by ML Guida
Kane struggled to peer over his shoulder. Two men held her arms, her hair hung in her face and her doe eyes glistening with tears.
“You don’t like the whip, Hannah?” Jacques said, his voice oily, slick. “I’ve other toys to teach your rescuer a lesson. Of course, he’ll not survive.”
The two men snickered. Kane panted, trying to catch his breath. Being immortal was a living nightmare. He wished the sun would set faster and he’d become Jacques’s living nightmare.
“No, please, I’ll do anything.”
Kane sucked in his breath. “No, Hannah. ’Tis fine, Hannah,” he mumbled. “Calm. Your. Fear. The moon. Remember…the…moon.”
She nodded her head, but her face paled.
Slow footsteps echoed in the room. Jacques’ long shadow fell over Kane. He held his breath. Jacques spun a mallet in his hand. Kane’s resolved crumpled. He turned his head and exhaled. Sweet merciful heaven.
“No,” Hannah screamed.
Kane held Jacques cruel gaze and refused to flinch, but his stomach churned, bile rising up his throat. Jacques swung and the mallet crushed Kane’s arm, pain seized him, taking his breath away and blinding his vision. Kane arched his back, released a strangle cry.
Jacques strolled around him. “Capitaine, we have only just begun, no?” He raised the mallet again and smashed it into the other arm. Extreme anguish gripped him. Between clenched teeth, Kane spat, “You’re dead, D’Aubigne.”
“Tsk, tsk, I don’t like your attitude.” Jacques swung, crushing one of Kane’s kneecaps. Agony swept over him. His blood thinned again. The sun was a half hour away from setting. He’d be a bloody mess. Jacques swung the mallet again and smashed Kane’s other kneecap. Sweat poured down Kane’s face. Dizziness swirled in his vision, but he fought passing out. “Bastard.”
“Jacques,” Hannah whispered. “I’ll do anything if you please stop.”
“No,” Kane panted, his puny voice failing to rise above Jacques’ footsteps. His breath came out sharp and fast. His incisors elongated, his tongue rolling over them. “The moon’s coming.”
“But Kane ’tis not the full moon.”
“No,” he said, “But ’tis almost full. Trust me.”
“I don’t understand what your fascination is with the moon, O’Brien, but no matter.” Jacques chuckled. “The beauty’s mine. Leave us.” Jacques ordered. “Stand guard at the top.”
His men nodded and left.
Kane chewed his cheek. “Leave her alone.” He moved his wrist and agony shot down his arm.
“Take off your clothes,” Jacques commanded.
Kane wanted to rip his heart out, but he was powerless. Useless. Worthless. A slab of tuna on a wheel. “Hannah, listen to me. You don’t have to do this. I’ll heal. Remember?”
“I’m sorry, Kane,” she sobbed. “I can’t bear to see you hurt anymore. I…I…”
“Silence, chere, or I’ll hurt him again!”
Kane tensed. Her whispery voice was filled with unsaid emotion. Was she going to say how much she cared for him? Was this why Jacques was angry?
Clothes rustled behind him. Jacques whispered. “Why chere, you’re beautiful. To the victor goes the spoil, no Capitaine?”
Kane said evenly, “You’re dead, D’Aubigne.”
“I do not think so, Capitaine. Tonight, I’ll be in heaven.”
Hannah whimpered like a terrified young girl. Soft sobs filled the dungeon and each one hurt him more than the pain in his mangled body.
“So, you’re still a virgin? But not for long.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Kane grimaced. Hannah was naked before Jacques. The wretch sucked on Hannah’s breast and she stared up at the ceiling like a sorrowful Madonna. His hands explored her trembling body and Kane could smell her fear. The bastard.
“You taste sweeter than a succulent peach, chere,” Jacques moaned. “Spread your legs wider so I can explore what’s rightfully mine.”
Hannah yelped.
The wheel creaked, preventing Kane to see what was happening. But his ears were perfect.
“You’re so tight,” Jacques said.
Hannah whimpered, “You’re hurting me.”
“Your punishment for betraying me.”
She cried out, not in pain, but in sorrow.
“Jacques, you bastard,” Kane growled.
But he only received a wicked chuckle from Jacques and desperate sob from Hannah.
The light from the lantern cast their shadows on the wall. Jacques was feasting on her womanly folds. “Cream, so sweat. You should taste her Capitaine.”
Hannah released an anguish cry, her body pressed against the wall.
“I swear I’ll kill you,” Kane promised.
“I think not. I want you to hear every cry she makes, every moan she makes to know what you’ll never have.”
Kane’s rage pumped through him. His fists ached to pound into Jacque’s leering face. The man dared to touch his woman. He’d never wanted a woman like he did Hannah, and Jacques was soiling her, terrifying her, hurting her. The bastard liked pain. He’d give him pain.
Kane’s blood thinned once more and his heart slowed. The dying hunger filled his soul. The moon had risen. “This is your last warning,” he growled.
The wheel creaked around and Kane sucked in his breath — powerless to do anything but watch. Jacques had dropped his breeches, his cock erect. He pinned Hannah’s shoulders against the wall. “Now O’Brien, her legs are wide, waiting for me to plunge into her, take what’s mine.” He grabbed Hannah’s hair and she cried out. “Get ready, bitch.”
The door slammed open. The two guards tumbled down the stairs.
“What’s this?” Jacques snarled.
“No, no, they’re back,” she whispered.
“Get away from her,” Doc snarled. Kane smiled. Finally. His men had arrived. Revenge was his.
“Mère de Dieu.” Jacques fumbled pulling up his breeches and he nearly fell. He wobbled to the cell and braced himself against the wall.
“No,” Hannah yelled, “Leave him alone.” She rushed to Kane’s side and grabbed the mallet off the floor.
“Hannah, êtes-vous fou?” Jacques shouted. “They’ll kill you.”
She stood naked with her legs shoulder length apart and held the mallet over her shoulder. She was a wild Amazon, ready to fight for him. He wanted to grab her and kiss her. “Stay back,” she warned.
“Hannah, ’tis me, Doc.”
“Doc?” She still clasped the mallet in her hand.
“Aye, lassie,” Sean said. “’Tis us.”
“Hannah, look at me,” Kane said, “’Tis the full moon.”
She glanced at him. Kane held his breath. Her eyes grew wide and her lower lip trembled. The same hollow feeling gripped him. She wore the same repulsive look William gave him.
Monster. Demon. Vampire.
“Mother of God,” she whispered.
She edged away, still clutching the mallet. “Give me a minute. I can’t think. Your eyes. They’re like Palmer’s when…when his men murdered my father’s crew.”
Kane tensed. “Doc.”
Doc ran over to Kane. “Where are the damn keys?”
Kane tilted his head. “He’s got them.”
“Stay away from me,” Jacques begged.
Amadi stormed over to Jacques. “Give me da keys or you’re dead.”
“Here! Take them.” Jacques threw the keys at him. Amadi unlocked the shackles and pulled Kane to a sitting position. The jagged spikes ripped through his flesh as he moved. Kane gritted his teeth. Pain gripped him with every breath he took.
Her breasts heaving up and down, Hannah stared at him, her back against the wall. She held the mallet in front of her.
Sean shook his head. “Mary Mother of God, what the hell happened to you, Captain?”
“D’Aubigne had his way with me,” Kane whispered. “Need blood.”
Hannah gasped.
Kane slumped against Sean who held him upright
. He’d been here to protect her, but now that she’d seen his true monstrous form, he’d lost her. Sean lifted Kane off the wheel. Kane panted and wanted to cry like a wee lass, but he hardened his face and stayed immobile, trying to block out the agony. He dangled from Sean like a broken puppet. The hunger gripped his stomach and his mouth grew thirsty. This was just the beginning.
“I’ll get ye food, Capt’n,” Amadi promised. He marched into the cell where Jacques cowered in the corner, grabbed his shirt, and hoisted him off the floor by the back of his neck.
Jacques wiggled and kicked. “I gave you the keys now get away from me. No!”
“I don’t think so, maaasssttteeer,” Amadi said.
“Amadi?” Jacques stammered. "No. Please…”
Amadi hauled him over to Kane and exposed Jacques’ neck. Kane glanced at Hannah. Her face paled and her mouth widened. He didn’t have a choice. The curse demanded to be satisfied.
Ignoring Jacques’s pleas and Hannah’s revulsion, Kane licked his lips at the blood pulsing through Jacques’s veins. Kane’s fangs lengthened and he sunk his teeth deep into the salty flesh, sucking hard on the sweet, nourishing liquid. A surge of strength filled his body and the pain lessened, the broken pieces of bones fell into place, his muscles mended, but he needed more, much more. As Jacques’s heartbeat slowed, he forced himself to stop. This time, he didn’t lap Jacques’ wounds clean like he usually did with his victims. He wanted him to remember. “We’ll meet again D’Aubigne but next time we meet, I‘ll kill you not as a vampire but as a man.”
Amadi dropped Jacques’s unconscious body to the floor.
Kane glanced at Hannah, her back pressed against the wall. Her naked breasts heaved up and down. He wanted to rip the blasted mallet out of her hands, reassure her, and wrap his arms around her, but his useless arms couldn’t hold a kitten let alone a furious Amazon.
He nodded to Michael. “Go get her clothes.”
Michael grabbed her dress and tossed them to her. She stared warily.
Kane sighed. “Hannah, get dressed.”
She tilted her head and aimed the mallet at him. “No.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Would you rather stay here?” He tilted his head at Jacques. “With him.”
Hannah slowly lowered the mallet. The light glowed on her womanly curves. He wanted to shield her from his men’s appreciative stares, but he was powerless. He nodded and the men moved back and lowered their gaze as she quickly dressed.
Looking down at Jacques, Kane grumbled, “Strap him to the wheel.”
“With pleasure,” Amadi said. Both he and Michael strapped D’Aubigne to the wheel and gagged his mouth. Spikes tore into his calves, but Kane didn’t draw any pleasure from it. This was a lesson, one Jacques would never forget.
Fully clothed, Hannah picked up the mallet. “Stay back.”
Her coiffure was spoiled, the loose ringlets half up, half down dangled from the hair pins. The determination and fear in her eyes warned she’d bash their heads in if they came near her. How had his plans gone so badly? He wanted to save Hannah, rescue her from this madman, apologize for making a mistake in sending her away in the first place. But now, he’d lost her. Kane shook his head. “Let’s get out of here before we’re discovered.”
Michael kicked the wheel, spinning D’Aubigne around. Jacques moaned. Michael smiled. “Aye, captain.”
Kane stood, pain shot through his left leg and he bit back a curse. “I can’t walk,” Kane grumbled.
Hannah knotted her eyebrows. “But you’re a vampire?”
“A broken one,” Kane mumbled.
She chewed her lip. Did sympathy fill her eyes? Or was he imagining it? But she gripped the mallet, aiming it higher at him and his men.
Sean hauled one of Jacque’s unconscious men over. “Here, Captain, drink. Or you’ll never heal.”
“Yes, Captain, do drink,” Hannah mocked.
Kane winced. Her sarcasm tore through him. Avoiding her eyes, Kane drank from the unconscious man, his blood running to his injuries, the shattered bones further healing and the sinew knitting together. Kane felt the man’s heartbeat slow and broke loose before he killed him, throwing his head back. He licked his lips and took a deep breath. “I can walk.”
“You need more,” Doc urged.
Sean dropped the other man, and he lay next to his counterpart. Kane stood. His arms still hung useless at side, but in a few days, he’d heal. Doc held the other man. Kane wanted to hide, wishing Hannah hadn’t seen him succumb to the curse.
“Let’s move,” Kane ordered. He glanced at Michael. “D’ye feed already?”
“Of course, Captain,” Michael said.
Hannah snorted. Kane bristled, but clamped his mouth shut.
Sean walked up the stairs first. They followed his path. Kane kept close to Hannah. As they edged away from the foul smelling cellar, Hannah’s fresh scent of jasmine lingered in the air, easing his nerves. He wanted to bury himself in her hair and kiss her neck. A fragile hope swelled inside him that Hannah would be able to see past the monster within him and see the man. Each step, shot agony through his legs. His kneecaps had healed, but his legs were still weak. His arms pulsed with pain in his shoulders. Doc was right. But he refused to play monster one more time in front of Hannah. He’d deal with the blasted pain.
Sean opened the dungeon door and led them into the kitchen’s pitch darkness. All was quiet in the house. The wooden floor creaked and Kane winced. Crickets chirped outside. Where were the guards? A door creaked open, moonlight streamed into the kitchen, and Kane held his breath. “This way,” Sean said.
They followed Sean outside. Crickets stopped chirping, alerting their presence. The rest of his men and Hannah sprinted across the yard. Kane took off running, pain seared through him, and fell onto all fours. He bit back a ragged scream. A ruffled skirt brushed against his face. He raised his head. Hannah peered down at him, offering her hand. “Here let me help you,” she said.
“I can’t…”
Before he could finish, Hannah knelt down, slipped her arm under his and hugged him next to her trembling body. “Lean on me.”
She was trying to help him. Why? He narrowed his eyes. “But…”
“Just do it, Kane.” She held the mallet in her other hand and her face was still hard and cold, but her touch was gentle.
His men turned and Amadi hurried back. Kane leaned against Hannah’s slender form. Her jasmine aroma filled his senses, diminishing the pain.
Amadi came up behind them. “Let me.”
She tilted her chin. “I was trying to help him.”
“I know,” Amadi answered, as he wrapped his arms around Kane’s waist and dragged him to his feet. “But we’ve got to hurry. Now come on.”
Kane didn’t argue. They needed to get out and get back on aboard the Soaring Phoenix. Would Hannah give him any trouble about returning to the ship? She’d little choice.
Doc and Sean drove a carriage. Michael was on the back end. Amadi half carried him to the carriage. Hannah climbed inside with her trusty mallet. Amadi helped him inside. Hannah glared and gripped her weapon. This was going to be a fun ride.
“Amadi, we need to be alone.”
Amadi glanced at Hannah. “Aye, aye, Captain.” He shut the door.
Hannah stared out the opposite window. The horses clomped and the wheels creaked. The carriage jostled and he sucked in his breath, agony throbbed in his shoulders.
“Are you in pain?”
Her low voice hinted with concern, but he wasn’t sure. He wanted to see her eyes, but shadows covered her face. “Do you care if I am?”
Hannah sighed and rested the mallet next to her. “Yes, Kane, I do.”
“But?”
“You brought back...” She hesitated and stared down at her lap. “Memories.”
“You mean nightmares.”
“Yes. You’ve killed innocent people, Kane.”
He leaned his head back. She’d never forgive him. Hell, he hadn’t
forgiven himself. Why would she? “I’ve not changed, Hannah. I’m still the same man. ’Tis a nightmare for me too.”
“Your eyes…they haunt me.”
He sighed. “I know I’m a monster.” He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain. He didn’t know what hurt most—his shoulders or Hannah’s rejection. She was going to leave him anyway.
“I tried to resist the curse. But after we drank from Zuto’s lake, the full moon came. Food turned to ash in our mouths and liquid scalded our throats. Our throats felt like they’d been scored by dagger blades, we couldn’t swallow. Our bellies constantly ached. I couldn’t ease the suffering of my crew.”
The horses outside snorted. He turned his head and stared at the condemning moon. “For the next few days, our hunger grew. Our skin burned until bright red and turned thin and gaunt. Blisters formed on the backs of our throat.”
She gasped. He couldn’t look at her and see the condemnation in her eyes. He didn’t want her sympathy, just for her to simply understand.
“A Spanish Galleon overtook us. The crew boarded us, a deadly mistake. They thought we were devils and they were right, but the knowledge didn’t save them.”
“What happened?”
He closed his eyes, reliving the horror again. “A sailor whipped out his sword and engaged me in a duel. We were quite a sight. In my duel, I cut the sailor’s arm.”
The carriage bounced and pain jabbed Kane’s shoulder. He sucked in his breath and his fingers dug into the leather cushion seat.
“Kane, are you well?”
Her voice fearful, he hoped she cared a little. “Aye,” he lied. Sweat poured down his face and he wished he had a bottle of rum to numb the pain.
“So, what happened when you cut the sailor’s arm?”
“Lust filled me. I never smelled anything so sweet, so spicy, so tantalizing. I dropped my sword and attacked him, grabbing his arm, sinking my teeth into his flesh. The poor bastard screamed and stabbed me in the heart with his sword. To my surprise, I didn’t die.”
“But he did?”
“Aye, he did. I drained him.”
The moonlight peered through the carriage window onto Hannah’s face. Her look of revulsion turned his stomach. He wanted to sink into the seat, but continued his story. She had to know. He didn’t want this anymore than she did. He wasn’t Palmer.