I reached for him and he took my hand, his touch dragging me away from the infested grave, from the burned remains of a body that wasn’t mine. Away from Cyrus.
Fingers laced with his, I tightened my grip until it hurt, afraid I’d fall back in if I let go. “Cyrus… I wanted him dead, but then something changed. I couldn’t kill him.”
“Look at him now.”
Glancing back at the bed, I saw Cyrus lying there, his wounds slowly healing now that Rosali had released him. His black hair was tangled, his skin smeared with dirt and blood, his cheeks gaunt as though he’d been starved for weeks. All the elegance, all the danger, had been reduced to the shell of a man, brought low by his own obsessions.
His power over me had faded away.
But I could still sense him in my mind, his thoughts as clear as my own. I could never leave him. He’d find me, no matter how far I tried to run. With every touch, I’d feel him. I’d see him every time I closed my eyes.
“Get her out of here.” A familiar voice came from the doorway. I blinked as I saw Jase, the young man I’d chosen that night with Cyrus.
Dressed like a hunter, his expression cold, Jase pulled out a sword and approached the bed.
I stood, blocking him. “No.”
Jase made an irritated sound and grabbed my shoulder. “I don’t have time for this.”
Knocking his hand away, I leaned in close, gritting my teeth. “You’ll fucking make time. You weren’t who I thought you were, but I still tried to protect you from him. And you returned the favor by drugging me.”
He stared at me and his arrogant demeanor faltered. “I did that to spare you.”
“I didn’t need you to spare me. I needed you to show up ten minutes earlier, before Elah was cut down on that stage.” My eyes narrowed at his cold look. He was a damn good actor. I never would have guessed he was a hunter when I’d seen him that night. He hadn’t seemed like an egotistical bastard then. And now, I didn’t have the patience to deal with their damn superiority complex. “Give me the fucking sword.”
His lips parted, and he glanced over at Daederich. Then sighed and handed me the sword.
The weight of the weapon in my hand shut down the part of me that didn’t want Cyrus to die. I stood over him, every moment he’d taken from me playing out like an old film in my mind. Stilted, distorted, all scars inside my skull torn open.
“What do you want from me?”
Cyrus wound the length of my hair around his hand, and, yanking back hard, drew a shocked cry from my throat. “Nothing right now, my dear. Actually, your survival depends on his reaction.”
I swung the sword. Blood sprayed up into my face. Thick. Cold.
“I think you must like pain.”
Metal shackles around my wrists, my head still throbbing from his fist hitting me, I met Cyrus’s eyes. “Pain is a sign that you’re still alive.”
Cyrus selected a long, serrated blade and held it up, lips curving as he looked it over. “Or something that makes you wish you weren’t.”
The sword came down again and again. I screamed, stabbing, slicing, fighting those old battles in a way I couldn’t before. The chains had forced me to endure everything, but they were gone. All of them, even the ones that couldn’t be seen.
“You would have been worth keeping.”
Mary fell to the floor, clutching the dagger Cyrus had stabbed her with. Barely more than a child, thrown in the cage with me and Daederich, killed when she’d served her purpose.
Tears joined the blood on my face. I brought the sword to Cyrus’s throat. I’d hacked at his body, but he wasn’t dead. His blue eyes met mine and I couldn’t look away.
His lips moved, but no sound came. Blood filled his mouth, trickling over his chin.
Daederich came up behind me, standing close, but not touching me. He spoke softly, no emotion in his tone. “Finish it. He’s taken enough from you. Don’t waste another second on him.”
Simple, but almost as though it shouldn’t be. I lifted the sword. Sliced down so hard the blade cut through the mattress. My grip slipped and I fell to my knees. The light in Cyrus’s eyes died, but I didn’t believe this was the end.
“Silly little girl. You must feel very brave, very noble. I thought you were smarter than that.”
“He’s dead, Lydia.” Daederich put his hand on my shoulder, his touch hesitant, as though he thought I might pull away. “It’s done.”
I shook my head. “We have to burn him. I won’t believe it’s over until there’s nothing left of him.” I inhaled roughly, letting out a weak laugh. “Maybe once I scatter his ashes I won’t see him in my head anymore. I won’t hear him. Won’t feel him. Won’t…” I blinked fast, hugging myself. “He’s still inside me. I wish I could forget again.” Swallowing hard, I glanced over my shoulder at Daederich. “You could make me forget.”
He inclined his head. “I probably could, but you deserve to remember. Look at him, Lydia. Think of how many countless lives he’s ruined. Think of Mary, of Elah. Of my son. You swore you’d make him pay for what he’s done. And now you have.”
Looking back at Cyrus’s body, something inside me went still. The thing on the bed was nothing. Severed limbs, a headless corpse. Powerless. I’d dreamed of seeing Cyrus like this. Not by my hand, I never thought I’d be strong enough. I’d always imagined Daederich would kill him. Or Elah.
But it had been me. Alone.
Jase strode across the room, grabbing a bottle of vodka off the dresser. He tossed it to me, a grim smile on his lips. “I’m impressed, I didn’t think you’d do it. But I still want to watch him burn.”
I smirked at him, but didn’t comment. He’d only been at Cyrus’s mercy once and it still messed with him. I’d pity him if he wasn’t being such an insufferable jerk. He had no idea how lucky he was. Still, I didn’t need to rub it in.
Uncapping the bottle, I took a swig, then emptied the rest over the bed. Jase handed me a pack of matches. I lit one and dropped it on the center of Cyrus’s chest, backing as the flames flared up.
We stood silently, watching him burn until nothing could be seen through the blaze but his bones The fire reached the curtains, quickly spreading.
Daederich took my hand. “We can return for the ashes if you want.”
Shaking my head, I drew away from him. I couldn’t let him in. Not yet. I needed to keep my guard up until I knew I wasn’t reacting on raw emotion. “I don’t need them. This was enough. Rosali’s still alive. I almost want to leave her there to suffer, but I’m not taking any chances.”
Jaw hardening, Daederich inclined his head. “Do you want me to join you, or would you rather go alone with Jase.”
“Doesn’t make a difference either way.” I turned my back on him, fighting to remain detached. He was right. I needed to remember. Everything. “So long as it’s done.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The last few nights had been filled with fire and ashes, ending the terror that had gone on for too long. Rosali’s body had been pulled from the wreckage and I’d watched Daederich hack her apart the same way I had Cyrus, as though he needed to see her in pieces before he’d let himself believe she really wasn’t coming back. I stood by silently, giving Jase a sharp look when he seemed to want to rush things.
I wasn’t sure what Rosali had done to Daederich, but he’d earned this closure, at very least.
The scent of smoke lingered, clinging to my hair, to my clothes, no matter how much I washed. But I still went outside of the hunters’ compound when the pyre was set up. These flames would be the hardest to watch burn. When they were lit, it would be time to say goodbye, for the last time.
Elah’s body had been moved before the hunters had torched the mansion. While some hated that he’d lost his life trying to free me, they showed his memory nothing but respect. A dozen had worked for hours the night before constructing a platform and piling wood. Now six hunters carried Elah on a black slab, wide enough for his sword and his favorite rifle to lay b
eside him. They set him on the platform, one at a time placing an object with him to burn. Several books, a ring that looked ancient, an elaborate carving of a wolf, and a colorful pile of poker chips that seemed difficult for the last hunter to part with.
Jase stepped up beside me, speaking softly. “We may seem heartless, but we honor our dead. You were important to him. If you’d like a moment…”
Nodding slowly, I stepped forward, feeling like a fist had closed around my throat. The light from the complex was dim, but I could see Elah clearly. Dressed in all black, the collar of his leather jacket hiding the stitches on his neck. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was sleeping.
I put my hand on his arm. “We were supposed to get out of there together. I’m not sure I can ever forgive you for dying on me.” Tears blurred my vision and I laughed. “But you gave me so much. Nothing I can send with you. Nothing I can touch. But I wouldn’t be alive if you hadn’t kept pushing me. I almost gave up, so many times. You wouldn’t let me. And now, thanks to you, I have my freedom.” I pressed my tongue into my bottom lip as my voice cracked. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much. Miss you showing up to yell at me because I’m being reckless. Miss you teaching me how to be the most lethal bitch I can be.” I blinked, letting the tears spill, not giving a damn what the hunters thought of me for crying when they showed no emotion at all. “I’m going to miss you holding me, and being a sarcastic jerk, and making me laugh.” Rising up on my tiptoes, I pressed a soft kiss on his cold cheek. And I whispered. “I don’t have many memories, but I’ll treasure the ones I have of you.”
Returning to Jase’s side, I dried my tears with the back of my hand, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth as Daederich went to Elah, speaking quietly, lowering his head to Elah’s chest, his fist pressed against the side of the slab. He didn’t look at me once he’d retreated from the pyre and the hunters brought torches to light the fire. His eyes never left Elah as the flames consumed his body. Shoulders back, head held high, he was as hard to read as any of the hunters around us, but I knew him.
He blamed himself for Elah’s death.
I wanted to blame him too. But I didn’t. Daederich had cared about the man more than almost anyone. Returning to captivity had warped what we once had, but I refused to believe Daederich could have fooled both me and Elah.
Elah had defended Daederich in that cell. He must have known something I hadn’t.
Or maybe he’d just had faith long after I’d lost mine. Either way, looking at Daederich I sensed his pain as deeply as a knife driven into my own chest. After the hunters drifted away and the sky began to lighten, I approached him, not sure what to say, but needing to find a way to comfort him. And let him comfort me in return.
“Don’t.” Daederich continued staring at the pyre as the last of the embers died. “I don’t deserve your sympathy. You’re right to hate me. I’ve cost you everything.”
“Because you chose me out of all of Cyrus’s victims?” I folded my arms over my chest and shook my head. “I don’t hate you for that.”
He let out a sharp laugh. “You think I chose you?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. Yes, it fucking matters. I want you to hate me for what I’ve actually done, not because Cyrus twisted the few memories you have.” He rubbed his face with his hand. “You were brought to me in the arena, like all the others. The only difference was you were in chains. The chains told me you were more than another prop. You’d done something to anger Cyrus and he wanted to see you suffer. Which made me even more determined to make sure you survived.”
“You never told me that.”
“Why would I? Why would I force you to relive the worst moment of your life?”
He had a point. But now I was confused. “Then should I hate you for what you did to Elah? He never blamed you.”
Daederich’s lips twitched. “Because I told him why.”
“Tell me.” I reached out and put my hand on his forearm. “Now that it’s over, I need to know. What I saw was you falling back into the role you played so easily, it was like Elah was nothing but an obstacle to your survival.”
“He wasn’t an obstacle to mine, he was the key to yours.” Daederich glanced down at my hand. “I had to make it easy for Cyrus to convince you I’d cooperate to save myself. No matter what, he’d have found a way to fuck with your head, but at least if he believed our bond was weak I wasn’t a threat. And everyone knows a hunter would rather die than be degraded. Elah once made me promise I’d kill him if it ever came to that. But I broke my promise, giving him a damn good reason to turn on me.” He pressed his eyes shut. “I knew he’d recover. Figured we could work together without them knowing and somehow break free. They would make us perform and we’d have one chance…”
“Only they didn’t.”
“No. My mistake was assuming things would be like they were in the arena. Thinking they’d be stupid enough to underestimate a hunter. But Cyrus only came for me once before leaving me to Rosali. And the performances never happened.”
That explained why Elah still trusted Daederich. He hadn’t explained because Cyrus read my thoughts too easily. And Cyrus had been arrogant enough to believe he had complete control over us all. If things had played out differently, if we’d been thrown into the arena, Daederich’s plan might have worked. Even with only seconds to act, I would have followed Elah’s lead. Likely pieced together what Daederich was doing.
A flawed plan, but a plan nonetheless.
Which didn’t explain why he thought I should hate him.
“You’ve had nothing but pain since you met me, Lydia. I was a fool to think I could protect you. And you trusted me, which made you vulnerable.” Daederich backed away from me and my hand fell to my side. “Hating me gave you strength. You realized you didn’t need me. I won’t let you lose that strength now.”
I ran my tongue across my teeth, nodding.
Then I stepped forward and slapped him. “You stupid son-of-a-bitch.”
His eyes went wide.
Latching on to the collar of his shirt, I jerked him down so I could look into his eyes. “You’re right, I don’t need you. I thought I did, I wanted you to save me, but you couldn’t. Elah couldn’t. And some fucked up shit happened to us all. You did what you could. It didn’t work. Get over it.”
Brow furrowed, he blinked at me. “Get over it?”
“Yes. I’m not living my entire—very long—life afraid. I hated you because it was easier than loving you. But I much prefer to love you. And I will again.” I jabbed my finger into the center of his chest. “When you’re done being an idiot.”
“God damn it, Lydia. What don’t you understand? You’re better off without me.”
I rolled my eyes, smiling as I pictured Elah, watching us, shaking his head. He’d be amused, but wouldn’t say much. Unless it was to mock us for being ridiculous.
“Well, if that’s what you think, I’m done wasting my time.” I shrugged and started back toward the compound. “See you around.”
He caught up to me with long strides and grabbed my arm. “Where will you go?”
“Wherever the hell I want. After I get some sleep.” I arched a brow, glancing down at his hand. He let me go and I continued inside. “I’m going to enjoy my freedom, Daederich. I suggest you figure out how to do the same.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daederich ran the whetstone along the blade, the sweet singing scrape of the metal almost hypnotic. The sword was one of Elah’s, true Damascus steel forged in the 18th century, with a solid metal hilt more practical than decorative. He’d been surprised when Jase had brought him the weapon, but he didn’t ask questions. Being unarmed, even here, was worse than being naked in front of a crowd.
Knowing it had belonged to Elah meant more than he could say to the hunter. The weight of the sword in his hand made him feel like Elah was by his side, ready to cut down any who stood in their path. Absurdly sentimental, which none of the hunters w
ould understand, but fuck it. Elah probably would have, though he’d have laughed and clapped Daederich hard on the back before asking him why he was still here.
The hunters said they would bring him to his son in two weeks. Alrik was being kept at one of their holdings in Australia, but that was all they’d tell him. They would charter a plane to fly him there, but none were available at the moment and reuniting him with his son wasn’t considered a priority.
“The boy’s safe. You’re free.” Jase barely spared him a glance as he’d gulped down cold blood from a metal mug in the mess hall. “What more do you want from us?”
If there hadn’t been two dozen hunters around, watching him, Daederich would have laid the fucker out. The funny thing was, Jase reminded him of Elah in a lot of ways. Elah’s dry sarcasm had rubbed off on his pupil, and Daederich could imagine the man had been just as insufferable when he’d been that young.
Daederich could almost like Jase if he didn’t hate the cocky bastard. But between dismissing Daederich’s concern for his son, and refusing to tell him where Lydia had gone, the young hunter was on his last nerve.
Three nights had passed since Daederich had last seen Lydia and he wished he’d given her a reason to stay. She had her own savings and access to several safe houses he’d set up around the country, so she’d be fine, but it hurt to know she’d be alone.
Because he’d pushed her away.
What choice did I have?
He sighed and laid the sword beside him on the bed. Elah’s death had shown Daederich how powerless he truly was. He couldn’t protect the people he loved. Not even his own son. And definitely not Lydia. She’d made it clear she didn’t need his protection, which was good. She deserved a better life than he could give her.
The End (Deadly Captive Book 3) Page 19