Blood and Damnation Page 9

  She raised her hands in defense, as if she could somehow hold off my frustration and annoyance. “Will you not listen to common sense? If you’re not afraid of getting caught in the storm, are you at least aware that the darker it gets, the braver ruffians will be as they see us traveling the road home?” Then with that steel and spitfire nature I’d grown to admire, she threw in another consideration. “Is your pride that important that you would risk your life—our lives? What of your holy mission to bring down the vengeance of heaven against your enemies? You can’t do that if you’re dead, Marcus. Please, take a deep breath and think.”

  I slammed my mouth shut—unable to see a way to counter her opinion. She was right, and it rankled me down to my very last nerve.

  “She’s right, and you know it, master,” Knox added, his own sarcasm evident as it dripped from the title he used for me. “You have a right to be angry. What you don’t have the right to is taking risks with everyone else’s lives.”

  I let out another drawn-out breath, my fists clenching and unclenching. Before I could change my mind, I caved, and banged on the roof once more. “Driver, stop at the next town so we can find shelter.”

  “As you wish,” came the muffled reply.

  “Thank you.” Catriona rested her hand lightly on my arm, the warmth of her touch breaching the barriers my clothes provided. “We can start again tomorrow and together,” she added, making sure I understood that I wouldn’t be alone. “Together we’ll find a way to meet with the seer. I promise you that I won’t rest until I can help you. Both Knox and I stand with you.”

  It was her humbled compassion that broke through the bitter fog I’d cloaked myself with, and I finally relaxed. She’d somehow managed to reach deep inside and find the right words to calm me.

  “We’ll leave at dawn,” I grumbled.

  “And not a second later,” she promised, an enchanting smile tweaking the edges of her mouth.

  Knox huffed his disbelief, and he reclined in his own seat, arms crossed over his chest. It would seem his own pride had been pricked with my buckling under the words of Catriona, but he would have to get over it.

  With the decision made, and the tension in the carriage slowly dissipating, I closed my eyes, the rocking of the coach lulling me softly into a light sleep.

  Catriona’s scream filled the air, causing my heart to immediately sink with dread.

  The coach had come to a stop only moments ago, and as my eyes flew open, I saw that we were no longer traveling the dusty road alone. Assailants with faces darkened by shadow approached by horseback, their murderous shouts disturbing the peace we’d been enjoying.

  Despite my protests to continue on with the hopes of outrunning the attackers, we’d been brought to a halt.

  One look was all that was needed between Knox and me. We were no strangers to danger—of protecting ourselves from those with nefarious plans. There was no doubt in my mind that those rapidly surrounding our carriage weren’t merely asking for directions.

  A sense of foreboding settled over me and with a quick nod—paired with a knowing glance—to Knox, we both flew out of the carriage fully prepared to unleash our fury at being disturbed.

  The scent of blood on the air slapped me in the face, and it triggered my throbbing hunger. I didn’t always let the darkness that I kept heavily restrained deep inside me free. But the second I caught that familiar coppery scent, mingling with the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I launched myself at the closest assailant to me.

  He was no match for the strength I fired at him. As he lay bleeding on the ground, my fangs punched out from my gums, but there would be no time to feed.

  I assessed the situation.

  Knox was currently trying to hold off three attackers with clubs, his feet kicking out while one of the men struggled to hold him. Rage like I’d never seen from my friend radiated from him, and it was all because two other attackers were dragging a screaming Catriona away from the coach to where their horses stood, waiting.

  In the second it took to calculate a response, I ripped off my jacket so the tight item wouldn’t hinder my movements. With hands curled up into fists, I threw myself at those beating the hell out of Knox—my hands pounding against soft flesh over and over again.

  “Catriona!” Knox bellowed, surging toward her. “Marcus! They mean to take her.”

  Her kidnappers were almost to their horses when I abandoned helping him and leveled the full weight of my fury toward them. Horses whinnied and reared back as they sensed the beast inside me surge to the surface.

  Her look of relief was fleeting when one of the brutes manhandling her released her and came thundering at me—his knife extended, slashing through the air.

  “Release her!” I ordered, my voice loud above the ruckus. Its volume rivaled the thunder rumbling in the distance. “This will be your only warning.” I swung at the older man with straggly brown hair, mud used to obscure his features and darken his eyes. “You have no idea who you are dealing with.”

  My fingers grasped tightly on his arm, and I pulled hard, catching him off guard. With hands that now resembled claws, desperate to rip out his throat and gouge the eyes from his head, I let go of whatever humanity I’d managed to safeguard, and fully embraced the monstrous nature that had plagued me all these years.

  I didn’t hold back.

  I had no desire to restrain the demon.

  With a ferocity unlike anything I’d ever experienced, I slashed at the man, disarming him easily, but instead of using his knife against him, I bared my teeth—intent on ripping the flesh from his bones myself.

  Horror blazed in his eyes, and I reveled in it.

  He knew he was facing death. I would personally deliver him to the gates of Hell for ever thinking he could take from me what was mine.

  Blood sprayed everywhere as chunks of flesh fell to the ground.

  Weakened by the intensity of my counterattack, the man made the sign of the cross, offering a brief prayer to a God I knew would not be listening. As far as I was concerned, he had better chances of survival by petitioning for my mercy, not some invisible deity in the sky.

  But I was in no mood to dispense mercy.

  As Catriona continued to scream and fight for her freedom, I gave one last kick and slash at the man in front of me and stepped over him as he toppled to the ground—dead.

  In a cold, still voice that carried over the melee, I stooped down long enough to retrieve the knife and pointed it at the fool who held my wife.

  “Are you next?” I paced toward him, my steely gaze never leaving his stoic features. “Tell me, shall we bury you beside your dead companion?”

  I wiped at my face, my fingers coming back wet with blood. Without thinking, I licked at the ichor, receiving strength from the taste. My response was met with a look of disgust as Catriona’s sole kidnapper now grasped her tightly from behind, slowly backing up to his horse.

  “I am saving her from you,” he growled, spitting on the ground. “I know who—what you are.”

  “Marcus,” Catriona begged, desperately trying to break free so she could rush toward me. “They knew we would be traveling tonight. They were waiting.”

  I took the briefest of seconds to look at her—to really look at the woman who had first been such a hindrance, but had over time worked her way into my heart. I’d been a fool to deny that happiness didn’t have to be sacrificed in order to honor my vengeance. All these months, I could’ve savored our time together, instead of acting like the bastard I’d been.

  “I know,” she mouthed. That’s when it hit me—I may have held her at arm’s length, but Catriona had used her time more wisely. She’d quietly been studying the man she’d married, learning to read my body language so she could better understand me. And now—when what she needed was for me to be her hero—I realized that was exactly what I wanted.

  Revenge be damned.

  She was now the driving force behind my wanting to be a better man, even if that mean
t living with the curse for the rest of her days.

  “Catriona,” I roared, and with a strength I hadn’t felt since before the alleyway, I stalked toward her, ready to gut the man who restrained her.

  My focus zeroed in on him.

  All sound seemed to fade around us.

  My heart thudded loudly in my ears, my chest trying to adjust to the raggedness of my breathing.

  I was death.

  I was retribution.

  I was a man defending the woman he loved.

  “Marcus!” It was Knox who yelled now, from somewhere behind me. I didn’t turn, however, not willing to give the bastard holding Catriona a chance to gain the upper hand. If he reached his horse, he could whisk her away in a heartbeat—each stride taking her farther and farther away.

  “I will gut your bitch,” the man hissed as he pressed the knife’s blade into her stomach. “Like the filthy swine she is.”

  “Marcus!” she screamed again, her eyes wide as saucers, and with what little energy she had left, Catriona raised her hand, pointing to something behind me.

  I didn’t think. Later, I would relive this precise moment over and over—my failings repeating in different ways as I agonized over what happened next. Instead, I turned about to see what had caught her attention.

  Everything slowed.

  Knox was racing toward us, a wild desperation radiating from his features.

  In front of him by a few strides came a bulky mammoth of a man with his fist cocked back, aimed at my head.

  It was all the distraction they needed.

  The giant collided with me, knocking us both to the ground. Knox reached shortly after, and began pulling to get me free.

  “Not me, you fool!” I exclaimed. “Protect her!”

  But it was too late.

  I watched in absolute horror as Catriona was whisked up onto the horse’s back, and with a loud crack of the reins, disappeared into the dark surroundings with the gloating ruffian.

  A gurgled laughter broke the spell.

  “She wasn’t yours, shimulo.” His lips were curled up into a smug smirk. Blood streamed from the open cuts on his head, the scent dancing around me like a siren.

  “She is mine!” I thundered, cocking back my fist and striking him with every ounce of strength I possessed. “Where did you take her, gypsy?”

  His use of the word had told me exactly who our attackers had been.

  “To freedom.” He laughed again, and this time spat in my face. “Which is more than you gave my brother Nikolai.”

  Vengeance.

  Why did it always come back to it?

  “Marcus, we can still follow. Forget him. Let’s go.”

  For as long as I lived, I would never forget the expression the gypsy wore as I used his body to gain my balance and stand. It was a mix of ruthlessness and gloating satisfaction. In his mind, we would never reach them in time to stop whatever plans they had for Catriona.

  “Give my regards to the Devil,” I sneered, bending over one last time. “Make sure he knows that your clan will be joining you shortly.” And with one violent swipe of my clawed hand, I tore at his throat, exposing his jugular to the air. Blood gushed out, and within moments, he was dead.

  “Hurry,” Knox urged, having retrieved two horses that had somehow remained despite the melee.

  Swinging up into the saddle, I left everything behind and galloped into the darkness, uttering yet another promise I fully intended to honor.

  “If she dies, they all die.”

  Chapter 12

  The scent of blood and carnage hung in the air.

  Wiping my hands down the sides of my pant legs, I surveyed the damage Knox and I had delivered.

  The justice we had served.

  All around us, battered bodies lay where they had fallen—an entire gypsy clan wiped out. Nowhere did I feel an inkling of remorse. They’d brought this destruction down upon their own heads when they dared kidnap Catriona, attacking us as we traveled home.

  This was the price of the war we waged—both parties hoping to deal out vengeance.

  Nikolai had been one of their kinsfolk, and I’d made sure that his wife and child knew that he’d died quickly by my hand. Had the clan released Catriona into my care, I may have shown them some kind of benevolence and spared at least the children.

  But as Knox tore apart their camp site, rifling through caravans and tents, there was no hint that she’d even arrived. When she didn’t respond to our calls—no sign of the beautiful woman who’d changed my entire world for the better—a cold seething began building inside me where all I could see was red.

  Knox knew better than to warn me against unleashing the storm that still boiled within my veins. When I had the leader down on his knees—begging for the lives of his family—there was no room for negotiating. Tears fell from his eyes as I vowed to wipe out his lineage before slitting his throat.

  I had rained down death with no qualms or hesitancy.

  One brave fool had stepped forward with the derisive taunt that Catriona would be defiled and murdered before I could ever hope to reach her. That this vile act was to repay the anguish I’d inflicted by killing their beloved Nikolai.

  Over and over, clan members tried bargaining for the lives of others—offering hollow promises that they could somehow produce Catriona, whole and unharmed.

  But I saw their words as the lies they were.

  From my experience, twisted as it may be, gypsies were a ruthless, amoral group of people that deserved the wrath I was about to rain down on them.

  And I had.

  Side by side with Knox, we had systematically erased the entire group from existence, tossing their soulless bodies to the side as we made sure there were no survivors.

  “She isn’t here,” Knox cried, his voice thick with emotion. He had loved her too—he was her protector from me when I had failed to see her for what she was.

  A treasure to be cherished.

  A woman who had somehow managed to tame the beast.

  “Then we will hunt her kidnappers to the ends of the earth until we find her.” I lashed out to the pot of food hanging over the fire someone had lit. The fragrant stew splashed across the ground, flecks of gravy splattering the lifeless body of the woman responsible for it. “They will all pay for this!”

  I stood there, shaking my fists at the sky, and all the bitterness I’d felt over the past decade came flooding back until all I could feel was the vampire nature I’d been cursed with.

  Marcus the man had been obliterated, and I didn’t mourn the death of him.

  I’d lowered my guard, allowing the light to touch those parts of me, and for what? So someone could come crashing in and steal what was most precious to me—again.

  Knox’s hand fell hard on my shoulder, his fingers squeezing in an attempt to comfort. I shrugged him away. There would be no more solace or peace.

  “She was mine to protect,” I uttered, slowly regaining my breath. Adrenaline still coursed through my veins, and the bloodlust still stoked my anger. “She was mine, and they took her.”

  “We can still catch them,” Knox stated, convinced the odds were still in our favor. He was covered in blood, and judging from the red patch at his side, he was also injured. When I pushed my fingers against the material, he winced.

  There was no hiding it.

  “You’re in no condition to ride. I will go. You’ll only slow me down.” My foot caught on something, and I looked down to find my boot had snagged a small doll made from rough material—the toy still in the tight grasp of a child.

  I couldn’t think about the ramifications, of the people I’d made victims by my rage tonight. Any chink in the armor I now wore would weaken my resolve. Right now, I had one mission . . . one focus. Catriona was still out there, and by all that was holy, I would be her knight in shining armor.

  “You need me,” Knox gasped, pain hitting him again, and his stance faltered, his knees threatening to give out under him. “Just
get me on my horse.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t wait for you, Phineas. Every second we waste here is another second they have her.”

  He tried to stop me from walking away, but his own blood loss made him drop to his knees finally. Frustrated that he was now useless, Knox pounded his fist on the ground. A flurry of words coated with resentment and outrage burst from his lips. He was angry—justifiably.

  “I will bring back her kidnapper. He will be yours to administer justice to. You have my word.” I extended my arm quickly, clasping his in a warrior-like handshake, slowly pulling him to his feet. “Ride for home. Seek medical help at the next town.” Consumed with a sudden feeling of family, I grabbed him at the back of the head, pressing our foreheads together. “Live for me, my brother. Live for her.”

  “Go,” he ushered, waving me on. “Go with God.”

  As I swung my leg up and over my new ride, I let out a cynical laugh. “I don’t know about God, but I would be grateful for any kind of divine assistance tonight.”

  With one last look as my horse turned in a circle impatiently, I kicked in my heels and spurred the beast onward.

  My new enemy had a head start, but I had one thing aiding me that he’d underestimated.

  I would never rest until I found her.

  I would never rest until I held her safely in my arms.

  Chapter 13

  One Week Later

  My heart hurt.

  As in it physically hurt me to arrive home empty-handed.

  Despite my most valiant efforts, the one who’d taken my Catriona had disappeared like a thief in the night, and all my attempts at tracking him had failed.

  I’d been so cocky and sure that I would find them. Each hour that passed fueled the fantasies I created, where I punished the fool for his audacity in stealing her. She truly was an innocent in all of this—and they’d chosen their target well when he’d taken off with her.

  Kill me, and it would end this pitiful existence I endured.