Vengeance (The Captive #6)(55)
“You can’t go out there alone,” she protested.
“I’m just going to look around, I’ll be fine,” he assured her.
Bending, he kissed her full mouth before straightening away from her. Pulling his bow from his back, he nocked an arrow against it and carefully approached the entrance to the cave. Turning sideways, he cautiously slid in between the rocks, careful not to touch anything and accidentally alert someone to his presence.
He stopped before stepping outside; he leaned his head against the wall as he strained to hear anything over the howling wind. Silently, he counted to sixty while he listened for a footstep or voices before poking his head out. He saw and heard nothing, but he wasn’t about to call Tempest out before he made sure. Glancing behind him and then ahead again, he stepped out of the cave and walked up the hill.
CHAPTER 19
When William disappeared from view, Tempest stepped away from the wall and followed him toward the mouth of the cave. She didn’t make a sound as she moved toward the exit. Sticking her head out, she blinked away the blowing snow sticking to her lashes.
She spotted William up ahead; searching to make sure no one was around. The wind blew over her hood, causing it to flap against her ears. She pushed it back in order to hear better. Glancing down the hill, she narrowed her eyes against the snow before stepping out.
William glanced back, his jaw clenched when he spotted her, but he continued onward with his bow and arrow at the ready. He took a few more steps before lowering his bow and sliding the arrow back into his quiver. He slipped the bow over his back and turned toward her again. Resting his hand against the wall, he stared down the hill at her before waving his hand in a gesture meant to tell her to get back in the cave.
Tempest frowned at him before shaking her head no. She refused to return to the cave, especially when she couldn’t understand why he wanted her to. Before she knew what was happening, he took four rapid steps forward, reached into a crevice and jerked someone from inside the slot she knew only went four feet into the mountain.
Tempest gawked at him as he unleashed a series of punches upon the figure in the white cloak. The crack of bone was so distinct she heard it above the wind, but she didn’t know what had broken, the vampire’s cheekbone, nose or jaw. Maybe all three crumpled beneath the forceful blows William continued to unleash with ruthless savagery.
Her hand flew to her mouth; her stomach twisted as his eyes shone with red fire. Before she knew what he intended, William grabbed hold of the cloak and spun the man around. He tore the cloth from him in one violent jerk. The man teetered on the edge of the walkway, his arms spinning as he fought to maintain his balance.
In a move so fast she barely registered it, William reached into his own cloak, pulled out a stake and drove it into the man’s chest. The startled cry the man released was caught up and whipped away by the wind. Lifting his leg, William leaned against the rock wall and shoved his foot into the man’s stomach. Tempest caught a glimpse of the vampire’s bulging eyes and wide-open mouth before he flipped over and tumbled out of sight.
She stood, staring at the lake as the body splashed into it. So focused on the ripples flowing across the normally pristine surface, she didn’t hear William approach until he stood beside her. “Put this on,” he instructed.
Tempest turned and focused on him. She blinked at the cloak he held out toward her. She was happy her hand didn’t shake when she took it from him. His hands were steady when he unclasped the brooch of her cloak. She forced herself not to grab hold of his hand to examine the blood staining the backs of his knuckles, or the bruises and cuts marring his skin. She didn’t think he’d appreciate her concern right now. He wasn’t in the mood to be babied; he was in the mood to do what had to be done.
He’s a fighter, she reminded herself. A warrior who has waged many battles over the years. This was what he’d been born into and trained to do his entire life. He was lethal, she’d already known that, but the brutality of what had just occurred still had her rattled.
Tugging the cloak from her shoulders, he wadded it up and threw it over the side of the mountain into the lake below. The cool breeze blowing over her slipped through her clothes and froze her already numb skin. He fitted the white cloak over her and pinned it against her throat. With a tenderness she hadn’t expected after what had just unfolded, he tugged the hood over her head and tucked her hair into it.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered.
“Not mine,” he muttered before wiping the blood off in the snow at their feet.
Tempest swallowed at his response, when he rose over her again his face had softened, and she saw the hesitation in his gaze. He was afraid she would reject him; instead, she took hold of his hand. She ran her hand over the back of his already healed knuckles before pressing them against her cheek.
“Did you know he was there the whole time?” she asked.
“Not the whole time,” he replied. “Tempest, what you saw…”
“I understand,” she assured him. “It’s not something I’m used to, but I understand. Things are going to get worse, aren’t they?”
“Most likely,” he replied honestly.
Tempest huddled deeper into the thick white cloak. It was of far better quality than the one Pallas had pieced together. “We have to get you one.”