First Blade (Awakening Book 1)

by Jane Hinchey

  The only relief? When he finally withdrew his fangs and her mind was floating, up and away, somewhere else, away from here. During those moments she was unaware, she was outside of herself, no pain, no fear. She'd slowly come back to awareness, broken and bleeding where he'd left her, a tray of food on the floor. She had no idea who brought it, never heard or saw them, but each day, the food and water would appear. She forced herself to eat and drink and walk around and around in her cell, trying to keep up her strength.

  No one else touched her. No one else saw her. Spoke to her. She was isolated and alone and Marius was her world. Her world of never ending agony. Thoughts of escape flitted through her mind, but so far no solid plan. If an opportunity presented itself, she wouldn't hesitate. If it meant she was killed in the process, so be it. Death was more appealing than this.

  Slowly a kernel of an idea came to her. The food tray. Whoever was bringing the food tray expected her to be comatose. They probably left the door open for those couple of minutes. That's all she needed, catch them off guard. She only had one shot at this.

  During Marius's next visit, she stayed present. Tears streamed from her eyes at the pain of his bite, but she kept her mind present. His fingers bruised as they dug into her shoulders, and she almost let herself slip away. No! Stay! This was her chance; today was her chance. Marius was quiet, which helped. No taunting words or laughter, no groping at her body. He drank and moved away, not pausing to look down at her. He was distracted and she was grateful, for she feared he would notice the change in her and sense something was up.

  She was right! He strode to the door, flung it open and walked out, leaving it gaping open behind him. Straight away a small form scurried in, carrying a tray. The person came closer and Georgia realized it was a girl, human. How odd. She'd have thought they'd have a vamp guarding her, but then she supposed they thought she was too weak to escape. The girl was by her side, placing the tray on the floor. Now! Kicking out she knocked the girl's feet from under her, sending her toppling backward. Springing up she clamped a hand over the girl's mouth to stop any sound. The girl fought back, clearly no warrior by the way she ineffectively slapped at her. One punch to the jaw and the girl was out like a light. No time. No time to steal the girl's clothes. No time, she had to make this quick.

  Across the room, out the door, closing it behind her. Naked in the dim light of the hallway. Trembling legs carried her to the staircase and she slowly crawled her way up them. Would they miss the girl? How long before someone came searching for her? With shaking hands, she cracked open the door at the top of the stairs. Kitchen. Yes, that's right. She vaguely remembered when they'd first brought her here that the door to the basement was via the kitchen.

  Empty. Bare feet made no sound across the tiled floor; keeping low, she pressed against the cupboards, ears straining for any sound. She couldn't rely on her senses here, the house was full of vampires, she couldn't tell how close one was with all the signals jamming up her brain. She spied a sliding door. Darting across the room she slid it open and silently slipped outside.

  She'd done it! She was outside. It was pitch black but her eyes were used to the dark now. She could make out the shape of trees not far away, so she broke into a run, streaking across what felt like lawn beneath her feet. Breath rasping she clutched at the first tree, hugging the trunk and sliding her body around it so she was hidden behind it. The bark scraped her skin but she didn't feel it. Shouts sounded from the house. Fuck! Already?

  Taking off at a run, she plowed through the trees, breath sawing in and out of aching lungs, twigs, and rocks digging into her bare feet as she raced through...what? A forest? Don't know, don't care, just keep running.

  "Oooof," she was torpedoed from the side, a hard body diving into her, arms of steel trapping her arms by her side as they plowed into the dirt. She felt layers of skin ripping away where they landed. No. No, no, no. She screamed, kicked, bit and scratched. A slap to the face had her seeing stars and she was tossed over a shoulder, nausea roiling through her as the hard shoulder dug into her stomach.

  In a matter of seconds, she was back in her cell, thrown painfully against the wall. Cuts and scrapes bled and stung, and only adrenaline was keeping her going. She couldn't have failed this. She couldn't. Yet she had. The proof was irrefutable.

  Marius stormed into the cell, the door smashing back against the wall. His energy rolled from him in waves of anger as he stood before her.

  Grabbing her by the throat, he spun her to face the wall. "Hold her." Her arms were stretched out from her sides and a vamp on each side of her kept each wrist pinned against the wall. Then she heard it, a swish of air before the stinging ropes of a whip cut into the flesh of her back. Her breath hissed in and she held it, unable to breathe, the pain in her back stunning her. On it went, lash after lash. She didn't scream, couldn't, she had no breath. She was dying.

  She didn't remember it stopping, but it must have. She was lying on the mattress, her bloody back pressing against the foam, the pressure of her own weight adding to the torture.

  "If you think I'll kill you and let you escape me like that, you're sorely mistaken."

  She couldn't focus; she could see a dark shape standing over her but everything was shimmering and moving, the walls swaying, the floor moving up and down like she was at sea.

  "There is no escape, Georgia. You're mine. And no one is coming."

  No one is coming.

  He'd said that before, but she'd still hoped there was a chance of rescue. That Frank and the other warriors would try and find her. They hadn't. Marius was right. No one was coming. In that moment, she willed her heart to stop. Just stop beating. This could all be over. Stop damn you. But it didn't. It kept on, ka-thump, ka-thump, ka-thump. She closed her eyes on a shudder.

  Dark mist swirled, wrapping around her, bringing that oh so old and familiar tingling. She almost grinned. It seemed so long ago when Zak had invaded her dreams. Oh, how she missed him. Her imagination was playing tricks on her, fooling her into thinking he was with her, but she'd take it. She'd take any comfort she could in this hellhole.

  "Mine." His voice rolled through her mind, so familiar. He'd said it before, hadn't he? Yes. She was his. At the time she'd denied it, but now? Yes. His. Marius was fooling himself if he thought Georgia was really his - she would always belong to Zak. Always.

  "Georgia...love...I'm coming for you."

  "Nobody is coming," she whispered. She felt those warm lips against her forehead, so light, so gentle, careful not to hurt her.

  "I'm coming. Hold on."

  "Okay." She thought she felt him grin at her uncharacteristic compliance, but it hurt too much to try and figure things out. With a ragged sigh, she slipped into oblivion.

  22

  "She's alive," Zak addressed his warriors in the conference room. "Barely."

  "You reached her?" Skye jumped to her feet in excitement. "What did she say, where is she?"

  "We didn't get the chance to chat. She's weak. Hurt. Barely conscious."

  "Can you find her? Lock onto her or something?"

  Zak sighed, pinching the top of his nose between his fingers. "Last time it was easy because of the first blade, but she doesn't have it with her, so now it's...more difficult. I will keep trying, but at least we know she's alive. And she knows we're coming for her."

  "Sire!" Aston spun from the console where he'd been tapping away, "Veronica is on the move. Big time!"

  Frank and Zak gathered behind Aston to watch on the screen as the tracking device they'd hidden on Veronica flashed, moving across the screen, jumping from spot to spot, hundreds of miles between each landing.

  "What the?" Frank muttered.

  "She's teleporting," Zak muttered. "She doesn't have the skill or power, so someone is jumping with her."

  "Who?"

  "My best guess? The original that they've woken. I've known of no other who can teleport."

  "Looks like they've stopped." Anton pointed to the now stat
ionary red dot blinking on the screen.

  "Where?"

  "Azur Falls. Give me a minute, I can zoom in and get you an exact address."

  "Perfect. Frank, round up the troops, we're going to Azur Falls."

  "And Skye?"

  "Shit. She's too new. Ok, someone is going to have to stay behind with her."

  "Dainton will do it. He's a little bit smitten with her; he's been spending an awful lot of time with her already, showing her the ropes so to speak."

  "See to it," Zak ordered, his mind already miles away. "Aston, arrange a private charter. We're going to have to fly in, I won't be able to teleport since I have no point of reference. We can't fly commercial, we'll need our weapons. Arrange transport the other end as well."

  "On it."

  It was hard to count the passing of time when you had no point of reference, no clock to watch, no window to mark the passage of time between night and day. Georgia lay on the mattress and dozed. Her whole body was a giant ball of pain. She sat up, the dried blood on her back stuck to the mattress, reopening the wounds when she gritted her teeth and pulled herself upright.

  The food tray was there, waiting for her. She ate and drank, then looked at the door. Something looked different. Tilting her head she studied it. It looked...bowed. Twisted. Had Marius damaged it in his rage?

  Hobbling over she took a closer look, running her fingers around the edge where the wood was now warped. With an excited breath, she realized she could squeeze her fingers through the gap. If she could push the deadbolt in...she'd be free. Again. She knew if she chanced a second attempt and was caught Marius would most likely kill her. Even though he said he wouldn't, she knew he couldn't tolerate disobedience. She'd tried to flee from him twice. She was pretty sure that was an act punishable by death. Bring it on, she grinned.

  Sweating, trembling, fingers bleeding, she did it. The lock clicked in. She froze. Could she do this? Could she try to escape again, even weaker than before, risk her life, for Marius surely would kill her this time, for one last shot at freedom? Hell yeah!

  Her dream of Zak flickered through her mind, giving her strength.

  Her luck held. No one was outside the door, guarding her. Moving up the stairs on silent feet she eased open the door at the top, cautiously peeking beyond into the kitchen. No one was in sight and a quick glance to the right had her sighing in relief. Sunlight streamed in through the kitchen window.

  No sneaking this time; she quickly hurried to the sliding door and let herself outside.

  The sunlight hurt her eyes after weeks of being kept in the dark. She squinted and raised an arm to shelter her face as she took stock of her surroundings. It was hot, the air heavy and oppressing. Vamps wouldn't last a minute in this blazing sun.

  The house was as huge as she'd imagined. It was at least three stories high with carefully manicured gardens. To the right of her was a massive garage. Keeping low, she darted across and tried the side door. Locked. Glancing down the driveway she saw that it was barred by huge gates and atop of them, security cameras. No going out the front way.

  To the left was the crop of trees where she'd been re-captured. Should she go that way? Who knew what was beyond those trees; she just knew she needed to put as much space as possible between this house and her.

  Following the length of the garage, she inched along towards the rear of the property. The garden was huge. The area directly behind the house had lush green lawn surrounded by well cared for flower beds around the perimeter. A hedge divided a swimming pool from view of the house, and beyond that another hedge.

  She skirted around the pool, breathing easier now she was out of view of the house. Behind the second hedge was a small shed that looked like it housed the pump and materials for the pool. Alongside were gardening implements, rubble, old building scraps and a very old timber fence running across what she assumed was the boundary of the property.

  She scrambled over the fence, dropping with a thud and a wheeze into the alley beyond. Keeping to the shade as best she could she limped along, stones digging into her bare feet, sweat running into her eyes. She cast an eye upward, the sun bearing down from directly overhead. Midday. That didn't give her long to get far, far away. As soon as they realized she was missing they'd be out looking for her in force, and with their sense of smell and tracking skills, holing up somewhere nearby was not an option.

  She'd been on the move for over an hour following the crude dirt track. She must be getting closer to civilization as other houses began to appear, backing onto the alley. She had no idea where she was but these alleys were old; under her feet the dirt had changed to cobblestones, most of them covered by a thin layer of soil. No one had bothered to lay bitumen, yet the glimpses she got of houses on the other side of the fences showed well-kept expensive looking homes.

  Spying women's clothes on a washing line in someone's backyard she stopped to peer through a gap in the fence, checking no one was in the garden and there was no guard dog to greet her. Her luck held and she hauled herself up and over the fence, dashing to the back of the house before she could be spotted.

  After several minutes of absolutely nothing happening, she braved moving up the back stairs and onto the veranda that ran the length of a cottage. Peeking carefully through the windows she watched for signs of movement. It looked like no one was home. She figured if this was a weekday then the owners were most likely at work. She looked around the garden again. No sign of toys or children's play equipment, which backed up her theory that whoever lived here was out for the day.

  Perfect.

  Several potted plants sat on the veranda and she lifted all of them, searching for a spare key. She reached above the door and searched along the sill, but still no luck. Come on, she fumed, everyone has a spare key hidden somewhere. Back down the stairs to the flower bed off to the side. There! Rocks. Sure enough, one of them was fake and beneath it? A hidden compartment, containing a spare key. Eureka.

  Letting herself in, she flipped the lock behind her. She felt a twinge of regret at breaking into a stranger's home, but it was survival; she wasn't there to pilfer their TV and stereo to sell on the black market. Although looking at the modern furnishings and expensive equipment, it would fetch a pretty penny.

  A wave of dizziness washed over her and she sunk to the floor, putting her head between her knees and drawing deep breaths. It was hot in the house, and she was even hotter; her unprotected skin had started to burn. Her wounds hurt and she desperately wanted to lie down and rest. The tiles beneath her knees were cool and she was tempted to stretch out on them. Gritting her teeth she forced herself back to her feet; staggering to the sink she turned on the tap and stuck her mouth under the flowing water, drinking thirstily. Better.

  She found the master bedroom and checked out the walk-in robe. Male and female clothing hung neatly. Perfect. She needed clothes; it had been pure luck that no one had spotted her limping naked along the alley. Stepping into the ensuite she froze when she caught sight of herself in the mirror above the vanity.

  She was covered in dirt, bruises, and dried blood. Her hair was a tangled mess. Leaning toward the mirror she moved her hair away from her neck to examine the damage Marius had wreaked on her. It was bad. Her skin was a bloody and torn mess from beneath her ear all the way to her collarbone. Twisting as best she could she took a look at her stinging back. A dozen whip marks marred her skin, crisscrossing her back from shoulder to hip. They weren't deep, just deep enough to bleed and hurt like crazy.

  Turning on the shower she got the water to the perfect temperature before holding her breath and stepping beneath the spray. This was going to sting. She was right. As the water hit her open wounds her breath hissed out between clenched teeth; she forced herself to stay under the spray until it became bearable.

  Quickly she cleaned herself, washed her hair and then stepped out, wrapping a towel around herself. Blood was oozing from her neck and from a couple of the lashes on her back. Nothing she could do about
her back; she couldn't reach it, but she rummaged in the vanity for a first aid kit and placed a large dressing over the oozing hole in her neck as best she could.

  Now that the dirt, grime, and blood were washed away she could see the bruises all over her. Her tan had faded and the continual blood loss had leeched any remaining color from her, leaving her with an unhealthy pallor.

  Back in the bedroom, she searched a dresser, pulling out a pair of women's black yoga pants and matching t-shirt. She found a pair of flip flops that were only a size too big and shoved her feet into them, then grabbed what appeared to be a gym bag from the wardrobe, dumping the contents onto the floor.

  Some loose change fell out and she snatched it up, then quickly rifled through the clothes hanging in the closet, searching pockets for forgotten notes hastily shoved into pockets on a night out. Bingo. A twenty in a suit pocket and another twenty in one of the evening bags hanging from a hook.

  Back in the kitchen, she grabbed what food she could: a couple of apples, some energy bars and a couple of bottles of water from the fridge. She shoved them into the duffel bag and swung it over her shoulder before letting herself out the front door.

  She'd been at the house for almost an hour and the sun was starting to dip in the sky. She needed to get further away. Walking as fast as she could in her weakened condition she followed the street, praying she'd find a bus stop or some sort of public transport soon. Luck was with her, ten minutes later she saw a sign to a train station. Even better.

  She boarded the first train that arrived, paid for her ticket and took a seat with a shaky breath. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees to keep her tender back from sticking to the back of the seat. Thankfully her borrowed t-shirt was black and would hide any blood that seeped through.

  She allowed herself to relax a little, safe in the knowledge that she was moving further away from the enemy and it was going to be harder for them to track her now she was on a train. She ate an apple and sipped on her water throughout the journey, then dozed, the sway of the carriage and click-clack of the tracks soothing.