by A C Bell
Fear gripped me. Where was Stokes? I needed to make noise. Wake Peter. An arm wove under my back and another under my knees and Ian scooped me up. I managed a lethargic grunt of complaint but couldn’t fight him off, but I hooked my fingers into the hole at the top of the lampshade and managed to pull it off the nightstand as Ian turned. The bulb shattered when it hit the floor and I prayed it was enough to pull Peter from his sleep. Ice slid through my veins and my vision blurred more as we passed through the doorway. Stokes was on the ground in the hallway. Was he just unconscious or…?
Everything faded into darkness.
✽✽✽
When I woke up, I didn't see anything. Wherever I was, it was so dark that I couldn't tell the difference between having my eyes open or closed. I even tested it several times to be sure. How long had I been out? Based on how groggy I felt, I'd say it had been quite a while, but maybe that was just from whatever he’d used to knock me out. I rolled over and realized I couldn't move much. Partly because my hands and feet were tied, but also because the sounds of a motor and the constant jostling of my container told me I was in the trunk of a car.
Waking up in a small space, bound and gagged? Maybe this would have been an understandable time to panic, and yet, all I could think was: This is getting ridiculous. If the clanking of the motor and constant rumbling were any indication, I was in an older car; one that needed its shocks replaced based on how much the car bounced up and down when we hit a bump.
I needed to regain mobility of my limbs. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Ian knew what my splinter skill was because he’d tied my hands together with duct tape. I rolled onto my stomach, ignoring the itchy floor matt pressing into my cheek, and lined up my hands with my lower back. In one of the self-defense classes Mom had taken with me, the man had demonstrated a way to break zip-ties. I imagined it would also work on duct tape, especially with my strength. I let adrenaline fuel my arms until they shook and wrenched them apart the way he’d showed us.
The duct tape ripped apart. With my hands free I was able to rip the tape from my ankles and was home free. Okay, not home free. I was still trapped in the trunk of a car. Given that this seemed like an older model, I hoped I’d be able to find what I was looking for. I ran my hands along the walls to find the door. One side was covered in scruffy carpeting, so that clearly wasn't it. I focused on the corner of the other side until I found the brake light. Stretching as far as the small space would allow, I found the light on the other end with my bare feet and got into position with my heel against it.
“Here goes nothing,” I muttered to myself. I slammed my heel into it and felt it come loose. Encouraged, I rammed my foot into it again. It popped free. A laugh of relief escaped me and I fumbled around and put my face in front of the hole I'd created. My efforts were rewarded with crisp fresh air.
The dangling light clanked against the bumper. Normally I would have worried about being zapped, but I couldn’t allow Ian to hear it clanging around so I ripped the wires out and let the thing clatter to the street and disappear in the darkness. I took a deep breath to calm myself and surveyed what I could see outside. It was still night, though without being able to see the moon, I had no idea what time it was.
To the right of the winding road stood a wall of trees and to the left, surprise, surprise, were more trees. A pain to journey through, but a great place to hide from monsters. However promising it looked, I couldn't help thinking of the last time I'd found myself running for my life in the woods and my nerves caught up with me, making it difficult to breathe. But there was no time for that and Gabriel wasn’t here, anyway. I needed to get out.
I pulled away from the hole and set my feet on the lip of the trunk. Strength and adrenaline filled my limbs and I began to push. After a few minutes of trying, nothing happened. Frustration flared in my chest. Then, slowly, I heard the low growl of metal bending out of shape as the sensation of my splinter skill kicking into higher gear coursed through me.
The car jostled and slowed to a stop. I froze. Had Ian heard? A car door opened and I stuffed the gag back into my mouth and held my hands and ankles together, resuming my original position. My pulse quickened with every step he took. He didn’t come around back, though. There was a trickling sound. It sounded like he was taking a piss. No, the sound was inside the car. Was he dowsing it in gas or something? Then the crunching of leaves moved to the back of the car and I heard Ian swear. The brake light. A popped-out brake light was a difficult thing to miss. I guess that thwarted the element of surprise.
“You’ve been busy.”
I rolled onto my back and readied my legs into position as Ian jostled the key in the lock. As the trunk opened, I aimed and thrust my feet into Ian’s chest as hard as I could. I heard the wind rush from his lungs and he flew backward several feet, sprawling on the pavement on impact. I fumbled from the trunk, making a hard left.
A tree branch flew off the ground in front of me and hit my legs with enough force to knock them out from under me. Small rocks bit painfully into my arms and knees as I braced myself and pavement scraped my skin as he dragged me toward him with another cast of telekinesis. Did he ever use anything else? Apparently, yes. His heavy fist slammed into my cheek and sent phosphenes sparkling across my vision. While I was stunned, he pulled something from his pocket. I heard a clicking and a small flame ignited from the lighter.
For one terrifying second, I thought he was going to set me on fire. But no, he had poured something into the car. Sure enough, he chucked the lighter behind him through an open window. Orange flames sprang to life inside. Why was he burning it? Was this…where he planned to ‘cure’ me? The middle of the road? I needed to find a weapon. Anything. Ian was searching the trees for something, so I took the opportunity to look around as well.
There; a jagged rock the size of a baseball. The broken stick could also be useful if it was sturdy enough. As I slowly reached for them I noticed another car parked further down the street, the moon reflecting brightly in its rear window. If we were just switching cars, at least I had time.
Ian gave up on finding whatever he was looking for and knelt over me with a twisted frown. I smiled up at him and his brows scrunched in confusion. He didn’t see the rock until I smashed it into his jaw. He fell away from me, howling in pain and gripping his face. I needed to slow him down so he couldn’t follow, so as much pause as it gave me, I stabbed the broken stick into his thigh. He screamed.
I ran, and unlike anyone I’ve ever seen in a movie, I kept the rock gripped so tightly in my hand that its edges chewed into my palm and fingers. Twigs and rocks stung my bare feet but I forced myself to ignore the pain and just kept sprinting, zigzagging through the forest so I would be more difficult to follow.
“No!” he shouted in rage as he pursued me.
Fortunately, with the leg wound, he moved much slower than I did, even without my shoes. What should I do now? Though I ran every morning and was in plenty good shape, I couldn’t keep running forever and I had no idea where we even were or how far the nearest sign of civilization was. My safest bet was to hide and hope I could get the drop on him or that he would eventually give up and leave.
Since most of the leaves had fallen off the trees at this point, I couldn’t risk climbing into one. He might be able to spot me. A gap between a fern bush and a handful of tall aspens seemed like as good a place as any, though. I reversed into it, the prickly claws of the bush scratching my skin. With deep breaths, I calmed and quieted my breathing.
I waited and listened. Cold mud numbed my skin through my jeans. Why had I taken off my stupid shoes? Though he may have taken them even if I hadn’t. It was difficult not to focus on the bleeding scrapes and cuts nature had inflicted on my aching feet.
Footsteps quietly crunched leaves and twigs, but it was hard to distinguish the sound from the rustling the wind caused. He moved slowly, probably listening for me. It sounded like he paused close to my hiding place, but I couldn’t see him and didn’t dare t
urn my head and make noise. My nerves clenched when I heard a small clicking sound and then silence. I waited. Then a bright light caught my attention in the bush. Fire? Fire!
It was spreading quickly, consuming the dried branches. I scrambled from my hiding place to the sound of roaring laughter. A strong hand yanked me to my feet by my hair and the back of my shirt and then an arm wrapped around my middle to pin my arms to myself. No, I thought in dread. It wasn’t Ian who’d found me. The freak had found help.
“Hello, Darlin’.” Gabriel’s words snaked through my hair, stained with the smell of tobacco. He was still laughing and flipped his lighter closed before dropping it into the pocket of his duster. How had he found me? my mind asked frantically. A gust of wind blew the smell of coconut into my nose and I pinched my eyes closed. My shampoo. He’d smelled my shampoo. Coconuts didn’t exactly grow wild around here. I didn’t waste time responding to his greeting and instead lifted both feet off the ground, knowing he would be holding on tight enough to hold me up. I kicked his legs with both feet and he dropped me with a growl.
I landed and twisted to deliver another kick to his gut before he could tackle me. This clearly pissed him off and he grabbed my foot and wrenched me off my feet. My brain rattled around painfully in my skull when I hit the ground and sticks bit into me. He stooped to pick me up and I swung my free leg around into the side of his knee. The surprise of the blow sent him to the ground as well. Now that he was on my level I lifted a foot and slammed my heel down on his face. His nose gave a crunch and he screamed. Broken again.
I rolled out of the way before his fist could slam down on my gut in retaliation. Dark blood was streaked down into the jagged scar in his jaw where I’d gotten him with the knife and he wiped it away with the sleeve of his jacket. His lips parted in a snarl and he charged. My veins practically boiled with adrenaline and when he was about to tackle me, I sidestepped and threw my arm into his shoulders in a clothes-line, countering his supernatural strength and momentum with enough force to knock him flat on his back. In that moment, we both realized something;
I was stronger than him. I smiled.
His dark eyes widened and his nostrils flared. At first, I didn’t notice his skin turning grey, but then the hair on his arms started sprouting thicker. Then the muscles started rippling and the bones of his limbs started cracking as they reshaped to grow longer.
I looked around for something to use before he turned into a beast; I’d dropped my rock when he set the bush on fire, but that was okay. A large broken branch was tangled in the tree above my head. I pulled it down and snapped it in half over my knee. The broken edges would do nicely.
Gabriel was still on the ground, his back arched and his face contorted in a grimace of pain. He looked up at me and to my surprise, I found fear in the depths of his grey eyes. Fear and vulnerability. He’d underestimated how long it would take him to change.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hurt him while he was in this defenseless state. I took a step back and found myself in the air. I let out a shriek of surprise and stared down at my feet dangling ten inches off the ground. The sticks were pulled from my grip, scratching my hands as they were ripped free. Ian limped in front of me. He was holding a syringe and I squirmed desperately to get free, but all the strength in the world can’t fight against an invisible force.
“I’m sorry. I’m only trying to help you…”
“No!”
I struggled harder when the needle neared my arm, but he jabbed it in and pushed the plunger. Familiar ice slid through my body. The last thing I saw was Ian turning around to face Gabriel. He was still writhing on the ground while his change finished.
21 Motivations and Empty Words
When I came to, I was sitting in an uncomfortable metal chair staring down at my knees. As was always my first instinct when I awoke, I shifted my feet. Or tried to. They were tied together again. They were also wrapped in linen and the squishy feeling between my toes suggested some kind of ointment had been applied. My arms were strapped to the chair by leather restraints, but I could tell that I didn’t have the strength to break free. Ian must have used something to keep me subdued.
I groggily lifted my heavy head and looked around the dimly lit main room of our camping cabin. A fire crackled in the stone fireplace in front of me, warming my cold bones, and the pitter patter of a light rainfall on the windows almost calmed me down. The coffee table had been pushed out of the way so this restraint chair would fit in front of the sofa. I found Ian at the desk below the window to my left, mixing something in what sounded like a stone bowl. A mortar and pestle, maybe?
“You wrapped my feet?”
“They were bleeding. You cut them up pretty badly by running off like that.”
I couldn’t help a small scoff. “What did you expect me to do? You abducted me.”
“I only want to help you.”
“Wow. You almost sound like you actually care about me.”
He kept his back to me and held a beaker in front of his face to measure a liquid into it. I assumed he was ignoring me and almost didn’t hear him when he muttered, “I do.”
Anger tightened my chest. “No, you don’t. If you did you wouldn’t think that being a dhampir means that something is wrong with me.”
“I know more about this part of the world than you do. Can you honestly tell me that you’re happier now that you know? You always seemed fine to me.”
Uneasiness settled in my gut. “What do you mean? How long have you been watching me?” I asked. Ian cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. Had he not intended to reveal that much? “It’s too late, now. Just tell me.”
I heard an irritable sigh reverberate from his lungs but his voice was soft when he answered. “The first time I saw you, I was fifteen. You were eleven. I’d just found a letter my dad had left me and when I tried to check up on your dad, I learned he was dead, too. I wanted to see you with my own eyes, so I went to your school. You were with Nicole, sitting on a bench during recess. You were laughing. Just…laughing. I’ve kept tabs ever since, to make sure you were okay.”
To make sure I was still normal. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about the fact that someone had been watching me for nine years. More alarming was his tone. He spoke so fondly of the memory. Did he think he was in love with me? “You’ve been watching me all this time? Then, why now?”
Now that he had added three things to the beaker, he held it up to the light. It was a pinkish color, but he jiggled it around and flicked the glass and the color shifted to a pale green. “I have to do this before you use too much of your splinter skill. Activating it a lot puts too much magic in the blood and negates the effects of the serum. If I’m going to save you, it has to be now.”
“Is your father the only reason you’re doing this?”
Finally, he turned around to face me and crossed his arms defensively over his chest while he leaned on the desk. A pensive frown curled his lips. “I want you to understand.”
“I think I do. My dad exposed your father’s rotten underbelly, showed everyone that deep down he was just a racist trying to inflict his anti-Semitic ideals on innocent people who couldn’t help being born the way they were any more than he could. A few years after he was caught he learned he was wrong and couldn’t handle it, so he took his own life. And like every twisted creep out there, instead of dealing with your problems rationally, you blame my dad for getting him caught. But he’s been gone for years, so you’re stuck with me. Do you really want so badly to be like him?”
He inhaled irritably and turned back to the table. I couldn’t tell what he was doing, but when he faced me again, he had a syringe in one hand and a rag cinched in the other. He certainly had an infatuation with needles. “The difference between me and my father is I made it work. The element he overlooked was a dhampir’s splinter skill. He made one formula and thought it should work for anyone, but I figured out how to counter a dhampir’s specific ability.”
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br /> My eyes were glued to the needle as he crossed the distance between us in gimpy strides, his shoes making soft whispers against the circular area rug. He knelt in front of me, his brown eyes flickering amber as they reflected the flame in the fireplace.
“I cured a man in Salem and came back here for you. Now that the cynocephalus helped me figure out what your splinter skill is, I was able to make your formula.”
I continued to stare at the needle, sadness growing in my chest. And as much as it horrified me to even be considering it, I actually debated letting him try. What if he could make it work? I would never have to go through anything like this ever again. But a stronger part of me fought back against this idea. I wouldn’t let someone change who I was just because he couldn’t accept me. And more importantly, I didn’t want to lose that part of myself. My eyes stung with the threat of tears as fear welled up in me. I blinked them away and met his gaze.
“Please, don’t do this.” I whispered.
He actually faltered. His lips flicked down in sorrow, his eyes replete with remorse and even compassion. He glanced down at the floor to recompose himself, then stood and brandished the rag. I tried to resist when he fitted it between my teeth, but I could only do so much in my weakened state. There was some sort of dense waxy rod or something in the middle. It was to keep me from biting my tongue, I realized. This would hurt. My heart began to race when he tied a rubber strip around my arm to make the veins bulge. It sped up even more when he slid the needle in.
“Dose one of ten. It will hurt less if you don’t fight it.”
Regardless of the mental preparation I tried to make, I wasn’t ready. He may as well have injected pure alcohol into my bloodstream. It was as if the elixir were attacking my very essence. In a way, I suppose it was. I bit down hard on the tongue guard and the gag muffled my scream. I didn’t know how long it lasted, but Ian stared at his watch the entire time. Was he concerned about time or could he just not bear to look at me?