Chapter 15

Willow paced back and forth, continually glancing toward Adam’s open door, though she couldn’t see inside from her vantage point. He had been in there for far too long, and she would have thought him dead if she didn’t hear his ragged breathing with her keen ears. The blood hunter was in bad shape, and she was surprised, and even shocked, he had come to her rescue in the first place with a wound like his.

Her sunlight wounds had already begun to heal, but she was more worried for Adam at the moment.

She sniffed the air for the hundredth time, searching for a scent that would indicate his transformation, but she found nothing but perhaps a few werewolf hairs on his clothing. He hadn’t been infected. But how? With a wound like his, he was lucky to be alive, let alone still human. Were blood hunters immune to werewolves? If they were, did it mean they were immune to vampires as well? She almost regretted not biting him the other night, if only to see if he could be infected by her.

Biting her nails, she sat in the cushioned chair beside the hearth, one hand still bound while the other was free. Last night had felt like a hazy dream. Her carnal instincts had taken over, and she hated to admit it, but she was glad he’d secured her to the tree. She didn’t know what would have happened if she had been free instead. She surely would have lost control, perhaps killing him before moving on to other powerless victims.

To her own surprise, she didn’t want to kill him. She actually…liked him. Not the parts that had tortured her, but the more essential elements such as the love he held for his brother, or his protectiveness, whether he meant it or didn’t realize he was doing it.

And that didn’t mention her admiration of his artistic skills, the way he posed as a challenge to her at every turn, or his handsome features… Finally, she had met a man that sparked something inside of her that would be safer to lock away.

She pinched the bridge of her nose while squeezing her eyes shut. If her father ever found out what she was thinking, he’d be disappointed in her. A blood hunter? She wasn’t allowed to fall for a blood hunter, no matter how deranged her mind might be.

In fact, it would do her good to bury her budding feelings before they became her downfall. Adam was her enemy, and he always would be. Just because he hadn’t tortured her in a few days didn’t change anything at all.

Once again, she glanced at his open door and frowned. He had been sleeping for hours!

She moved toward the door, but the chain became taut when she reached her limited distance.

The chain made a clinking sound, and her ears detected movement in the other room. Adam’s breathing hitched before he held his breath as if tensing for an attack.

“Why are you still keeping me here?” she asked, knowing he was now awake. “Answer me honestly—I want to stop gnawing at my nails. What are you planning to do with me?”

He released the breath she had heard him hold, followed by a faint groan. Moments later, he appeared in the doorway, his hair disheveled and eyes groggy, but that wasn’t what held her attention as her eyes raked down his body. His shirt was off, allowing her to see what years of being a blood hunter had done to him.

He was covered in scars, some small and some large, including the ones from the werewolf that were still healing. He noticed her staring and pulled a loose shirt over his head, acting like there weren’t dozens of scars hiding underneath.

She swallowed hard, an unexpected emotion overcoming her—sorrow. What, exactly, had he endured? What made him into the hardened man he was now? Could anything break the wall he had built around himself? Could she? More importantly, did she want to?

“No more elixirs,” he answered tiredly. “We’ll leave tomorrow, bright and early.”

“Where are we going?”

He shrugged and slumped into the chair at his desk, beginning to scribble on a worn piece of parchment. “Nowhere you need to concern yourself with.”

She crossed her arms stubbornly. “You know, I’m actually quite a reasonable vampire. If you ask nicely, I might be willing to help you, free of charge, no strings attached. Especially not this one.” She lifted the vodryx chain with a grimace.

He continued to scribble. “You don’t even know what I’m planning.”

“I do…” she replied hesitantly. She assumed it had something to do with coaxing the feralness from Zachariah, but now she started to second guess herself. And it didn’t help that she couldn’t read what was going on in his mind from his lack of facial expressions. “You still need me for something. And at this point, I don’t think you’re planning on killing me.”

“No?” he asked, raising an eyebrow without looking up. “I used a good amount of magic from my blood gem last night, and I need to restore it with something. Your soul will do.”

She chuckled nervously, unsure whether he was serious or if he had an overly dry sense of humor. She hoped for the latter.

The vodryx chain reached far enough for her to saunter toward Adam, smiling coyly when she thought he was watching her from the corner of his eye. She sat on the edge of his desk, watching his body tense and his hand moved closer to his dagger. She made him uncomfortable. And for a good reason too. She had to ignore the memory of the delicious aroma of his blood. She had to remain in control. Besides, something told her if she tried to attack the blood hunter without her full strength, she wouldn’t get far.

“What are you working on?” she asked, raking her fingers through her hair as she eyed his drawing. It was a map, but she was more interested in watching him squirm uncomfortably at her nearness. She was tempted to show off her fangs, but she decided she didn’t want him to threaten her with the tip of a sword again.

“Nothing,” he muttered.

“It doesn’t look like nothing. Is that the Western Province? Even more impressive, are you drawing from memory?”

“I don’t want to get lost. Besides, bandits like to camp in this area,” he pointed to a wooded section he had included on the map, “and I don’t want to run into any if we don’t have to. And right here is a deep ravine that helps protect the city from invaders. We only have one shot at the bridge. If we stray off course, it could take days to correct our path.”

“Mhmm,” she nodded, casually leaning closer and smirking when he didn’t move away. She risked brushing her hand against his as she moved to point to a clump of ink in the righthand corner of the page. “And what is this right here?”

He pulled his hand away, not realizing she was teasing him. It was entertaining to witness his discomfort and awkwardness toward her teasing advances.

“Giants,” he answered, circling the rocky formation with his finger. “They have a habit of stacking large boulders to create a fortification of sorts. Not the brightest bunch. In fact, they tend to copy humans, attempting to make civilizations similar to ours…”

He trailed off as her fingers brushed against his shoulder. Although he didn’t attack her, he certainly gave her a start when he jumped out of his chair, fidgeting with his earlobe with one hand while brushing all his loose papers into a pile on the desk with the other, keeping the empty chair between them. She could have laughed out loud at his reaction to her touch, but it hadn’t been one she was expecting.

She wasn’t sure how to respond. Yes, she had expected him to threaten her with one of his hundreds of weapons, but she definitely hadn’t expected him to act nervous, pretending like it hadn’t happened.

She frowned as she realized this was the first time he’d spoken to her about one of his interests for an extended amount of time. She wanted to hear more of what he had to say, but she was afraid she ruined it by teasing him. He wouldn’t talk now. That she was sure of.

“I’m busy,” he mumbled without looking at her. “I would appreciate it if you left me alone in peace.”

“Fine,” she replied dramatically as she moved away from the desk. “Though I would at least appreciate you giving me animal blood if you’re going to be stubborn about not feeding me. At least it’s something. And your poor brother. I’m sure he would kill to have a little fresh air.”

He slammed his hand on the table, glaring at her. “Don’t bring Zachariah into this.”

“I will!” she argued back. “He is as much my kin as he is yours. I can teach him to control his hunger. He won’t be a threat to your precious humans if you just let me help! He’s been feral for a long time. If you keep this up, he may not be able to come back from it, and he’ll stay feral for the rest of his life!”

“Do you think it was me who built the cage around him?” he shouted. “Zachariah never wanted this. He doesn’t want to be a blood-thirsty monster!”

She stood straight, still much shorter than he was as she poked him repeatedly in the chest as if to prove her point. “Twelve years ago, maybe. But if you ask me, now he just wants a chance to live his life. You need to let it go and accept him for what he is!”

He shook his head, scowling. “No.”

It was a single word, but it was clear he was unwilling to bend. Not even for something, or someone, he loved.

“All you are doing is depriving both of you of something precious,” she replied quietly. “Someday you will realize you made a big mistake.”

That was the end of the conversation, but it did nothing to quell the tense atmosphere between them as he furiously scribbled on his map and she buried herself in his books. She had never met a more stubborn man. The troublesome man wouldn’t move for an arrow if he were convinced it was only a fish.

She was furious. Zachariah deserved better than this.

She flipped through the next page of the book, not paying attention to what it said, and concealed her grin when something dawned on her. The vodryx chain could be broken. Almost sawing the tree in half told her that much. As soon as he left the room, she would make a break for it, and she would take Zachariah with her.

****

The tension between him and Willow was doing things to his mind. It was anger. It was an annoyance. But it was also…something else. It brought him to the unfortunate reality he was forced to face, he liked the vampire. Daggers! He liked her. And he hated her for it. Which spurred his feelings more, making him feel hot around the neck. He needed to leave if only to get fresh air.

“I’m going out,” he muttered, pushing away from the desk and striding toward the front door.

“Bring me back a human while you’re gone,” Willow called after him. “Preferably one killed recently and still has warm blood.”

“Bah!” he threw up a hand in frustration before exiting the cabin. Although he knew she was only goading him, it still frustrated him. Her diet was atrocious. Not in his house! That was where he put his foot down.

A cool breeze brushed against his skin, helping to ease some of the tension inside of him. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, and with it, he tried to let go of his attraction to her. She was a bloody vampire! And Dracula’s daughter to boot. Plus, she hated him for everything he had put her through. It didn’t matter that she had a pretty face. It didn’t matter that she drove him absolutely insane.

And it didn’t matter that he had enjoyed the way she had brushed his fingers and caressed his shoulder. The sooner they made it to the Throat of Druxix, the better. And while he was at it, he thought it best to hire a chaperone to travel with them the rest of the way. He didn’t want to end up doing something stupid.

He took in another deep breath and pushed his conflicting thoughts away. If he remembered correctly, he was thoroughly out of wolfsbane. There should be a patch of the herb growing a little way to the east. Though, he’d better hurry. The sun was sinking, and he’d soon be without light.

Despite wearing a loose shirt to avoid agitating his wounds, the light cloth still managed to brush against the ghastly scabs, creating a burning sensation that made his breath hitch. It was going to be a long week.

The sunset looked beautiful as it cast rays of gold, orange, and red through the trees’ boughs. Branches swayed lightly in the breeze as if welcoming the last few minutes of sun before the moon took its place in the sky. He smiled wistfully at the memories of before the vampire attack, of the times when his family still lived. He had wanted to be a painter back then, and despite many townsfolk telling him that a painter was no job for a man, his family encouraged him. Especially Zachariah.

One day, after a terrible storm had left pockets of muddy water scattered throughout the village, the sun had peeked through the clouds, and he had ventured outside to finish the painting he had started several days before. A few vile village boys had stepped in his path and had thrown his painting into the muddy water, laughing as they went on their way. It was Zachariah who had fished his picture out and brushed it off, handing it back to him with a smile.

“They will only be bakers and carpenters,” Zachariah had said in his boyish voice, about thirteen years old at the time, “but you will be something greater. Someday, you will be the most famous painter in all the kingdom, and I’ll be the strongest soldier. Just you wait.”

His heart ached at the memory. Zachariah had been the bravest, most kind-hearted person he knew. He’d had such innocent dreams of becoming a soldier in the emperor’s army, someday aspiring to become a captain. But fate had dealt them a different hand when the vampires attacked. Now Zachariah could never become a soldier, and he would always be a blood hunter.

Guilt crept into his heart at the thought of his brother, held captive in a cell made of vodryx. For years, he’d tried to find a cure for vampirism. But it wasn’t until recently that Zachariah had become extremely unstable. He’d been desperate to find a cure—desperate enough to capture Dracula’s only daughter, it would seem.

He perked up when he found thick blue-green petals protruding from the forest floor. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to replenish his empty stash of wolfsbane.

Taking his knife from his belt, he crouched low to shear the herb from the plant, wincing as the movement pulled on his wound. But he breathed in deeply through his nose and ignored the pain.

“That should be enough,” he muttered to himself as he tucked the herb into his belt and started back toward the cabin. He had to ready his horse for the journey ahead, not to mention pack only the essentials, wolfsbane included. He’d rather not take any chances. The herb was coming with him, whether or not he would need it.

He walked through the cabin door and froze in his tracks as he met Willow’s wide, surprised, terrified eyes.

She had escaped her bonds.

He glanced from the vodryx chain lying on the floor and back to her. He didn’t know how she escaped, but he wasn’t about to let her go without a fight.

He knew she wasn’t a fighter, which was why it took him by complete surprise when she charged at him. He stood dumbfounded for a moment, unsure what to do because he didn’t want to hurt her, but he still couldn’t allow her to escape.

His hesitance gave her the opportunity to ram into him, slamming them both against the wall, splintering the wood. The wounds in his side burned, and his head spun.

All right, now he was angry.

He tried to grapple with her if only just to get her off of him. However, no matter how much he struggled against her, her strength far outmatched his by at least a thousand times.

Willow wasn’t just trying to hurt him. She was trying to kill him.

With nimble fingers, she lashed out at him, her sharp fingernails would have lacerated his skin if he hadn’t had the quick reflexes of a blood hunter, dodging his head to the side in time for them to cut through the wood instead. Again, he used all his might to try and throw her off him, but it was hopeless. Her fangs sprouted from her mouth and his blood pulsed with terror. He reacted on instinct, his blood gem glowing red as the magic inside lent him the strength to push her away and then some.

She stumbled backward and crashed into the adjacent wall, knocking one of his dull, decorative swords to the ground. By the time she recovered from the blow, he was on his feet and ready to counter. He reached for his knife and…

And it wasn’t there.

She grinned, holding his knife at the ready. Her stance was amateur at best, but it didn’t matter when she had the strength and speed of a centuries-old vampire, and he had nothing but his blood gem to offer him aid. This fight didn’t look good for him.

She charged again, and they found themselves grappling, he was now able to match her strength with the magic from the blood gem. He gritted his teeth against the effort it took to hold her at bay, his feet sliding ungracefully against the floor as she outmatched him.

He grunted with the energy and pulled more magic from the gem. A burst shot through him, and he slammed her against the floor, shaking the entire cabin with the impact. He hated to use magic if he didn’t have to, but this time he had no choice.

Magic flowed into his fist, and he pulled back his elbow, preparing to strike. When he lashed out, she rolled out of the way, and his fist punched through solid wood, cracking easily beneath his powerful attack. He didn’t feel the painful aftereffects—the blood gem took care of that for him.

Faster than he ever thought possible, she rounded on him, attacking with her foot. The powerful kick smashed into his chest and sent him tumbling backward into his desk, one of the legs cracking as he hit. His favorite table! Now he was outraged.

He got to his feet in time for her to slash at him with Zachariah’s dagger and he dodged backward, again and again, the tip of the knife a hair’s breadth away. On the last slash, the blade cut through his shirt, and the next move might have cut his skin if he didn’t throw himself to the ground, rolling on his shoulder while at the same time grabbing the fallen decorative sword by the hilt and rolling back onto his feet.

He swung the weapon with all his might, but her reflexes were much too quick for him. She clapped the flat ends of the blade between her palms, halting it right in its tracks. No human could ever complete such a feat. Daggers, even a blood hunter would have trouble stopping such a risky attack. He gaped at her, forgetting that at the moment, she was the enemy. She stopped a sword! With her hands!

With a single forceful yank, the sword flew from his hands, leaving him weaponless once again. It was his fault. He never should have let his guard down around the vampire. They were tricky, conniving creatures.

She assailed him, smashing a hand upward into his jaw, which would have no doubt broken it if he hadn’t tipped his chin to the side, her hand clipping him. It would leave a bruise. Better than a broken jaw.

The fight raged on, and he was only able to take her without a weapon by calling upon his blood gem. He couldn’t get a good hit on her. She was too fast. And too strong. Winning the fight through fair and honest means would be difficult. That meant he needed to step up his game and use her weaknesses against her.

He turned and ran to the other side of the room, leaping over a chair before grabbing a pouch full of salt. Although she tried to attack him before he could use it, she wasn’t quite fast enough to reach him in time. He threw handfuls of salt at her, her shrieks filling the cabin like a steaming kettle of water unable to stand the heat.

She flinched with each handful he threw, getting closer and closer to her in her burning distraction. She flinched for the last time, and he charged, using his blood gem to give him the strength to wrench Zachariah’s knife from her hands and pin her forcefully against the wall.

They both breathed heavily from the exertion of the fight. He held the steel dagger at her throat while she stared back at him defiantly. Her eyes were still green. She was in control. He had to kill her now before her bloodlust took control. Now that she knew how to escape the vodryx chain, what would stop her from trying to kill him again if he kept her prisoner? He needed to kill her.

It would be a devastating loss because he was sure she was the key to saving his brother from vampirism. But she was too dangerous. He should have killed her during their first fight in Lakefalls. It would have saved him a significant amount of trouble—and magic—in the long run.

However, as he held the dagger to her throat, he realized he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill her. She was a vampire. He was a human—a blood hunter. And despite their differences, he’d come to care for her, to admire her strength of character, her passion for life, and he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t completely ensnared by her beauty.

The red glow from his blood gem flickered out, and the dagger fell from his fingers, dropping to the floor.

She looked confused for a moment, her guard lowering in the slightest as she gazed back at him with those wide, green eyes of hers. She looked sweet and innocent right then, despite nearly killing him. At that moment, she wasn’t a monster, but an intelligent being with thoughts and feelings. He should have walked away. He should have turned away and walked right out the door. But his enraged passion turned into something else.

He felt powerless to stop himself as he kissed her, and she let him. More than that, she responded with the same fiery passion flickering in him.

He pinned Willow against the wall as the kiss deepened, his passion flaring. All reasoning shut off. It didn’t matter that she was a vampire—in fact, the thought hardly crossed his mind at all. All he could think about was that she was beautiful, that his skin felt on fire wherever she touched him, that her lips stirred embers to life inside him, and he didn’t even try to keep the flames at bay.

Taking him by surprise, she jumped and straddled her legs around his waist, causing him to stumble backward and smash against the wall, but both of them were undeterred. Even the burning in his side didn’t thwart him. He liked the way she tangled her fingers through his hair, the way she breathed heavily as they kissed as if still recovering from the fight. And he couldn’t deny he liked how her body felt pressed against his.

He knew what was about to happen and he was powerless to stop it. He wanted this—enough for all rhyme or reason to flee from his mind as he kissed her with the ferocity of a thousand storms. His feet moved on their own accord as he stumbled toward his bedroom, scattered the salt lying across the floor, and opened the door to let them in. If this wasn’t inviting her inside, he wasn’t sure what was.

It looked as if there was no use hiring a chaperone. He was about to do something stupid anyway.