The Blackwater Legacy (The Bloodlines Legacy Series Book 2)

by Apryl Baker

Damn, but I miss my friends.

  Once the leg decides to behave, I sit up and bend my head from side to side, listening to the bones pop. I crack my knuckles and look around. My eyes adjusted to the darkness a bit ago, but it’s still hard to make anything out without the lantern Antonio brought with him. I wish I had been able to turn my head and get a general layout of the room.

  Pushing myself up off the floor, I hold my hands out in front of me until I hit the wall. I carefully move sideways so I can get an idea of where I am. After tracing the walls through three corners, I know for a fact there isn’t any furniture in the place, including a place to pee, and I have to pee in a bad, bad way.

  My fingers finally reach the door, only to realize it’s locked. I didn’t hear Antonio lock it. I can’t see, I can’t get out, and I can’t pee.

  Dammit!

  It is times like these that I want to just sit down and cry. No one’s here to see me break down, but if I give in to my urge to do that, it means there’s no hope. I refuse to give up. Someone is going to come through that door, and when they do, I am going to be prepared and take them by surprise. If I can get through that door, I can escape.

  But how are you going to get off the island, Saidie? Huh? Didn’t think of that, did you? mocks my inner sass.

  That’s a bridge I’ll cross when I come to it. First things first. I have to get out to even worry about a boat. Not that I can drive a boat, but I’ll damn well try.

  Moving away from the door, I slide down the wall until my butt hits the floor and do my best to ignore my very desperate need to pee. How long before Madame decides to question me again? What else could she do? Antonio’s warning plays over and over as I sit in the dark and wait.

  Minutes turn to hours, and still I sit, my fear beginning to wear on me. The noises started a few hours ago, noises I have no name for. Unearthly sounds that ripple through the walls. They’re unnerving and only add to the creepiness of the place. Madame’s plan, I’m sure. If she thinks I’m going to give in to her because of some excessively scary sounds, then she’s sadly mistaken.

  When the door opens again, I’m so distracted by the wailing, I don’t notice. It’s not until the bright light of a flashlight is shining directly in my eyes that I see the tips of Madame’s shoes.

  “Good evening, ma chere. I trust a few days by yourself has loosened your tongue.”

  A few days? I must have either really lost track of time, or I was unconscious for a long while.

  “No.” My cracked lips protest the movement it took to get that one simple word out.

  “Why must you do this to yourself, ma chere? You are forcing me to do things that will only cause you pain.”

  My refusal to answer her must tick her off, because when she speaks again, her voice has lost any hint of its earlier kindness. “Have you heard the whispers yet? The wailing?”

  Well, yeah. I nod, no clue where she’s going with this.

  “It is the curse of the damned you are suffering, child.”

  “Wha…wh…”

  “It is all the lost spirits roaming in these swamps. They know what you are. They crave what you have. They’ll keep battering away at you, becoming more and more insistent, until they are all you hear, all you can see, all you can feel. They will make you insane.”

  That is not at all good.

  “All you must do is tell me where they are, and you will never suffer the madness that comes with this curse. Just tell me, child. Where are they?”

  I shake my head, refusing to answer her. Her words chilled me. Those noises, they won’t go away until they drive me mad? Bree might be able to help me. I just have to get away.

  “No?” I can’t see her eyes, but I can imagine how hard they must be right now, judging by the frigid tone of her voice. “Perhaps a few days with Kristoff will loosen your tongue.”

  Kristoff?

  I go cold at the sound of his name. She’d give me to Kristoff? I remember the look in his eyes the night I met him, the promise of pain.

  “Ah, I see a reaction there. You don’t like Kristoff, do you, child?”

  No, not one little bit. I’ll take him over yesterday’s adventure, though. Between never ending pain and being rotted on, I think I can handle Kristoff’s form of crazy. I would rather Madame think I am more afraid of Kristoff than her rotting zombies or whatever those things were. I can’t control the body shakes the thought of them inspires, and Madame laughs.

  “So, Kristoff it is, then. Perhaps after a few days in his company you will see it is easier to declare defeat, ma chere. He and his brothers are still sleeping, but as soon as he wakes, I will make sure he comes right down to collect you.”

  With that promise, she leaves, and this time I do hear the distinct sound of the lock clicking. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? How am I going to escape before he wakes up with no way to pick the lock? Fooling myself into thinking I can overpower a vampire when I’m so weak I can barely stand is stupid. It might have been a great way to boost my morale earlier, but now it’s time to face facts. I am soon to be at the mercy of a depraved monster.

  The sound of the lock clicking a few minutes later sets my skin to crawling. I stand and take the best fighting stance I can beside the door. If I can get a surprise jump, then maybe, just maybe, I can knock him down and run.

  It swings open in slow motion and I steel myself, preparing to tackle Kristoff. I’m only going to have one chance at this. He doesn’t even bring a light with him. Night vision or something. All the books I’ve read say vampires have super night vision.

  I can make out his outline from what little light filters into the room from the hallway. He’s standing with his back to me. Just take a few more steps into the room, come on…

  He tilts his head and does just that. I don’t wait. I jump, knocking him backward, but he doesn’t go down. He only grunts and sways with the force of my body hitting his. He reaches out and grabs me by the waist, pulling me to him, and clamps a hand over my mouth.

  “Be quiet.” The soft hiss of words startles me enough to stop struggling.

  Aleric.

  Not who I expected.

  “Doan make a sound, Draga.” He moves his hand and turns me around, his eyes roaming over my face. They burn as bright as a flame in all the darkness surrounding us. “Dere are eyes and ears ever’where down here.”

  Down here? Does he mean the basement? It’s the one place I’d been forbidden to go alone. Aleric looks more than nervous, but he’s here. Why is here?

  He pulls out a bottle of water from his jacket pocket and hands it to me. I open it and greedily tip it to my parched lips. The water is hot, but I don’t care. Moisture coats my tongue and throat, relieving the ache that had only grown since I woke up. I will never take water for granted again.

  “Easy, Draga.” He takes the water from me then puts a finger to my lips. “You be sick if you doan slow down.”

  It makes sense, but I still want that water bottle back. “Come, Draga, we leave now.”

  Leave? Where are we going? Is he taking me to Kristoff?

  “Can you walk, chere?”

  I nod, still unsure what’s going on. He puts a finger to his lips and motions for me to follow him. When I don’t budge, he gives me one of his patented stares.

  “Come. We doan have much time.”

  “No,” I croak. “No Kristoff.”

  His eyes narrow before he grabs my hand. “No Kristoff.” He pulls me out of the room, closes and locks the door. “I be gettin’ you out of here, ma fille.”

  He’s helping me escape? I don’t understand. He shakes his head when I attempt to use my voice. He waves at all the doors lining the hallway. Each door is made from thick wood. Some have heavy locks on them, but that’s not what makes them alarming. The doors…breathe? I watch, horrified, as the wood swells and expands, mimicking the actions of someone taking a breath. Not only that, but there are things behind each door. Things that reach out and call to my necromancy, things th
at beg for me to stroke them with my magic.

  Aleric snaps his fingers in front of my face and I blink, coming out the thrall of whatever is behind the doors. Not good, Saidie girl, not good.

  “Come, we must go.” The words are whispered against my ear, and the shudder that goes through me has nothing to do with the creatures behind these doors and everything to do with my own dark angel currently dragging me along behind him.

  But where are we going?

  Chapter Twelve

  The main house is quiet. Aleric goes first, and when he deems it safe, he motions for me to follow him. We are near the back of the house. I can see the kitchen from here. What startles me is that it’s still daylight outside. How are we going to escape when he can’t go out into the sun? It might turn him to ashes.

  When we reach the back door, he pulls on heavy, thick gloves and snags a straw hat from the mud room. He’s covered from head to toe, boots, jeans, and black leather jacket. A black ski mask then goes over his face, and he pulls on dark black sunglasses. He shoves the hat on my head and nods.

  The screen door squeaks ominously and we both freeze, looking over our shoulders, listening for a shout of alarm. A full minute goes by before Aleric moves out onto the porch, waiting for me to follow before he closes the door. The squeaky thing sounds as loud as a gunshot on a still night. Not good.

  Aleric shakes his head, telling me without words to stay silent. He squares his shoulders and walks out into the dying light of the afternoon. I halfway expect him to start smoking, but apparently his ludicrous getup is working. Nothing happens. He crooks a finger at me and I follow, looking back toward the house.

  It seriously can’t be this easy, can it?

  We walk silently for what feels like hours, but is probably only a few minutes. Bypassing the main garden, Aleric leads me down a path I haven’t seen before. It’s off the east end of the property and leads directly into the bayou. Into the swamps where those things are.

  I stumble, falling, unable to force myself to willingly go near them. Aleric is there the moment I fall.

  “Are you hurt, juene fille?” His voice is muffled, but there is no denying the actual concern in it. Who is this and where did he hide Aleric’s body?

  “I…can’t…” A coughing fit seizes me. He rubs my back until it stops.

  “Easy. Doan try to talk. Just show me where you be hurt.”

  I point at the swamp and shake my head, every muscle in my body screaming in protest at the thoughts of those things.

  He cocks his head and looks toward the distance. “We must go, Draga. Dey all wake soon, and den dey come for us.”

  He doesn’t know what he’s asking me to do. Those things. Tremors run rampant up and down my arms, my hands shaking so badly Aleric takes them in his own. Realization finally dawns when he takes in my reaction.

  “Dey are sleepin’, hon.” He pulls me up, holding me close. “Dey woan touch you again, Draga. Dis I promise. We ha’ ta hurry, dou. Please, Draga.”

  I drink in his smell of sandalwood and try to calm down. He’s right. It won’t be long before they discover we’re missing. Then they’ll come hunting, and God knows what kinds of creatures she can let loose upon us out of that basement. I hug him tight, grateful for his strength. I don’t know if I could have talked myself into going into the bayou again, despite my earlier thoughts. I’m not as brave as I thought I was.

  The evening hours are upon us, and with it being winter, darkness will fall soon. We have to get as far away from Madame as we can. I let Aleric lead me into the heart of the bayou. I thought at first we’d be taking one of the boats, but when we go past the docks, that hope is dashed. Exhaustion is eating away at me. I’m hungry, thirsty, and the need to pee is unbearable, but I trudge along behind him, doing my best to keep up amid the tangle of roots and uneven ground.

  We walk for hours. That much I know because dusk has fallen. He stops, his entire body stiffening. He’s quivering, his fists clenched. What’s wrong?

  “Aleric?” I reach out and touch his arm.

  And I feel her.

  Madame.

  She’s got her magic wrapped tightly around him, and God knows what she’s doing.

  “Doan touch me,” he spits out and yanks both the ski mask and the sunglasses off his face. His eyes are glowing, the red so bright, they could be pools of liquid fire. “She woans me to hurt you, chere. Doan touch me. Run. Run now.”

  I don’t hesitate, I take off running, zigzagging just like my mama taught me. Weaving between the trees, no destination in mind, my only goal to escape. I knew it couldn’t be this easy.

  The darkness grows, and the deeper into the swamp I run, the less light I have to see by until there is nothing but me, the sound of my harsh breathing, and the complete and utter blackness. Sounds I’ve never heard before make me jump at every little turn. Shadows leer at me, and when I slow, my lungs protesting so loudly I have to obey, I can’t stop the fear from swimming up, trying to drown me. A tree holds me up while I catch my breath and try to get a handle on this fear.

  Everywhere I look, the murky waters of the swamp mock me. I know they’re down there, just waiting for Madame to call them up, to come after me. So focused on the water and what lies beneath, I miss the first faint sounds, but when a cry shatters the quiet, my head whips up, searching for the source of the noise. More cries join in with the first, and I search the night, finally seeing what can’t be real, but is.

  Small, bright lights dance across the air, like dragonflies. They head straight for me, like a swarm of bees. Their cries blend together, becoming one that assaults my ears. I put my hands over them, trying to block out the noise, but then I’m too busy trying to bat them away to protect my ears. They surround me, battering away at me, their cries sending sharp, stabbing pains through my head.

  Dear God, what are these things?

  The cries of the damned. Madame said she’d cursed me with the cries of the damned. Is that what these things are? The souls of the damned that crave my power to…to what, exactly?

  I don’t know, but the pain intensifies and I almost miss the scratching noises coming from behind me. The things are slowly shuffling toward me, their eyes as hollow as the raspy moans their mouths scream out. She sent the dead to find me.

  The ground around me is littered with fallen tree branches, and I pick up the strongest one I can find. Not that it will do much good, but having a weapon, any weapon, is better than none. I am going to have to channel my inner Sam and Dean Winchester. Doing my best to ignore the swarm of souls battering away at me, I strike the first one as soon as it’s within range. It goes down, but as The Walking Dead has taught me, it doesn’t stay down. It just drags itself up and starts walking again. The second blow I aim at the thing’s legs. When it goes down this time, it stays down, but not still. It drags itself toward me.

  Screw this. I run, keeping my makeshift bat clutched tight. I can hear them now, feel them as they emerge from their graves. Madame is pulling them from the earth and sending them to find me. They won’t stop until they do, fueled by her magic, her will to do me harm.

  An arm snakes out, catching me, and I swing, hitting whatever grabbed me, but it doesn’t budge. Red, glowing pits of hate stare down at me. Aleric.

  Only it’s not Aleric. It’s Madame. She’s staring at me through his eyes. She has that much control over him? He’s going to hurt me. I know it as surely as I know the things crawling toward me will devour me.

  “Aleric, please.” I search his face, looking for any signs of the man I know.

  He laughs, the sound sending goosebumps all over my skin. “You have no idea, little girl, who you are dealing with.”

  Definitely not Aleric. All traces of his accent are gone. That is Madame speaking.

  “I gave you every chance, child. Now we’ll do it the hard way.”

  With that, Aleric’s head whips down and his teeth sink into my neck. I gasp at the sudden and sharp pain. The attack is brutal, exactly a
s it was meant to be. His arms wrap around me and I fight, trying to dislodge him, screaming for all I’m worth. It hurts…God, how it hurts. There is no sparkly vampire here. Tears blur my vision as I beat at him, my fists useless against his strength.

  “Stop, please stop.” My arms fall uselessly to my side, what little strength I have left draining with each drop of my blood he’s consuming. “Please, Aleric. Stop.”

  And he does.

  He goes still as a statue. Until he looks at me, horror spreading across his face. “Non. Wha’ have I done?” He shakes his head. “She be tryin’ to take back control.”

  Not sure what I can do about that. I don’t have the strength to run anymore. I sag in his arms.

  “Help me, Draga,” he whispers against my ear, his lips grazing the shell. “Help me figh’ her.”

  “How?” My head falls forward onto his chest. I am so tired.

  His breathing speeds up and anxiety washes over him. “You must. No other way.”

  “Must what?”

  “Take control of me, chere.”

  “What?” I ask, horrified. He did not just ask me that. Even if I knew how to do it, I’m not sure I would. It’s not right.

  “Oui, ma chere. Quickly. She be beatin’ away at me.”

  “How?”

  “De same as you would any dead thing.” He groans, fighting whatever she’s doing. “Hurry, Saidie. Please. I doan want to hurt you.”

  It’s the first time he’s ever used my name. His way of trying to impress upon me how dangerous a situation we are in. The dead are everywhere, and the only thing keeping us safe from them is Madame’s knowledge she will regain control of Aleric and he’ll deliver me to her. Who knows how far behind us his “brothers” are.

  I have to try, despite how much it appalls me. I move away from him, barely able to stand. Looking into his eyes, now as clear a green as the Irish hills, I push my magic toward him, tasting, touching. Tendrils snake out, wrapping him in their embrace. He moans and we both fall to our knees, eyes locked as the battle for control of Aleric Rinaldi begins.