Vengeance (The Captive #6)(25)
CHAPTER 9
“And where do you think you’re going?” the gravelly voice rumbled at her from the shadows.
Tempest glanced down at her makeshift white cloak, would it be enough to keep her identity hidden? Could she pull off trying to convince him she was one of them? She tried to steady her hands as she met the unrelenting brown eyes across from her.
“Checking the perimeter,” she replied far more casually than she felt. She’d heard Kane say something about the perimeter once to the two other vampires staying in the orphanage. The word sounded strange and ridiculous coming out of her mouth, but maybe he would believe her.
The man’s gaze slid over her. He’s not buying it, she realized as a smirk curved his full mouth. “Are you now?”
The ice encasing her had nothing to do with the cool wind whipping down from the mountains and blowing over her skin. The lecherous glint in his eyes made her skin crawl. She realized too late there were other ways she could be made to pay for what she’d done here tonight, besides being locked in the stocks and burned alive.
Her hands tightened on the torch as he started to come toward her. “I don’t recall seeing you around before.”
“I’m a new recruit, from the town,” she replied. She was young, but she was fast, and she knew these mountains far better than this man did. If she could get away from him, she stood a good chance of losing him in the caves. “I haven’t met a lot of the others yet.”
His gaze focused on her white cloak as he took another step closer to her. She didn’t know if he could tell it wasn’t the same quality as his or not yet, but if he got any closer he would definitely be able to. “It surprises me they would send you out here already.”
He wasn’t surprised by it; he knew she was lying. Tempest kept her gaze locked on his as he came closer. There was a cave ten feet behind her she could slip into; it led higher into the mountain and came out on a ledge only a couple of inches wide. She’d never traversed the narrow ledge before and didn’t want tonight to be the first time she tried; she’d most likely fail and end up falling again. That would spell certain doom.
No, there would be no turning back. She had to stay and fight; it was the only way she would survive this night.
The man continued to approach her but he didn’t bother to look at her cloak again. She adjusted her hold on the torch, waiting for him to get closer to her. She’d only have one shot at this with him. His cruel smile revealed his crooked teeth. Yep, she’d like nothing more than to bash every one of those ugly teeth down his throat. She didn’t think about what he would do to her if he got his hands on her. The idea of it made her stomach turn and her hands shake. She had to keep her wits about her.
“Aren’t you a pretty little thing,” he murmured. Bile surged up her throat; now that he was closer the pungent aroma of his body odor wafted over her. No way, there was no way she was going to let this man get his hands on her. “Very pretty.”
The only fight she’d ever been in was with another child from the orphanage. They’d both been ten years old and gotten into a tiff over a wooden block. It had been one of their few toys. The boy had punched her in the face and given her a bloody lip; she’d broken his nose. Neither of them had really won the battle as the block they’d fought over had been taken away and thrown in the trash. She’d never fought anyone again; she hadn’t enjoyed it, and she’d learned no one really won in the end. There would be a winner here though, and she intended it to be her.
He was only a foot away from her, when she lifted the torch and swung it at him with the full force of her might. An enraged shout escaped her; her arms reverberated from the blow as the thick wood smashed against his shoulder, knocking him to the side. He had to have seen the torch in her hands, but he must not have been expecting her to attack, as he was slow to react to her.
His hands came up after the torch smashed off him. “Bitch!” he snarled.
Tempest leapt forward. She couldn’t lay off him; she had to keep on the offensive while he was still thrown off by her attack. Lowering her shoulder, she rammed it into his ribcage, pushing him toward the side. This time the shout that escaped him was one of pure panic as he was knocked off balance by her shove. His arms pin wheeled, his eyes bugged out of his head as he scrambled to maintain his balance on the slippery pathway, but gravity hated to be denied.
His hands scrambled at her arms, tearing at the cloak. She barely heard the fabric rip over the howling wind and the man’s frightened cries. Blood spilled from the scratches he tore across her flesh and spilled onto the snow beneath their feet. Sympathy and guilt battered at her as she fought, but she couldn’t back down. He’d kill her if she did.
Throwing herself backward, she lifted her foot and slammed it into his stomach. The final, brutal thrust was enough to knock his grip on her arms free. His arms spun faster as he teetered precariously on the edge of the pathway. Finally, after what had seemed like an hour but was only seconds, he tumbled from view. He spiraled away like the fresh snow beginning to drift over her. The last of his screams were torn away by the whipping wind and unforgiving mountains below.
Tempest stood, shaking as she tried to calm herself and ease the adrenaline kicking through her body like a runaway, bucking horse. She took a cautious step toward the edge of the ledge and peered over. Two hundred feet below her, sprawled on the rocks, lay the man she’d shoved over the side. The red of his blood was vibrant and ghastly against the pristine snow surrounding him. She didn’t know if he was still alive, he most likely was, but she wasn’t going to climb down there and find out.