Soul Catcher (12 page)

“No,” a familiar voice said from the darkness. Accacia flinched at the sound of the intruder; she recognized it immediately. “I will.”

Both men unsheathed their weapons. The guildsmen were so quick that Accacia didn’t even witness their movements, but Aleco was faster. He sliced his serrated blade down the center of the man’s hard skull, almost severing it in half, and kicked his bleeding corpse aside. His bloody sword flung droplets as he turned to the other guildsman. The man recognized him. “Aleco, what are you
doing
?”

“Some early spring cleaning.” Aleco stabbed him through the chest. The man hunched over and covered the wound with his palm, trying to breathe with his remaining lung. Aleco pitied the man. “I can’t just let you suffer,” he said. Aleco decapitated him with his black blade. The pair watched his head drop to the floor. “You’re welcome.”

Accacia covered her face with her palms, disgusted by the sight. Aleco’s face was hidden within his black hood once again, and Accacia wondered how the other guild members recognized him. Aleco looked at Accacia. “Are you insane?” he asked her incredulously. “Why would you light a
fire
in the middle of their territory? Of course they are going to see you.”

“I wanted to be seen,” she said as she wiped her tears away and brushed the dirt from her clothes. She felt the drops of blood on her neck but she ignored them. Accacia was still overwhelmed by the episode; she had almost been raped, again. She was tired of it.

“What?” Aleco asked. “Why would you
want
to be found?” He spotted the blood trickling down her throat and panicked at the sight. “Damn,” he said as he wiped the blood away. “Accacia, are you alright?”

“Yes.” She pushed his hand away and cleaned the wound with her sleeve. Aleco pulled a handkerchief from his pack and pressed it against her bleeding neck, supporting the back of her head with his gloved hand. “Keep the pressure on,” he said, his
voice full of concern. He held the cloth in place. “Accacia, you should sit down.”

She swatted his hand away again. “I’m okay,” she said. She was more concerned about the guild investigating the bloody campsite. They wouldn’t be pleased with Aleco’s handiwork. “We need to move. The others will arrive soon.”

Aleco knew she was right. He was so distressed about her safety he hadn’t thought of his own. Accacia walked away. Aleco rescued her from a fate worse than death, so she should be happy to see him, but she wasn’t. She just wanted to get away from him.

“Accacia, I’m glad you are well,” he said. “I was worried about you.”

She ignored him. Sometimes he was an asshole, and sometimes he wasn’t. She wished he would just pick a side and stay there. Accacia wasn’t going to bother handing herself over to the guild anymore. Now that Aleco was there, she was certain he would never allow it.

“Why did you want to be found?” he asked. Aleco could think of only one explanation, but it wasn’t plausible. She must have stumbled into the wilderness, confused and lost on her path back to the forest. Accacia must have been ignorant of the location of the hideaway. He can’t imagine why else she would travel here.

“Because of your memory,” she said. “If you didn’t return me, which I knew you had no intention of doing, they were going to kill you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

His eyes widened at her words. “So you were willing to give yourself to that ruthless barbarian just so I could continue my pathetic existence living in secret?”

“Yes.”

“Accacia—I never would have wanted you to do that.”

“I know,” she said. “You’ve saved my life countless times—I wanted to return the favor.” She meant her words. Even though he had hurt her and abused her, turning into the man she hated more than anything, she couldn’t deny what he had done for her. Aleco was just as much of a victim as she was. He deserved to be free.

Aleco was speechless. She would voluntarily return herself to the duke, who had tormented her so deeply that she turned to suicide, just to spare his feeble life. He couldn’t fathom the unbelievable sacrifice she attempted to make for him. Even after the appalling way he had mistreated her, she still tried to protect him. He had been rude to her since the moment they met, with vulgar comments and hateful insults; he couldn’t understand her unwavering loyalty to him. Aleco thought about their last encounter and his unacceptable behavior. She begged for his forgiveness but his fury only increased at her pleas. He regretted the vicious comments he said to her, and the painful way he grabbed her arms. Aleco was disgusted with himself. He touched her on the forearm. “Accacia—”

She jerked her arm from his grasp. She stopped and stared at him, her green eyes flashing in anger. He knew she was furious with him by that look alone. Aleco completely understood, but he hoped it had dimmed after he saved her. He also wished that it would disappear altogether. She obviously cared for him; she wouldn’t have sacrificed herself if she didn’t. “Don’t touch me.” The fire in her eyes dwindled when he retracted his arm. “I never want your hands on me, Aleco,” she said. “Don’t touch me again.”

Aleco blocked her way by positioning his body in her path, though he didn’t touch her. “Accacia, I am
truly
sorry for what I did to you,” he apologized, his voice full of remorse. “I regret everything. Please, Accacia,” he begged. “I’m sorry.” She walked around him. He obstructed her path again and stopped her. He pulled down the hood of his cloak and locked his fierce gaze on her, reminding her that he had revealed his true identity to her because he trusted her. “I mean it, Accacia,” he said. “I never apologize to anyone for my irrational behavior, but I am apologizing to
you
—because I mean it. Please, Accacia,” he said. “I promise I will never hurt you again. You have my word.”

“Where have I heard that before?” She traversed around
him and moved forward. “Your promises mean nothing to me, Aleco,” she said. “They mean less than nothing.”

Her painful words stung him. He didn’t blame her for feeling that way. He ruined their trusting relationship because he couldn’t control his temper, and he hated himself for it. Accacia still made the effort to protect him, even after he bruised her, so he knew she still cared for him. That gave him hope. Aleco strode beside her. “Please give me another chance,” he said. “I’m a different man than I was then, Accacia.”

“From a few hours ago?” she asked.

“Yes, I am,” he
said. “Accacia, listen to me—”

“Drop it, Aleco.” She silenced him. “I have nothing more to say to you. Let’s move.”

Aleco bit his tongue; he knew his attempt was futile. He would try again later. Aleco couldn’t fathom her selfless actions. Never in his life had he met someone who would do anything for him—other than his parents. After the terrible way he treated her and the venomous anger he spat at her, she still cared for him unconditionally, and made the ultimate sacrifice to protect him. It was a type of love that Aleco had forgotten about. He would do anything to regain her trust, but was clueless how to win it back. After everything she had been through, he doubted she could find the will to forgive him. He meant his earlier words; he was a different man. Aleco would risk everything to protect her—even his own life. Now, he just had to prove it to her.

She walked past him, but Aleco remained rooted to his spot, hands on his hips, as he gazed at the brambles of twigs on the forest floor. Aleco heard the snap of a branch from behind him. He withdrew his blade from his scabbard.

The forest was silent, too silent, in fact. Aleco knew he was being watched and waited for the oncoming attack. Accacia advanced through the forest, completely unaware of the situation. Aleco was thankful for her ignorance. He didn’t know what he was up against.

He heard the launch of an arrow and intercepted it with his blade, severing it in half. Five guildsmen stepped out of the
darkness, armored with strung bows and gleaming swords. Pons stood in the lead along with three other swordsmen. He spun his dagger between his fingertips, just as before, but his earlier friendliness had disappeared. Aleco was outnumbered, which wouldn’t pose a threat to him with ordinary men, but these weren’t ordinary men—he had no chance.

From behind, two men dragged Accacia before Pons. He stared at her with indifference as she tried to halt their advancement by pushing her boots against the earth. She fought against their restraint by kicking them and jerking her body away in an attempt to escape the clutches of their gloved hands. She yanked her arm towards her body, but couldn’t slip from their grasp. She screamed in frustration.  “Let me go!” She bit the man on the arm and tore out a chunk of skin with her teeth, releasing a tide of blood. “Let me go,” she repeated as she thrashed in his clutches. Frustrated, the guildsman smacked her across the face, and she whimpered in response. The resounding clap amplified and echoed through the forest. She fell silent and ceased her resistance. Aleco squeezed his sword.

Pons spun the dagger between his fingertips. “So instead of doing as I requested, you chose to murder my two men, your old comrades, and bring along a
friend
?”

“She’s my sister,” he explained.

“Didn’t realize you had a sister,” he said.

“I never mentioned it.”

Pons stopped spinning his dagger. “Why is she here, Aleco?”

Aleco clutched the hilt of his sword as he searched for an answer. He could see no possibility of escape for both of them, but he would attempt to spare Accacia. “She offered to aid me in my mission,” he said. “We were traveling through the forest when your men chose to make things bloody—they got what they deserved. She has no part in this. I am the one who executed your men, so release her.” Pons stared at him. Aleco returned his look from within his hood, holding his ground as he waited for Pons to accept his explanation and release Accacia or reject the
phony story and kill them both where they stood.

Pons beckoned the soldiers with a flick of his fingers. The men dragged Accacia’s body before him. In the dark, Aleco could see the redness of her cheek and the dried blood that cracked against her neck. Her gaze remained glued to the ground and she avoided locking her gaze with any of the men; she didn’t even look at Aleco. Her body trembled as she awaited judgment.

Pons brushed away the strands of brunette locks that concealed her features. He lifted her chin and stared directly into her tear-stained face; her lips quivered at his inspection. Pons recognized the unparalleled beauty in her countenance and knew who she was. Pons cupped her face. “You know what I think, Aleco?” he said. He wiped away the tear on her cheek and Accacia closed her eyes at his touch. “I think you’re a liar.”

Aleco’s body shook with anger when Pons touched her. “Release her,” he demanded. Aleco inserted himself between Pons and Accacia, protecting her with his body. “She has nothing to do with any of this. Let her go.”

Pons ignored his words. “Grab him,” he instructed the guards. Aleco raised his sword but Pons steadied his hand with his words. “If you want her to live, I suggest you put that away.”

A soldier held his sword against Accacia’s throat and the other guildsman clasped her hands behind her back. He secured her hands in an unbreakable knot and she gasped when he tightened the rope. Aleco sheathed his sword and held his hands up in surrender. They restrained his arms and secured his wrists a special knot that can only be severed by the edge of a blade.

He looked at Accacia’s bloodless face, paler than the midnight moon, as she stood motionless within their grasp. The lines around her lips sagged in despair and the skin around her eyes was pruned from her dripping tears. Previously, her face was contorted in fear as she fought for her freedom, but now her eyes appeared hollow and glossy, hopeless. “We’ll be fine,” Aleco said. She didn’t look at him, nod her understanding, or even blink at his words—she had given up.

The escort team marched them through the forest, their
feet falling in unison as they maneuvered around the stumps of trees and mounds of earth toward the hidden hideaway. Aleco fidgeted with the knot behind his back and searched for a loophole in the rope. Accacia’s safety was his responsibility and he had to secure her release. If he lost his life, he didn’t care—he would protect her at any cost. Aleco knew the old man preferred Accacia over him anyway.

He glanced at Accacia. She sauntered alongside him with her eyes diverted to the dirt below her feet. Frustrated by her slow pace, the guildsmen shoved her forward and she yelped as she stumbled along. Aleco concentrated on loosening his knot.

Aleco watched the breath of the men escape into the air, the only visible evidence they were even there. Their footfalls were silent with the exception of the occasional crack of an unsuspecting branch that lay hidden on their path. Accacia’s footfalls fell against the earth like a played drum. Aleco spotted the dark outline of a falcon alongside their progression, pouncing from branch to branch through the glade. It cried into the night as it followed their death march. The falcon screeched every few seconds and the high pitched call became louder with every scream. The noise resonated within their ears and stole their attention, all other interests forgotten. The falcon continued its shrill squeal.

Pons armed his bow and aimed at the falcon. At the moment of release, Accacia nudged his shoulder and the arrow missed its target, embedding in a nearby tree. The falcon screamed once more before it escaped into darkness.