by RK Close
“I’m not working. I’m just curious and maybe a little excited for you both.”
His eyes turn serious. “What about your guy, Adam? Have you heard anything?”
My eyes threaten to tear up at the mention of his name. “No, Jacob feels he’s getting closer to the witch, Giselle.” A tear does slide down my face, and I quickly wipe it away with my sleeve. The thought of something bad happening to Adam is more than I can handle after seeing Chad this way. “I’m so worried about him. If something happens to him…” I say, looking away.
I feel his hand on my knee. “I’ll help, and so will the Mojave Pack. We’ve already discussed it. It’s the least we can do. If you weren’t involved in this situation, it might have had a much worse ending. Thank you.”
I look up at him, hope starting to grow in my heart where despair has been crushing me.
“Thank you. I don’t move in your circles, and I feel useless to Jacob. He needs help to find him. He feels there’s still a good chance he’s alive because Giselle wouldn’t be content with a quick…” Again, I can’t say the words.
I’m rarely at a loss for words, but I’m learning all sorts of new things about myself where Adam is concerned. I regain my composure.
“Please let me know if you or Deirdre need anything. I’m sorry this happened to you, but I’m glad you didn’t let her die. You’re a pretty special guy yourself. I hope your parents realize that.”
“We’ve never seen eye to eye on matters of the pack. I’m too progressive for them.” He closes his eyes then, and when he doesn’t open them, I leave the room without saying goodbye. Deirdre and I squeeze past each other in the narrow hallway as she carries a tray loaded with enough food to feed five guys.
I nod at the plate. “Is that all for him?”
“Yep. Our kind consumes a ton of calories to regenerate from injuries like that,” Deirdre says with a sad smile.
“I’ll see myself out. Will you be all right?” I ask.
“Thanks to Chad, I will be.” She smiles before disappearing into his room.
***
The late afternoon sun is dropping behind the horizon as I walk to my car. I can’t help but smile, thinking about those two and the possibilities of new love. I’m shipping them together even if they are from rival packs and it’s forbidden. To hell with the rules. Love conquers all.
Did I just answer one of my own questions about Adam and me?
My warm fuzzy feeling doesn’t last long. It begins to evaporate during the short drive to my condo.
Waving at Harold as I pass through the lobby, I make my way quickly up to the fourth floor by taking the stairs. By this point, my thoughts are growing dark again. I try to envision my life without Adam. Why do our minds do that? It must be a coping mechanism to deal with the possibility of a tragedy. It’s all I can do to push these thoughts away by the time I reach my door. My phone rings as I put the key in and open the door. I walk in quickly, trying to dig for the phone in my bag. When I find it, the screen shows Jacob’s name, so I answer quickly as I kick off my shoes and walk into the condo. Wilbur doesn’t greet me, which makes me wonder where that silly kitty is and what he’s up to.
“Hi Jacob,” I say, moving toward my bedroom.
“Sam! Where are you?” His voice is filled with an urgency that is unlike him.
“I just got home. Why? What’s happened?” I ask, reaching for my bedroom door.
“Get out of the apartment,” he says, and I freeze, looking around for the first time. Nothing appears out of place, except the door to my room is closed. I never close it.
“Jacob, what’s happened?” I ask, cautiously stepping closer to the door. Switching the phone to my left hand, I slide the dagger out of its sheath with the other.
“You’re in danger. It may be a trap!” I barely hear his words as I cautiously push the door of my bedroom open.
What I see steals my breath and I’m momentarily stunned into silence. “Sam? Do you hear me? Sam?” Jacob asks, urgently.
Scattered all over my bedroom is a sea of black roses. More than I can count. They cover the floor, the bed, and the dresser. Before I can turn and run, pain explodes in the back of my head.
I hear Jacob’s frantic voice calling my name through the phone and then…nothing.
36
Retribution
I wake with a jolt. Before my eyes can adjust, I hear a deep rumbling nearby. It only takes a moment for me to determine that the rumbling noise is growling. Ignoring the painful throbbing in my head, I scramble quickly onto my hands and knees, crawling in the opposite direction from the noise until I hit a wall. That’s when I notice several things at once. I’m in a dimly lit industrial-looking room with gray cement walls, ceiling, and floor. There are no windows, and only one metal door. My head is pounding like a migraine. And Adam is with me. But it’s not Adam. Not really.
Adam!
My heart aches with relief that he’s alive, but instinct tells me not to approach him. Heavy chains hold his wrists and shackle him to the wall. The desire to run to him is tempered with fear. The inhuman noises I heard when I woke were from Adam. It’s obvious that he’s not right. His eyes are wild and black as ink. I’ve only ever seen him like this in my dreams. He’s absolutely terrifying. I’m torn between being afraid for him, and of him.
Time seems to stand still.
Adam’s protruding ribs, gaunt, pale face and black eyes suggest he’s been denied blood. Possibly the entire time he’s been missing, almost a week. Jacob says a strong vampire can go up to three, perhaps four days without feeding before he becomes a danger to everyone around him. We didn’t discuss how long it takes to lose their minds and digress to this—this being a mindless, animalistic need, a hunger that cannot be denied at any cost. I swallow hard when I realize the cost will be me.
***
We’ve been at this for hours.
He will be the death of me—even as he’s saved me.
“Adam?”
His response is like a shocking slap to the face when he fights violently against his bonds and tries to reach me by arching his body in my direction, screaming his frustration. I flatten myself against the cold wall and turn my face away as hot tears run down my cheeks. There’s no recognition in those eyes—only a predator denied its prey. This knowledge crushes me as I begin to wrap my mind around our situation and the unthinkable outcome.
Someone has gone to great lengths to orchestrate this tragedy.
Adam has been starved beyond his capacity to reason, and I’ve been offered up as his only source of blood—the cure for his disease.
He once told me his mortal life ended at the age of thirty-three. I’m a tadpole in comparison—with my short twenty-six years of life.
My legs tremble as I take another hesitant step toward him. A narrow ten feet separate us now. Chains rattle viciously with his efforts to grab me. A large bolt attached to a square plate fastening his chains to the stone wall works its way loose and hits the ground. In my mind, it could be boulders crashing down a mountain. That’s the second bolt to fall loose. Each bracket has only three, as if someone planned for the restraints to fail. If his mind was clear he could twist them lose himself.
Ever since I came to on the cold hard concrete floor with Adam growling and thrashing at me like a wild animal, Gabriel’s words of warning have been echoing through my mind like a ghost in the room. He knew this could happen. But I don’t think I could have stopped my feelings for Adam, even if I wanted to.
Lord knows I tried.
It’s almost over—either I’ll end our pain by taking that final step into his reach, or Adam will finally pull those brackets from the wall. There is a part of me that wants to stop this now. I know he’s suffering. Every now and then, Adam doubles over as if in intense pain. It seems to come in waves. I’ve been trying to wrack my brain for a way out of this, but someone thought it through with great care and detail.
He growls and flexes his muscles. At this
moment, Adam doesn’t look like the man I love, but he looks like the vampire he is.
He screams at me, and my heart constricts with unbearable pain. Adam doesn’t recognize me anymore. My efforts to speak to him only seem to agitate him.
My heart’s breaking. He doesn’t even know me in what will be our last moments together. That thought may kill me before he has the chance to.
A loud, grinding sound interrupts his violent thrashing, along with my dark thoughts, as one of the plates securing his chains pulls completely free from the wall. He stumbles from the momentum of his newly freed arm. Finding himself off-balance, the sound of the plate hitting the ground manages to capture his attention. Adam looks at the end of the chain lying on the ground. For a moment, he’s distracted.
When his attention returns to me, his eyes are murderous. He lunges for me with his newly freed arm, and I jump back against the wall, barely avoiding his grasp.
Maybe I’m not as ready to die as I thought. If not for Adam’s weakened state, I could never move faster than him. My chest heaves from the effort, and a large rush of adrenaline surges through me, giving new energy and purpose.
With only one arm chained to the wall, his reach almost touches me. He yells his outrage as he reaches for me—the mouse just outside his grasp.
He’s encouraged by the change in his mobility and begins to thrash in earnest again. My heart is beating wildly in my chest when his efforts finally result in the final plate pulling from the wall. Knowing what this means, my spirit sinks.
This is the end.
Adam’s momentarily surprised and looks at the chains hanging loosely at his sides. Slowly his eyes turn to meet mine. Is this how our story ends—like this? Really?
Nature simply running its course.
A final tear slides down my face but I don’t dare breathe. With his head low and a deep growl that radiates from his chest and bounces off our prison walls, Adam lunges for me.
For the moment, I’m fighting a man. He’s weakened by hunger to the point that his movements and reflexes resemble those of a human—a strong man, but just a man.
Adam reaches for my neck, and I raise my arms up between his and knock them to the side. Simultaneously, I lift my knee into his groin. My heart hurts to hear him groan in pain before doubling over. If we have any chance of surviving this, I can’t show any mercy, or he’ll overtake me. I grab his hair with both hands and drive his head down as I bring my knee up with as much force as I can manage.
I’m surprised and a bit horrified when Adam falls, seemingly unconscious. I follow him to the ground, dropping to my knees and grabbing his shoulders.
“Adam!” I scream his name, but there’s no response.
What if he’s so weak that the blow killed him? Fresh tears threaten my vision, and I take a deep breath to clear my head. Bending down, I lay my head on his chest to listen for a heartbeat. Have I ever heard his heartbeat? Do vampires have one? I’m disgusted with myself for not knowing these simple facts about the man I love. It’s my turn to scream in frustration, and I do—loudly.
I search around the dark room, lit by nothing more than a single bulb hanging down. In one corner, near the ceiling, a surveillance camera’s light flashes on and off. That was one of the first things I noticed when I woke. Someone wants to watch the show.
Giselle, no doubt.
I stare at the camera, knowing she won’t be satisfied until he kills me. That’s when a thought occurs to me. Giselle wants Adam to feel the pain she felt when they killed her sisters. She wants him to suffer from that same soul-destroying pain that leaves you empty and longing for death…or revenge.
But what if Adam died before me? Giselle would be robbed of what she’s waited three hundred years for. What would happen if I made her believe I’d kill Adam to save myself? Looking around the almost empty room, I see several wood pallets stacked in the corner. Not much in the way of weapons.
I check Adam once more. He still hasn’t moved and I pray the blow didn’t kill him. Looking at the camera once more, I gently lower Adam’s head so that I can move toward the stack of wooden pallets. Pulling one of the heavy pallets half way off the pile, I position my foot above the wood slat and bring it down hard. The wood cracks loudly, but doesn’t break. Lifting my foot again, bringing it crashing down several more times until it’s throbbing with pain. There is a final satisfying crack as one of the planks of wood splits into several jagged pieces. I quickly grab hold of the longest, thinnest piece and work on separating it from the rest. Several large splinters lodge in my hands for my efforts, but I ignore most of them. One rather large fragment requires me to take a moment to pull it out. Blood begins to drip down my hand immediately, but I ignore the pain and get back to work.
Once I have my improvised stake, I move over to Adam, making sure my slow deliberate actions are in full view of the camera. One last defiant look at the mysterious person watching this horror show before I slowly raise the stake over Adam’s heart. Just going through the motions makes me feel sick.
Before I can even wonder if anyone is truly watching, the metal door flies open with such force I think it will come off its hinges. Standing in the doorway is one of the most exotic and beautiful women I’ve ever seen. With long raven hair falling over her shoulders and glowing blue almond-shaped eyes, Giselle glares at me. With mouth hanging open and my stake still suspended in mid-air, I gape at her.
I barely blink, and the stake is wrenched out of my hands, and I’m certain I have several new splinters. Giselle stands silently at the door with the stake in her hand, preparing to close it again.
“Wait!” I yell.
She turns to look at me, but before I can plead with her, there is a loud noise from somewhere in the building. From what I can see just past Giselle, it appears to be an abandoned factory of some sort.
Giselle’s head whips in the direction of the sound, and I know she’s surprised. There’s a flash of what could be fear on her face and then it’s gone as she slams the door shut and I hear a bolt slide into place.
So much for my efforts. Our situation has not improved. Giving a shaky sigh, I pull my gaze from the locked door, and look down—and gasp.
Adam’s watching me like a predator about to strike—and then he does.
37
Bitter End
Without hesitation, Adam goes from a prone position on his back to pinning me with his body and trying to latch onto my neck. I struggle with my hands knotted in his short hair, trying to hold him off, but my grasp is slipping, because he’s still stronger than me. The thick chains still attached to his wrists scrape and cut me with our movements.
“Adam!” I scream his name, and I sense hesitation in his attack.
Was that real? Did he recognize his name—my voice? The moment was so brief that I may have imagined it, especially when his efforts double. Either he’s gaining strength, or I’m losing mine.
“Adam! Adam! Look at me.” Again, there is the briefest pause.
“Adam Blackwell! You are Adam…I’m Sam…Samantha.” Tears roll down my face as my grip begins to fail and I know I won’t be able to stop him if he bites me. I’ll only get weaker, and he’ll get stronger. But not before he kills me. He’s been too long without blood.
As my strength begins to give out, his head is inching closer to my neck and his hands are pulling my hair for leverage.
Memories of intimate moments shared with him steal into my mind. This is how I want to go. Remembering moments in his arms and wanting him to kiss me forever. His lips on my neck—the memory of him biting me and the feelings that consumed us both.
With that thought, I let go, and his teeth sink painfully into my neck. Adam hugs me to him like a doll. I think he’ll crush my bones as his strength increases. This isn’t the passionate bite that we shared before. I knew it wouldn’t be, but the pain is causing my head to swim, blocking the memories I want to leave with.
“I love you, Adam. It’s okay. I love you,” I say.
>
It’s my hope that he will remember these words. The only thing I care about now is that he knows how I feel and that he’s forgiven. My greatest regret is that I haven’t told him sooner.
“I love you, Adam. Don’t blame…yourself. I love…Adam…” My mind grows foggy with each passing second. I’m not even sure if I said that out loud or only in my mind.
“Arrrrrrrrgh!” Adam roars above my head and then screams in anguish.
I blink at him. His eyes have the slimmest hint of blue around their edges. I love his eyes.
“Adam?” I ask weakly. He looks around the room like a caged animal and drops his head to my neck again.
I scream and yell his name with my last ounce of strength. “Adam, stop!”
He’s on his feet quickly and roars again. His eyes are becoming more blue, the black bleeding away. Hope rises in my chest as I watch his internal battle. I try to raise up on an elbow, but his gaze darts back to me like a beast that’s just caught sight of prey.
His breathing is like an animal panting. Even though his body has lost some of the gauntness, he still looks unhealthy. My head is swimming from blood loss. I’m feeling sort of numb and tingly at the same time.
“Adam, I’m here. Do you know me?” I whisper weakly.
He looks like he’ll pounce on me again. It’s like my words are affecting him, but he doesn’t know why. The look on his face tells me he wants to finish what he started.
I stare into those eyes and know the exact moment he loses the battle.
Adam.
He falls on me, and I’m far too weak to care anymore.
My eyes close in anticipation of the pain to come. I feel the weight of Adam’s body draped across mine. Memories begin to flash across my mind as I search for the perfect one to carry me away. It’s not surprising that the one I choose is the only time I asked him to bite me. With that moment playing through my mind like a favorite movie, I brace for pain.