A Gate of Night (A Shade of Vampire #6)(12)

I fought back all negative thoughts. I refused to sink into that kind of darkness. I needed to believe that Derek was okay. He was a survivor, the strongest man I had ever known. I wasn’t going to lose him—not even in my thoughts. Not ever.

Please be all right, Derek. I love you. You know I love you.

I was whispering the words out loud when a movement nearby jolted me to attention. I blinked several times, trying to adjust to the dimness. To my relief, the trace of moonlight streaming through a high window allowed me to make out a small figure nearby.

I creased my brows. “Hello?”

I was answered by shuffling and a quiet whimper.

A lump formed in my throat. Is she a child? What monsters hold us captive? I tried to keep my voice as soft and gentle as I could. “It’s all right, honey. I’m not going to hurt you.”

I barely heard her voice, hoarse and frightened. “I’m afraid.”

I nodded, though I doubted she could even see me. “I know, dear. I’m frightened too, but we need to be brave right now. We have to be brave if we want to make it out of here.”

“There’s no way out of here. The last one who tried to escape…” She choked on her own words.

I couldn’t imagine what kind of terrors the young girl had already gone through. I tried to steer the conversation away from the painful memories. “What’s your name?”

She said the words in a soft, hesitant tone, but the effect it had on me was so thunderous, it knocked the breath right out of me.

“I’m Abby. Abigail Hudson.”

I was so stunned, I wasn’t able to respond. I was overjoyed that she was alive. Ben’s little sister was practically a sister to me too, and the thought of seeing her after all these years in a place like this was tearing me apart.

“Abby?” I managed to squeak out. “It’s me. Sofia.”

A gasp and a sob cut through the tension and within seconds, soft arms wrapped around my neck, tears wetting the nook she buried her small face in. She held me so tight I could barely catch my breath. The way she clung to me said a lot about her relief, about what kind of things she’d been put through.

We stayed that way for a couple of moments before I pried her away from me. The questions running through my mind begged to be answered and I doubted we had a lot of time. I knelt on the ground and stood her in front of me. I reminded myself that Abby was barely seven years old and that she had probably been more traumatized than any child her age should have to be.

“Abby, I need you to answer a few questions for me, okay? I’m here now and I’m going to look out for you, but I need to know if…”

“They killed Daddy and Mommy. The red-eyed man and the scary woman with brown hair… they did it.” Abby was sobbing, but the words were clear enough, each one cutting me to the core.

I tried to search for words to comfort her, but all I could do was hold her in my arms, guilty over what part I might have played in the deaths of Lyle and Amelia Hudson, the couple who had raised me for nine years. On the other hand, I was also consumed by the hope that the love of my life had escaped a horrifying demise.

I held the little girl in my arms for what felt like an eternity before the wooden door swung open and a flood of light streamed through the room.

We really were in a dungeon—rusty shackles at the end of chains hooked on the stone walls, with hay on the ground. I blinked to adjust to the change of lighting. I gasped when a figure was pushed to the ground, causing a loud thud to echo across the room.

Abby shrieked at the sight. A man beaten, bruised and bloody lay on his stomach on the hard stone floor. One could barely decipher what was skin and what was flesh.

“Derek…” I managed to squeak out, reaching for him.

“Impressive. You recognized him.”

The red-eyed man leaned against the doorpost, his arms folded over his chest. Abby cowered behind me. I wasn’t going to give him the same satisfaction. Ignoring him, I set my focus on Derek, gently brushing my fingers over his damp hair. “Derek, baby, can you hear me? I love you… I love you. Please say something.”

“Sweet,” the vampire said. “It’s fascinating to see firsthand the kind of undying love you two are known for.”

My eyes shot up at him, forcing myself to look into those eyes. I tried to see a trace of compassion, of regret, and saw none. He seemed to be enjoying seeing us suffer. I held my gaze, channeling all my attention on him. “What made you like this?”

He smirked, but the expression in his eyes changed. Still, he said words meant to prove himself unswervingly cruel. “Pleasure, Sofia. I became a monster because I enjoy it, and believe me that I feel no regret in mangling your beloved. Not even a single ounce of it. Seeing the expression on your face when you lay eyes on him—how tortured you are—it’s fulfilling.”

I pried my eyes away from him. I was hoping Derek would heal. He always did, but I had to remind myself that he was no longer a vampire. He was as human as I was. Vulnerable. Mortal. So easily broken.

All because I wanted to be with him, build a life with him, cure him.

Sitting there, jolting in surprise when our captor slammed the cell door shut, I tried to remember why I’d ever thought finding a cure was a good thing.

How could we have fooled ourselves into believing that draining Derek of his power was the vampires’ true sanctuary?