Awaken the Darkness

by Dianne Duvall

  Grabbing her phone, she shoved it into her purse. She did the same with her toothbrush and hairbrush, both of which she would’ve taken if she had actually gone out of town.

  What was Stanislav doing with those men? Was he killing the two who still lived?

  She found the thought disturbing, but what choice did he have really? Those men would’ve killed her had Stanislav not knocked them out. And if he didn’t kill them, they would continue to hunt him. Or hunt them, she supposed, since she knew about them too, now.

  Her stomach knotted. Four dead men were tucked away somewhere on her property. How the hell would that not come back and bite them in the ass?

  Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she collected her laptop and the toilet paper roll and headed for the stairs.

  Stanislav panted as he slung Paul and Henry to the ground and sought refuge in the shade. He was pretty damned far from Susan’s house, way out near the edge of her property. Thankfully, she had no neighbors. Just dense forest interrupted by the occasional small meadow like this one.

  The wound in his shoulder throbbed. His breath came in pained gasps. His skin bore pink burns.

  Bending, he clenched a fist in Henry’s shirt and jerked him up so he could sink his fangs into the man’s neck. Disgust filled him. Henry reeked of stale sweat and urine. But Stanislav needed the blood. His shoulder wound had wept too much of his own. And the sun had kicked his ass on the run there.

  Time pressed him hard, as did concern for Susan. He didn’t want to leave her alone for more minutes than he had to.

  When Henry’s heartbeat ceased, Stanislav tossed him into the deep hole he had dug the afternoon Susan had taken Jax to her friend’s home and gone grocery shopping. He had said nothing to her about it, unsure how she would react.

  Henry landed in a heap on top of Ed and Charlie. Stanislav wanted to partake of Paul’s blood next, but needed to get back to Susan, so he snapped the man’s neck instead and dropped him beside Henry. Bending, he picked up one of the shovels he had borrowed from Susan’s basement and left beside the hole. He stuck it into the pile of dirt beside him, then swore as a thought dawned.

  Abandoning the shovel, he jumped down into the hole and searched Ed’s pockets until he found the keys to the man’s SUV. Leaping out again, he snared the shovel and filled in the hole at preternatural speeds.

  The run back to Susan’s house was a little easier after the infusion of blood. The pink had even left his skin by the time he reached it.

  When he entered the back door, he found her carrying crimson-stained tissues to the bathroom off the breakfast nook.

  Gasping, she stopped short.

  “It’s just me,” he said, sorry he had startled her.

  Sighing, she gave him a jerky nod. When her gaze fell to the shovel he carried, she paled a little.

  “Almost done?” He hated that she was having to deal with this, all because of him.

  “I think so.” She motioned to the floor at his feet with one elbow. “I cleaned here and the basement, too. Would you see if I missed anything?”

  “Of course.” While she disappeared into the small bathroom, Stanislav did as she asked. He could still smell traces of the men’s blood—as well as his own—but could see no evidence of it even with his acute vision. She had done well.

  He closed the back door.

  Susan returned.

  “Let me have those gloves,” he said softly.

  She pulled the gloves off, turning them inside out in the process.

  Stanislav took them and stuffed them into one of the pockets of his cargo pants. “Wait here.” It only took him a minute to zip down to the basement and dig a grave-sized hole. As soon as he finished, he returned to Susan’s side.

  “Let’s go.” He motioned for her to precede him to the front door. The frame on the inside was cracked and the lock no longer worked, but the latch still caught enough to hold the door in place when he closed it behind them.

  Susan’s steps slowed as they approached the driveway. A dusty black SUV was parked behind her car.

  “I’ll drive the SUV,” he told her. “I’m going to back up enough to give you room to pull out first, then I’ll follow you to the road. I want the SUV’s tracks to be the last ones left in the driveway.”

  “Okay.”

  “Once we’re on the road, I’ll pull ahead. Then all you have to do is follow me.”

  “Okay.”

  Stanislav dearly hoped he deserved the trust she was placing in him. He watched her get in the car, then climbed behind the wheel of the SUV and inserted the key. The engine roared to life when he turned it. As promised, he backed up enough to allow Susan to head down the driveway ahead of him. Once she did, he floored the accelerator. Gravel and dirt flew as he tore down the long driveway after her. If more men came looking for them and saw the tracks, he hoped they would think Henry and the others had left in a hurry, hoping to sneak away with the prize.

  As soon as he guided the SUV onto the blacktop road, he passed Susan and led her to the northwest edge of her property. A quick glance in the rearview showed no other cars on the road. Slowing the SUV, he guided it off onto the grass and into the trees.

  Susan followed, slowing her car to a stop at the SUV’s back bumper once they were out of sight of any passersby.

  Stanislav opened the driver’s door. Leaving the engine idling, he walked back to talk to her. “Wait for me here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  She nodded, her pretty face pale and tense.

  “Again, if you see or hear anything that makes you nervous, call out to me mentally.”

  “Okay.”

  He wanted to tell her it was going to be okay but honestly didn’t know if it would.

  Returning to the SUV, he eased the vehicle forward once more and carefully slipped it between two trees. The day Susan had shopped, he had walked every square foot of her property and done what he could to prepare for the worst. He hadn’t had much to work with, so the best he had come up with was the hole in which he’d placed Henry and the others and… this.

  Bringing the SUV to a halt, he put it in neutral and rolled down all the windows. In front of the bumper yawned a second pit he had dug. This one was substantially larger than the first. Beside it rose a mountain of loose soil.

  Stanislav cut the engine, exited the vehicle, and closed the driver’s door. One push sent the SUV rolling down the sharp slope to crash into the wall of dirt on the other side.

  Crossing to the mountain of soil, he grabbed the second shovel he had filched from Susan’s basement and went to work. It took longer to fill this pit. He took pains to ensure the interior of the vehicle was as packed with dirt as the exterior. He spent several more minutes spreading the excess soil around until the ground was mostly even.

  He never wanted these men’s deaths to be linked to Susan. Human cadaver dogs wouldn’t find the empty SUV. And if they found the bodies, one could argue that Susan hadn’t even known the bodies were there. They were way at the edge of her property, far enough from the house that anyone could have buried them there without her either seeing or hearing a thing. Since the men had known one of the house’s previous owners, one could argue that the bodies had been buried there before she purchased the place.

  Nevertheless, he hoped it would never come to that.

  His fist tightened around the shovel’s handle. He had to make sure it wouldn’t come to that.

  Putting on a burst of preternatural speed, he returned to Susan’s car.

  She waited in the driver’s seat, her wide eyes vigilantly scanning her surroundings. The deep furrow in her brow lessened only a little when she saw him emerge from the trees. Her gaze fell to the shovel he carried, and her throat moved in a hard swallow.

  He clenched his teeth, anger and concern warring within him. How was he going to resolve all of this? He didn’t remember who he was. He didn’t know who the men hunting him were. He didn’t know a safe place in which they could seek shelter. And he
couldn’t remember whom he could trust to help him sort this shit out.

  How the hell was he going to keep Susan safe?

  Chapter Nine

  Susan perched on the faded paisley cushions of the only chair in the cheap motel room and bit her lip as she watched Stanislav.

  While they had cleaned up the results of the violence at her home, he had been calm and collected. His cool demeanor had prevented her from freaking out. His smoothly spoken instructions had given her something to do and helped her hold it together. He had evinced a little frustration over having to ask her for directions after he had hidden the SUV and gently insisted on driving when they’d left in her car. The fact that he didn’t recognize any of the small towns they had driven through clearly bothered him. But other than that, he had been a rock.

  Her rock.

  Until he had stopped at this timeworn, out-of-the-way motel.

  Susan had gone into the front office to secure a room because Stanislav’s skin and clothing both bore bloodstains. The proprietor had thought nothing of her desire to pay up front in cash and hadn’t asked to see her ID, so she suspected the place was a sleazy rendezvous point for prostitutes and their johns, and cheating couples.

  After they’d both showered, she had tended to Stanislav’s wound while he sat quietly and let her work. But now he paced the small room like a caged tiger. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  “Talk to me,” she implored softly. “Your eyes are glowing.” From anger? From pain? From worry? “But your mind is closed to me.”

  “I need my damned memory to return,” he growled.

  Susan wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She wasn’t sure she should respond while he was wrapped in such turmoil, so she opted to remain silent.

  He cast her a penitent glance. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just…” He raked his fingers through his dark hair. “Having no past is tying my hands. I need to know where I can take you to keep you safe. I need to remember whom I can trust, who can help us extricate ourselves from this safely. There must be someone out there looking for me. Someone other than the assholes who just tried to kill us. Someone I trust or who cares about me.”

  He stopped short. A look of dread eclipsed his features.

  Rising, she took a step toward him. “Stan? What is it?”

  His stark, amber gaze met hers. “What if no one is looking for me?”

  The notion made her chest tighten. “I’m sure someone is looking for you. Friends and family. They must be.”

  He shook his head. “Then why haven’t they found me?”

  “It hasn’t been that long,” she told him. “A week and a half. Maybe two. They just need more time to—”

  “I was down in that basement for a hell of a lot longer than that,” he interrupted. “They’ve had plenty of time to find me.”

  She stared at him. He seemed certain of it, but… “That’s not possible. Without food or water—”

  “Gaining a hundred pounds of muscle overnight is impossible, but I managed to do that, didn’t I?”

  Yes, he had. Because of his rapid healing ability.

  Had that same ability enabled him to survive being buried alive for more than a week?

  She remembered with sudden clarity hearing a voice whisper to her the first time she had gone to see the house. Please, it had entreated.

  Dizziness struck. That had been three months ago. Had he been buried down there for three months? Because she had seen him do a lot of impossible things since digging him up, so being buried for three months suddenly seemed frighteningly plausible.

  Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of him suffering down there in the cold earth for so long. The isolation. The constant agony of his many wounds. The hopelessness he must have felt as day after day passed with no rescue. No respite.

  Crossing to him, she rose onto her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

  He slid his arms around her waist. “Susan?” The anger left his voice.

  She shook her head, her throat too thick to speak.

  He rocked her slightly from side to side. “Tell me,” he implored softly. “I can feel your distress.”

  “Was that you?” she choked out. “The first time I came to see the house with the real estate agent, was that you I heard whispering to me?”

  His arms tightened, his only response.

  “When I was leaving,” she said, “I heard a voice say, Please. I thought it was my imagination but…” It all made terrible sense now. “I couldn’t understand why I wanted the house so badly whenever I was there, then questioned my sanity as soon as I left. It was you, wasn’t it? You were there—manipulating my emotions, making me feel happy and eager to buy the house every time I went to see it—weren’t you?”

  “Yes,” he admitted raggedly.

  Sobs erupted from her chest.

  He swore. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t want to deceive you.”

  She shook her head. Breaking his hold, she stepped back and looked up at him. “You were down there the whole time. You had already been buried in the basement when I went to see the place for the first time.”

  “Yes,” he admitted, his face grim.

  She shook her head and swiped impatiently at her wet cheeks. “It took me five visits to finally decide to buy that house. It took another month and a half for the paperwork to go through. And I was in the house for almost a month after that before Jax led me to you and you compelled me to dig you up.”

  He said nothing, just stood there as though waiting for her to strike a blow.

  “Three months, Stanislav. You were down there for at least three months. Alone and in pain.” New tears spilled over her lashes as she shook her head. “I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to that voice, that I didn’t—”

  Shock rippled across his features. Then he lunged forward and swept her up against him, squeezing the hell out of her as he buried his face in her neck. “I thought you were angry at me,” he whispered raggedly.

  Her breath halted. “What?”

  “I felt your distress and regret and thought you were angry at me for manipulating you into buying the house.”

  Curling her arms around his neck she held him close. “No.” How could he possibly think she would hold that against him? “No, of course not.”

  “I could hear your voice.” He spoke softly, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her neck and sending a shiver through her. “The day you came to see the house for the first time, I awoke and heard you speaking to Jax.” His arms tightened almost to the point of pain. “Your voice was so beautiful. It soothed me. Brought me some measure of peace. I didn’t want you to leave.”

  “But I did,” she whispered. Imagining him down there suffering while she had been dithering over buying a fixer-upper, then puttering around the house above him, unpacking and working on her next manuscript, tore her up inside.

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “I can feel the guilt and regret pummeling you.” Relaxing his grip, he drew back enough to look down at her.

  Susan didn’t want to abandon her hold and settled instead for lowering her hands to his hips and tucking her fingers in his belt loops.

  He cupped her face in his big hands, smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks while he gazed down at her with eyes that held an amber glow. “I’m here because of you. You gave me the strength to hold on until you found me. And you’ve done your damnedest to protect me and take care of me ever since, even after discovering the alarming differences I bear.”

  “I’m thankful for those differences. Without them, you would’ve died before I even went to look at the house and I would’ve never known you.” She shook her head. “And I’m so glad I know you, Stanislav.”

  His eyes flared brighter. Lowering his head, he took her lips in a voracious kiss.

  Her heart stopped, then slammed against her ribs as ligh
tning struck. This wasn’t like the kisses he had claimed each night before they had fallen asleep. Those kisses had been gentle and affectionate.

  This one was hungry. Demanding. And set her blood on fire.

  Susan met it eagerly, parting her lips and inviting his tongue within.

  He moaned, his hard body crowding hers as he backed her up against the nearest wall.

  Yes. He felt so good against her. So strong and hot.

  She hissed in a breath as he leaned into her, letting her feel what she did to him and firing her need for more.

  The arousal Stanislav felt coursing through Susan matched his own and burned him like a brand. Her hands slid around and clutched him to her, her fingernails digging into his back.

  She tasted so good. He couldn’t get enough of her. Wanted to burrow into her. Wanted to strip the clothing from their bodies and feel every inch of her soft pale flesh against his. Wanted to bury himself deep inside her warmth and feel her squeeze him tight as she had in their shared dream.

  Every time she learned something new about him and didn’t rebuke him was like a gift. He couldn’t believe it. That Susan could accept him and his oddities even though he couldn’t explain them continued to floor him. He didn’t deserve her. Didn’t deserve this, the feel of her small hands gripping him, of her parting her thighs and inviting him to lean between them.

  He had manipulated her into buying a house she didn’t want and all she felt was regret that she hadn’t found him sooner. Could he really be so lucky? After all of the suffering, to have found a woman he thoroughly enjoyed spending time with. A woman who was kind and courageous. Who made him laugh. Who made his body burn. A woman he could love.

  A woman he did love.

  He slid one hand up her rib cage, needing to fit his palm to her breast.

  Yes. He heard her whisper in his mind. Touch me. He didn’t know if she had inadvertently broadcast her thoughts or sent them on purpose, and he didn’t care, too eager to comply.

  Inserting a thigh between hers, he rubbed it against the heart of her as he closed a hand over her breast.