Vengeance (The Captive #6)(88)

Before she could get the brooch to let go, he lifted her within his arms. His powerful grip crushed her ribcage as he squeezed her. Tempest kicked her feet, trying desperately to connect with some vulnerable part of his body. Swinging her head back, a bellow escaped her when he managed to dodge a blow that would have shattered his nose.

With a sound of disgust, he threw her away from him and onto the floor. Tempest’s fingers scrabbled over the rocks, trying to find some purchase as he grabbed hold of her feet and pulled her toward him. With a brutal jerk, he flipped her over. Her head cracked off the rocks; her vision blurred and pain exploded in her skull.

She fought to stay conscious as he grabbed hold of her wrists with one of his hands and bashed them into the floor with enough force to break a knuckle in her right hand. She tried to buck him off, but his weight upon her was too much, his grip on her stronger than iron.

“No!” she screamed at him, squirming within his grasp as he leered down at her.

His lips skimmed back to reveal his fangs. “I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw you,” he murmured as he ran his fingers over the front of her shirt.

Bile filled her mouth; she gulped it back as she renewed her battle to get away from this monster. The slapping of feet bounced off the cave walls. His head lifted as Moira and Abbott rushed out of the shadows toward them. Moira swung her spear out, but Kane grabbed hold of it with his free hand and jerked it from her grasp.

Lifting the spear, he released Tempest’s wrists to swing the weapon at Moira. It cracked against her back, knocking her to the floor. He swung it at Abbott next. Abbott tried to jump out of the way, but he couldn’t avoid his legs being knocked out from under him. His head hit the rock with a solid thwack that made Tempest cringe. He lay, unmoving on the ground.

Tempest sat up, her fingers hooked into claws as she dove at Kane. She dug her nails into his cheeks, raking away strips of skin from his face. She’d been aiming for his eyes but he’d moved at the last second, making her miss the mark. This time he didn’t slap her, but drove his fist into her face so forcefully that her nose shattered from the blow, and she swore she felt a jagged line run through her broken cheekbone. Her head shot back, blackness swirled up around her, looking to embrace her within its endless depths.

The world vanished as she fell back against the floor. She had no idea how long she’d passed out, but when she came to, cold air brushed over the flesh of her chest. A moan escaped her; her head pounded as if a woodpecker had gotten inside and mistaken it for a tree. It took all she had to concentrate on her surroundings. Finally able to keep her eyes open, she turned her head to find Kane still sitting on top of her. She blinked at him, trying to clear the hazy fog of her vision but he blurred before her, becoming two and then three.

It wasn’t until his hand fell on her breast that she came back to life again. She slapped at his hands; strangled sounds escaped her blood-filled mouth as she beat at him. Lifting his hand to slap her again, Tempest braced herself for the blow. She couldn’t afford to lose consciousness again.

His hand was on the downward swing when a figure loomed over the top of him. It took her a minute to realize that the fiery red eyes, blood soaked face and clothes belonged to William. A snarl escaped him as he lifted the spear he’d ripped free from his chest and drove it through Kane’s back.

Kane arched forward on top of her. His eyes rolled back in his head; his fingers scrabbled at the broken end of the spear piercing his heart. Gurgled sounds of distress poured from his mouth along with his blood.

Bending low, William rested his mouth near Kane’s ear. “Remember that moment I told you about in the prison. This is it. I’ve never missed a heart before; I missed yours on purpose last time, you prick.” With that, he twisted the spear, turning it within Kane’s chest before grabbing his shoulder and shoving his limp body off her.

The red bled from William’s eyes, leaving them their exquisite blue again as he collapsed onto the ground before her. “Are you ok?” he demanded, grabbing hold of her hands and dragging her toward him.

She took hold of his cheeks, tears of relief and joy spilling down her face. “Yes, are you?”

He collapsed in her arms before he could answer her. “William!” she shrieked grabbing at him and rolling him over.

His eyes were closed, his mouth parted. Her hands scrambled over his blood soaked clothes as she tried desperately to wake him again. Alive, she knew it, but so badly beaten and bruised he may not stay that way. The gaping wound in his chest continued to bleed; his leg was twisted awkwardly, and now that she was closer, she could see the bone still piercing through his skin. He’d torn the other spear from his shoulder, but blood continued to flow from the hole that went all the way through him.

“How did he manage to climb up here?” Abbott muttered from above her. She lifted her head to look up at him. His nose was scrunched up as he rubbed at the back of his head.

“I don’t know,” she said. She couldn’t imagine the amount of agony he must have endured, or the determination it would have taken him to accomplish the climb, but her heart swelled with more love for him. “But he needs blood, and we have to get him out of here.”

She bit into her wrist and pressed it against William’s bloody lips. “Tempest!” Abbott hissed.

“It’s ok,” she whispered, brushing back strands of William’s hair from his bloody face. Even battered and broken, he was still the most magnificent man she’d ever seen. He reflexively swallowed when the blood pooled into the back of his throat. The taste of her blood and his own instincts caused his fangs to lengthen against her skin. A sigh of pleasure escaped her when he bit down. “Good,” she murmured, leaning over him to press a kiss against his forehead. “Take as much as you need.”