“Give my regards to the Devil,” I sneered, bending over one last time. “Make sure he knows that your clan will be joining you shortly.” And with one violent swipe of my clawed hand, I tore at his throat, exposing his jugular to the air. Blood gushed out, and within moments, he was dead.
“Hurry,” Knox urged, having retrieved two horses that had somehow remained despite the melee.
Swinging up into the saddle, I left everything behind and galloped into the darkness, uttering yet another promise I fully intended to honor.
“If she dies, they all die.”
Chapter 12
The scent of blood and carnage hung in the air.
Wiping my hands down the sides of my pant legs, I surveyed the damage Knox and I had delivered.
The justice we had served.
All around us, battered bodies lay where they had fallen—an entire gypsy clan wiped out. Nowhere did I feel an inkling of remorse. They’d brought this destruction down upon their own heads when they dared kidnap Catriona, attacking us as we traveled home.
This was the price of the war we waged—both parties hoping to deal out vengeance.
Nikolai had been one of their kinsfolk, and I’d made sure that his wife and child knew that he’d died quickly by my hand. Had the clan released Catriona into my care, I may have shown them some kind of benevolence and spared at least the children.
But as Knox tore apart their camp site, rifling through caravans and tents, there was no hint that she’d even arrived. When she didn’t respond to our calls—no sign of the beautiful woman who’d changed my entire world for the better—a cold seething began building inside me where all I could see was red.
Knox knew better than to warn me against unleashing the storm that still boiled within my veins. When I had the leader down on his knees—begging for the lives of his family—there was no room for negotiating. Tears fell from his eyes as I vowed to wipe out his lineage before slitting his throat.
I had rained down death with no qualms or hesitancy.
One brave fool had stepped forward with the derisive taunt that Catriona would be defiled and murdered before I could ever hope to reach her. That this vile act was to repay the anguish I’d inflicted by killing their beloved Nikolai.
Over and over, clan members tried bargaining for the lives of others—offering hollow promises that they could somehow produce Catriona, whole and unharmed.
But I saw their words as the lies they were.
From my experience, twisted as it may be, gypsies were a ruthless, amoral group of people that deserved the wrath I was about to rain down on them.
And I had.
Side by side with Knox, we had systematically erased the entire group from existence, tossing their soulless bodies to the side as we made sure there were no survivors.
“She isn’t here,” Knox cried, his voice thick with emotion. He had loved her too—he was her protector from me when I had failed to see her for what she was.
A treasure to be cherished.
A woman who had somehow managed to tame the beast.
“Then we will hunt her kidnappers to the ends of the earth until we find her.” I lashed out to the pot of food hanging over the fire someone had lit. The fragrant stew splashed across the ground, flecks of gravy splattering the lifeless body of the woman responsible for it. “They will all pay for this!”
I stood there, shaking my fists at the sky, and all the bitterness I’d felt over the past decade came flooding back until all I could feel was the vampire nature I’d been cursed with.
Marcus the man had been obliterated, and I didn’t mourn the death of him.
I’d lowered my guard, allowing the light to touch those parts of me, and for what? So someone could come crashing in and steal what was most precious to me—again.
Knox’s hand fell hard on my shoulder, his fingers squeezing in an attempt to comfort. I shrugged him away. There would be no more solace or peace.
“She was mine to protect,” I uttered, slowly regaining my breath. Adrenaline still coursed through my veins, and the bloodlust still stoked my anger. “She was mine, and they took her.”
“We can still catch them,” Knox stated, convinced the odds were still in our favor. He was covered in blood, and judging from the red patch at his side, he was also injured. When I pushed my fingers against the material, he winced.
There was no hiding it.
“You’re in no condition to ride. I will go. You’ll only slow me down.” My foot caught on something, and I looked down to find my boot had snagged a small doll made from rough material—the toy still in the tight grasp of a child.
I couldn’t think about the ramifications, of the people I’d made victims by my rage tonight. Any chink in the armor I now wore would weaken my resolve. Right now, I had one mission . . . one focus. Catriona was still out there, and by all that was holy, I would be her knight in shining armor.
“You need me,” Knox gasped, pain hitting him again, and his stance faltered, his knees threatening to give out under him. “Just get me on my horse.”
I shook my head. “I can’t wait for you, Phineas. Every second we waste here is another second they have her.”
He tried to stop me from walking away, but his own blood loss made him drop to his knees finally. Frustrated that he was now useless, Knox pounded his fist on the ground. A flurry of words coated with resentment and outrage burst from his lips. He was angry—justifiably.
“I will bring back her kidnapper. He will be yours to administer justice to. You have my word.” I extended my arm quickly, clasping his in a warrior-like handshake, slowly pulling him to his feet. “Ride for home. Seek medical help at the next town.” Consumed with a sudden feeling of family, I grabbed him at the back of the head, pressing our foreheads together. “Live for me, my brother. Live for her.”
“Go,” he ushered, waving me on. “Go with God.”
As I swung my leg up and over my new ride, I let out a cynical laugh. “I don’t know about God, but I would be grateful for any kind of divine assistance tonight.”
With one last look as my horse turned in a circle impatiently, I kicked in my heels and spurred the beast onward.
My new enemy had a head start, but I had one thing aiding me that he’d underestimated.
I would never rest until I found her.
I would never rest until I held her safely in my arms.
Chapter 13
One Week Later
My heart hurt.
As in it physically hurt me to arrive home empty-handed.
Despite my most valiant efforts, the one who’d taken my Catriona had disappeared like a thief in the night, and all my attempts at tracking him had failed.
I’d been so cocky and sure that I would find them. Each hour that passed fueled the fantasies I created, where I punished the fool for his audacity in stealing her. She truly was an innocent in all of this—and they’d chosen their target well when he’d taken off with her.
Kill me, and it would end this pitiful existence I endured.
Kill Knox, and it would slow down the search for a cure, but ultimately, he was replaceable. I didn’t like that thought, because Phineas had become more like a brother to me. It wasn’t something I ever acknowledged, but all my beliefs and opinions had been blasted to smithereens now that I’d lost everything.
But to touch her, to defile her virtue, to sully her very body—that was unforgivable.
No matter how hard I rode, or the many villages and towns I stopped at, the results were the same.
No one had seen her or the villain who had stolen her. There were no leads. No witnesses came forward, despite the generous reward I offered for information. I didn’t care how insignificant the news was, either. I was prepared to pay handsomely for a mere glimpse of her.
It had rendered me a desperate man, and that irritated me. What was needed now was force and ruthlessness. Instead, I acted like a panicked, lovesick male who’d lost his mind over a woman.
On and on I rode, chasing shadows until I had to finally admit defeat. I was tired. I was hungry. I had to return to feeding on stragglers late at night as they stumbled home from the local tavern. My impatience made me brutal—my thirst demanding its fill.
Yet, here I was again at Smithersby Field, alone.
Stabling the horse and leaving instructions with the boy I’d hired to care for the beasts, I headed toward the house, but found myself lured to the private glen in the woods.
The headstone seemed to glow beneath the moonlight, an eerie beckoning from the ghost that still haunted me.
Primrose.
It had all begun with her, and now another grave would be dug to hold my beloved Catriona.
It would be a testament to the two women I had failed terribly.
Sinking onto the bench, I buried my face in my hands and wept. Hot tears streaked down my cheeks, clinging for a moment under my chin before falling to the ground. I didn’t bother hiding the raw emotion consuming me.
I felt it—all of it.
“Marcus?”
The sound of my name made me jump with surprise. I hadn’t heard anyone approach, and while my soul rejoiced in hearing Knox speak, it couldn’t extinguish the sorrow that filled me.
My sobs grew louder, and as he wrapped his arms around my shoulder, I let go and fully gave in to my grief.
“I couldn’t find her.” My words came out in ragged breaths, my chest heaving. “I searched. I begged. I threatened, and it was all in vain. I failed her, and by not bringing her home, I have failed you, too.”
He didn’t speak, allowing me to purge the twisted feelings that had been buried inside me for so long. I didn’t bother wiping away my tears. There was no need for masculine pride. When I finally looked up, I instantly saw I wasn’t the only one who was caught up in misery.
His expression was one of absolute solemnness. He knew what it meant for me to bare my soul to him, to expose myself so completely that it would forever change our friendship.
We were no longer master and servant.
We weren’t really friends and comrades either.
We were family.
We were brothers.
All we had seen and experienced had forged an unbreakable bond, and as we fell back into silence, we mourned our loss together.
Eventually the cool air became impossible to ignore, and wiping my face, I let out an exhausted sigh.
“What have I missed in my absence?” Despite what had happened, the estate still required my attention. I hated it, but honoring my responsibilities would give me an outlet until I devised a new plan.
Catriona may very well be dead.
I would add her name to my list of grievances.
Knox reached into his coat and pulled out a sealed letter, handing it to me. “This came a few days ago with the strictest of commands that only you could open and read it.”
“Do you know who it’s from?” I asked, turning over the folded paper and lightly tracing the waxed seal keeping it together. The insignia wasn’t familiar, but that didn’t mean anything. Perhaps it was a petition from the nearby town for aid to make it through the winter. As one of the big houses and estates in the area, people often looked to me for help during the tough season.
I often refused them, or sent them meager supplies, but for Catriona, I would grant whatever they requested. She had changed me. I refused to dishonor her memory.
Cracking the wax, I slowly unfolded the letter, and started reading.
“What does it say?” Knox asked, peering over my shoulder. “Who is it from?”
I couldn’t answer as a lump formed in my throat, hope flaring within my chest. The second I finished the short message, I read it again . . . and again. Over and over as if it would somehow explain itself.
When I couldn’t keep quiet any longer, I crumpled the message in my hand and stood—a new excitement sweeping away my despair.
There was an emotion at the forefront, one I’d assumed I’d never feel again.
Hope.
“Come, we need to pack. I want to be gone within the hour.” I didn’t offer any other explanation, and to Knox’s credit, he acted immediately, following me back to the house.
We each retreated to our bedchambers, throwing clothes into trunks before meeting at the bottom of the grand staircase. I’d already left instructions with the hired help that would stay behind. Even though the message wasn’t from the town, I’d still asked that food from the storehouse be taken to the people there.
“Are you really going to keep me in the dark, Marcus? Where are we going?” Knox threw me an impatient look that warned me should I not include him in the mystery, he would take the letter and read it himself. Forcibly, if needed.
I didn’t answer. I offered him the letter that I’d placed in my pocket.
His lips moved as he silently mouthed the few words contained in the message. Nodding, he met my gaze.
We were united.
We had purpose.
We had a lead.
“Let’s go,” I said. Without a second thought, I walked through the door, unsure whether I’d ever return to my ancestral home, but not caring.
I didn’t know what dangers we might face. The future was as murky as ever, but for the small flicker of hope that now burned within my heart.
I was blood and damnation.
I would finally lay claim to what was mine.
I would become wrath and retribution.
I was Marcus St. James, and in my pocket, I held the key to the answers I was seeking.
Epilogue
One Year Later, 1879
With dust-covered clothes, we arrived at the designated place. I still wasn’t sure why there was a need for all the secrecy, but after traveling this far, there was no way I would be turned from my goals.
Lady Hannah’s note may have been short, but I chose to see it as certainty. This was where she said I would find the answers I was seeking. She was a celebrated seer—someone who was well known within the supernatural community for her accuracy. I’d asked, and she’d responded by using her gifts of foresight.
Glancing about, I was shocked to see that this was where our journey had ended. The rugged wildness of Colorado was breathtaking, and so different from the world I’d left behind in England. I could see why so many were flocking to the Americas—in particular to the land they now called the United States of America. People came in search of freedom, of finding their fortune, of changing the circumstances of their upbringing. The beauty that surrounded Knox and me right now, with majestic mountains and greenery—the fresh air a testament that it remained untouched by civilization—I could see myself joining the others in staking my claim here.
Perhaps if this lead failed to provide the answers I was seeking, Knox and I could remain and see where a new life might take us. No one would know us here. No one would know me. It could be a fresh start for a monster like me.
“Are you sure this is where we were to meet our contact?” Knox murmured, scanning the area, looking to see if anyone approached.
I nodded, remembering the conversation we’d last had at the town miles away. After a week of asking around, of trying to find anyone who knew about the town Lady Hannah had named on the paper she’d sent, we’d almost given up and moved on.
Why would she send us on a wild goose chase across the ocean to a place that people had never heard about? Did such a town even exist?
Finally, after we finished our evening meal, a stranger approached us in the saloon where we were staying, discreetly asking us to follow him outside. Once we were out in the alleyway, he’d asked us about our queries, not once giving away whether he held the answers we needed or not.
If anything, the idea of being there in that alleyway—another one in another time and place—had given me the sense of coming full circle. Knox felt the same wariness, never once taking his hand off the concealed knife that he had strapped to his thigh. Desperation wasn’t an
excuse to lower our guards. We hadn’t come this far to meet our end in the Colorado mountains.
The stranger had listened, and then with a sweeping look, told us to await further instructions. Sure enough, early this morning, I found a note slid under the door of our room with the directions for a secret meeting.
“We’ve come this far. Let’s see what happens next,” I replied, licking my lips nervously. There was a weariness about Knox, his expression tired from the constant traveling. I was grateful for his company, happy that he was standing here beside me.
There was a crunching sound that told us immediately that we weren’t alone.
“Be on guard,” I uttered beneath my breath. Knox touched the side of his leg, where the large knife was. I readied myself in case this was an ambush. If there was one thing I’d learned from my experiences with the gypsies I’d met, it was that it was deadly to walk into a situation unprepared.
“There will be no need for violence,” a deep voice spoke. A second later, a tall man appeared—one whose demeanor screamed authority. Whoever he was, he was a leader. “I called for this meeting so we could talk, not fight.”
I assessed him quickly—was he friend or foe?
He was neatly dressed with his dark hair slicked back. There was a small scar under his left eye—which was the darkest blue I’d ever seen. Sizing him up, I stepped toward him.
“My name is Marcus St. James, and this is my companion, Phineas Knox.” We both bowed our heads with respect, hoping that it would work in our favor.
I wasn’t the only one sizing people up. He gave me another once over and nodded. “My name is Roman Bishop. I understand you’ve been asking questions about my town.” There was a strong sense of pride as he spoke. “I hope you understand that I’m protective of the people I lead. I can’t let just anyone into our home.”
He definitely gave off a no-nonsense attitude. I knew it would work against us if I was completely honest and told him I was here on a mission of revenge. Half-truths would have to be enough for right now.
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