“I cannot,” she hissed. “If I do, then he’s truly gone, my little brother. I could not…I could not protect him.”
Tula’s hand rested on her shoulder and squeezed. “No, you could not, but you can avenge him and avenge him we will, Catherine. All of them. And when we do, we will return Bastian to your side and rid ourselves of this demon who dares to call himself our Master.”
The vehemence of his words filled Catherine and she nodded before stepping forward to light the pyres, one after the other. The flames ate at the wood and the four bodies hungrily. Smoke filled the air, but it did not bother her or any of the other vampires. She glanced to the pile of dead bodies, the vampires that Antony had sent, and her lip lifted in a snarl. Antony’s face rose up in her mind and she imagined herself separating his head from his body, the agony in his eyes when he realized his plans had failed, all of them had failed, and he would be left to rot in this remote part of the new world. Away from anyone who might ever find his remains.
“Have you sensed anything of Bastian?” Tula asked later, once the flames had devoured the pyres and the vampires had moved from them to the camp. Kendi walked by her other side as the others gathered supplies.
“No, nothing, but I fear if I try, Antony will be waiting.”
“Antony?” Tula asked, brow scrunched.
“The Master, his name is Antony, and he is nothing more than a murderous coward,” she hissed.
She had not been able to see long into his mind, but she knew enough to understand the man’s motives now. Fear drove him to create this army of his; there was no righteousness about it. He did it simply out of fear. Whoever he ran from, he knew he could never hope to defeat them on his own, so he scoured the world, building an army to fight beside him.
“He believes someone is coming for him, but who that is, I do not know. I only saw glimpses into his mind,” she said quietly. “I could try again, but he’s stronger than me. I might not make it back.”
“You fought against him the last time,” Kendi insisted. “You are stronger than you think.”
“For how long, though? I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time,” she admitted. “Bastian’s mind is the only one I feel truly connected to, and Antony’s is a jumbled mess of all those he’s taken under his power. There are so many rampaging thoughts in his head,” she said, and winced. “It’s hard to find which ones are his.”
Tula scratched his chin. “What else did you say you found the last time? A woman in darkness?”
“Jocasta,” she said quietly. “I think she was the one who turned him, but his fear had nothing to do with her. It was something much worse.”
“How far to the fort?” Kendi asked.
Tula peered into the shadows of the night. “We would reach it by morning, but with no chance of seeking shelter, we would risk the sun.”
“Where are they, then?” Catherine asked. “They have to be hiding somewhere.”
“Do they?” Tula mused and sat down on a stump nearby. “Why move towards the fort to begin with? There are plenty of paths that take them around it so why risk going so close to it?”
Kendi paced around, while Catherine’s hands went to her hips. Her eyes darted to the flames dying down from the pyres and thoughts of Liam sent a fresh ripple of pain through her chest. She turned to look the other way, and ignored the sympathetic glances from the other two. Now was not a time for weakness. She’d been weak enough through all of this. She had to be strong now, for Bastian, to end this madness brought by Antony.
“You believe they would chance stealing humans from it to feed?” Kendi asked.
“Perhaps, but it would be a fool’s risk to do so with so many,” Tula argued. “No, there must be another reason.”
Catherine closed her eyes and focused on those few glimpses she’d had into Antony’s mind. If only she’d latched onto more of his memories, she would have an idea of what he feared so badly that he had to create an entire army of vampires. And not just normal vampires; though he had them by his side, he was mostly after those with greater potential. She shut her eyes even tighter and before she realized what she had done, her mind linked to Antony’s, and her feet staggered.
“Catherine?” Tula asked and two strong hands held her shoulders.
She wanted to answer, but was uncertain if Antony would hear her. So far, he didn’t seem to notice her presence. Though she rested inside his mind, she saw what he saw and took in as much as she could. He stood on a dock staring out into the vast waters of the Atlantic, waiting for a ship to appear, but not one he actually wanted to see. He hissed, and Catherine swelled with the same rage flowing through his blood, followed by the fear coming swiftly behind it.
Soon they will come and I will be ready for them, Antony thought. The Order will not hold me, not again.
He turned and stomped back down the dock, straight into the walls of the fort. Vampires rushed to and fro and Catherine fought back the urge to gasp in surprise at how many she sensed. The fort was filled with vampires and from their dress, many were the late occupants of the place itself. How long had he been there? She wanted to ask, wanted to poke around his mind for more, but Tula shook her shoulders hard and called her name over and over again. She wanted to bat his hands away, but another sound reached her mind and just as she was yanked from the connection, Antony paused and whispered her name. Too late; she was already slamming back into her mind.
“What?” she hissed. “I was with him. He has the fort and he’s waiting for something called the Order.”
The sound of footsteps rushed through the trees around them and Catherine realized what she heard. From the grim set of Tula’s face, he heard it too. Kendi hissed quietly and turned his back on her to face whatever threat came their way head on. The vampires near the tents slowed their movements, but continued to gather supplies.
Catherine counted the sets of steps and cursed quietly. At least twenty, if not more. She breathed deep, scenting the air and frowned. Humans. These men were not sent by Antony.
“The Order,” she whispered.
Tula glanced sideways at her, lips parted, but the words never made it out.
Gunfire erupted around them, shocking in the stillness of the humid night. Tula shoved Catherine down, as bark on the trees close by exploded. She was only ever around musket fire once in her life, the night of the attack on her village. The sound was deafening and her ears rang as men yelled from the trees. They charged into the camp in a full out attack, and Catherine pushed to her feet in defense. Tula called her back, but she ignored him, and went after the first man who crossed her path.
Her hands latched onto his throat and spun him around, slamming him into a tree. He gasped, the musket falling from his hands, and Catherine lunged towards him with a snarl. When she was ready to latch onto his neck, her gaze took in his dress, and she faltered. The man aimed a punch to her side, catching her off guard, and he fumbled for a dagger at his belt. He slashed at her chest and she leapt back, but not quick enough. The blade drew blood in a thin line across her collarbone and the man leered in triumph, until Kendi tackled him from the side and broke his neck.
“We must move,” he urged, and grabbed Catherine, but her feet would not listen. “What are you doing? There are too many! Tula waits for us.”
“These men,” she whispered, studying the dead one’s face as another popped into her mind. “I’ve seen them before.” She glanced around, and before Kendi could stop her, she charged back into the chaos of the camp.
More gunfire erupted around her and the vampire to her right fell backwards, blood seeping from a wound at his neck. She rushed to his side, but two men tackled her to the ground and a third rushed in and drew a sword. He slashed down as she yelled in horror. The vampire’s head rolled close by, eyes frozen open in anger at its death.
All around her, the others were being taken down and killed. They were completely overrun.
“No! Let me go!” she snarled, and yelling in rage, m
anaged to break free of the two men holding her down. She made it to her feet, slamming her fist into the head of one of the men, and slamming the other’s head into her knee, before taking off again. All these men, they were at her village. It was happening all over again and she still could not save those around her. “Tula! Kendi!”
Why had she run back in? She was a fool, and as she glanced around frantic to find them, she knew it was too late. Their hope of reaching Bastian and freeing him died with each vampire who fell to the ground, dead.
“Catherine!” Tula yelled and she whipped around to see him rushing towards her, hand outstretched. Kendi was right behind him.
She latched onto his hand and they aimed for the trees, but just as they’d almost reached cover, another line of men surged forward and in seconds they were completely surrounded, muskets and swords aimed at them. There was no escape. She flashed her fangs at the men. They ranged in age and race, but they all bore the same expression: disgust and hatred. Not one of them was afraid to face vampires. They were part of this Order that Antony feared and they had reached the far side of the world.
“What are you doing? Our orders were to kill them…Catherine?”
The voice struck her as familiar and she glanced to see who spoke. A man sat astride a horse, holding a pistol and staring in shock. When he urged the massive beast forward and the moonlight brushed his face, she hissed and stepped backwards.
“No, no it’s not possible,” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”
“You are a vampire?” he asked instead of answering. “No, this was not supposed to happen. It cannot be. Lower your arms!” he ordered, and Catherine watched in stunned silence as the men did as he said.
“Sir, we must hold them if we are not going to kill them,” a white haired man demanded.
“Fine, chain them, but do not kill them.” he said and reached out, “Catherine?” but she flinched back. “You recognize me, yes? Or has the beast fully taken control of you?”
Her eyes narrowed as a man reached for her wrists, but she yanked them away. “Do not dare touch me! What are you doing here, Charles? Why are you with these men? They destroyed our camp! Do you have any idea what you have done?”
His mouth fell open at her words, but he waved away the man holding out the chains. “Take these other two back to camp.”
“You had better not kill them,” Catherine threatened, “or I will rip your throat out.”
Charles’ face turned hard as he spoke to his men. “We will keep them alive, for now. Catherine and I need to talk.”
“You know this demon?” one of the men asked quietly.
“Yes, or at least I used to,” Charles said and turned sideways. “We will take a longer way back to our camp.”
“And those men?” she asked as six heavily armed men, fell instep behind them.
He glanced over his shoulder. “You must forgive them for their lack of trust, but you are one of the enemy now and if they allow their leader’s son to be killed, it will be their necks on the line.”
“You do not trust me either?”
He sighed, and they walked slowly behind the men who were dragging a hissing Kendi and a much too quiet Tula. Tula listened to the conversation behind him and Catherine made certain to speak loud enough so he would hear every word.
“I cannot trust you Catherine, not while you are one of them. You are unclean and the darkness speaks through you,” Charles said seriously, his head hanging low.
She could not hold back the cackle as it slipped past her lips. “Yes of course, the darkness.”
“This is no laughing matter,” he snapped and stopped abruptly. “I have been sent here to extinguish the vampires and you are one of them. By rights I can kill you right now—”
“By rights? Whose rights?” she snapped and before any of the men could stop her, she wrapped one hand tightly around his throat and backed him into a nearby tree, snarling in his face. “My home was torn apart by your men! I recognize them all. They snatched me and my brother away, they killed those under your protection! By rights, I could kill you right now and no one would be able to stop me. Not even your little soldiers.”
The men moved behind her, but Charles subtly shook his head and they halted. Catherine waited for him to speak, to explain how any of this made sense, but his gaze darkened and he breathed heavily through his nostrils.
“You are not the same Catherine I once knew,” he said, and she hated the sadness in his voice.
“No, I am not,” she replied. “That Catherine was killed the night she was ripped from her home, taken across the sea and sold as a slave to a vampire.” She gripped him harder and threw him away into his men. “You and your father did nothing to stop it that night! Nothing!”
“We weren’t supposed to,” Charles coughed out, holding his throat. The men helped him to his feet and moved in immediately to surround Catherine.
His words hit her hard and she glared. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you and the others were supposed to be taken to Rome, not here.”
“What?” she asked. “I don’t understand. Why take us at all? How were you involved in this?” She charged towards him, but he moved faster than she anticipated, and a moment later she was held tightly in his arms, a blade at her chest, aimed for her heart. Hissing quietly, she stilled and one of the men took a set of manacles from his hip.
“We can finish this discussion later when you are in a better mood,” he whispered in her ear.
Catherine snapped her jaws at him as he handed her over to the others. “Liam is dead because of you,” she yelled as they dragged her away. “My mother is dead because of you!”
“Your mother is alive,” he told her, and Catherine froze. “She knew what was coming because we told her. She is alive and well back home.”
“You lie,” she hissed, but she had no proof to say otherwise. She never saw if her mother lived or died that night. Never knew.
“I do not lie. I am one of the Order and we are the defenders of innocents. We are the righteous warriors who stand between humans and the darkness,” he seethed as he stalked towards her. “And your mother is alive. She willingly gave up you and your brother, so you could join us in this life.”
Catherine spat in his face and leered as he angrily lifted a hand to wipe it away. “Is this the life I was meant to have? Does she know her children never reached their true destination? Perhaps I should write her and tell her the good news that her only son is dead and her daughter is one of the undead!”
“I am afraid you will never see her again,” Charles stated coldly, and the young man she once loved disappeared from her heart and mind. This man before her was a cold-hearted soldier and nothing more.
“No? Maybe one day I’ll find my way home and take my revenge out on your family—”
Charles backhanded her hard, but the pain barely registered to the betrayal and agony building in her chest. Catherine cackled as he smacked her again, and at the sound of his voice as he yelled at his men to get her out of his sight. She let them pull her along, laughing the entire way, until they reached a camp only a few leagues away. The men glared at her openly as they threw her into a cage with Tula and Kendi, a locked cage within a heavy canvas tent to block out the sun.
As the last man left the tent, he gripped his dagger hard in warning, then let the flaps close behind him. The moment they were alone, Catherine hugged her knees to her chest, feeling like a child again, and buried her face as the tears came.
“You know that man?” Tula asked her quietly.
“Knew him,” she corrected, without raising her head. “A long time ago, I thought I knew him.”
She waited for Tula to push her for more answers, but he did not, and instead spoke quietly with Kendi, leaving Catherine to her ever-darkening thoughts. Charles was the last person she ever expected to see again and certainly not leading men from the Order. They were here for Antony, but they simply slaughtered any vampires th
ey met. And what had he meant about her and Liam going to Rome? Their mother simply handed them over. The villagers killed that night, why had they done that if they were supposed to go willingly.
Everything she thought she knew about her home, about her mother and friends, it was all a lie. If she had gone to Rome instead of Bastian’s island, would she ever have met him, fallen in love?
Or would she have been the one sent to hunt him down and kill him?
The thought chilled her blood and she buried her face completely, wanting nothing more than to be in the arms of the man she loved and forget that any of this had ever happened.
Chapter 3
All throughout the hot day with the sun pressing down on the canvas tent, Catherine dreamt of Bastian, saw him lying beside her as they talked quietly and kissed, holding hands, and acting as any normal human couple would. The sun shone over their bodies and a cool wind blew off the coast, brushing across her skin. The image was nearly perfect, but when Catherine sat up to see his face, it was hollow, filled with darkness, and then his body followed.
She scrambled away from him in the sand, as darkness fell over the beach and she was left trembling and alone. She tried calling out, but the words would not form and suddenly she was trapped inside a dark cell in a room made of stone.
Catherine glanced at the other cells and realized she was not being held in one. She was free to move around and move she did, taking in every detail that met her eyes. The cells on the far wall were filled with men and women, all around her age with some even younger. Their eyes were filled with uncertainty and fear. Several stared blankly ahead. A high-pitched shriek issued from the last cell and Catherine hurried to it, peering into the shadows to see a young woman, rocking back and forth as she held her knees to the ground, crying. Her body was battered and bruised, covered in scrapes, and she repeated something, muttering to the floor, but the words did not reach Catherine’s ears.
“She has broken,” a familiar voice said, the deep baritone stronger than she remembered. “Take her to the other cells and be rid of her. She is too weak for this life.”
SV02-06. Slave to a Vampire Page 33