Rook felt helpless. She couldn’t fight, she couldn’t run. She pulled the robe tighter around herself. “Thank you.” She lowered her head. “I’m going to get dressed.”
“If you need anything, let us know.”
“I will.” She took each step slowly, sliding her hand along the wooden rail.
Lights illuminated the portraits lining the hallway of the floor between the bedrooms and the living room.
She took in each of them. A family of five strapping boys ranging in age from preteen to twenties. All of them bear a striking resemblance to Hunter. She smiled thinking about his time as a father. Rook took a few more steps and was drawn to a portrait at the center of the rest, a woman. She was facing away from the artist, her long golden hair blowing in the breeze. Water colored roses decorated the tight rows of braids. A tattoo peeked out from the dress falling off her shoulder. Rook took a step closer, running her fingers lightly across the texture of paint on the canvas.
There was something haunting yet familiar about the scene. When her hands reached the lower corner, the texture changed. She could feel the sorrow in the brush strokes where the portrait was signed “Bjorn.”
“Runa,” she breathed the name, giving her a moment of reverence.
Rook turned to go up to the next level and a flash of memory unsteadied her. She grabbed the railing to right herself.
“Are you okay?” Gosta appeared at her side in an instant.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Rook said absently.
Gosta’s eyes flashed to the portrait and a softness came over his demeanor.
“What happened to her?” Rook’s voice was almost a whisper.
Gosta’s eyes darkened. “She was killed in a raid.”
Rook felt the lie in his words. “A raid?”
“Yes.” He’s changed the subject. “Did you need help up to your room?”
“No.” She studied him, wondering what it was he was hiding. “I’ll be fine.”
The flash appeared in her mind’s eye again. She was standing on the cliff side holding a bouquet of wildflowers. She turned and a feeling of warmth raced through her body seeing Hunter striding up the path.
She ran to him, throwing her arms around him. “Welcome home, my love.”
Rook snapped out of the thought, steadying herself on the door frame to the bedroom. She shook her head and continued in to get dressed.
Chapter 26
Hunter watched as his old homestead came into view. The house was long since gone and he lamented how we was never able to bring himself to rebuild there.
He motioned for the pilot the circle the field, so he could survey the impending battle. At the center of the field Camille was staked to the ground. Hunter swallowed hard to push his rage down, he had to keep a cool head.
Thirty plus vampires formed a circle around Camille for Hunter to fight through to get to her. Calder stood boldly at the top of the circle wearing an all-black suit. The helicopter landed, Hunter was at the ready when he set foot on the ground.
Calder stood unmoving, his arms folded across his broad chest. With a sardonic smile he said, “Father. So glad you came.” He looked past him toward the helicopter. “But it seems you’ve forgotten something.”
Hunter choked back the bile in his throat brought up by his disgust. He gnashed his teeth together and wrapped his hand tightly around the hilt of his silver bastard sword. “I’ve forgotten nothing.”
“The deal was that you would bring the rook and I would let Camille go,” Calder said without uncrossing his arms.
“I never agreed to those terms.” Hunter came to a stop in front of Calder.
“That’s unfortunate, but predictable.” He pursed his lips and inhaled a deep breath.
Hunter waited for Calder to make the first move. Calder exposed his fangs and lunged at Hunter. He deflected, spinning around and drawing two silver throwing knives, hurling them at Calder. One of the knives grazed his shoulder.
Calder put his hand over the wound then pulled it away, looking at the blood. “This is one of my favorite suits.”
Before Calder could react, two more throwing knives whizzed in his direction. He avoided one, but the other landed square in the flesh of his thigh. He howled in pain as smoke rose from the silver burning Calder’s skin. He pulled the knife out and examined his own blood dripping from the blade.
His expression hardened. He looked past Hunter and waved his hand, then turned toward the helicopter. “Goodbye, Father. I’m sorry I couldn’t stick around to kill you myself, but I have business to attend to.”
Camille let out a muted scream to warn Hunter. He already felt the other vampires advancing on him. He moved quickly out of the way, but there were so many of them he was boxed in and had nowhere to go.
The vampires slashed and beat on him with silver blades and chains. Hunter’s ferocity was no match for so many. He was driven to his knees but still fought and struggled to get one hit in.
His hearing failed, the scene fell silent all but for the caw of two ravens coming to a rest in a nearby tree. Their screeches echoed in his mind and he breathed her name, “Rook.”
With a mighty roar that traveled across the fjord, he threw all the vampires off him and addressed the ravens, “Huginn, Muninn, your master and I will feast tonight on the flesh of my enemies.”
The savage warrior deep within him was released and he battled the vampires, ripping them to pieces, slashing through their flesh and sinking his silver dagger deep into their chests.
With each strike to the heart, the vampires turned to dust and were carried away on the wind. Hunter’s vision was obscured by his rage, only seeing red.
There were no more opponents coming at him, those that were left were either wounded and trying to heal or had retreated. He stood panting, covered in dust and blood, clutching his dagger.
“Hunter!” Camille cried out.
He pushed against the murderous rage that had zeroed in on the vampires left alive.
Camille tried to reach him calling out again, “Hunter, please.”
He saw her outstretched in the grass, her wrists and ankles staked into the ground. He rushed to her and knelt, “Are you okay?”
Camille glared at him. “No.”
He studied where she was bound. “This is going to hurt.”
“It already does, just get it over with,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut.
Hunter pulled the first stake out and continued to free her ankles. Camille cried out in agony. He pulled her to him. “I’m so sorry.”
“You can be sorry later, he’s going to kill Rook.” She released him. “We have to get to her.”
“I will,” Hunter said without doubt.
“But the helicopter,” Camille said. “How are you going to get to her in time?”
“She is well protected; my greater concern is getting you to safety before the sun comes up.” He looked around at the lack of options.
He dug deep in the chest plate of his armor and pulled out his cell phone. The screen was shattered, and it wouldn’t turn on. “It’s okay, I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you.”
Chapter 27
Rook sat on the bed with a plate of food she brought up to the bedroom to escape the strangers downstairs. She could feel Sophie’s resentment that her wife was danger because of her. It also made her uncomfortable the way vampires watched her eat, she could feel their envy.
“Skolebrod?” a deep voice sounded from across the room.
Rook startled, dropping the bun back on the plate. “Jesus, I would really appreciate it if you guys would not sneak around like that.” She studied him for a moment, puzzled by his resemblance to Hunter. “Gosta didn’t mention there would be anyone in my room.”
He stood up from the chair and sauntered closer to the bed. “That’s because Gosta doesn’t know.”
Rook watched his smooth movements. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end with an ill feeling. She played it off and pic
ked up her bun, shrugging. “I guess I thought he was in charge and knew where everyone supposed to be.”
Calder stood over her. “Very interesting.”
Rook took a bite in an attempt to not show her fear while she figured this out. “What’s that?”
“I can’t smell you.” He squinted his eyes. “At all.”
“Didn’t they tell you? I’m a rook, vampires can’t scent me.” She rested the plate on the bedside table, “Or drink my blood, it’s deadly to them.”
“Is that so?” He rubbed the stubble on his chin.
“Yup.” Rook eyed his pant leg, torn and stained with some sort of liquid.
He was disheveled and had a tear in his sleeve. “What happened to you?” She ticked her head toward his pants.
“Oh, this?” He rubbed his leg where the hole was. “Nothing of concern, we heal very fast.” He leaned in close to her, inhaling deeply. “I really can’t smell you.”
Rook stood from the bed to put some distance between them. “I’m Rook, by the way. What’s your name?”
“You already know,” he cut an evil smile into his cheek.
A shock of fear hit Rook in a wave of bad tingles. She turned slowly to face him. She studied him, recognizing Hunter’s eyes and strong jawline, her voice was just a whisper, “Calder.”
“Very good. You always were quite intelligent.” He closed the distance between them. “But never smart enough to stay off my radar.”
Rook was thankful he’s unable to smell her fear and she maintained a stoic expression. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that life after life, century after century, I found you,” he said, leaning in to smell her again. “It’s uncanny.”
Calder watched her eyes flash to the door. “It’s futile, you already know I’d snap your pretty little neck before you took one step.”
“Why don’t you just do it?” She shrugged.
“What’s the fun in that?” He feigned offense. “Does a cat simply kill its prey?”
“I’m prey now?” She rolled her eyes. “I hate to ruin your day, but you can’t kill me.”
“Mortals are so entertaining.” He laughed.
“What’s your game plan? Because I can scream, and you’ll have a shit ton of vampire’s up here in a flash.” She pulled her lips into a tight line.
“They don’t concern me, I can best any one of them,” he said with confidence.
“I don’t know.” She pulled her lips to the side in thought. “Gosta’s a big dude.”
“Gosta can’t stop me.” He scoffed at the idea. “It’s not always about size.”
Rook was pulling herself together, using the one talent that had always served her—wit. “Whoa, size matters.”
“Are you making jokes?”
Rook nodded. “Yeah . . . yeah, I am.”
Calder laughed. “Like a lamb to the slaughter.”
She held a finger up. “Ah, but my dying today is not a foregone conclusion.”
Calder furrowed his brow with confusion. “It is, I’m going to kill you . . . again.”
“Again?” She pulled her shoulders to her ear and went back to sitting on the bed. “Why is everything so dramatic with you?”
Calder hardly knew what to do, he stared at her blankly. “I’m not sure if you’re incredibly smart or incredibly stupid. But you are going to die.”
“I’ll will say, I don’t know the outcome of . . .” She waved her hands, motioning between them, “This vendetta you have. But if I am going to die, I’m not spending my last moments begging for mercy.” Her expression turned serious and she pinned him with a glare. “From someone that clearly has no concept of the word.”
“There we go, you’re getting it now.” A grin stretched across his lips.
“So, tell me, before you kill me.” She sat and pulled the comforter over her feet to warm them. “Why the vendetta? Why kill me at all?” She raised her hands in question. “I’m totally down with the concept of reincarnation.” She lifted her brow. “That shit made me a lot of money in New Orleans, but what have I done to you that was so egregious that you hunt my soul down every lifetime to kill me?” She plastered an uneasy smile on her face. “And is it too late to say I’m sorry?”
Calder’s face screwed up in confusion. “What?”
Rook widened her eyes. “Can I say I’m sorry? For whatever I did to you?”
Calder’s eyes narrowed in on her. “This has never been about you.”
“Really?” Rook tilted her head back. “Please explain this to me, because if it’s not about me I’m not sure why I’m the one that keeps dying.”
Calder paced the floor with his nostrils flaring. “Because he lacked vision.”
“Who?”
“Father,” Calder said as though she should know.
“We could’ve lived forever. Been a force in the world, conquered new lands together. But he made the wrong choice.”
“You kill me so that your father will never be happy?” she asked.
“Enough of this.” Calder threw his arms in the air and started toward her with purpose.
Rook held her arms up. “Whoa, hold on.”
“What?” he growled, freezing in place.
“You’re doing this wrong,” she said, praying the terror running through her wasn’t showing. She was using her abilities to mask herself from him. He couldn’t smell her, he couldn’t hear her heart racing. Rook held her cool exterior.
“How?” he said, astonished at how this was playing out.
“What is it with you vampires?” She stood from the bed, pacing. “I stall you as long as possible until the hero can arrive and save me.”
“That’s not going to happen, Mother.” There was hint of sadness in his eyes.
Rook’s blood ran cold. “Mother?”
Calder’s shoulders fell forward as he lowered his eyes.
Rook felt and saw a memory. Calder dressed in ancient garb, bursting into the small farm house. He swept across the room, taking her into his arms. “Mother.”
“Calder?” she whispered in astonishment. “We had given up hope that you were alive. We heard you . . .” Tears of joy spilled over.
“No, it’s wonderful. I will never die.” Calder’s gaze danced with excitement. “None of us will.”
She ticked her head back. “How is that so? And why?”
“Why?” His brow furrowed.
“Yes, why? Don’t you wish to feast in the great halls of Valhalla?” she questioned.
“We will all feast together.” Calder drew his sword from the scabbard.
“What are you doing?” She backed away from him with her eyes fixed on the tip of the blade.
“Giving you the gift of immortality.” He thrust the blade through her heart.
Rook came back to the present and lifted her hand to her chest, running her fingers over the place the blade went in. “Calder.” Her tone carried sorrow and recognition.
“We could’ve owned Norway together.” Calder gritted his teeth. “But father refused to turn you.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.
“He needed to turn you, I wanted him to do it. But he refused, he’s the one that chose to let you die.” Calder drew closer to her. “So every time you come back, I kill you, so he can continue to pay for his crime of taking you and my brothers away from me.”
Rook’s eyes felt heavy, her head spun trying to grasp what was happening. Her heart ached from the despair of it all. The thousands of years Calder had spent hunting her down only to kill her again and again. “You killed your brothers,” she whispered, feeling Runa’s anguish mingling with her own consciousness.
“No!” Calder bellowed. “He did.”
Rook shook her head with complete and utter defeat. “Please, just finish this.” Rook pulled her hair away from her neck and tilted her head back.
Calder instinctively swooped in with his fangs extended and sank them deep int
o her neck.
Rook winced at the initial pain of the puncture wound and began to feel dizzy as Calder drained her.
Hunter burst into the room. “Calder!” He rushed across the room, knocking him off Rook.
Calder recovered quickly, but his vision blurred and fire ran through his veins. He huffed a laugh.
Rook collapsed to the floor holding her neck, feeling weak.
Hunter ran to her, lifting her into his arms. “You’re going to be okay.” He rested her on the bed.
She pressed out a hard-won smile. “My Hunter.” She tried to lift her hand to touch his face, but her hand fell back to the bed.
“You’re okay,” Hunter bleated, trying to convince them both.
She smiled through parched lips and heavy eyes. “Yes, you saved me.”
“I will always–”
Rooks eyes widened, “Calder!”
Hunter spun out of the way before Calder could run him through. He slammed the vampire against the wall, glaring into his eyes. “Never again.”
He stopped, watching Calder’s flesh turning grey, fingers crumbling to dust and sweat pouring down his brow. Calder’s sardonic smile never faltered. “I still won, Father.”
“No, it’s over now,” Hunter said, stepping back and allowing Calder to crumple to the floor.
“This will never be over.” He coughed and flinched, watching his hands disintegrate. “Mother wasn’t killed in a raid. I did it and now we’ve come full circle.” He flicked his eyes toward the bed. “If you had just turned her then, you wouldn’t have wasted so many years,” were his last words before the rest of his body crumbled to a pile on the floor.
Hunter turned toward Rook, horror ran him through with the feeling of being gutted when he saw the sword protruding from her chest.
Camille, Gosta and Sophie were hovering over the bed, unsure of what to do.
“Get out of the way,” Hunter growled and sat beside her.
Camille rested her hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “When you pull it out, you won’t have much time.”
Hunter took Rook’s hand his, she was unconscious and unable to respond. “Rook!” his voice waivered, “Please, don’t . . .”
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