The End (Deadly Captive Book 3)

by Bianca Sommerland

  And I could end this mockery of a life.

  The whip hit the floor with a thunk.

  Rosali stepped onto the stage, bending down in front of Elah, her red lips in a tight little smile. “You were a bad dog. I had the glove specially made for you and you tried to throw it away. With your hand…which was silly. Did you think it would grow back?”

  Snickers rose from the crowd.

  She straightened, giggling as though enjoying the attention. “What good is a hunter with one hand? Can you imagine him coming for you, waving around that stump?”

  Only a few laughed this time, the sound dying away quickly. Not as stupid as they seemed. None of them would be willing to face Elah unbound, even with one less hand. And Rosali was losing her audience with that ridiculous statement. If he wasn’t a threat, why keep him restrained at all?

  “You’re all weak, you know that?” Rosali bared her teeth, her eyes flashing with rage. “I should free him. Give him to you so you’ll see there’s nothing left of him to fear. But you’ve come to see him used. To see him humiliated.” She raked her hand into Elah’s hair, wrenching his head back as far as it would go. “If I was a proper hostess, I’d give you what you want, but he’s only good for one thing now.”

  A blade flashed. Daederich rushed forward. The guards grabbed him. He growled, cracking his fist into the face of one. Slamming into the other.

  His body hit the ground. The guards pinned him there.

  I shot to my feet. Cyrus barred his arm across my chest.

  The blade cut Elah’s throat.

  “No!” I twisted in Cyrus’s grip. Snarling at him. “Let me go!”

  “Rosali, stop this!” Cyrus shoved me behind him and took a step toward the stage. He went still. Tipped his head back. “What have you done?”

  Wiping one bloody hand across her face, Rosali straightened. Held up Elah’s head.

  She tossed it into the crowd. “Are you afraid of him now?”

  I dropped to my knees.

  No.

  He couldn’t be gone.

  No.

  This couldn’t be real. I had to wake up. Demand Cyrus bring me back to the cell. Elah was still there. He had to be.

  “Get up, Lydia.” Cyrus grabbed my arm. “Move!”

  I stared at him. “I could have stopped her.”

  “She would have killed you. Now fucking move.” He dragged me to my feet. Toward the door. “If I die, Alrik will too. We have to get out of here.”

  His words made no sense.

  Then I heard the screams. Gunshots. The crowd panicked, rushing for the exits. None seemed to know where the threat was coming from.

  As Cyrus shoved me into the hall I spotted a familiar face.

  Then another.

  Hunters.

  They’d found us.

  Too late. Much too fucking late.

  I stopped fighting Cyrus. Latched on to his wrist when he started for the front door. “They’ll be waiting out there. I need a weapon.”

  Cyrus laughed. “So you can kill me yourself?”

  “No.” I pulled him toward the back of the house. Now I knew this had to be some kind of fucked up nightmare. One I’d never escape. “So I can save your life.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The kitchen was dark, nothing but the moonlight filtered through the thin curtains to light the way, but neither of us needed it. I locked the door, then went to the block of knives, pulling out the largest one. I stared at my reflection in the blade. My eyes were wild. I looked like I’d lost my mind.

  I was planning to fight hunters with a butcher knife.

  To protect Cyrus.

  Yeah, safe to say I’d gone completely insane.

  Cyrus leaned against the fridge, arms folded over his chest. “What makes you think I need you to protect me?”

  “Because this isn’t the first time you’re running from hunters. I could stand back and let you handle them yourself if you’d like?” I inclined my head as he silently stared at me. “I didn’t think so. They know me. They might hesitate to attack.”

  His lips curved. “You’ll use the trust you’ve earned against them.”

  “I will do whatever it takes to keep that little boy safe.” I tightened my grip on the knife. Footsteps sounded outside the door. “If that wasn’t obvious by now.”

  The door opened. I kept close to it as a man slipped into the room. Not a hunter, but I’d known that the minute I’d heard him coming. I wouldn’t get that much notice.

  He had one of the girls who’d been sold in his arms. She whimpered and struggled against him.

  I pulled her free. Covered his mouth with my hand.

  And punched the knife into his chest.

  His eyes widened. He clawed at my arm as I twisted the knife, wrenching it under his ribs. They splintered. I withdrew the knife. Stabbed it into the wall by his head.

  Then reached into his chest to rip out his heart.

  It hit the floor with a meaty splat. I let him fall and looked at the girl as I licked his blood off my fingers.

  She swayed, one hand on her throat.

  “Get out of here. Tell anyone you find that you’ve seen me.”

  A quick nod and she bolted out the back door.

  Cyrus frowned at me. “Why the fuck would you want them to know where you are?”

  More shots rang out. Running, down the hall, away from the kitchen. I lifted my shoulders, cleaning the rest of the blood on the dead man’s expensive jacket. “Either they’ll come to fight alongside me or they won’t bother with this room, assuming I’ve got it covered. You got a better plan?”

  His jaw hardened.

  “Didn’t think so.” I crossed the room, glancing out the back door. The girl had made it halfway across the yard. Shadows shifted and two hunters approached her. She screamed, holding her hands over her head. Dropped to her knees.

  One hunter gave her a hard shake. She nodded and pointed back the way she’d come.

  I held my breath. Please don’t make me kill you.

  There were two of them. My chances weren’t good unless I caught them off guard. If they split up, I was completely fucked. Hunters who worked together often shared a bond. They’d feel the death of the other. A calm hunter was nearly impossible to defeat. One bent on revenge?

  The second hunter looked over. Caught my eye.

  Gave a small salute with his gun.

  I nodded. Backed away from the door as they helped the girl to her feet and faded into the dark woods.

  “They’re distracted by the girl.” Cyrus moved to my side, his voice low. “If we leave now—”

  “The six hunters you didn’t see will be on us before we take one step past the door. They’ll kill you without asking questions. Then wonder why I let you live.” I ground my teeth, listening to the chaos in the hall. “We need to find another way out.”

  The screams grew louder. Smoke seeped under the door.

  The hunters were burning the mansion.

  “Thanks for the heads up, assholes.” Rubbing a hand over my face, I looked out over the yard again. Glass shattered as flames burst from the ballroom windows. Heat spilled in waves across the doorway. Another explosion from the other side of the house.

  This place was a deathtrap, but the lawn might as well be a shooting range. I slammed my fist against my thigh. A ‘behind door number three’ would be nice. A mansion like this had to have a wine cellar. Those were usually attached to kitchens, weren’t they?

  The kitchen had several huge sinks, a massive fridge and stove, and a dozen cupboards with glass doors. A large farmhouse style table took up the center of the room. There were only two doors that I could see. The one into the hall and the one that led out.

  Cyrus stepped up to the wood-paneled wall beside the fridge and pushed. The wall clicked. He pulled it open. “I could use a drink as well, but not sure that will save us from roasting. Have we given up already?”

  “No. Just fucking get in there.” I slid the
knife under my belt and followed him, tempted to push him down the stairs when he smirked at me. Was this part of his fucking game? I had to save him, but he wouldn’t help at all? This man was going to drive me out of my mind.

  “I do try.” He said in a dry tone as he flicked on the lights at the bottom of the stairs. He turned the corner and let out an appreciative sound. “Chateau Lafite Rothschild—she remembered how much I love it. How sweet of her.”

  “Are you fucking serious right now?” I rubbed my arms, the chill of the room surrounding me as I searched for anywhere the fire might get in. The smoke wouldn’t be a problem, and the walls and ceiling were covered with smooth stone, which should create a barrier.

  With any luck, the mansion would collapse and the hunters would assume Cyrus had burned up inside. They wouldn’t check the remains. They never did. I always wondered if they hoped some of their prey would escape, giving them the excuse for another hunt. They never seemed too concerned about the lives they saved.

  Their success was measured by the body count of the monsters. Cyrus might be one of the worst, but to them, he was just another number.

  “You haven’t seen a corkscrew, have you?”

  Turning slowly, I blinked at Cyrus, my lips moving soundlessly before I finally got the words out. “Seen a…” I strode up to him and knocked the bottle out of his hand. It smashed against the stone wall. “You arrogant son-of-a-bitch! Is this all a game to you? You don’t care if you live or die? Why bother threatening Alrik then? Why force me to stay with you?”

  Glancing over at the broken bottle, Cyrus sighed. “I don’t value life, I value power. When you have power, you don’t need anything else. I don’t have to care, because you do.” He lifted his head, his gaze slicing through me like an icy sliver of glass. “Having power over you entertains me, keeps me alive, satisfies my every need. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

  “You have no fucking clue what that word means.” I fought the urge to back up as Cyrus continued to stare at me. “Love isn’t selfish. It’s not something you take, it’s something you give. And not something either of us will ever have.”

  His brow rose. “Don’t you love the boy?”

  I ground my teeth. “More than anything. But I don’t expect his love in return. He hardly knows me. And I almost killed him.”

  He inclined his head. “Fair enough. But Elah loved you. He loved you enough to force you to be strong, to try to protect you until the moment he died.”

  Inhaling roughly, I swallowed against the fist that closed around my throat. Around my heart. I hadn’t had a moment to mourn the hunter and I didn’t have time now. But Cyrus’s words had me seeing his face again.

  Not as he’d been bound and bloody. Not trapped in that cell with me, wasting away.

  I remembered him laughing when Daederich knocked me down during sword training, one of the rare times he’d stuck around after a hunt. He’d hauled me to my feet and positioned himself against my back.

  Then he’d whispered in my ear.

  “You’re anticipating the blow and that’s slowing you down. Absorb it the way you would a punch. Don’t tense up. Prepare to keep moving, as if the impact is nothing but a cue to change directions.” He nodded for Daederich to attack as he had before. Guided me to block, then stopped me before I could avoid the practice sword connecting with my side. He drew my arms up, exposing my body when I would bend to cover where I’d been hit and laid the sword along Daederich’s throat. “If you were mortal, the blade slicing you open could have killed you, but you’re not. See how he followed through? He left himself open, giving you the opportunity to deal the killing blow.”

  “If he was using a real blade the pain would slow me down.”

  “Don’t let it. If his blade was real he’d have sliced you in half while you were reacting to the pain. Ignore it and you still have a chance to live.”

  Daederich shook his head, glancing down at the wood blade he still held against my stomach. “She should have protected herself—not let me get this close.”

  “True, but no matter how skilled you are, there’s always someone better. Someone who can break through your defenses.” Elah pressed his lips to my hair, a rare tender gesture. And for the first time, Daederich didn’t growl at him or act all possessive. His focus was on Elah’s words. “Survival depends on your next move. Every one should be made as though it might be your last. Pain isn’t a sign of defeat. It’s telling you that you’re still alive. That you still have the strength to fight.”

  I’d said something like that to Cyrus once. While he was torturing me.

  Pain is a sign that you’re still alive.

  Elah’s death hurt. Fuck, it hurt. And it always would.

  Because I was alive to feel that pain.

  That pain wasn’t a weapon Cyrus could use against me. He was trying, I knew he was. Not to kill me, but to keep me down. To maintain his power over me.

  Which he wouldn’t need to do if he’d ever really had it at all. But I was still fighting. Surviving. Still had one more move.

  “Elah would have ended me if I’d asked him to. He didn’t because my life has one purpose. And now your life is no different.” I laughed and shook my head. “We’re all here for that little boy.”

  Cyrus’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

  “Without him, you have nothing, Cyrus.” I rolled my shoulders, glancing over to the corner as smoke began to spill into the room. There was no way to block it, but hopefully not seeing flames meant the fire above couldn’t reach us. “Maybe the power really belongs to him.”

  “If he had any power, he wouldn’t need you to give your life for him.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t.”

  “Then kill me, Lydia. End my life and free yourself.” Cyrus spread his arms wide and took a step toward me. “I won’t even try to stop you.”

  I palmed the blade, so fucking tempted to take him up on his offer. I’d already lost so much, but maybe I was fooling myself. This ‘sacrifice’ might be my way of telling myself I still mattered. That my life had a purpose.

  Even at my lowest point, I’d convinced myself to keep going because Alrik needed me to. But he had Vince to protect him. Both his guardians would fight for him until he was old enough to fight for himself. Could I really keep living this pathetic shadow of a life, keep letting Cyrus amuse himself by calling me his pet, on the chance that it might make a damn difference?

  “Do it, Lydia.” Cyrus took another step. “If your life has no purpose, maybe all you have left is my death. You’ve always wanted to be the one to kill me.”

  “Don’t tempt me, Cyrus.”

  “Why not? It’s what I’m good at.” His lips curved as I brought the knife to his throat. “Think of all those I’ve tortured. All the lives I’ve taken. You could avenge them right now.”

  I could. I should.

  But I couldn’t do it.

  Why the fuck can’t I do it?

  My mind was so fucked up, I couldn’t stand to look at Cyrus anymore. He’d even reminded me why I’d been obsessed with making him pay for all the horrendous things he’d done. But all I could see was him caring for me after Rosali used my worst nightmares against me. How he’d tried, in his own twisted way, to give me an escape from the hell of my new life.

  She’d become the real monster. And I wasn’t quite sure what he was.

  The door opened and I pressed my eyes shut as black smoke spilled into the room. The hunters had come. They could kill him and I’d never have to admit he’d made me so weak I wasn’t even sure if I wanted them to. All I knew was that I couldn’t.

  I lowered the blade.

  “Lydia!”

  Cyrus’s shout brought my eyes open just as my head was wrenched back. Nails raked into my scalp. I gasped as a hand closed around my throat.

  “You never seem to die. No matter what happens, you’re always there, every time I turn around.” Rosali’s lips brushed my cheek. Sh
e held me tight against her, the sweetness of her perfume even more suffocating than the cruddy smoke filling the room. “Maybe you’re waiting for me?”

  “Release her, Rosali.” Cyrus cut across the room too fast for my eyes to follow, letting out a low growl. “She is mine.”

  A smash and Cyrus hit the wine rack. He covered his head as the bottles above tumbled down on him. Wine spilled over his face, mixed with blood.

  Rosali giggled. “Look at the mess you’ve made!”

  “Enough!” Cyrus pushed to his feet, crushing glass under his palms. “I’m not playing with you.”

  “That’s a shame, because we’ve always had so much fun.” Rosali’s grip tightened on my throat as I struggled to free myself. “That ended when you found her the first time, but when you called me I thought…” She rested her head on my shoulder, releasing my hair. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t get to replace me. Not again. Everything you have, everything you are, belong to me.”

  Cyrus shook his head and laughed. “If not for me you would have wasted away within a decade. You were so sweet and innocent, so helpless. You owe me for making you strong enough to survive.”

  “It’s cute that you think that. That you believe I didn’t know exactly what a monster like you would want from a delicate little thing like me.” Rosali turned me with her as Cyrus began to circle us. “You were a little boy who liked pulling the wings off butterflies, who grew into a man with much more twisted desires. There was always something dark inside you. Something I desired.”

  The smoke thickened. Ash filled the air along with the heavy scent of wood and fabric and flesh burning. The panel door in the kitchen had been left open, weakening our last line of defense.

  But neither Rosali or Cyrus seemed to care. They apparently had a lot of catching up to do.

  “You never had me.” Cyrus’s lips slid into a mocking smile. “All you could do was watch as I became everything you wanted to be.”

  “Because you have power? Because people fear you?” Rosali tilted her head to one side, her nails digging into my throat. “I have all of that. And I have men and women willing to give their lives just to see me smile. No one has ever loved you, Cyrus. No one but me. You truly are the saddest story of a broken man, living for eternity without the one thing we all crave.” Her eyes sparkled with cold joy. “The killer has daddy issues. It’s so gloriously cliché.”