Vengeance (The Captive #6)(16)

“Yes,” the man squeaked.

“Good.” William released his hair before rising to his full height. He straightened his loose fitting, green flax shirt, before grabbing his cloak and swinging it over his shoulders. The men at the table stared at him with frightened eyes. They glanced nervously at each other, before sliding their chairs away from the table. “Have a good night.”

William turned and strode away from the building. He should feel bad for what he’d done to the man, to a human. It went against everything he’d been as a human. He’d become the thing he’d once hated most, an overpowering, vicious vampire.

Two years ago, he would have gladly killed himself for what he’d just done. However, two years ago he’d only cared about taking back what had been ripped away from the humans years before he was born. He’d believed all vampires were evil, they were all on the wrong side, and his side had been the only good one, the only right one.

I was so na?ve and stupid. He gave a disgusted shake of his head.

The man he’d been two years ago never would have understood or condoned what he’d just done. The man he was now understood there was much more at work within this world; there was no clear right or wrong. There were many things he would become and do over the following years. Many lines he would cross he’d never believed he would, and he would gladly do it all if it meant accomplishing what he had to. No matter how badly he wanted vengeance though, he would never risk the peace they’d established since the war, and being arrested for what he’d just done could do that.

He’d intended to spend the night in this town, but it would be best to get out of here before those men regrouped and possibly reported him to some king’s men. The brother of the queen being arrested for threatening humans would be a gigantic set back he couldn’t unleash on the newfound, tenuous truce between humans and vampires.

A sliver of guilt pierced his gut, but it was drowned out by the excitement pulsating through him. This was the closest he’d come to Kane; the first real lead he’d uncovered. He couldn’t feel guilty when he was finally gaining on him.

Reclaiming his barely rested horse, he paid the stable boy for enough grain to last a couple of days. He didn’t plan to go far, only to the closest cave. Achilles could rest then, but he would need more food. He climbed into the saddle and nudged the horse out of the town at a trot.

***

William rode by the small white sign announcing, Chester pop. 604. He took in the serene streets as he progressed down the main street of the town. The log cabins lining the road were all quiet and dark, none of the curtains stirred. No one stepped outside to stare at or greet the new arrival.

His eyebrows drew together as he surveyed the pristine, snow-covered roads. No footprints or hoofmarks marred the snow. It looked as if no one had traveled through here since the last snowfall, but that made no sense, the residents would have at least walked outside at some point.

Uneasiness churned in his gut when he pulled up in front of the stable. He tied Achilles to the post outside the building when no one came out to take the animal from him. He stood and stared, uncertain of what to make of this place. Perhaps everyone in town was like Hannah and Lucas and couldn’t be out in the daytime. However, he doubted an entire town would be afflicted with such a condition, and unless there had been fresh snow this morning, there still would have been footprints somewhere.

He glanced at Achilles, the horse stared back at him, seemingly asking the same questions rolling through him. Where was everyone and if they weren’t here then what had happened to them?

He pulled his bow from his back and an arrow from his quiver. Nocking the arrow against the bow, he climbed the steps to the tavern and pushed the bottom of the door open an inch with the toe of his boot. He turned his head and strained his ears, but he heard no movement within. The smell of cooking human food didn’t tickle his nose; he didn’t detect the more metallic odor of blood either. He glanced back at Achilles before thrusting the door the rest of the way open.

Standing in the doorway, he stared into the shadows of the empty tavern. The three overturned chairs in the middle of the room were the only sign anyone had ever been here. Cobwebs, dangling from the wooden beams above him, fluttered in the breeze flowing through the door behind him. He pushed aside a web tickling against his cheek.

Stepping forward, his boots kicked up dust that swirled around him. The small particles of it danced in the light filtering through the windows. With his eyes, ears and nose, he probed the building, but he didn’t detect any heartbeats or smell anything alive within it as he continued onward.

He made his way to the back of the tavern and through the empty, small kitchen before walking out to the porch. He lowered his bow as he surveyed what he could only call a ghost town. Tucked into the mountains, it was remote, but not so remote that all of the residents would have fled before the winter set in. The humans and vampires who had lived here knew how to survive the icy temperatures and snow. They would have been prepared for it, and they wouldn’t have willingly left their homes behind.

Or perhaps, they were still here, somewhere.

He turned and strode back through the tavern. Stepping outside the front door, he stared at the silent town. He jogged down the stairs and across the snow-covered road to the buildings on the other side of the street. He peered in the windows but didn’t bother to go inside anywhere until he came to the log cabins on the next road. The lack of signs hanging from the porches, or painted on the windows, led him to believe he’d reached the residential area of town.