Enslaved by the Others (14 page)

Closing my eyes, I prayed for it to pass. A few breaths. A few heartbeats.

There was a sound outside my door. A scrape, like shoes scuffing on the marble floor.

My vision was still blurry but I forced myself to open my eyes and get to my feet. There was a bit of wobbling, but I managed to keep from falling over. Wiping moisture off my cheeks with the back of my hand, I blinked up at the skylight. A latch. One flimsy little latch was all that now stood between me and freedom.

I turned the knob, got up on tiptoe to push the window open. Despite the weight of snow, it lifted without much effort on my part. Cold seeped in, almost instantly chilling my fingers, followed by the scent of wood smoke and frozen earth.

A breath of freedom. It was sweet, but I needed to move fast. There was a wire alarm on the side of the window I hadn’t seen. Someone, somewhere, would know something was wrong. No matter how much it hurt, I had to get going.

The pain of pulling myself up on the slick, icy ledge was different. Biting, but clean, the natural burn of straining muscles in my arms. Nothing like the searing hurt on my hip.

The ice bit right through the corset, but it took a bit longer for the cold to seep through the leather pants. I was careful to lead with my right leg once I swung my body up. A quick roll, a flash of pain as I put weight on my branded hip, a muted thump from the window closing—and I was out. On the roof, alone and free.

I might have sat there panting and shivering for a minute or twenty while the knots of terror gripping my heart and lungs eased. The air was cold, but I savored the feel of unobstructed sunlight warming my cheek, sensing the glow through my closed eyelids. The taste of freedom and air not tainted by the musk of vampire and quiet desperation was sweet, but I needed to get the hell out of there before someone discovered I was gone.

Rising to my bare feet, I stood and surveyed my surroundings. Dark, heavy clouds spoke of an incoming storm, which would both hide my tracks and make my escape harder once it hit. From my vantage point on the roof, I thought this part of the house faced what might be the backyard. On three sides it stretched for acres. I didn’t see an entrance or a back gate, but I was pretty sure I could reach and climb the rough stone wall surrounding the property. If I could get on the ground and kept on the east side of the property, I would be out in the open for a good stretch, but my chances of getting out unseen would be better.

The snow was thick, so I took it slow, easing myself toward the edge. The cold bit into my toes like tiny needles worming under the skin, but there was no way I was going to risk slipping in heels on a patch of ice and breaking my ass or neck. Aside from the discomfort to my feet, I didn’t have much trouble shuffling down the slope of the roof, though I did have a brief bout of vertigo when I looked over the edge.

Three stories. I couldn’t jump that. Not without breaking something.

Good thing I had brought the sheet with me.

Chapter Twelve

A few minutes later, the balls of my feet and ankles stinging—not to mention the incredible pain in my hip from the crouched landing after the short fall from the end of the knotted sheet—I was on the ground.

I didn’t dare take any more time. The longer I waited, the greater the chance Max’s cronies on security detail would figure out I was gone and catch up to me.

Stumbling through the snow, I made a beeline for the wall surrounding the property. I needed speed, and the high heels would cut into that enormously, more than the limp caused by my aching hip already did. I could put on the boots once I was over the wall and safe on the other side.

“Hey! Get back here!”

No. No, no, no. I wasn’t stopping, not for one of Max’s people, not for anything.

Everything hurt, but I still ran, limping every step of the way. Snow crunching behind me made it clear I had one pursuer who was catching up quickly. I wasn’t going to stop, but I did slow down, breathing deeply, counting down the seconds as those heavy footsteps grew closer.

Just before fingers brushed my shoulder, I threw up my elbow, crying out at the shock traveling up my arm from contact. The guy crashed into my back, his momentum sending us both tumbling to the ground in a swirl of white.

He didn’t make a grab for me once we were down. Both of us lay on our backs, but he was choking around a damaged, if not crushed, windpipe. Lucky shot on my part. He wouldn’t be able to follow anytime soon.

It didn’t take me long to gasp some breath back into my lungs, but I did need a couple of minutes to regain my ability to see around the blinding pain radiating from my hip. The guy didn’t resist as I crawled over and rolled him out of his coat and took his gloves, his eyes bugging as he watched me shrug into the too-large garment.

After a moment’s reflection, I patted down his pockets and took his wallet and keys while I was at it.

It was a bit of a struggle getting back to my feet, but once I managed, I met his wide-eyed gaze. There was fear there. Fear of me, maybe. The taste of it on my tongue, sweet like syrup, sparked a sudden, fierce hunger. When I raised a hand to tug on a glove and saw the claws and spidery black veins, I could imagine why he was afraid—but I was still human enough to remember not to give him any more reason than that.

“You tell Max he’s going to pay. You tell him to let the others go or I’ll be back, and next time I’ll burn this place to the ground.”

Even as I said it, the words lisping around growing fangs, I knew it was true. He had Sara. Iana. Vivian. Na’man. All those other people. As soon as I found a safe place, a pay phone, a cell phone to borrow—anything—I would get in touch with Royce and get his help to end Max’s operation once and for all.

It still hurt to move, but I felt stronger, invigorated somehow. Like the violence was spurring some kind of survival instinct to heal and move at a greater pace. Whatever Other-ness was in my blood, it had some benefits aside from making me Hulk out with minimal provocation. I would have to be careful not to give in to the hunger cramping my stomach. Blood or flesh, either would do, but feeding that inner beast with something more tangible would send me down a path I didn’t want to explore.

Once I reached the wall, I looked back over my shoulder. The guy who had attacked me was still on the ground and more dark figures were coming toward me from the house. I didn’t hesitate, reaching for the lip of the wall well above my head. The jump was smoother than I expected, almost leading me to miss grabbing for the iron spikes set into the top. It was getting easier to ignore the cold and pain as I pulled myself up to the edge, toes curling against the ice.

Distant shouts followed me as I lowered myself over the other side and dropped into the drift of snow below.

And cursed as I landed on a rock or something. Ow, ow, ow.

At least I didn’t break anything. And I wasn’t bleeding. Yay, go me.

Hopping over to a nearby rock jutting above the snow, I brushed off the worst of it and sat down. Then I brushed as much snow off my feet as I could with one of the extra socks I’d stuffed in my pocket. That out of the way, with a groan, I pulled on the boots, wriggling my toes to settle them in the material I’d stuffed inside. My feet felt like blocks of solid ice, but hopefully the boots and socks would provide enough insulation for them to warm up before any damage was done.

Levering to my feet, I wobbled unsteadily on the heels. It was uncomfortable, and the ankle of the foot that had landed on the rock ached, but it was better than losing my toes to frostbite.

Glancing around, I looked for any sign of civilization. No roads were visible through the evergreens and skeletal bones of trees that had shed their leaves for winter. No man-made structures, either. There might have been something out there, but I didn’t want to risk stumbling around lost in the woods at this time of year. Max wouldn’t call for an official search party and anyone he sent to find me wouldn’t make the trip back pleasant. Assuming there would be a trip back.

Stepping carefully, I made my way a few yards from the wall, always keeping it in sight and on my right. If I followed the wall, eventually I would find a driveway, which would lead to a road, which would (presumably) lead to civilization. I’d have to take care not to trip on anything unseen under the blanket of white, and to keep moving, no matter how much everything hurt. My feet, my ankles, my hip—the pain reminded me I was alive. I was free, and I had a chance.

That was all that kept me going. I wanted to lie down. I wanted to curl up and cry in the snow. I wanted to go back, to make sure Sara was okay. I just wanted to rest, for someone else to take over, to fix everything I’d broken and make it all go away.

And if I gave in to that temptation, Max would win. All those people still trapped with him would continue to suffer—maybe more, if he was as angry with my escape as I imagined he was going to be when he heard the news. I’d hate to be the messenger on his security team for that little tidbit.

I had to reach Royce as soon as possible, and pray it was before Max got it into his head to hurt Sara.

The collar was tugged up to keep the wind from biting too deep against my face, and I hugged the jacket tight to myself as I got moving. I kept checking back the way I had come and listening for any sounds of pursuit as I hobbled along. It was only a matter of time before the other guards came looking for my trail.

Every sound made me jump. Crunching ice. The muted thump of piles of snow falling from tree limbs. Snapping branches. Even telling myself that I had more strength than Max’s human minions and that I knew enough self-defense to hurt them if they should find me didn’t help. The thought made me feel even colder than I already was. Psyching myself up was a fine art I had never perfected.

Even though I was watching and listening, hypersensitive to anything out of place, I almost walked right into one of the guards looking for me. His clothing blended in with the snow, all whites and grays, and he was leaning against a birch tree with pale, peeling bark. I froze, the guy only inches away, hood pulled low over his eyes and head ducked with a glove in his teeth as he tapped on a cell phone. That distracting piece of modern technology was the only reason he didn’t notice me.

Hands clapped over my mouth, I backed up, quick, silent, pain momentarily forgotten as I faded into the brush. Ducking behind a tree, I stayed there, pressed against the bark, trying not to hyperventilate or make a sound.

The strains of the James Bond theme started playing. I almost screamed, but managed to swallow back the urge once it sank in that it was just the guy’s cell phone.

“Yeah? ... What? No, haven’t seen any sign.” He quieted, but I couldn’t make out whatever the other person was saying. “. . . Yeah, give me a minute. I’ll be right there.”

He stomped off in the direction I’d come from, muttering under his breath. I made out “jackass,” but that was about it.

I needed to be much more careful. That was too close a call. I stayed where I was for another minute, listening, making sure he was gone and that no one else was coming. They’d pick up on my trail anytime now.

On the bright side, they appeared human. I didn’t think they had heightened senses, if cell phone guy was anything to go by. I didn’t hear any dogs, so most likely they didn’t have anything that could follow me by scent. Not until dark, when the vampires came out to play. If I could disguise my trail, maybe it would keep them from finding me.

I looked around, studying the trees. There was some kind of cedar not far from where I was standing. The short, stiff needles would make a decent broom to hide some of my tracks. I moved around the far side of it, opposite the wall, and broke off a small branch. The scent of the sap was sharp on the crisp air. Put me in mind of hamster shavings.

Brushing up my tracks turned out to be easier than expected with the way that guy had been moving through the snow. Sure, the depressions were still there, but my passage was far less noticeable when I swept away the signs. At one point when I backtracked I even found a place where cell phone bro had—I am pretty sure unknowingly—crossed over mine. A great and wily hunter, he was not. I made a few new tracks to make it look as if I had gone deeper into the woods before following his tracks the way he had originally come. Oh, and I held on to that cedar branch, just in case.

I did have to be careful. He had been moving closer to the wall than I intended to be, and despite my best efforts, I ended up dragging my bad leg a few times. Still, it made it easier not to trip on anything when I knew exactly where to step, and having a clear path to follow gave me the opportunity to move with more speed and certainty.

It took a lot longer than I expected to reach the recessed door in the wall where the guy had come out. On the bright side, there was a brick walkway leading up to that locked, wrought iron gate back into hell. A
swept
brick walkway that led straight to a winding, paved road only a few yards away. Hallelujah and praise be to whoever above was finally looking out for me.

Just before the urge to make a run for the road hit me, common sense reasserted itself. I stayed where I was for a moment, studying the path. If it looked too good to be true, it probably was.

I crouched down—bit off the screamed curse that thoughtless move almost spurred out of me—then peered at the upper slope of the archway above the gate after wiping away the tears of pain. As I suspected, there was a security camera angled to see the walkway and even the road. Probably to watch for anyone who might think to drop in unexpectedly. Knowing who was coming gave Max and his people a chance to hide the evildoing, hide the bodies, hide the human trafficking, et cetera, ad infinitum, ad nauseum. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a few dozen hidden closets or creepy basements to shove those skeletons into if the police should stop by, as I had already witnessed.

Even the thought of the last of his basements I’d visited was enough to bring up a sudden urge to vomit and a flare of unexpected heat on my hip. Shoving it to the back of my mind, I rose—much more carefully than I’d crouched—and faded back a few steps, sweeping up my tracks with the branch as I went. I knew where the road was now. Even if my everything hurt, I had a direction and a plan. Better than what I’d had an hour ago.