Текст книги "Burning Blood"

Автор книги: Pepper winters

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Chapter Three

THE GUARDS GASPED IN UNISON, TAKING a collective, giant step backward.

Two slipped on the wet grass. One turned bright red as if he’d choked.

The guns vanished, hands slipping on holsters.

They all clustered together as if holding a very important meeting—their shoulders knocking, heads bowing as they muttered in sharp, frantic whispers. One of them swore viciously and yanked a walkie-talkie from his belt, hands shaking as he pressed the button to talk.

That was how he planned to prevent them from killing me? By telling them I was knocked up with an Ashfall child?

What about after?

What about when they tried to confirm said pregnancy and found nothing but a lie?

In the dense blood-red maple trees to my left, a shadow hissed, low and violent, followed by an impatient grumble to intervene.

Lucien stiffened beside me, noticing his panther’s fraying self-control. “Stay put,” he commanded under his breath. “You mess this up, and I’ll never talk to you again.”

The sudden urge to laugh like a crazy person had me clamping a hand over my mouth.

Stress did odd things to people and right now, it was either giggle hysterically at Lucien giving his panther such a childish ultimatum or pass out at his feet.

Lucien shot me a worried look before he smothered it with disdain.

The guards suddenly got a handle on their shock and gawked at me as if I was a goddess perched on a fertility shrine. Their eyes widened as they looked me up and down, acting as if they’d personally witnessed us in bed together. Watched us writhing and thrusting, creating something that didn’t exist.

The urge to laugh vanished as suddenly as it’d arrived.

Pain and dizziness grew stronger.

Whisper snapped his teeth, whining a little as he sensed my rapidly building panic. But he didn’t venture out from the maples. Didn’t dare go against Lucien’s order to ‘stay put.’

Taking a step forward, the redhead stiffened as if he was reporting to the army. He flicked a look at Lucien but couldn’t stop his gaze straying back to my very empty, very unfertilised belly. “She’s pregnant?”

My knees threatened to buckle.

But Lucien just stood there, calm as could be in the eye of the storm he’d deliberately created. “Yepppp.” He popped the P, making it sound like an achievement. A notable award at impregnating me instead of the calculated lie that it was.

I couldn’t look away from him.

Couldn’t unscramble fact from fiction because he’d turned into such a chameleon. Who exactly was he? What part of him was real? Had any of the moments we’d shared been true? Or was I just the fool he’d trained and cultivated—turning me into a weapon?

But if I was, why me?

He could’ve used any other girl. Any other foolish, ridiculous girl who stupidly thought she had feelings for him. Someone who didn’t blackout.

My heart sank.

I’d let this man in.

I’d treated him sincerely but...what if he’d merely been moving people around on his chessboard—playing a long game of strategy, sacrificing what needed to be sacrificed, and lying so convincingly?

I swallowed hard as tears ached.

Maybe I’d been nothing more than the chess piece my namesake said I was. A rook used to claim checkmate.

A big black paw appeared from beneath the weeping maple branches.

Whisper’s golden eyes caught mine as if he could taste my heartbreak.

I sucked in a breath as the wet-slick panther slunk out and—

Four guns whipped back up, fingers pressing on triggers.

Instinct screamed at me to move—to put myself between Whisper and those weapons—

Lucien moved first.

“Don’t hurt her!” His hand snatched tight around mine and hauled me backward—placing me solidly behind him. Shielding me. Hiding me with his body as if his fear hadn’t been for his best friend but...for me.

My aching heart ignited with truth.

No matter what lies he said or tricks he used...this thing between us? This something we both didn’t want to name...was real.

He’d pulled me out of harm’s way. Protected me over his beloved panther. And nothing he said—no story he spun or lie he could weave—could change that.

He stiffened, realising what he’d done.

What he’d just revealed...to all of us.

My headache reached burnout levels.

God, I was an idiot.

But only because I’d doubted him when all I had to do was focus on the unexplainable bond between us. The crazy, incredible connection that couldn’t be faked.

My hand—still gripping the knife—pressed against his damp shirt. The blade snagged on cotton as I breathed in his heat, his violence, his unwanted admission that he cared.

He stiffened as if he didn’t want me touching him, then shuddered as I pressed my forehead to his spine.

Whatever game Lucien was playing, this moment was real. The night he’d killed Evelyn and Lydia to protect me. The days he’d pressed his wrist to my lips to give me his blood. The way he kissed me as if I’d stolen his very soul.

Those. Were. Real.

And if he needed me to help him win whatever battle he fought...so be it.

Pushing off him, I shifted to his side.

I tried to pull my hand from his—to continue the pantomime—but he just fisted me painfully tight. His jaw clenched as if he’d happily wring my neck if I tried to get away from him.

My vision continued to feather at the edges as a migraine made everything so much worse, but I stopped fighting and just waited. I waited for his next cue, ready to step up on stage with him and play whatever role he needed.

Whisper took another step toward us as if he’d followed everything that’d happened.

The guards braced themselves to fire and Lucien barked, “You so much as singe his whiskers and I’ll rip out your innards with my bare hands.”

The men swallowed and very reluctantly lowered their weapons.

“You.” Locking gazes with the panther, Lucien ordered, “Go.” The two of them shared a silent argument before the huge predator hissed and slinked back into the maples. He vanished with a lash of his tail.

The guards shifted uncomfortably—highly aware they were being hunted but under strict orders not to hurt the Ashfall companion.

The redheaded guard cleared his throat. “So...she’s pregnant.”

Four pairs of eyes locked onto my belly.

I wrapped my free arm around my stomach as Lucien nodded. “She is.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Lucien muttered coldly. “Or are you saying I’m too sheltered and stupid to understand that when a girl misses her period—after prolonged ‘activities’—she’s knocked up?”

My thighs pressed together as my mind helpfully bombarded me with images of said activities. Of Lucien on top of me. Inside me. Doing things I’d wanted to do yet never did.

“Marcus knows I’ve never wanted a child of mine to go through what I do. I vowed I would never give in and yet...here we are. I broke my own law and slept with her, and now? I don’t fucking care anymore. My child can serve in my place.”

“I hear what you’re saying,” the guard said gently as if he spoke to a man about to lose control. “But just because she’s pregnant doesn’t mean—”

“It means I get my freedom. Tell Marcus I’m trading my child’s life for my own. Do whatever you want with it. Torture it like you torture me, I don’t care. But you will let me go.”

“Look, I know it’s been a rough day so...how about you return to your room? Get dry and take a nap. Once Marcus arrives, we’ll come fetch you and—”

“Take a nap?” Lucien whirled on the man. “Take a fucking nap?” The words tore out of him, raw and animalistic, echoing across the wet grounds.

The guards instinctively backed up, hands flying to their weapons as Lucien stalked toward them, eyes blazing, rage burning so hotly, I swore steam curled off his shoulders in the rain.

Whisper launched out of the weeping maples, unable to obey any longer.

With the panther glued to his side, Lucien seethed. “You expect me to go back into that cage, even though I’ve given him what he wanted?” He laughed manically, flinging out his arms, silver cuffs glinting on his wrists. “If I go back in there, he’ll kill me one bloodletting at a time. He’ll leave me to rot and crush whatever strength I have left. Fuck that. I’m done. I’m fucking done, do you hear me? So fuck you and your fucking nap. I’m walking out of that fucking gate and—”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the redhead interrupted, calmly, coolly—a heartless jailer in the face of his breaking prisoner. “But you’ll never walk outside these walls in this lifetime. Those are Mr. Ward’s orders. Not mine. You can give him ten children, a hundred children, and his answer will be the same.”

The words hit Lucien like a physical blow.

A sound tore out of his chest—something raw and primal that drove an arrow right through my soul. “I can’t...I can’t stand another day of this bullshit.”

Spinning to find me behind him, he pounced on me. Dragging me into him, he pressed his lips to my ear and hissed, “Do it. Stab me.” Droplets leaked off the ends of his glossy black hair as he quaked. “I’ve said such vile things so you have a logical reason to attack me. If you truly were pregnant, how could you ever let me get away with trading our child’s life for mine?”

His voice turned breathless as if he truly was losing his sanity. “They won’t risk taking me out unless I’m dying. I’m worth too much to risk. You heard him. They have no intention of ever letting me go. They’ll never allow me to walk out of those doors unless I’m clinging to the last dregs of life. So do it. They won’t kill you. Not now. As long as they think you’re pregnant, you’re safe.”

His fingers wrapped around my nape, threatening to break every bone in my spine if I didn’t obey. “I’m not asking this time, Rook. If you don’t stab me...all of this was for nothing. You’ll never get out. I’ll die in here. And...” His lips seared my hairline as he kissed me ever so softly. “I’ll never get the chance to know what it would feel like to fall for you. Never allow myself to drop my guard and be with you in any other way than hate.”

He swallowed a groan. “Every day I’ve spent with you, you’ve made me hungry. And now, I’m fucking starving to know what it would be like to trust you. To taste you, fuck you...be with you, but...I refuse to eat until I’m free. So...kill me. Do it. Fucking kill me, Rook. Please. Before it’s too late.”

Chapter Four

HIS CONFESSION HIT ME LIKE A DRUG I hadn’t consented to take.

Heat flooded my body, my breath caught, and an unbearable ache coiled low and hot between my legs.

“You’ve made me fucking starving but...I refuse to eat until I’m free.”

His voice echoed over and over in my mind.

I shuddered on the spot as my migraine brought nausea out to play.

I hated him for a split second.

Hated how easily he manipulated me.

Any second now, I would throw up.

It was too much.

Too much.

But then my gaze fell to his throat.

Memories of him teaching me the most vulnerable spots on a person. Of him angling the blade tip over his neck and tracing it down his chest—

I cringed away. “I-I want to help you. God, I want it more than anything, but...” I flicked a look at the guard before stepping into him and whispering, “How I’ve not passed out yet is a miracle. You can’t ask me for two.”

“Fine.” Lucien nodded, his eyes wild and borderline insane. “I’ll do it myself. Like I’ve always done.”

A wave of vertigo struck—

I staggered as the world turned to a pinprick.

“Oh no, you don’t get to pass out. Not yet.” His hate sounded so real, so vicious. He hated me. He’d asked for my help and...I’d let him down. Just like everyone else.

A rush of sickness made me violently ill.

“You don’t get to blackout and miss this.” Keeping his back to the guards, he tore the knife out of my hand and went to plunge it into his chest.

I choked—

He groaned as his hand stopped mid-strike. The soft beep and flash of red from the metal disc above his heart smashed into him, preventing him from self-harming.

Pain erupted in his eyes. His shoulders rolled in defeat. And his perpetually raging fire guttered with despair.

For the first time since I’d met him, the rage that kept him breathing, kept him fighting, didn’t roar but...snuffed out.

He staggered, barely holding onto consciousness.

One of the guards noticed I wasn’t holding the knife anymore. “Grab the girl. We’re leaving. Mr. Ward is running behind and I’m sick of standing in the rain.”

Three men headed toward me.

And Lucien didn’t move.

The fact that he didn’t move.

That he couldn’t move.

That he fought his buckling knees and clung to that knife with everything he had left.

I saw every implosion of his heart. Every destruction of his soul. He looked devastated and desperate—shaking, burning, denied air and sun and life—and...I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t be the reason he failed.

Stepping into him, I pulled the dagger from his shaking fingers.

Our eyes locked.

I drowned in his breaking and didn’t stand a chance.

My soul latched onto his.

And something happened.

A rush of ice.

A blast of cold.

Refreshing and healing and powerful.

So, so powerful.

Powerful enough to keep me awake, to numb my pain, to do this one last thing for him.

Rain pelted us harder.

Whisper snapped his jaws.

And I committed to him, not just for this lifetime but for all of them.

Lucien’s gaze dove into mine as I drew back the knife...and killed him.

Chapter Five

I’D BEEN POISONED, BLED, AND REGULARLY knocked unconscious but nothing prepared me for the sensation of icy steel sinking into my chest.

Hitting bone.

Reverberating through both of us.

I couldn’t look away as our eyes locked and life as I knew it ended.

I died on that very spot—drenched by the storm and so fucking close to losing it—all because she’d helped me.

But then agony etched her beautiful black eyes as she whimpered and glanced down—to her delicate hand wrapped around the hilt. To the dagger embedded deep in my body, directly opposite my heart.

A sob escaped her as my blood started to seep...

“Huh.” I shuddered as the surrealism of the moment made everything dreamlike. My fingers strayed to where the weapon punctured me, my fingertips coming away bright red. “So that’s what it feels like.”

She wrenched backward, almost falling over Whisper as the panther circled me, hissing, growling, losing his ever-loving mind.

She glanced at her hands speckled with my blood.

The guards went berserk, bellowing into their walkie-talkies for help, but they weren’t important.

The only thing that was important was her.

She’d set me free.

She’d helped me when no one else ever had and...fuck.

I staggered as my body finally caught the memo that it’d been stabbed.

The odd numbness vanished and...PAIN.

Ridiculous, breath-stealing pain.

The agony was obscene. Unique and deep and hot but...I laughed.

I laughed like a madman as I looked down at the dagger embedded inside me—the key to my freedom. The key I hadn’t been able to turn on my own. “You know—” I jerked as the vitalsync core reacted to my skipping, tripping pulse, dosing my system with fresh fire. “I’ve tried to do that for two decades.”

I looked up, caught her eyes, and bowed my head in utmost gratitude. “Thank you.”

Rook choked on a sob as she swayed, the familiar signs of her condition trying to steal her from me.

Stumbling forward, I cupped her cheeks.

The second I touched her, she started to cry.

She clung to my wrists, clutching at my silver cuffs, mumbling and quaking.

Another punch of agony ripped through me.

The guards continued their mania in the background.

But no one fired because they thought she was pregnant.

No one tried to snatch her off me because if I was dying, she became absolutely vital.

Pain continued to build and burn, but I dragged her into me. Running my thumbs under her wet eyes, I kissed her forehead in utmost fucking gratitude. It flooded me like the hottest wave, fierce and unbearable, burning hotter than the pain.

Finally.

Fucking finally.

She’d given me such mercy, such a gift—

She seized in my hold.

Her eyes rolled back.

She fainted.

I had no strength to hold her up.

I fell with her.

We tumbled together like two useless creatures who’d reached their limit.

The impact jarred the knife—

Pain surged so violently, my vision exploded with colourful static.

I twitched beneath Rook as she landed half on top of me. Her cheek rested on my lower belly; her hair spread over my chest, sticking to the blood seeping through my shirt.

Whisper howled, prowling tight, frantic circles around us, snarling and snapping at any guard who tried to come close. He roared again, deep and thunderous—warning the guards to back the fuck up.

The men wisely backed the fuck up.

The world narrowed to nothing more than pain and rain and the girl breathing weakly against my stomach.

My hands shook as I tried to move, to shield her and pull her close, but my muscles weren’t listening anymore. The vitalsync core delivered another wash of fire, tangling with the flames already blazing in my bloodstream, hissing with heat as it escaped through the hole in my chest.

The action of filling my lungs suddenly felt far too dangerous—almost as if the dagger pricked my lung. Every instinct screamed to tear the blade out, to get medical aid, to not die, but I wanted this to look bad.

I needed this to look like I was dying because only then—only if I was moments from death—would they risk taking me out.

Another thunderous roar smacked my ears as Whisper launched at the redheaded guard—James—as he tried to get to me. James was one of the regulars who came to collect my blood on harvesting days. He’d always been pleasant and polite but never once cared that I was trapped and tortured and today, he would pay for that.

“Call off your beast!” he bellowed. “Let us help you!”

Whisper’s hackles turned his sleek pelt into a wire brush of rage, his tail whipping in the rain. With a snap of his fangs, he stalked toward me and stood directly over me and Rook. His black legs braced over my body, his giant paws planted on the grass.

I chuckled even though it cost me.

The dagger fucking hurt.

I hadn’t been prepared for it to drain me of energy so quickly. To bleed me far too fast.

Glancing down my body, I focused on Rook. Her skin was ghostly pale and icy, her lips colourless and parted.

I wanted to curse her for being so useless.

To rage at her for letting stress control her system but...a different kind of emotion cloaked me instead. A fiery kind of ferociousness that centred directly in my heart that had nothing to do with the vitalsync core.

“Lucien. Mr. Ashfall. Please.” James tried again. “Mr. Ward is on his way. Let us get you inside. He’s bringing doctors to treat you.”

What?

In here?

No.

Fuck no.

That couldn’t happen.

I’d done all this to get out there.

My heart pounded, triggering another dose from the vitalsync core.

Black spots danced over my eyes as my system singed with fresh misery. The flames in my blood did their best to compete with the savage steel in my chest, overloading me, making me twitch. Fat droplets fell from the sky, splashing onto Whisper then onto me, diluting my blood until it ran in pink rivulets into the grass.

If they didn’t take me out of here...

If all of this was for nothing?

I couldn’t fucking breathe.

Whisper glanced down as I choked on twenty years of panic. His whiskers twinkled with droplets, his eyebrows drawn together so tightly.

If this plan was failing...I’d just have to go with another one.

And that meant, I needed her again.

Looking away from the panther’s golden eyes—blocking out the guards as they continued to fight amongst themselves on how to remove Whisper without harming him or getting bitten—I arched my leg just enough to bump Rook off my stomach and send her rolling onto her back.

Her backpack arched her spine as she lay half on it, half on the grass.

I went rigid as my gaze landed on her slack, gorgeous face. Wet thick eyelashes like phoenix feathers. Dusky perfect skin like honey.

My feelings chose that ridiculous moment to betray me because...there was no going back from this.

Either I died or survived, but even dead I didn’t stand a chance against her.

Looking away from the unconscious girl—the girl who’d been the key to unlocking the door—I fumbled in my pocket for the one thing that would hopefully let me walk through it.

Narrowing my eyes on the guards as they continued to squabble about how to safely take me back to the palace, I used my last remaining strength to slip my hand into my pocket and fumble with the silk pouch I’d taken from beneath the drawer when Rook drew my blood.

My teeth chattered violently as agony sent me closer to death. The grass beneath me felt impossibly cold. The rain too loud.

My fingers quaked as I withdrew a large silver pill.

Whisper looked down from where he guarded me, his eyes glowing bright as I slowly brought it to my mouth.

I didn’t care what the guards were doing or how much time I had before Marcus arrived. I just focused on staying the fuck alive as I placed the pill on my tongue and worked up enough saliva to swallow.

The pill tasted bitter and sour and was so big it was a choking hazard.

I winced as it went down unwillingly, then turned to look at Rook.

How was I supposed to get her to swallow one?

I’d stupidly given Rook one of these highly treasured painkillers when she first arrived at Cinderkeep. She didn’t know the value of what I’d given her. And who knew how many we’d need before today was through.

The guards threw me another worried look as they huddled in a group, going over the pros and cons of the situation, held at bay thanks to Whisper.

“You’re a good friend, you stupid beast,” I choked, wrapping my hand around Whisper’s leg. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He huffed as if telling me to save my thanks. Narrowing his gaze on the guards, another rumble echoed in his chest.

Leaving him to guard us, I shuffled closer to Rook.

My teeth almost severed my bottom lip, doing my best not to cry out from the pain. Black spots turned to black sheets, yanking me from the world of the living and straight to the world of the dead.

Not yet.

Not.

Yet.

Rook couldn’t swallow the pill in her current condition, and I couldn’t fucking do this without her, so...with shaking fingers, I scooped up the blood soaking my shirt instead.

Whisper huffed as if questioning my sanity as I gathered what I could then pushed my fingers into her parted mouth.

She frowned in her sleep, wincing as I painted her tongue with my blood.

I did it again. Fighting unconsciousness.

Gathering more crimson directly from my wound, I inserted as much as I could past her lips.

She coughed, her body’s natural reflex kicking in so she didn’t choke.

I didn’t know how much longer before she’d wake but I already felt the effects of the painkiller. Marcus never told me how he’d come across such a miraculous medicine as the Cryolyt pill. And I’d never dared take one—even on the days I’d screamed for the pain to stop—hoarding them for the day I escaped.

But now?

Now, I finally knew what they felt like.

Heartbeat by heartbeat, ice-water flowed through my veins, snuffing out the constant fire from the vitalsync core and removing the throbbing punch of being stabbed. As the numbing fog worked through me—steadying my breath and keeping me alive—a strange kind of strength unfurled beneath it. A strength that felt as if it came from my very bones—a power that hummed and thrummed, familiar but also foreign...mocking me as if it’d always been there just hidden.

The guards continued to bark into their walkie-talkies, throwing panicked looks at the gate as if praying Marcus would appear any second and take charge.

Shifting under Whisper’s towering bulk, I caught the cat’s eyes as my hand strayed to the dagger in my chest.

I’d wanted to keep it in for visual purposes. To make them panic and take me to the hospital. But these bastards were too well trained or too scared of repercussions, so...I would pivot.

Gritting my teeth, I wrapped my fingers around the hilt and tugged.

A flash of searing pain cut through the foggy numbness of the pill, but I ignored it.

I kept pulling, wincing at the sickening sensation of it coming free from my body. I groaned as I tugged it the final way.

The guards spun to face me, horror on their faces as fresh blood drenched my shirt, glossy and thick even on black fabric in the rain. “What the hell are you doing?! Stop it. You’re bleeding. Shit, it’s everywhere!” They rushed toward me but wheeled backward again as Whisper opened his jaws and roared.

“Don’t move, alright?” James panicked, raking a hand through his dripping hair. The fact that no one had shot Whisper was a testament to how afraid they were of me. How afraid they were of my blood...even if I was bleeding out before them.

“Mr. Ward is almost here. J-Just...wait. We’ll get you sorted. Just...fuck, don’t die.”

If Marcus was almost here, that meant I had to hurry.

Because the games weren’t over yet.

And once they were, I wanted to stand on a hilltop of their corpses, not look out from behind prison bars.

That left only one option.

Slaughter my way out.