by E. S. Carter
Icy blue eyes meet mine with an intensity that makes me shiver.
“You’re right, Princess. Children are sacred; their innocence deserves protection. Even a monster like me, one who takes what he wants, who kills without remorse and who enjoys inflicting pain, has limits. Children are my hard limit. Those who prey on them are not monsters; they are scum sucking vermin who have no place on this earth.”
I watch the shutters go down behind his intense stare, watch as the fervour of his words cools on his tongue. He didn’t mean to share so much, didn’t mean to confess those thoughts to me, but he did.
With more force than necessary, he releases his grip and discards me. I fall back to the bed and frantically grab at the sheets to once again cover my skin, all the while watching him as he paces across the room to stare out at the sunlight.
The image of him bathed in the warmth of the sun is a direct contradiction to who Cole really is.
He is all soft lines and warm beauty. The sun filtering through his golden hair creates a halo of light that should only be worthy of angels.
Not devils.
If not for my gift, I wouldn’t be aware of the acrid looking smoke that engulfs him all but repelling the sun’s rays.
I watch fascinated by the contradiction of Cole Hunter.
An evil encased in a beauty so intense it steals your breath.
“Get dressed, Faye. There is much to be done today, and I’ve grown tired of babysitting you.”
He throws his words at me like sharp knives; all the while he remains staring outdoors.
I want to disobey, to stay exactly where I am and see how far I can push him but the reality is, I’m naked with only a sheet around my bare body. Ignoring the chance to dress and possibly be away from his presence is sheer foolishness for the sake of disobedience.
So I quietly get off the bed and tightly wrap the sheet around my breasts, stumbling slightly when the vast swathes of cotton wrap around my feet.
“I have no clothes, only my wedding dress.”
His eyes briefly flick my way when he answers, “The closet is fully stocked. Go and clean yourself up, I’ll be back for you in fifteen minutes.” Then without further instruction, he walks out of the room locking the door behind him.
I stare at the closed door for a matter of minutes, before walking over to the large French windows and adopting the same position that my husband had just moments ago.
I stare out at the landscaped gardens below, and I’m not as struck by their loveliness as I should be because my thoughts are with the beautiful man that just walked out of this room.
He’s just shown me a part of himself that resonates with something deep inside my chest.
Yes, I am right to fear him, and I know that I haven’t experienced even a sliver of what’s to come, but I also want to see more of him, the more of him that just spoke in painful truths.
Somewhere inside all his darkness is a light. I only saw it take him over for the briefest moment, but it was there.
A spark.
A spark I want to ignite if only for my survival.
With a head full of thoughts and a heart beating with the tiniest scrap of hope, I make my way quickly to the enormous dressing room and pick out a demure blue dress that covers up most of my body. Then I rush into the shower, not waiting for it to heat up and begin to wash away the last twenty-four hours.
I have a plan.
I will obey.
I will make it so that that flicker of light shows itself again and then I will use everything I have as kindling and turn that speck of flame into a blazing inferno.
I am not darkness, but I’ve been around enough to know how to exploit it. I will take all that my husband doles out, but I will be the one left standing when the fires consume him.
“Has she bled for you yet, brother? Is it my turn to taste the sweetness of Craven flesh between my teeth?”
Luke sits bare-chested and dripping wet after his early morning swim. My brother likes routine. He never varies from the structure of his early morning workouts, so I knew exactly where to find him to brief him on today’s plan.
“She’s not one of our whores, brother. She’s my wife. What I do with my wife is my business. She will not be shared.”
His mouth gapes widely for a brief second, a reaction that seems foreign on my brother’s ever reserved façade. I’ve never been territorial over a woman, they mean nothing to me, but I know my words will be taken as a slight against him and what we’ve always shared. We are as close as two siblings like us can be, despite being so different to one another. It is our darkness that connects us, our unwavering goal to annihilate those who have wronged us.
“So our plans have changed to allow you to play happy families? Have you fallen in love with the freak eyed Craven girl?”
I don’t even realise I’ve moved until I have Luke pressed up against the wall by his throat, his feet scraping against the floor trying to find purchase.
“Easy, brother. I’m not enjoying your tone.”
His eyes narrow but his body deflates, and I know this is just a false calm; it’s his preferred method of attack. Appear calm, and then strike.
I lower him slowly to the floor while speaking, never once dropping my eyes from his. “There’s no need for us to come to blows about this, Luke. We both want the same thing, but for now, the girl is off the table. She is collateral but is of no active use to our cause. Remove her from the equation, she is of no consequence to you or anyone else and will be touched by nobody except me.”
His eyes flare in anger, and I can see him physically biting the inside of his mouth to stop himself from responding.
“If and when I tire of her, you may do as you wish, but for now, at least, she is mine.”
I remove the tight grip my hand has on his throat and slowly take a step back. I don’t want to fight my brother over this, over her, and I can’t even explain my actions to myself, but I know I am willing to spill my kin’s blood to make my point.
The silence thickens between us before his face morphs into his usual pleasant mask.
“As you wish, brother. I’ll make sure everything is set up for today’s drop off and meet you back here later as planned.”
As if nothing ever happened between us, he walks away into the house.
I’ve just ignited his interest in Faye, ratcheting up his desire for her tenfold. I’ve awoken his beast by denying him my wife and with no good reason for doing so.
She fought back tears when I confronted her over that pervert’s abuse, and when I looked into her eyes, I saw pure innocence lost, but those facts should mean nothing when my aim is breaking Alec Craven’s daughter.
So why my reaction to Luke’s request? Why have I enraged my brother to save a girl I have every right to tear apart? And why do I still throb with the need to destroy her?
I want to feast on her flesh and wear her innocent soul like a second skin.
I just don’t want anyone else to have a taste.
Cole doesn’t come back for me.
When the alarm on the door sounds and the lock disengages, it is Luke that walks over the threshold.
His eyes meet mine and proceed to run from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, then back again.
“Very pretty, Mrs. Hunter. Blue suits you.”
His words are pleasant but not said with any warmth. He appears bored and a little annoyed to be his brother’s lackey once more.
Walking towards me, he extends his hand for me to take. “Let us depart. Today is a day for more truths, your husband wishes you to see first hand, what being a Hunter encompasses now that you are no longer a Craven.”
Remembering his warning about obedience that saw me tossed out of the car last night, I place my clammy hand into his cool one and stand from my position at the end of the bed.
His eyes rove over my body once more and despite his nonchalant demeanour, I cannot miss the flare of lust that bursts from his aura in shades of
deepest red. This is the first true read I’ve got on Luke, and I’m not sure what to make of it. How will knowing that he wants me help my situation?
He wants me.
A sudden tremor wracks my body.
“No need to fear me, Pet.” His mouth pulls up slightly on one corner as he side-eyes me. “I have no interest in hurting you.”
Lies.
I can feel the lie as well as see it.
I drop my eyes from his and concentrate on my steps as he directs us out of the bedroom, back through the hall and down the grand staircase. At the top stair, he places his hand on my lower back, and a vision hits me with the force of a fist to my kidneys.
I buckle, my legs going out from under me but it’s not the inevitable plummet down the staircase I see before me, it’s two young boys, one dark, one light.
“But why isn’t Mummy coming with us? Cole, I want to go back for Mummy.”
The older boy with golden blond hair holds tightly onto the hand of his younger, dark haired brother and leads him briskly away from an open doorway. “Mummy’s gone, Luke. She’s gone, and I have to look after you, it’s just you and me now.”
The dark haired boy struggles and slips his hand out of the other’s grasp, quickly darting under his arm back towards the door.
“She’s not gone; she’s in bed. Mummy! Mummy! Cole said…”
His words come to an abrupt halt as he rounds the corner into the room, the golden haired boy hot on his heels.
“Luke, don’t! Stop!” But the small boy doesn’t listen, and my heart rate increases in a frantic tattoo as I follow them both through the open door.
The scene behind the door is unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed, and I feel my body convulse in shock; all my fundamental functions shutting down in distress.
Before me, the dark-haired boy kneels on the floor, his arms clinging to the leg of a beautiful blonde haired woman.
She is suspended from the floor, her bare feet several inches from the ground, her body pinned against the farthest wall by five long daggers. One pierces each shoulder, one in each thigh and one straight through her gut. She’s naked, her body coated in thick rivers of blood that cover her in a sanguinary cloak. The vital fluid drips from her pointed toes, her pose almost Messiah-like, her face a mask of serenity. Her icy blue eyes gaze into nothingness, but despite the horror, they seem at peace. Her perfect face is unlike any beauty I have ever seen.
How could someone find peace in a death such as this?
The dark haired boy whimpers as the older boy looks on. He stares at the scene in front of him for a long moment before his head flicks quickly towards the open door almost as if he senses me behind him, but his gaze passes through me.
I take in his features, from his icy blue eyes to his full lips, and know I am looking at the young image of my husband. I want to reach out and touch his innocent face. I want to gather these boys into my arms and take them far from here. Instead, I observe a young Cole as he shakes away whatever moment he was lost in and runs towards his little brother.
“Come, Luke. We must leave before Father finds us here.” I watch as he never once looks at the body of his mother, his gaze fixed on the small boy crouched at her feet.
Luke whimpers quietly in reply, the words, “Don’t leave us, Mummy. Come back, Mummy,” spilling from his small lips.
Noise echoes from somewhere not too far away. The sound of footsteps and voices is slowly coming closer.
I see the panic in Cole’s eyes; he does not want to get caught here, and he tugs a little harder on his little brother but the smaller boy refuses to let go, and his whimpers turn into full-blown sobs.
My heart aches.
It aches for the small boy tragically hanging onto his dead mother’s form, begging her to come back and it squeezes painfully seeing the sheer terror beginning to take over the young Cole’s face.
All the while their beloved mother looks down on them with unseeing eyes, while crimson drips from the fingertips of her hands that will never again hold them in comfort.
“Luke, we need to move. Now!”
The voices get louder until they are almost outside the door. I want to hide; I want to block out this vision and whatever comes next. I selfishly do not want to see any more of the events that made these small boys into monsters.
Cole freezes, his body protectively wrapping around Luke, completely obscuring the younger boy from view.
The voices increase in volume, and I can feel their owners closing in until they are right behind me. I do not turn; I do not want to see who it is, the tendrils of their aura that creep across the floor and between my legs tell me enough.
“Cole. What did I tell you? Get up, NOW!” The voice bellows from behind me.
Cole doesn’t move. He doesn’t even turn his head to acknowledge the command; his entire focus is on the small boy he is trying desperately to hide.
“Cole. Don’t make me get you. Get the fuck up, boy and stop worshipping on the floor at the feet of that whore.”
Still, Cole doesn’t even flinch, and I beg him to stand up, to obey whoever is barking out these commands.
“Fetch the boy,” the voice orders and I feel another presence enter the room and walk straight through my cerebral form.
The man is broad, clad in a dark suit, with a bald head, but I cannot yet see his features. He walks straight up to where Cole crouches immobile and grips the boy by the arm, bending low to whisper something in his ear.
“Do not soothe the boy, MOVE HIM!” The blackness thickens around my feet as the other man moves further into the room and if I had a corporeal form he would be flush against my back. I can feel the evil pulse from his body, almost like a heartbeat.
The bald man tightens his grip and in one movement drags a now flailing Cole away from the gruesome tableau laid out before me. Try as he might, Cole is no match for his strength, and he’s soon deposited on the floor directly to my right and only inches away from the man at my back. I look away from his defeated form back to the wall and the bloody display that once was his mother.
In the same position he was a moment ago, Luke still clutches at her legs, his head buried against her, his whimpers starting anew.
A condescending laugh barks out behind me, “Ah, I see, you were protecting the runt of the litter.” A step forward brings the man into my line of vision. He’s impossibly tall, with striking jet black hair and his profile seems familiar.
“Turk, get the runt and take him to the cellar with his slut of a mother. If he wants to be with her so badly he can spend some quality one-on-one time with her rotting corpse.”
“NO!”
Cole’s skinny body launches himself at the taller man, and, caught off guard by the force of the tackle, they both crash to the floor. His small fists beat relentlessly at the man’s chest, his head thrashes, legs kicking but never finding their target.
All it takes is one swift and brutal punch to the boy’s head, and the struggle stops. Cole’s limp body is tossed to one side, blood trickling from his nose.
“Fucking ingrate. How the fuck did I end up with two pussy boys? If it weren’t for the blood tests, I’d swear they didn’t have an ounce of Hunter blood in their veins.”
He pushes himself up off the floor and kicks at the prone body of the child he’s just knocked out cold.
“Throw this one in the cellar with his brother and mother; I’m sure my sons will soon find their Hunter spirit when cold, hunger and the stink of her rotting flesh are all they have for company.”
“Sir, are you…”
The bald man goes to speak but falls silent at this monster’s raised hand.
“Your orders are simple, Turk. Take the trash to the cellar and don’t ever fucking question me again.”
Turk nods, his hands still gripping the smaller boy’s shoulders.
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry to speak out of turn.”
Satisfied with that response, the man turns towards me and strides from th
e room. It is only when I see his entire face that clarity washes over me dousing me in grief.
I’ve seen him before, in another vision.
He’s the man I watched having his throat slit by a young blond boy, by a young Cole.
This monster is, was, his father.
Awareness stings.
The repeated smack of a palm across my cheek rouses me from the scene that is evaporating from my head like early morning mist.
“Wake-up, Pet. We haven’t got time for fainting fits, and I’d hate to have to throw you in the cellar until we come back. You wouldn’t like it down there. Trust me.”
“You sound like your father,” I mumble the words incoherently and blink my eyes open to meet Luke’s penetrating dark brown stare.
“What was that Pet? Are you dreaming about your Father? Well, let me tell you a secret.” He leans in until his lips feather over mine, barely touching but close enough that we share the same breath. “I wouldn’t go wasting your time thinking about dear old Daddy. He’ll be worm food soon enough.”
“Good.” The word slips out on an exhale, but he doesn’t miss it. His eyes flare wide before narrowing dangerously. He doesn’t seem convinced by my freely given truth, and, without warning, he stands and drags me to my feet. His hand gripping unforgivingly at the flesh of my upper arm, he leans into my ear, his voice low but deceptively calm and whispers, “I’m not one to play games with, Pet. It would be wise for you to remember that.”
My eyes meet his just as Cole rounds the corner and stops abruptly, taking in our proximity and Luke’s mouth far too close to my face.
“Ah, here he is, the man of the hour. Newlywed and ready to show his new bride the Hunter business.”
Letting go of my arm, Luke strides past Cole only stopping to turn and say, “You might need to feed your Pet, Brother. She almost took a tumble and broke her neck.”
Cole’s eyes remain fixed on mine as his brother walks away and disappears from sight. He looks from the front doors, back to me, almost confused as to how to proceed, before he sighs in annoyance, turns on his heels and speaks his favourite command.