Chapter 11

Things were certainly starting to get out of hand, not to mention confusing. Had he confided in the vampire? Why? She was like the rest of them—worse because she was their princess or heir or whatever she called herself. And now she knew about Zachariah.

Flashes of the past involuntarily invaded his mind in spite of his best efforts to push them away. He remembered the day clearly. He could never forget. His family had led a simple life in a small village. However, there were dangers to living in a village that lacked a border and saw very few soldiers.

They were an easy target for the coven of hungry vampires. He recalled hearing the screams long before he witnessed the killing. Blood… Red eyes. Fangs. His parents were some of the first to die tucked away in their cramped cottage while he and Zachariah herded the sheep. They, too, would have been killed if they hadn’t been with the animals. One lone vampire, a female, found them and attacked Zachariah before they could escape. However, the creature hadn’t been able to feed for long before Adam attacked with little concern for himself. Zachariah’s steel knife straight to the throat, and in her distraction, he impaled her with an iron pitchfork. She had been his first kill, something he would never forget.

Zachariah had been severely wounded, his life barely hanging on by a thread. It had been all he could do to drag his brother into the woods and seek shelter for several days, hiding from the vampires while still trying to keep him alive. Yes, Zachariah lived. But at a steep price.

He turned his brother’s dagger in his hand, thinking of the heavy burdens of the past. Zachariah was the one thing he had left of his family. He refused to abandon him, and he would never kill his own brother. Never.

Despite blood hunter law saying otherwise.

He pushed the dagger away and sighed in frustration. What was he supposed to do with Willow now? None of the elixirs worked, and he doubted any of the others would cure vampirism either. And he dared not test these theories on his brother lest he accidentally kill him instead of cure. There had to be something he could do…

Willow’s voice penetrated through the door, breaking him from his reverie. “It’s extremely stuffy in here. But don’t mind me. It’s not like I’m dying of stale air.”

He groaned and contemplated whether he could pretend he didn’t hear her.

“I know you’re awake in there. I can hear you.”

Oh, right, he thought to himself with a sigh. Curse those heightened senses of hers.

Finally relenting, he stood from his chair and opened the door to find Willow sprawled on the cushioned chair in front of a nonexistent fire. She looked bored, but he suspected it was to spite him. Unlike when they first met, there was no fear of him in her eyes. He didn’t know whether to be bothered it had disappeared or glad he didn’t inspire such emotion from her anymore.

Without a word, he took the chain binding her wrist and pulled her outside into the night, crickets chirping lazily underneath a full moon. He would have stopped to admire the way the moonlight bathed the forest in a silver luster, but now wasn’t the time. Not when the vampire would likely hold it over his head.

“Wait, what are you doing?” she asked in a tense voice as he circled the chain around a large tree and secured her other wrist with the opposite end. She was effectively trapped.

“You don’t like the stale air? I thought you’d like it outside much better.”

“But… You’re leaving me.”

She looked at him with large eyes, a tad bit of unease showing through them although she seemed to try hard to hide it. He found it difficult to form coherent thoughts when she looked at him like that.

He stubbornly shook his compassion away, hating that the worst she had done to him since he captured her was attempted to hit him with a book. Why couldn’t she attack him? That way he didn’t have to feel guilty for the pain he had brought upon her.

“This isn’t what you want?”

She gave him a look of confusion. “What do you mean?”

How oblivious did she think he was?

“Right… I must be too daft to notice you trying to break your chain on a regular basis. And I most definitely didn’t catch you trying to bite your way free the other day. I assumed you would try another escape attempt. Good luck.”

He turned uninterestedly back to the cabin, his mind already spinning with a new idea of how he might be able to cure his brother. The Throat of Druxix in the Dohr Mountains… The waters that raged from the cliffs were the purest in all the kingdom, otherwise known as the origin of holy water. The water had no effect on humans but on vampires… It was a dangerous bet, mainly because it wasn’t an easy place to get to. Willow would never go willingly. Could he trick her into coming along?

He scoffed at the idea. She was no fool. He would have to give this some contemplation.

“You’re a gifted artist,” she said out of the blue, making him stop in his tracks. She had read the journal. Somehow, knowing made blood rush up his neck with embarrassment. “You make me look much more beautiful than I am.”

“It’s research!” he blurted, rubbing his earlobe between his fingers—a nervous habit he couldn’t break, not even under duress. “Besides, I haven’t left a vampire alive long enough to sketch them.”

“You’ve left Zachariah alive,” she pointed out.

“That’s…That’s different! He’s not a vampire. He’s…He’s human!”

She bit her lip in a way that told him she didn’t believe a thing he said, and somehow, the action enhanced her natural beauty, an innocence that had no place in her life. He had to look away in frustration. Why couldn’t he have captured an ugly vampire or at least a male?

He had to remind himself again and again that she was a monster. But even he was having a difficult time seeing her this way when she acted like anything but. And the way she tamed the wildness inside his brother… That had been something he’d been trying to do for years with no luck. She managed to do it within moments.

“Red eyes… A thirst for blood… Cold skin… Superhuman strength… It all points in one direction to me. And you claim to be a blood hunter. I thought you were supposed to be the expert.”

“He’ll recover,” he replied stubbornly. “I will find a cure.”

“Uh huh… And if you knew anything important about vampires, you would know there is no—”

Her words were interrupted by a long, chilling howl that cut across the night sky. The sound raised goosebumps on his skin that crawled across his arms and prickled his neck. He glanced at the full moon tonight and cursed his luck. There was one creature capable of making such a deep and chilling sound—werewolf.

He immediately reached over his shoulder and slowly drew his silver sword, his eyes scanning the dark forest beyond the trees. He could hardly see a thing, ironically enough, he relied on Willow’s eyesight instead. She looked beyond terrified as she stared in the direction of the howl. However, she didn’t comment, which more than likely meant she didn’t see anything either.

A howl stretched upward to the full moon again, closer this time. He cursed under his breath and started forward, grasping his silver sword with a practiced hand. It was likely that the werewolf caught his scent and was following the trail to them. But Adam couldn’t let it get that far. He had to protect Zachariah…and Willow.

“Don’t leave me!” she begged. “I’m chained to this blasted tree!”

He clenched his jaw as his sense of duty warred with uncertainty. He didn’t have time to unbind her! If he didn’t follow the sound of the howl, he might lose the trail altogether. It was now or never.

Without looking back, he slipped into the trees.

He was at a considerable disadvantage with his human eyesight, especially in the dark. But it didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust. With quiet feet, he stepped carefully and listened for any indication that the werewolf might be near. Despite their alarming size, werewolves were frighteningly stealthy. He hated them. Almost more than vampires. Almost.

A loud crack sounded to the right of him, making his heart beat faster and his blood pump harder. He swung his sword in that direction, but he found nothing there. Nothing except a large tree branch snapped in half. The werewolf had been here moments before. Where was it now?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, calling upon the magic stored in his blood gem. The gem glowed red hot against his skin. When he opened his eyes, a trail of gray smoke tracked where the beast had gone. The smoke passed right across the branch, but it didn’t stop. It continued on, weaving through the trees, a deep three-claw gash in one of the trunks, and proceeded forward. His heart leaped to his throat, noticing the consistency in the smoky trail. The werewolf was headed right toward his cabin.

A high-pitched scream lifted into the sky and he immediately burst into a sprint.

“Willow!”