Broken (The Captive #5.5)(67)
The vampire bodies had to be destroyed too as there were more than a dozen vampires with their fangs extended while in death. There were only ten bodies left when he uncovered Marie amongst the deceased. He barely gave her a second thought before tossing her body onto the growing pyre.
Gathering pieces of flaming wood, he spread the fires even more to encompass the blood soaked ground and woods. Tossing the last piece of wood aside, he returned to Genny and lifted her within his arms again. He didn't look back as he disappeared into the forest with her.
***
Reaching the edge of the cleared property surrounding the manor, he placed Genny's body in the shadows of the trees. His hands lingered upon her but he forced himself to tear them away. Stepping out of the shadows of the trees, he walked briskly across the clearing and around to the back. He didn't hesitate before flinging the back door of the manor open.
"Milord!" A human servant blurted when he entered. The color drained from the man's face as his gaze ran over Atticus's blood soaked form. Every inch of him was covered with blood but instead of being repulsed by it, he found himself relishing in the death that covered him. The madness growing within him hungered for more and more blood; it would never be satisfied. He was well aware that his eyes were burning red also, something that these servants had never seen before, at least not from him. "Mi… milord are you injured?" the man inquired tremulously.
The servant took a step away from him but before he could flee, Atticus grabbed hold of him and twisted his head so hard that his head nearly came off his shoulders. He dropped the man on the floor and turned toward the servant's corridor of the manor. What was going to happen between him and his father was something he intended to be between them only. There was no way he was ever going to allow anyone to interfere in what he planned.
He dispatched of the ten human servants before finding two of his father's Champon guards within the main hall. Neither of them even saw him coming before he ripped the heart out of one and drove his fangs into the neck of the other. He barely tasted the vampire's blood but he felt the strength of it infusing him with the power of the guard's lineage. Releasing the man, he dropped him unceremoniously to the floor and stepped over his unmoving figure.
At the top of the stairs, he encountered another of his father's guardsmen. This one gave him one look and decided he wanted nothing to do with him as he took a couple of steps back and attempted to flee. Atticus caught him before he had made it three steps down the hall and slammed his fist through the man's back. The man thrashed in his grasp; gurgling sounds escaped him as Atticus wrapped his hand around the man's heart and tore it out. He crushed it within his hand before dropping it on the floor.
A small moment of clarity returned to him when he turned his hand over before him. The blood dripped from it and onto the ground with a soft plop. It was almost impossible to believe that the hand was his but as he fisted it before him and lifted his head to focus on the door of his father's solar, he knew that it was his and it had more to do. Walking down the hall, he grabbed hold of the handle and flung the door open.
His father spun from where he stood by the window. "Who dares to enter without…" his voice trailed off, he took an abrupt step back when Atticus stepped into the room. His father gawked at him as his gaze raked over him. "Atticus, what happened to you? What have you done?"
"What have I done?" he grated from between his teeth. "What did you do?"
His father took another step back as Atticus stepped further into the room. "I did what had to be done," he replied.
Atticus hadn't expected him to deny it, but red filled his vision and bloodlust burst hotly through him when his father admitted his role in Genny's death with such a nonchalant tone. Genny was dead because of this man, he might as well be dead too, and his father was staring at him as if it was all perfectly acceptable. The man was so dense, so sure of his power and ability that he had no idea what was standing across from him right now.
But he was about to.
Grabbing hold of one of the chairs, Atticus lifted it above his head and heaved it at the wall when his father made a move to get back toward the table. A cruel smile twisted his lips when his father jumped and took a step away from the debris that shattered outward. Atticus enjoyed the apprehension radiating from him, enjoyed playing with him, and making him squirm. He was going to enjoy it even more when he ripped the man's throat out though.
"Who do you think you are?" his father demanded.
"I'm the one that's going to kill you," Atticus replied flatly.
His father laughed and wiped the bits of debris away from his tunic. "I've more fear of a grasshopper."
His father went to move again but Atticus rested his hands on the sides of the table and shoved forward with all of his might. The three hundred pound wood table slid effortlessly across the room and pinned his father against the wall. "Bloody hell!" his father blurted.
Red eyes met Atticus's but when his father went to push the table away Atticus leapt forward and smashed his hands against the sides to keep it pinned against him. "I don't think a grasshopper can do that," he growled.
His father's nostrils flared, he rested both hands against the table and tried to shove it away. The muscles in Atticus's forearms and biceps bulged against the pressure being placed on them. His teeth clenched together but drawing on the wrath that filled him, the mass quantities of blood he'd consumed tonight, the extra power that Genny's blood had given to him, and his powerful lineage, he was able to keep the table pinned against his father.