A few minutes later, the balls of my feet and ankles stinging—not to mention the incredible pain in my hip from the crouched landing after the short fall from the end of the knotted sheet—I was on the ground.
I didn’t dare take any more time. The longer I waited, the greater the chance Max’s cronies on security detail would figure out I was gone and catch up to me.
Stumbling through the snow, I made a beeline for the wall surrounding the property. I needed speed, and the high heels would cut into that enormously, more than the limp caused by my aching hip already did. I could put on the boots once I was over the wall and safe on the other side.
“Hey! Get back here!”
No. No, no, no. I wasn’t stopping, not for one of Max’s people, not for anything.
Everything hurt, but I still ran, limping every step of the way. Snow crunching behind me made it clear I had one pursuer who was catching up quickly. I wasn’t going to stop, but I did slow down, breathing deeply, counting down the seconds as those heavy footsteps grew closer.
Just before fingers brushed my shoulder, I threw up my elbow, crying out at the shock traveling up my arm from contact. The guy crashed into my back, his momentum sending us both tumbling to the ground in a swirl of white.
He didn’t make a grab for me once we were down. Both of us lay on our backs, but he was choking around a damaged, if not crushed, windpipe. Lucky shot on my part. He wouldn’t be able to follow anytime soon.
It didn’t take me long to gasp some breath back into my lungs, but I did need a couple of minutes to regain my ability to see around the blinding pain radiating from my hip. The guy didn’t resist as I crawled over and rolled him out of his coat and took his gloves, his eyes bugging as he watched me shrug into the too-large garment.
After a moment’s reflection, I patted down his pockets and took his wallet and keys while I was at it.
It was a bit of a struggle getting back to my feet, but once I managed, I met his wide-eyed gaze. There was fear there. Fear of me, maybe. The taste of it on my tongue, sweet like syrup, sparked a sudden, fierce hunger. When I raised a hand to tug on a glove and saw the claws and spidery black veins, I could imagine why he was afraid—but I was still human enough to remember not to give him any more reason than that.
“You tell Max he’s going to pay. You tell him to let the others go or I’ll be back, and next time I’ll burn this place to the ground.”
Even as I said it, the words lisping around growing fangs, I knew it was true. He had Sara. Iana. Vivian. Na’man. All those other people. As soon as I found a safe place, a pay phone, a cell phone to borrow—anything—I would get in touch with Royce and get his help to end Max’s operation once and for all.
It still hurt to move, but I felt stronger, invigorated somehow. Like the violence was spurring some kind of survival instinct to heal and move at a greater pace. Whatever Other-ness was in my blood, it had some benefits aside from making me Hulk out with minimal provocation. I would have to be careful not to give in to the hunger cramping my stomach. Blood or flesh, either would do, but feeding that inner beast with something more tangible would send me down a path I didn’t want to explore.
Once I reached the wall, I looked back over my shoulder. The guy who had attacked me was still on the ground and more dark figures were coming toward me from the house. I didn’t hesitate, reaching for the lip of the wall well above my head. The jump was smoother than I expected, almost leading me to miss grabbing for the iron spikes set into the top. It was getting easier to ignore the cold and pain as I pulled myself up to the edge, toes curling against the ice.
Distant shouts followed me as I lowered myself over the other side and dropped into the drift of snow below.
And cursed as I landed on a rock or something. Ow, ow, ow.
At least I didn’t break anything. And I wasn’t bleeding. Yay, go me.
Hopping over to a nearby rock jutting above the snow, I brushed off the worst of it and sat down. Then I brushed as much snow off my feet as I could with one of the extra socks I’d stuffed in my pocket. That out of the way, with a groan, I pulled on the boots, wriggling my toes to settle them in the material I’d stuffed inside. My feet felt like blocks of solid ice, but hopefully the boots and socks would provide enough insulation for them to warm up before any damage was done.
Levering to my feet, I wobbled unsteadily on the heels. It was uncomfortable, and the ankle of the foot that had landed on the rock ached, but it was better than losing my toes to frostbite.
Glancing around, I looked for any sign of civilization. No roads were visible through the evergreens and skeletal bones of trees that had shed their leaves for winter. No man-made structures, either. There might have been something out there, but I didn’t want to risk stumbling around lost in the woods at this time of year. Max wouldn’t call for an official search party and anyone he sent to find me wouldn’t make the trip back pleasant. Assuming there would be a trip back.
Stepping carefully, I made my way a few yards from the wall, always keeping it in sight and on my right. If I followed the wall, eventually I would find a driveway, which would lead to a road, which would (presumably) lead to civilization. I’d have to take care not to trip on anything unseen under the blanket of white, and to keep moving, no matter how much everything hurt. My feet, my ankles, my hip—the pain reminded me I was alive. I was free, and I had a chance.
That was all that kept me going. I wanted to lie down. I wanted to curl up and cry in the snow. I wanted to go back, to make sure Sara was okay. I just wanted to rest, for someone else to take over, to fix everything I’d broken and make it all go away.
And if I gave in to that temptation, Max would win. All those people still trapped with him would continue to suffer—maybe more, if he was as angry with my escape as I imagined he was going to be when he heard the news. I’d hate to be the messenger on his security team for that little tidbit.
I had to reach Royce as soon as possible, and pray it was before Max got it into his head to hurt Sara.
The collar was tugged up to keep the wind from biting too deep against my face, and I hugged the jacket tight to myself as I got moving. I kept checking back the way I had come and listening for any sounds of pursuit as I hobbled along. It was only a matter of time before the other guards came looking for my trail.
Every sound made me jump. Crunching ice. The muted thump of piles of snow falling from tree limbs. Snapping branches. Even telling myself that I had more strength than Max’s human minions and that I knew enough self-defense to hurt them if they should find me didn’t help. The thought made me feel even colder than I already was. Psyching myself up was a fine art I had never perfected.
Even though I was watching and listening, hypersensitive to anything out of place, I almost walked right into one of the guards looking for me. His clothing blended in with the snow, all whites and grays, and he was leaning against a birch tree with pale, peeling bark. I froze, the guy only inches away, hood pulled low over his eyes and head ducked with a glove in his teeth as he tapped on a cell phone. That distracting piece of modern technology was the only reason he didn’t notice me.
Hands clapped over my mouth, I backed up, quick, silent, pain momentarily forgotten as I faded into the brush. Ducking behind a tree, I stayed there, pressed against the bark, trying not to hyperventilate or make a sound.
The strains of the James Bond theme started playing. I almost screamed, but managed to swallow back the urge once it sank in that it was just the guy’s cell phone.
“Yeah? ... What? No, haven’t seen any sign.” He quieted, but I couldn’t make out whatever the other person was saying. “. . . Yeah, give me a minute. I’ll be right there.”
He stomped off in the direction I’d come from, muttering under his breath. I made out “jackass,” but that was about it.
I needed to be much more careful. That was too close a call. I stayed where I was for another minute, listening, making sure he was gone and that no one else was coming. They’d pick up on my trail anytime now.
On the bright side, they appeared human. I didn’t think they had heightened senses, if cell phone guy was anything to go by. I didn’t hear any dogs, so most likely they didn’t have anything that could follow me by scent. Not until dark, when the vampires came out to play. If I could disguise my trail, maybe it would keep them from finding me.
I looked around, studying the trees. There was some kind of cedar not far from where I was standing. The short, stiff needles would make a decent broom to hide some of my tracks. I moved around the far side of it, opposite the wall, and broke off a small branch. The scent of the sap was sharp on the crisp air. Put me in mind of hamster shavings.
Brushing up my tracks turned out to be easier than expected with the way that guy had been moving through the snow. Sure, the depressions were still there, but my passage was far less noticeable when I swept away the signs. At one point when I backtracked I even found a place where cell phone bro had—I am pretty sure unknowingly—crossed over mine. A great and wily hunter, he was not. I made a few new tracks to make it look as if I had gone deeper into the woods before following his tracks the way he had originally come. Oh, and I held on to that cedar branch, just in case.
I did have to be careful. He had been moving closer to the wall than I intended to be, and despite my best efforts, I ended up dragging my bad leg a few times. Still, it made it easier not to trip on anything when I knew exactly where to step, and having a clear path to follow gave me the opportunity to move with more speed and certainty.
It took a lot longer than I expected to reach the recessed door in the wall where the guy had come out. On the bright side, there was a brick walkway leading up to that locked, wrought iron gate back into hell. A swept brick walkway that led straight to a winding, paved road only a few yards away. Hallelujah and praise be to whoever above was finally looking out for me.
Just before the urge to make a run for the road hit me, common sense reasserted itself. I stayed where I was for a moment, studying the path. If it looked too good to be true, it probably was.
I crouched down—bit off the screamed curse that thoughtless move almost spurred out of me—then peered at the upper slope of the archway above the gate after wiping away the tears of pain. As I suspected, there was a security camera angled to see the walkway and even the road. Probably to watch for anyone who might think to drop in unexpectedly. Knowing who was coming gave Max and his people a chance to hide the evildoing, hide the bodies, hide the human trafficking, et cetera, ad infinitum, ad nauseum. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a few dozen hidden closets or creepy basements to shove those skeletons into if the police should stop by, as I had already witnessed.
Even the thought of the last of his basements I’d visited was enough to bring up a sudden urge to vomit and a flare of unexpected heat on my hip. Shoving it to the back of my mind, I rose—much more carefully than I’d crouched—and faded back a few steps, sweeping up my tracks with the branch as I went. I knew where the road was now. Even if my everything hurt, I had a direction and a plan. Better than what I’d had an hour ago.
Then it hit me. The urge to walk to that gate. The naked desire to return to Max’s side. To beg forgiveness.
I locked my muscles and closed my eyes, biting my lip until it bled. He knew. He knew I was gone and he wanted me back. Was demanding I come back, using that ephemeral connection between us.
It wasn’t like hearing words or seeing images, exactly. The feel of him in my head was familiar from those few days when I had first been bound to him by blood. He’d been able to pull my strings then, puppet-like, making me walk and talk however he wanted. Since the connection was never fully set between us by another taste of his blood, now it was just a bone-deep knowledge that something greater than me was trying to take the wheel and make me do what it desired. Something that was pushing at the walls I erected to keep it out, spider-claws tickling over my brain in search of any weakness to worm their way inside.
Freedom tasted better. Even if it did taste like my own black, corrupted blood. Bit by bit, I shored up my defenses with memories of what he had done to hurt me, hurt Sara, hurt Mouse, and what he might do to me if I gave in to that urge to return to his side. The more I thought about the pain he’d inflicted, the easier it was to keep him out.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, out in the open, easy pickings for anyone in his employ to find me. It was too overcast to be sure, but the angle of the sun seemed different once the worst of the urge to go running back to Max’s side faded. Still there. Still urgent. Still painful.
But I’d just learned a whole new definition of pain at Max’s hands a few hours ago, and his mental nudges couldn’t hold a candle to that.
Fists clenched, eyes narrowed to the point I could barely see, I took a step toward the trees and the unseen road ahead. Then another. Another.
I remembered at the last minute that I needed to continue sweeping up my tracks behind me, but by then, it wasn’t so hard to move independently.
I walked away from hell with my head high, knowing that I would be back. And that next time it would be to see it burned to the ground.