’t afford to lie there, for what could be days, while she waited for her broken bones to mend.

After two hundred feet, the path ended abruptly in another rock wall. Stopping at the end of the path, her gaze slid over the top of the mountains again. Everything remained calm and still. She slipped the torch into the rope wrapped around her waist before dipping her foot over the side of the path. She moved it around in search of a rock to use as leverage to climb down. She’d climbed up and down these mountains more times than she could count, but that had always been in the daytime and without the added worry of somebody shouting at her to stop.

Her foot finally found a sturdy rock. She carefully lowered herself over the path and onto the mountain face. Her hands and feet found holds amongst the crevices in the mountain, rapidly allowing her to move down until she finally found the next ledge. Dropping onto it, she kept her back pressed against the wall as she slid down into a crouch.

She rested for a minute before shoving herself to her feet again. This pathway was wider than the one before as it wound down toward the lake below. She broke into a jog, eager to get out of the open and into the shelter of the next cave.

She was only a hundred feet from the entrance of the cave when something moved amongst the shadows surrounding her. A plume of snow kicked up around her feet when she skidded to a halt on the pathway. Her hand wrapped around the torch, tugging it free of her waistband as a figure emerged on the pathway. Her deadened heart leapt into her throat as the moon revealed the white cloak covering the figure before her.

“And where do you think you’re going?” the gravelly voice rumbled at her from the shadows.

Tempest glanced down at her makeshift white cloak, would it be enough to keep her identity hidden? Could she pull off trying to convince him she was one of them? She tried to steady her hands as she met the unrelenting brown eyes across from her.

“Checking the perimeter,” she replied far more casually than she felt. She’d heard Kane say something about the perimeter once to the two other vampires staying in the orphanage. The word sounded strange and ridiculous coming out of her mouth, but maybe he would believe her.

The man’s gaze slid over her.
He’s not buying it,
she realized as a smirk curved his full mouth. “Are you now?”

The ice encasing her had nothing to do with the cool wind whipping down from the mountains and blowing over her skin. The lecherous glint in his eyes made her skin crawl. She realized too late there were other ways she could be made to pay for what she’d done here tonight, besides being locked in the stocks and burned alive.

Her hands tightened on the torch as he started to come toward her. “I don’t recall seeing you around before.”

“I’m a new recruit, from the town,” she replied. She was young, but she was fast, and she knew these mountains far better than this man did. If she could get away from him, she stood a good chance of losing him in the caves. “I haven’t met a lot of the others yet.”

His gaze focused on her white cloak as he took another step closer to her. She didn’t know if he could tell it wasn’t the same quality as his or not yet, but if he got any closer he would definitely be able to. “It surprises me they would send you out here already.”

He wasn’t surprised by it; he knew she was lying. Tempest kept her gaze locked on his as he came closer. There was a cave ten feet behind her she could slip into; it led higher into the mountain and came out on a ledge only a couple of inches wide. She’d never traversed the narrow ledge before and didn’t want tonight to be the first time she tried; she’d most likely fail and end up falling again. That would spell certain doom.

No, there would be no turning back. She had to stay and fight; it was the only way she would survive this night.

The man continued to approach her but he didn’t bother to look at her cloak again. She adjusted her hold on the torch, waiting for him to get closer to her. She’d only have one shot at this with him. His cruel smile revealed his crooked teeth. Yep, she’d like nothing more than to bash every one of those ugly teeth down his throat. She didn’t think about what he would do to her if he got his hands on her. The idea of it made her stomach turn and her hands shake. She had to keep her wits about her.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing,” he murmured. Bile surged up her throat; now that he was closer the pungent aroma of his body odor wafted over her. No way, there was no way she was going to let this man get his hands on her. “Very pretty.”

The only fight she’d ever been in was with another child from the orphanage. They’d both been ten years old and gotten into a tiff over a wooden block. It had been one of their few toys. The boy had punched her in the face and given her a bloody lip; she’d broken his nose. Neither of them had really won the battle as the block they’d fought over had been taken away and thrown in the trash. She’d never fought anyone again; she hadn’t enjoyed it, and she’d learned no one really won in the end. There would be a winner here though, and she intended it to be her.

He was only a foot away from her, when she lifted the torch and swung it at him with the full force of her might. An enraged shout escaped her; her arms reverberated from the blow as the thick wood smashed against his shoulder, knocking him to the side. He had to have seen the torch in her hands, but he must not have been expecting her to attack, as he was slow to react to her.

His hands came up after the torch smashed off him. “Bitch!” he snarled.

Tempest leapt forward. She couldn’t lay off him; she had to keep on the offensive while he was still thrown off by her attack. Lowering her shoulder, she rammed it into his ribcage, pushing him toward the side. This time the shout that escaped him was one of pure panic as he was knocked off balance by her shove. His arms pin wheeled, his eyes bugged out of his head as he scrambled to maintain his balance on the slippery pathway, but gravity hated to be denied.

His hands scrambled at her arms, tearing at the cloak. She barely heard the fabric rip over the howling wind and the man’s frightened cries. Blood spilled from the scratches he tore across her flesh and spilled onto the snow beneath their feet. Sympathy and guilt battered at her as she fought, but she couldn’t back down. He’d kill her if she did.

Throwing herself backward, she lifted her foot and slammed it into his stomach. The final, brutal thrust was enough to knock his grip on her arms free. His arms spun faster as he teetered precariously on the edge of the pathway. Finally, after what had seemed like an hour but was only seconds, he tumbled from view. He spiraled away like the fresh snow beginning to drift over her. The last of his screams were torn away by the whipping wind and unforgiving mountains below.

Tempest stood, shaking as she tried to calm herself and ease the adrenaline kicking through her body like a runaway, bucking horse. She took a cautious step toward the edge of the ledge and peered over. Two hundred feet below her, sprawled on the rocks, lay the man she’d shoved over the side. The red of his blood was vibrant and ghastly against the pristine snow surrounding him. She didn’t know if he was still alive, he most likely was, but she wasn’t going to climb down there and find out.

Stepping away from the edge, she fought against the tears burning her eyes as she hurried down the path toward the next cave. He would have done far worse to her, she reminded herself, as she slipped into the cool recesses of the dark cavern. She trembled at the notion of that man touching her or kissing her, but she still couldn’t rid herself of the inward quaking rattling her bones. It had been her second fight and she’d hurt someone far worse than she’d ever planned to do in her life.

Get it together,
she told herself. No, she’d never planned to injure someone as badly as she just had, but she hadn’t chosen this situation. It had been
forced
on her. She may have to do even worse before her journey was over. She wouldn’t like it, but she would do what had to be done in order to save the children.

Fifty feet into the cave, she dug out another rag and tied it to the end of the torch. There would never be any turning back, she realized as she lit the rag and made her way through the cave.

***

Tempest huddled deeper within her heavy, black wool cloak, burying herself inside the thick material the best she could as she fought against the wind trying to tear her hood off her head. Before exiting the final cave, she had slipped it on beneath the white cloak. She’d only kept the white cloak on in order to help her blend in with the world around her. The bottoms of the two cloaks beat against her shins and knees when she lifted her feet from the snow.

She’d lost sensation in her nose and cheeks; she wasn’t sure if she had feet anymore as she sank to the middle of her shins in the snow. Her knee-high boots kept the snow from slipping inside them, but she couldn’t escape the cold of the snow pressing against the outside of the fur-lined boots.

She’d escaped from the caves sometime yesterday, she believed, to discover the snow that had been spiraling down when she’d left the orphanage had turned into a full-fledged blizzard. If she hadn’t encountered the man on the cliff, she would have stayed within the cave and waited out the storm, but she’d been unwilling to take the chance they would find her if she did.

She’d lost track of the day and time in the wind and snow relentlessly beating against her. Exhaustion had claimed all of her muscles and bones; it took all she had to keep going forward. Hunger twisted in her gut; her fangs pressed against her inner lip. She’d expected to be able to hunt animals once she was free of the caves, but they’d all been smart enough to go to ground during the storm.

The world now consisted of the five feet in front of her she could see through the wall of white all around her. She’d lost track of where she was, but she never would have known anyway. Nothing outside of her own town would be familiar to her. She’d left to find help, but she was beginning to believe she would be destroyed by the winter. That she would wander out here for eternity, starving and cold, and the others would all die because of her failure.

That belief kept her trudging onward, struggling against the snow sucking at her boots and weighing down her rubbery legs. She grabbed hold of her hood when the wind snatched it away from her. Pulling it down, she held it close against her face. Crystals of ice coated her lashes; she’d bet she had icicles forming on her nose and clothing.

She took another step forward, stumbled and fell when her legs gave out on her. Kneeling in the snow, her numbed fingers dug into the fluffy flakes piling up around her. The idea of curling up and going to sleep, if only for a little bit, was so entirely tempting she leaned to the side to lie down.

“Agnes, Nora, Abbott, Pallas, Dane, Claude,” she whispered.

With a low groan, she somehow managed to push herself to her feet once more. Her knees throbbed; her legs wobbled as she forced herself onward. She didn’t know how far she went, how long she continued before her legs gave out on her again. Her body slumped to the ground; her shoulders hunched forward against the storm.

Unable to rise again, she sat in the snow swirling around her. Trying to bolster her strength, she recited the names of her loved ones again, but she still couldn’t force herself to rise. Exhaustion beat against her as insistently as the wind and snow. She’d become a vampire snowman before she woke again, but perhaps a small nap would help her.

The idea she’d never rise from a nap flittered across her mind. The cold wouldn’t kill her, but she couldn’t shake the thought she would awaken to find herself buried so far beneath the snow she’d never be able to escape.

She tried to get back to her feet but before she was halfway up, she collapsed again. The urge to cry overtook her, but she didn’t have the energy to summon any tears. Instead, she simply stared at the white now encompassing her entire world. If she’d been home still, she would have loved this storm. She would have started a large fire, settled in with a good book and watched as their world became covered in a blanket of white.

Now, she hated it. It was keeping her from what had to be done, it spelled the death of everyone she’d ever cared about. She shoved her fingers into the snow and staggered to her feet once more. She made it only three feet before her ankle twisted out from under her and she fell again.

Wiping at the white coating her lashes, she blinked against the storm as a murky figure began to take shape. At first, she believed it was a hallucination, that fatigue had pushed her beyond sanity and into a world no longer existing in reality. Then the realization that the invaders had found her hit her. In her mind, she got to her feet once more, but when she blinked again, she realized she hadn’t moved at all.

The warm plume of a horse’s breath blew against her face, providing a brief warmth to her icy skin. She lifted her head to take in the man sitting upon its back. He stared down at her with a furrowed brow and compressed lips. Tempest touched the horse’s nose to assure herself it was real. Her hand had just grazed its velvety muzzle when she passed out in the snow.