by Anne, Meg
Lucas considered. “Possibly. Maybe we head to town, do some canvassing and see if we can find anything to lead us back to him?”
“Seems like a good plan,” Matthews agreed. “But you need some sleep. You can’t live on coffee alone, and by my guess, you haven’t slept since you almost drank yourself into a coma two days ago.”
“I’m fine.”
“You aren’t going to be any good to her if you can’t stand on your own feet,” Matthews argued.
“Ye need to rest so ye can access yer magic when necessary,” Giles agreed.
“Thought you were all about tracking her magically?” Lucas shot at the old man.
“Ye obviously aren’t up for it.”
The words cut deep, and Lucas scowled.
Ignoring him, Giles continued, “We need to get our Seer back, so if that means we do it yer way, then that’s fine by me. I’ll work on translatin’ the rest of the book.”
He turned and left the kitchen, and Lucas watched him take a seat on the couch.
“Go get some sleep.” Lizzie kissed his cheek, and she and Matthews headed down the hall toward the study.
Resigned, Lucas made his way to his bedroom. It seemed so empty without Skye, as if she were the color in his world, and without her, things had gone dark.
Why the hell should he be sleeping when she was quite possibly fighting for her life right now? In what world was that acceptable?
He plopped back on the mattress, his head hitting a pillow that still smelled like her, and closed his eyes.
“Skye,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Where the hell are you?”
Lucas opened his eyes and rolled over in the dark. His hand brushed bare skin, and he shot out of bed, crossing the room to hit the light switch.
“Skye?” he asked, hope and disbelief thickening his voice as his eyes adjusted.
“Lucas?”
Her amber eyes had lost some of their fire and were surrounded by dark circles. He walked back over to their bed slowly and brushed a strand of dark hair from her face.
“You okay?”
“I am now,” she whispered, her voice strained. “I miss you.”
“But I’m right here.”
“Kiss me.” She sat up.
She was fully dressed, unlike in his last dream. Her shirt was torn, and it was the same outfit she’d been wearing when he’d last seen her at the cottage.
Lucas knelt beside her on the bed and cupped her face. He caressed her cheeks with his thumb, wiping away fat tears.
“Why are you crying?”
“Please just kiss me,” she begged, tilting her head up toward him. Not one to deny a request like that, especially from her, Lucas pressed his lips to hers. The saltiness of her tears made this dream more real than any of his others. Could you even taste something in a dream?
“Skye,” he whispered against her mouth, shifting to move onto the bed beside her.
Angling his body over hers, he pressed against her and poured every ounce of love he had for her into his kiss. She groaned and arched up into him. Lucas ran his hands through her soft hair, letting himself forget that he was only dreaming. Here, at least, she was still his, and he had no intention of letting an opportunity to show her how much he loved her slip through his fingers.
He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. Hot breath hit his face, adding yet another layer of reality to this dream. He’d take all he could where she was concerned. Seeing her, even if only in his sleep, was the only thing keeping him going.
“I don’t know how to find you,” he confessed, his voice tortured.
“I’m right here,” she insisted as she lifted her face back to his.
He kissed her again, tasting the faintest hint of copper. Pulling back, he brushed his thumb over her lips. When he drew his hand away, his thumb was smeared with blood.
Lucas rolled off of her and watched in growing horror as her eyes rolled back in her head.
“Skye?”
He shook her, but she didn’t say a word. Instead, her body convulsed, and Lucas rolled her onto her side as more blood leaked out from the corner of her mouth.
“Skye!”
She began to fade away, and Lucas tried to wrap his arms around her, to keep her here with him, but she was already gone.
Lucas hit the floor with a thud and sat up so abruptly spots appeared in his vision. What the fuck was that?
Jumping to his feet, Lucas ran into the living room and let out a breath of relief to see Giles, still sitting on the couch, black book in his lap.
“What has ye in a huff?” the old man asked, looking up through round glasses.
“I want to work more on tracking magic. I think Skye might be in trouble.”
“If she’s with the Druid, ye can bet yer arse she’s in trouble.”
Chapter 7
Skye
Skye rolled over and emptied the contents of her stomach. Which, at the moment, were nothing but stale bread and water. Not that it did anything to lessen the painful cramping in her abdomen as she heaved. When there was nothing left, Skye sat back against the wall and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Ouch!” Pain shot through her hand and radiated up through her arm. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Her arm no longer looked broken and wasn’t hanging limply from her shoulder. So, why does it hurt? Twisting it around, she continued to inspect it. There was no bruising or swelling that she could see, and when she tried to flex it, her arm responded. Still, it sure as hell felt broken.
Fucking asshole. So, what? He’d healed her but left the pain? What a fucking prince.
She cradled her arm against her chest and leaned back, closing her eyes. Lucas swam back into her vision, sending tears spilling down her cheeks.
The dream had felt so real. She’d been able to feel Lucas’ warm breath against her skin, and the heat of his hands as they cupped her face so tenderly.
Why did I leave the damn note? Why couldn’t I have just gone with them that day? I could’ve read the journals once we’d gotten back!
Lucas would have come for her if only she’d trusted in what they had, and in what they could have been. Instead, Skye had allowed fear to rule her. She’d believed she was doing Lucas a favor by removing herself from the equation, but all she’d done was ensure the vision she’d Seen would come to be.
Letting out a frustrated breath, Skye squeezed her eyes closed. She knew better. Her visions always came true. Why had she been so sure that leaving would have changed anything?
“So stupid,” she muttered in a barely audible voice.
Now, she was going to die, and the Druid would use her death to destroy the man she loved. Leaving hadn’t changed a damn thing.
Skye whimpered. Her entire body ached as if she’d been hit by a truck, which she guessed was a fairly accurate description of what had happened to her. How was she supposed to fight for her life when the bastard kept attacking her until she was unconscious?
There was no way for Skye to fight back. For the first time in her life, she was utterly and completely helpless, and the bastard fucking knew it. Not only did he know it, he exploited it.
Light streamed in through the dirty windows, and Skye glanced around her room. The Druid had been busy. Not only had he healed her, but nearly every wall of her prison was now covered in runes she didn’t recognize.
There was a scuffle on the other side of the room, and Skye twisted her head to the side. She wasn’t alone.
The Druid’s black soulless eyes landed on her face. “Good, you’re awake.”
Skye looked away as he knelt before her and trailed a long finger along her jaw.
“Tell me, Seer, what do you dream of?”
Skye jerked her head away from his unwanted caress, but he gripped her jaw and pulled her back to him, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“None of your business,” she snapped.
Her dreams were the one thing that were still hers and hers alone. At least for now. She
wasn’t about to grant him access to that final piece of her soul.
“You’re a tough one, I’ll give you that. But still… I’m curious.” His fingers left her face and trailed down her throat toward her chest. “You really do make the sweetest sounds when you sleep.”
He continued moving his fingers over the swell of her breasts, and Skye closed her eyes as angry tears slipped out from the corners.
“Do you dream of him?”
Skye clenched her jaw, bile rising in her throat. I wish I could puke on demand. Maybe then he’d think twice before touching me.
“I bet you do,” the Druid continued, musing as he rose to his feet and moved over to the folding chair in the center of the room.
Hearing the soft whisper of his footsteps against the brick, and feeling the oppressive weight of his presence fade, Skye let her eyes open and turned her attention back to the rune-decorated walls.
“Admiring my work, Seer?”
Unable to contain her curiosity, Skye reluctantly asked, “What is it?”
The Druid clicked his tongue. “I’ll share my secrets when you start to share yours.”
When Skye remained silent, despite his probing stare, he sighed and got to his feet again. She tracked his movement as he walked to one of the walls. After dipping his finger into what looked like red paint, he began drawing more symbols on the bricks.
“I have plans, Seer. Big plans that involve getting that pathetic grandson of mine out of the way.”
“Why? Why can’t you just leave him the fuck alone?”
He turned to face her, his eyebrows lifted in a poor imitation of sincere confusion. “If I do that, how will I ever achieve my goals? My future depends on my draining every drop of blood from both him and his sister. The other one I’ll play with just for fun. It’s the least I can do to the annoying little pest for sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Skye’s chain rattled as she began shaking with rage. “You’re a fucking monster.”
He shrugged. “You see me as a monster, but I believe visionary is a more apt description.”
“Fuck you and your logic. Visionaries don’t slaughter innocent people.”
“Don’t they? I can think of a handful off the top of my head.” The Druid laughed and shook his head. “And what of you, darling Seer? How many innocent lives were snuffed out because you never informed them of their fates? Is that not the same as you condemning them to their deaths?”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?” He tilted his head before his lips curled into a cruel smile. “I’m not sure I agree. Seems to me you might as well have been the one holding the metaphorical scissors that cut the threads of their lives.”
To hear her darkest fears spoken out loud by the most depraved being she’d ever met cut more deeply than she’d ever admit. Even still, Skye managed to lift her chin and snarl, “I saved Lizzie from you.”
He laughed, a deep belly laugh that rolled through the empty room like thunder. “Oh Seer, you merely delayed my plans. Besides, sparing the life of one does nothing to absolve you from the others.”
Still chuckling as if Skye was the most amusing little toy he’d ever played with, the Druid returned to his runes. Once he finished, he made his way back to the folding chair. He sat in it as if it were a throne, and this old warehouse his castle.
Her lip curled with disgust. She hated how entitled he acted, as if he owned everything and everyone. Just wait until your grandson finds you, you miserable bastard, and you’ll see just how wrong you are.
“Since you seem to want to talk today, how about you tell me what amria means?”
Defiance was her only weapon against him. Even though it was futile, Skye let her voice drop to her most threatening whisper. “Even if I knew, I would never tell you.”
The Druid’s obsidian eyes narrowed. “Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” he hissed. “How many times I can break every single bone in your body, then repair them to start again? You are a blank canvas for me, Seer.”
He rose to his feet, and Skye plastered her back against the wall, hot tears already slipping down her cheeks. She turned her head away, refusing to look at him. It was a defensive move more than a spiteful one, Skye didn’t want him to see how much his threat terrified her.
“You will answer every single question I have or I will make you beg for death. In fact, the idea of you begging for anything thrills me so much I might have to do it anyway.”
Skye’s breaths came out in ragged gasps as her heart began to pound. She braced herself for whatever fresh hell he was about to unleash.
The Druid knelt before her and tore her shirt the rest of the way so it hung in two halves, baring the red bra beneath.
She squeezed her eyes shut as his hot breath fanned her face.
“How about we try that again?” he purred in her ear.
“I. Don’t. Know,” she gritted out, her tears stripping her of any remaining shred of dignity.
He leaned forward and licked away one of the salty drops. “Such beautiful tears,” he crooned, then he sighed and pushed to his feet. “Why do you make me hurt you, Skye? Do you not see how much easier this would be for you if you would only cooperate?”
Without waiting for an answer, in one lightning fast move, he lifted his knee up to his chest and slammed his booted foot down on her face.
There was a crack as her jaw bone shattered, and Skye let out a garbled scream as agony ripped through her. “Please! I don’t know!”
Or at least that’s what she tried to say. The words were barely recognizable as they left her lips. Apparently, the Druid had no trouble understanding her; he must be fluent in torture victim.
“Lies!” he yelled, and kicked her again, this time in the ribs. Bones snapped beneath his booted foot, and her vision swam.
Skye rolled to the side and, for a moment, there was no pain. In the corner of the room, Lucas stood, eyes blazing like twin beacons calling her home.
She reached for him, and the rest of the world faded away.
When Skye came to, night had fallen. Her body ached, but the bones that the Druid broke were once again healed. It was impossible to tell how long she had been out this time; it could have been hours or days.
The Druid stood with his back to her, painting more runes on the wall. A large bundle near his feet drew her attention. She gasped as she met the wide eyes of a man who’d been bound and gagged.
“Your passing out is getting tedious,” the Druid told her without turning around. “It’s wasting valuable time.”
“I’m sorry to be such an inconvenience,” she snapped.
“You won’t be for much longer. I’m nearly ready for my family reunion.”
Skye’s eyes widened. How long had she been out?
“I went ahead and picked up my last ingredient while you were sleeping,” he said almost conversationally. Turning slightly, he kicked the man, who let out a muffled grunt.
“What do you need him for when you have me?”
The Druid laughed. “Your death will be my grand finale, Seer. He is merely the appetizer.”
Horrified, Skye stared into the man’s pleading brown eyes. It was bad enough taking the brunt of the psychopath’s sadistic tendencies, but it was infinitely worse having to watch it happen to someone else.
“Please just let him go. Use me instead,” she begged.
The Druid spared her a glance. “I find it very interesting that you are so eager to give up your life for that of a stranger.”
“He’s innocent.”
“Is he?” The Druid’s eyes shifted to the man at his feet. “You sure about that?”
Skye stared at him, then back down at the man. “He doesn’t deserve to die.”
“You seem awfully certain of his innocence. How do you know he’s never done anything to deserve this?”
“No one deserves to be slaughtered.”
“You really ought to be more thankful, Seer. This one’
s death is a gift. It will give you a chance to see my grandson one last time.” Lifting the man by his arms, the Druid dragged him toward the north most wall.
“No!” Skye screamed.
The Druid closed his eyes and began chanting over the man’s body. He reached down with a blade and cut the man’s hands free, pressing one of them against a rune.
“Stop!” Skye screamed. “Let him go!”
The man squirmed, desperate to get free. Even from her perch on the floor, Skye saw the whites of his eyes as he stared at her in total panic. He reminded her of a terrified bunny staring down the barrel of a hunter’s gun. At the sound of his muffled screams, Skye struggled to push to her feet, desperate to help him.
The Druid was completely oblivious, wholly focused on whatever dark ritual he was performing. He held his captive against the wall and continued to chant.
The man’s screams grew more frantic, and Skye’s stomach rolled as the stench of burning flesh filled the room. His arm caught fire first, and Skye watched in horror as the rest of his body quickly followed, turning him into a pillar of dancing flame.
Skye screamed and begged for the Druid to spare the man’s life, but the bastard studied her, a small smile playing about his lips. Whatever else the Druid was up to, this was very much a show for her benefit. He wanted her to watch, to see what fate awaited her once he finally decided she’d outlived her usefulness. Skye bit down on her lip, trying to contain her screams as she realized how much he enjoyed them.
After the man crumpled to the ground, nothing more than a smoldering heap of ash and bone, the Druid stepped toward her.
Skye pushed herself back against the wall as best she could and curled her legs against her chest. “Why did you do that?”
He knelt before her and pulled a sharp blade from his robe. “Great power requires great sacrifice, Skye.”
Eyes wide, Skye stared at the blade, instantly recognizing it from her vision. Despite knowing she was completely powerless, she was still determined to fight for her life. She lifted her eyes from the blade and back to his sneering grin.