Broken (The Captive #5.5)(48)



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Atticus felt the blood boiling within him as the vampire he'd tossed across the room hit the wall with a thud. Before the man could even begin to scramble back to his feet Atticus sped across the room, wrapped his hand around his throat and lifted him off of his feet. The man's fingers tore at the back of Atticus's hand but he barely paid him any attention as he squeezed down more forcefully. Blood spilled out between Atticus's fingers and slid down his arm when his fingers pierced through the man's flesh.

He was standing on the edge of a treacherous precipice; he knew that. He'd never killed anyone before but his mind was filled with the image of Genny lying on the floor with blood running down her cheek, bruises marring the left side of her face and her left arm twisted at an awkward angle. There were rules to follow amongst their kind but he didn't care, this man had laid his hands on her, this man had been going to kill her.

A bellow tore from him as his fingers dug into the man's throat before he wrenched his hand backward. The man's mouth dropped, hideous noises escaped him as he clawed at the place where his throat and windpipe had been. With ruthless intent, Atticus bent down and tore the piece of wood from the man's thigh. The man wobbled and would have fallen if Atticus hadn't thrust his elbow into his chest to keep him pinned against the wall. He remorselessly held the man's gaze; a smile curved his lips as he drove the wood through the man's heart.

Atticus released him abruptly and turned away even as the man's feet continued to kick against the floor. Genny's glazed eyes landed on him. Where alcohol, blood, and even murder had failed to ease any of the coiling pressure within him, the sight of her did it immediately. Even bruised and battered she was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.

He rushed to her side and dropped onto his knees beside her. The scent of her blood on the air drove him. He bit into his wrist before pressing it against her mouth. Her mouth opened to the flow of his blood, he cradled her in his lap as he felt his blood seep in to strengthen her.

When his bite marks healed, he pulled his arm away to bite into his wrist again. "I've had enough," she whispered.

"Are you sure?" he asked and brushed the hair back from her swollen face.

She smiled up at him. "I dreamed of you," she muttered before passing out.

He pulled her closer against him, making sure to be careful with her badly damaged arm and battered body when he adjusted his hold on her. Merle and Camille appeared in the doorway when he was rising to his feet with her clasped tenderly against his chest. Merle's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared around the decimated room. Atticus barely paid any attention to the blood splattered room, the destroyed furniture, or the body lying by the door.

"Where can I put her?" he demanded of Camille.

She didn't seem to process his question immediately as she stood gaping at him. Finally she broke out of her shock and scurried over the debris. She thrust open a door to reveal the small room beyond. Though little illumination pierced the room, he could clearly see the straw pallet and two small trunks that took up all the space within. Something inside of his chest withered as he realized just what kind of conditions Genny had been living in. What kind of vampire she had been living with and yet she had still chosen to live here rather than wait in the shadows while he fulfilled his duties.

His gaze drifted down to her as she lay against his chest. She would have better from now on, he vowed. No matter what he had to do to make sure that happened.





CHAPTER 17


"Please tell me she'll pull through this." Camille shifted nervously from foot to foot before him as her gaze darted to the open door of the room where Genny lay.

Atticus glanced back at Genny's still form. He hated leaving her alone in there, but he had to help take care of this mess before he could be with her. He'd know the minute she awoke though and he had no intention of stepping foot outside of this hovel again without her. Merle had managed to prop what was left of the door over the open frame, and was staring at the body on the floor.

"Who is this?" Merle inquired and nudged the limp leg with the toe of his boot.

Atticus focused on Camille; she bit into her bottom lip as her gaze drifted to the unmoving man on the floor. "Marie's lover, Felix"

"And Marie is?"

"Our mother."

Merle rose and wiped his palms on his tunic. "And where is your mother?"

Camille shrugged and glanced at Atticus. "I don't know."

"What caused him to attack her?" Merle demanded.

Camille's eyes narrowed, fire flashed through them as she fixed Merle with an unyielding stare. "He's a monster, that's the only reason he ever attacked her," she replied. "Or he was."

Atticus rested his hand on her arm, drawing her attention to him. "This wasn't the first time he's done this?" he inquired sharply.

Camille opened her mouth before closing it and shaking her head. She frowned at him before speaking again. "You should talk with Genny."

A sick feeling twisted in his stomach, his gaze drifted to the man he had just murdered. Talking with Genny would only confirm that tonight hadn't been an isolated incident, he was certain of that fact. He found himself wishing the man were still alive, he would have made his death a lot slower and more painful, he would have savored in watching the life leave Felix's eyes.

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