Wood, Fire, & Gold

by Jackson, Pam

  Eberstark pushed Andie ahead of him along the snow-covered deer trail. Her hands were bound behind her, so it was difficult to maintain balance when the path narrowed and became slippery. Her clothes were soaked through to her skin, and with the sun moving toward the western horizon, she shivered uncontrollably.

  “Keep moving, hündin. We will be there soon. Don’t die on me ... just yet. You will spend the night with me first before I hand you over to Tivoli. Just think of all the fun we will have.”

  Andie cringed as he let out a sick and boorish laugh. And then, suddenly, she recognized the clearing in the woods ahead.

  They walked through the open space and passed the boulder where she’d propped herself up when she ran away from the cabin—the same spot where Clay had kissed her so hard and lustfully she’d thought they might melt the snow that surrounded them.

  Eberstark was taking her back to the hunting cabin, and this might be her only chance to escape.

  “So, Luca, not only did you leave Clay for dead, but now you’re moving into his cabin? You’re a real piece of shit.” He pushed her hard again, moving her forward through the clearing. “I guess brute force makes up for your lack of intelligence—and your small dick.” She was taunting Eberstark, hoping he would lose his focus. She had to know her boundaries, though. Eberstark was a trained, cold-blooded killer, and it could end badly for her if she didn’t ease up on the insults.

  “Ah, well, we will see about the size of my dick later, hündin. Now, keep moving. We’re almost there. And shut up or I will gag you again.” He pointed to the wool hat on his head. The thought of his awful hat stuck in her mouth again made her weak.

  Andie could see the outline of the hunting cabin against the pinkish glow of the sunset. She recalled the various spots where hunting weapons and Clay’s bag of guns were hidden. She didn’t think Eberstark had been inside the cabin, since it was only earlier today that she and Clay had left after a blissful night of lovemaking. But Eberstark most likely had been spying on them from a distance, and that’s how he had found them at Claudius’s cave.

  Once they reached the cabin, she knew she had only a small window of opportunity to find a weapon and inflict some damage on Eberstark. He was big and powerful, and she was definitely no match for him. But if she could get the upper hand for a minute or two, she could get her hands on one of Clay’s weapons. Unfortunately, she would need to distract Eberstark in order to manage something like that, and the price she might have to pay to make it possible made her cringe.

  They came upon the small clapboard cabin, and Eberstark pushed Andie down into the snow.

  “You stay here, and don’t you dare move, hündin. I will cut you and turn you inside out if you disobey.” Andie had no choice, since running away was futile, with no place to go and no one to run to for help.

  She watched him maneuver through the door to clear the inside of the cabin. He was trained, just like Clay, to eliminate all threats. This worried her so much she could feel tears of fear building up in her eyes. Damn it! How was she, a stubborn bookworm, supposed to outsmart and outmaneuver a trained killer? This was bad, but she needed to pull it together and be resourceful somehow.

  Eberstark emerged from the cabin and pulled Andie off the snow-covered ground. He hoisted her small frame over his broad shoulder and walked through the door.

  “Ahh, what’s the matter, Andie? You are not struggling. Tsk, tsk ... I thought you would have more fight in you.”

  Andie wanted to kick him, and God knew that if she could get out of her restraints, she would claw him, punch him, and gouge out his eyes. But it was foolish to waste her energy on a losing battle. She would have to be decisive and make every move count.

  First, she needed to find a knife to cut through the shoelaces that were binding her hands behind her back—and, of course, she had to do it without Eberstark noticing. This would be a miracle, she thought. She needed to distract him; it was the only way.

  She decided to bait him a little more. “Why should I waste my time or energy, Luca? I’m speaking to a dead man. It’s just a matter of time before Clay finds us, and kills you.” But she also knew it was just a matter of time before her smart-ass mouth would end up costing her another backhand across the face. She prayed that Clay was alive and would show up to rescue her—but she believed the chance of that was slim.

  He carried her into the small front room of the cabin and tossed her hard onto the rickety sofa bed. The aging piece of furniture, with her body atop it, slammed against the closet door, blocking the place where she’d last seen Clay’s duffel bag full of weapons. Shit! Getting into the closet without Eberstark noticing would be nearly impossible. Even if he left the cabin for a moment, he would hear her sliding the sofa away from the door, and surely he’d be on her and the weapons in seconds.

  She visually searched the room. Hunting weapons were everywhere, and she noticed several large compound bows fixed to wall mounts in front of her. But archery wasn’t the easiest or most practical way to inflict a quick and deadly blow against a trained assassin—and besides, she didn’t even know how to insert the arrow. Okay, I need something else. Keep looking.

  Her survey of the cabin was interrupted as she watched Eberstark remove the Atros Fallis from inside his coat. He handled this ancient artifact like a monkey investigating a toaster oven. She thought for sure he was close to smelling the damned thing, so it would be best if she interrupted him before he tore the delicate copper plates to shreds. “Do you even understand what you’re holding, Luca? Do you understand the power that Giovanni will possess with that book?” Perhaps appealing to his intellect might help her situation.

  “I do not care what Giovanni Tivoli does with this book. He can wipe his ass with it. I know I am being paid more money than ever before to bring you and this book back to New York City.”

  So much for intellect—or even a brain.

  Andie watched him walk over and open a worn pine cabinet in the far corner of the room, most likely looking for food. This was her opportunity to try to find a weapon. She scanned the room with lightning fast eyes and noticed the red wooden handle of the small tomahawk she had brandished at Clay earlier. Its blade was fixed into a wall stud only feet away from her position. Now, to get it without Eberstark noticing. She might be able to cut her restraints with the axe head—hopefully, without slicing her hands off in the process.

  “Luca, not that I’m grateful to be sharing this cabin with you—because, hell no, I’m not. But it’s going to get really cold in here tonight. Don’t you think you should make a fire?” She looked at the cast-iron stove between the old sofa where she was sitting and the small kitchen table. She watched him gaze at the stove then back at her.

  “I am not cold, hündin. Besides, I will keep you warm tonight.” He smiled with rotten, crooked teeth and nodded his head with approval at his own smart-ass comment.

  “Seriously, Luca. If you don’t want to hear me bitch all night, I suggest you get a fire going. You do know I can be persistent.”

  He squinted his eyes and frowned at her. “Yes, you are a pain in the ass. That Tivoli tolerates you is ludicrous.”

  “C’mon, there’s a stack of wood outside down by the outhouse.” She pretended to shudder to illustrate that she was cold. Actually, she was sweating from the anxiety of trying to get him to leave the cabin.

  He glared at her for what seemed like an hour but was probably only seconds. She tried not to look away from his cold, dead stare; she knew he was trying to read her next move. He was familiar with her exploits, since he often accompanied her abroad as her bodyguard.

  He scratched at the side of his craggy face and nodded slowly in agreement. “Okay, but do not move. I will know if you get up, and you will pay in blood.” He raised his finger to his own throat and made a slicing motion.

  “I’m not moving, Luca. I’m a pain in the ass, but I’m not crazy enough to cross you.” Oh, God—yes, she was crazy. This is absolutely insane! She had to c
ut through her restraints, hide the weapon on her, and then manage to get close enough to Eberstark to overcome him with the tomahawk—and she had to do it all as quietly as a church mouse. Yep, she was definitely crazy ... and in a short time, she would most likely be dead. But all she could think about was Clay, close to death in that dark place.

  She watched Eberstark walk out the door into the twilight. Her eyes were trained on him as he walked past the small window and around to the back end of the cabin. She waited until he was out of sight. As quietly as she could, she stood up in a hunched position and tiptoed to the wall where the tomahawk was cleaved into the wall stud. Her hands were numb, and her arms ached from being tied behind her back for so long. She prayed she had enough strength in her fingers to pry the weapon from the wood. She turned and walked backward toward the wall stud, looking frantically out the window for any sign of Eberstark.

  Her hands grasped the wood handle, and she pulled until she felt the weight of the metal head release from the stud. Her wrists were burning with pain, and she winced as she tried to rotate one of her hands to get a better grip on the weapon. There was no way she would be able to turn the axe head around with one hand and cut through the tight shoelace restraint. She needed something to hold the tomahawk in place as she sawed through the nylon laces.

  She scanned the room and realized returning to the sofa was her best option. Silently, she backed up to the sofa and carefully placed the wooden handle between the back and the seat cushions. She remembered Clay said it was a sofa bed. She wedged the handle in between the cushions until she heard a dull, metallic clank as the wooden handle hit the hinges of the hidden bed frame. This would help steady the tomahawk as she tried to cut through the ties and not through her delicate hands.

  She positioned her bound wrists against the steel blade of the axe and moved her hands up and down, desperately trying not to cut her wrists. It was working! She felt the nylon give a bit as the blade cut through. Faster, she moved her hands and wrists up and down until she was free. Her arms and hands were trembling, but she couldn’t tell if it was the sudden blood flow back into her hands or the wild adrenaline rush of preparing to take out Eberstark.

  Christ! Just in time. She watched Eberstark, with an armful of firewood, kick the door open. He walked past her, and with a loud crash, he dropped the wood onto the worn floorboards. She kept her arms behind her back as though they were still bound. Her untied hands tightly gripped the tomahawk handle, ready to use the weapon on Eberstark.

  “Is that enough of wood for you, hündin? Or would you like me to burn this shithole down for a bonfire to keep you happy? I am only doing this because I pity you over the pain you will receive from Tivoli when I hand you over to him. I am still amazed at your betrayal, Andie. You, most of all, know what Tivoli does to people who cross him. Ah, that man has a soft heart for you, but now you will die by his hand, and I will retire in a warm place surrounded by naked island girls.” He laughed wickedly and bent down to place the cut firewood into the stove’s belly.

  This was her chance. She had to act now and hit the back of his head with a deadly blow, or at least hit him hard enough to knock him out. She began to stand and desperately tried to tamp down her anxiety. She couldn’t be slow and exact; this was not the movies, and she wasn’t sneaking up on an amateur. She needed to be strong and fast.

  With a quick movement, she raised the tomahawk over her head and swung it at him. Instead of hearing a cry from Eberstark as he lay dying in front of her, she heard the metal edge of the tomahawk hitting the side of the cast-iron stove. Eberstark had suddenly moved his body away to grab more firewood, causing her to miss.

  He rolled to the floor in a defensive tuck position and stared at her in disbelief. For a thin moment, time stood still as both Eberstark and Andie realized what had just happened. But that moment didn’t last. Within a second, he reached for her and threw her on top of the small kitchen table.

  The tomahawk was still grasped in her hand. With all her strength, she desperately tried to use the weapon against him, but she was no match for his brute force. He crushed his powerful chest on top of her, trapping her squirming body against the kitchen table. His meaty hand squeezed at her wrist, causing her to release the weapon from her grip. As she heard the tomahawk hit the floor with a thud, she knew she was defenseless against any harm Luca Eberstark wanted to inflict upon her tender flesh.

  “You whore! I will fucking kill you now! I do not care what orders Tivoli gave. You are dead, hündin ... dead!” He was furious, his words coming at her face with an angry spray of spit.

  This wasn’t happening! She prayed this was all a horrible nightmare and she would find herself awake and safe in Clay’s arms at any moment. Instead, she was painfully pinned under Luca Eberstark, fighting for her life.

  She moved wildly, squirming and twisting to get out from under his large mass, but it was no use, he was too big and strong—and too pissed off. She was trapped.

  “Hold still, Andie. Ah, but maybe you should fight me. I know you like it rough. I watched you and your hero fuck real hard back in that cave right before I bashed his head in. I promise, I will be much harder on you, but this time you will scream my name instead!”

  Andie was horrified. Luca had watched her and Clay share one of the most amazing, heated sexual moments of her life, and now he was about to take his turn on her. He was going to rape her, and her fear began to shut down her senses. She was barely breathing when she suddenly found his disgusting mouth on top of hers, forcing a kiss. Andie bit his bottom lip with such force she thought she would tear it from his ugly face.

  The bold taste of his blood infiltrated her mouth and almost made her vomit, but she held on, only releasing his lip after she felt Eberstark’s hands grip her neck as he began choking the life out of her. She tried to scream, but only a terrible gurgling sound emerged from her throat. She clawed at his hands, but it was useless.

  She was going to die. She waited to see her life pass in front of her, memories of her father and sisters, even early memories of her mother, but nothing came. She tried to imagine Clay’s handsome face and even Claudius’s image, but all was hazy and gray. She was blacking out from lack of oxygen, and soon it would all go dark. Her body began to go limp, and her clawing hands were spiritless. Hot tears slid down her face as her vision and hearing began to wane.

  She suddenly felt him release her neck, only to grab her hands and roughly move them behind her back. He placed all his weight on top of her, and she was pinned to the table as she gasped and choked for air.

  “I am going to make you pay, Andie. You will never forget me. Even Tivoli will not match what I am about to do to you,” he grated out, speaking slowly and methodically. His vile breath scalded Andie’s nostrils, and more of his blood dripped onto her face from his injured lip.

  He reached between her legs and she felt his hand squeeze her hard. His fingers brutishly pulled at the zipper on her pants until he ripped the stitching away. He clawed at the material, exposing her black lace panties.

  This was it.

  She was about to feel pain and humiliation like nothing she’d ever experienced. She tried to fight back, but she was exhausted and beaten. She arched her head back and closed her eyes to remove herself mentally from what was about to happen, but she opened them again in panic and disgust as she felt Eberstark’s disgusting mouth sucking and lapping at her neck.

  Her teary emerald eyes fixed upward on the ceiling. The rotting roof boards sagged from the recent snowfall, surrounding the hole where Clay had spied on one of the Myers brothers with his girlfriend.

  And then her nightmare suddenly turned into a dream as she saw Clay’s heavenly face appear through that same hole.

  She thought she was hallucinating from the lack of oxygen to her brain, but his features were malevolent; he was clearly horrified by the scene he was witnessing through the decayed opening in the roof. She knew he was aware of her pain and humiliation as she lay under Eberstar
k’s body, snared like a wounded animal.

  She was relieved, euphoric, and terrified. Her mind processed the stunning sight of Clay, leaving her motionless and so overwhelmed with emotion that she barely noticed Eberstark working his grotesque mouth down to her breasts as he groped to remove her down jacket and turtleneck.

  Clay held a finger to his lips and mouthed something that looked like, “I’m comin’, baby ... hold on.” She nodded slightly to let him know she was on board with whatever crazy plan he had brewing. Instead of being relieved, she was frightened about the fight that would unfold between Clay and Eberstark.

  Clay had to fall from a hole in the roof and then fight off Eberstark. Someone was going to die, and she didn’t know if her heart could bear any more of this stress. The odds were in Eberstark’s favor, since he was on steady ground and surrounded by accessible weapons. She needed to help Clay in any way possible.

  She pulled her shit together and forced herself to be strong. His harsh kisses against her soft flesh continued, and with a low, raspy voice, she spoke to Eberstark with as much tenderness as she could manage. “Luca, I will let you take me ... willingly. Just let me move a little.” She felt a churning in her stomach as she spoke these words, and her battered throat ached from his recent choke hold.

  She only wanted to distract him, but knowing that Clay was listening made her sick with shame. Never would she let another man lie with her or have her, ever again. She belonged to Clay—and he to her.

  “Ah, hündin, you are a sneaky whore, and I do not trust you. A moment ago you tried to kill me. I rather fuck you my way.”

  “Luca, please! Let me show you. You will enjoy my touch. I will be with you willingly, and it will be better than just screwing a piece of meat.” She tried to phrase it in words that even the dumbest and most vile creature could understand. But Luca Eberstark was beneath the lowest of creatures, and she was doubtful he would fall for her performance.