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Authors: Erica Stevens

Broken (23 page)

BOOK: Broken
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"Let me out of here,
now
."

Atticus released a harsh bark of laughter before leaning over the table toward his father. "It's amusing how you still seem to think you have some control over this situation, over me. Don't you understand yet? I'm not your son. Your son died the second that she did." For the first time apprehension flickered over his father's features. His eyes rapidly ran over him before settling on his left hand. Atticus had taken the ring off and placed it in his pocket when he'd met with his father earlier, but he'd slipped it on before coming back here. "The second that my
wife
died. You have no say over me, no control. You are
not
in charge here. Now tell me why? I had agreed to marry Anna…"

"You think Silas was going to allow you to marry his daughter when he found out you were keeping a mistress? No. There was no way I was going to allow this marriage to fall through because of some village…" his words trailed off when Atticus's upper lip curled back and a snarl escaped him. "Some woman."

"
How
did you do it?"

"Atticus…"

"Tell me!" he roared and placed more pressure against his father's hip.

His father winced, his hand clenched on the table as he strained to stay upright. "I had some of my men go into the human village and rile up the humans. They planted seeds of mistrust about what resided next door."

"And you told them what time to attack?" he demanded.

"I did," his father admitted. "She went to that school almost every day."

"Pathetic." Atticus raked his father with a scathing glance. "You threw away your life to ensure a marriage that you'll never live to see."

His father's eyebrows shot up as he realized that this wasn't merely just an argument or a simple physical altercation. This was a fight to the death and he was already on the losing end of it. His gaze darted frantically toward the doorway. Atticus had never seen his father even a little ruffled; it entertained him to see him so terrified now.

"Guards!" his father shouted.

Atticus laughed at him. "Shout it again," he taunted.

"Guards!" He yelled again, except this time Atticus yelled it loudly and laughingly with him.

"Oh guards!" Atticus called once more in a mocking tone of voice and pushed the table in a little more. His father's face twisted in agony, his hand fell onto the table as his body was forced over it. "I don't think they're coming. As a matter of fact, I
know
they're not coming. Do you know how I know?" he leaned toward his father and smiled to reveal his fangs. "Because I already killed them all. Just like I'm going to kill you."

Grabbing hold of the end of the table, Atticus flung it smoothly up as if it weighed no more than a log. It flipped end over end before smashing against the far wall. Freed, his father lurched to the side but he didn't come at Atticus like he had before. Instead, he seized upon this opportunity as a pitiful chance at escape. He hobbled toward the open door with his left foot dragging on the ground behind him. Atticus followed behind him, grim satisfaction filling him as he watched the man limp awkwardly down the hallway toward the stairs. His father paused only briefly to gawk at the crushed heart lying beside the guard at the top of the stairs.

"Aren't you stronger than me?" Atticus mocked as his father made it to the stairs. He paused in his pursuit of his father to pick up the body of the guard. He swung it easily over his shoulders as he strolled leisurely down the stairs behind his father. "Isn't that what you always remind me of? I'm not strong enough to take you yet."

His father glanced back at him before continuing in his awkward movements down the stairs. "Why are you running then father?" he inquired. "Why not face me and teach me a lesson?"

His father was only three feet away from the bottom of the steps when Atticus raced past him to the bottom of the stairs. He dropped the body of the guard carelessly onto the other two and leaned his elbow on the rail of the stairs. Folding his fingers before him, he smiled up at the horrified face of his father. "I think I may be old enough to take you now. What do you think father?"

Before his father could even blink he was on top of him, bringing him down beneath him. Perverse glee suffused Atticus as he wrenched his father's neck to the side and sank his fangs into his throat.

***

Atticus stepped back to survey the bodies he'd gathered around the massive table in the main hall. Most of the bodies were now as useless as the table always had been. He didn't know what had possessed him, but he'd felt the inescapable urge to place what remained of the servants and guards there. To make his father see what it was that
he
had pushed his own son to become before Atticus finished him off. He dropped the body of his father's favorite guard into the chair at the end of the table, across from where his father sat. He pushed the chair in before walking down to where his father sat at the head of the table.

He grabbed one of the candles from the table and lit it off of a torch hanging in the sconces lining the walls. Walking back, he placed the flame before his father and slid into the empty chair to the left of his father. His father's eyes slid to him but Atticus had taken too much of his blood for him to be able to move, rather he'd left just enough so that his father was well aware of his surroundings.

Leaning forward Atticus folded his hands before him as he stared into his father's rolling brown eyes. "If you're thinking I've changed my mind and decided you can live, I'm going to assure you that you're wrong." A muffled sound escaped his father but there wasn't even enough blood left in him for his lips to move. "I simply wanted you to see." Atticus waved a hand around the table as he sat back again. "What it is that I am capable of now,
because
of you."

His father's eyes flew around the room before focusing on him again. "Atticus." The word was barely discernible.

"I suppose you're going to say it was for my best, that you only did what had to be done and that you were only thinking of me."

"Yes."

"But as you can see now, it wasn't for the greater good, especially not
yours
. When you set those humans upon that village, you took all of the good that was inside of me and destroyed it. You see father." He leaned so close to him that their noses were nearly touching as he smiled at him again. "When she died she took my soul with her. Now there's nothing left but a hole that will never be filled again. All that's left now is a monster that is going to make
every
one pay. I will make humans suffer in ways they never imagined possible, I will make them live like the insects that they are, and I
will
destroy any vampire that stands in the way of my goal. I will do whatever it takes; squash whoever I must in order to make sure that this world feels my wrath."

His hand fell on top of his father's; he patted it as he gave a little laugh. "And you dear father are the first one that I am going to crush. The ironic thing is that by having the humans riot, you gave me the perfect way to cover up
your
death. I will be the dutiful grieving son after you are gone, but one day father, I will wrench power away from The Council and unleash hell on them all."

He rose from the table and calmly pushed in his chair before walking behind his father and resting his hands on his shoulders. Bending down, his lips were only inches away from his father's ear when he spoke again. "You were trying to create a man that would snivel at your feet. A man that would be like your guards and obey your every whim, you believed me only a boy that was weaker than you, but I am
no
boy."

He slapped his hands on his father's shoulders before rising to his full height. He strolled across the room and grabbed one of the torches before walking over to stand by the table again. "I bet you never thought that when you set forth an event meant to punish and dominate me, all you would create was the monster that would destroy you. You see father,
her
blood in my veins made me stronger." His father's eyes widened at the revelation of an exchange that was completely unheard of in their world. "But when you ripped her away from me, you unleashed something primitive and volatile. My bloodlines are far more superior than you ever knew."

He bent before his father one final time. "I hope you rot in Hell."

"Don't… don't do this," he managed to get out.

"Oh don't beg father, it's so unbecoming. I bet Genny didn't beg for her life." He walked to the door and turned back to survey the table and the bodies posed around it. There was something as sick and twisted about this exhibit as what was inside of him now and he took pleasure in seeing everyone gathered there.

Next
time
, he vowed.
I'll draw it out. Next time they'll all know the despair of being alive but not being able to live. They'll know the torment of being mostly dead while forced to continue on. They'll know what it's like to be me.

He wished he could extend the punishment of his father out for years, but that wasn't going to be possible. With regret, he tossed the torch onto the rushes lining the floor. His father made some kind of panicked noise, his fingers tapped on the table but it was the only movement he could make in his state.

The heat of the flames licked at Atticus, blew the hair back from his face and dried the blood clinging to him as the rushes caught and the fire rapidly began to spread. With the fire came the knowledge that he could simply walk forward, step into the flames now climbing up the walls and leaping toward the table. He could let it all go and be with Genny again. It didn't matter if there was something beyond this life, or not, he would be with her again at least in some way, and death seemed like a much more pleasurable option than this bleak existence without her. He could walk away from the rage and grief consuming him simply by allowing the crackling flames to devour him.

The prospect was so entirely promising that he closed his eyes, held his palms out beside him and tilted his head back as the fire licked up the walls and his father's muffled sounds became more distressed.

If he gave in now though, Genny's death would go unavenged and there were so many
more
out there that had to pay. Opening his eyes, he resigned himself to the fact that now was not the time for him. He could not be rewarded with death until he completed his mission.

He watched the fire consume his father's body before turning around and walking away. The heat of the blaze beat against his back and blew his hair forward as he emerged from the manor. Without looking back, he walked toward where he had left Genny's body.

CHAPTER 23

He spotted the shadow amongst the trees before he was halfway across the clearing. The bitter scent of fear and the salty tang of tears drifted forth in potent waves along with the acrid aroma of smoke and roses. "Camille," he greeted coldly.

Tears streaked her dirt and soot stained cheeks but her eyes were red as she rose from her position beside Genny's body. Her gazed drifted past him to the fire he could still feel the heat of against his back. "Your father caused this," she stated flatly.

Something in his mind whispered at him to kill her, to put her down. She was a witness to what he had just done; the only one that could reveal that it hadn't been a raid by the humans that had killed his father. The bloodlust rose within him, shimmered through his twisted mind, and urged him to sink his fangs into her neck but what little remained of his compassion reared to life.

Genny could forgive him for anything, he knew that, but she would never forgive him if he harmed her sister. He would rather be caught and sentenced to death than do the one thing that would have made Genny despise him. There was only a sliver of kindness left within him and Camille was the last remaining vampire in existence that could bring it out of him.

"He did," Atticus confirmed.

"He's dead."

"He is."

Her chin jutted out and she nodded briskly. "Good." Her gaze drifted down to Genny, more tears spilled from her eyes. "It should have been me."

"She saved you." It wasn't a question, upon seeing where the arrows had been located on Genny's body, and not seeing Camille's body nearby, he'd suspected that Genny had been trying to block the arrows from hitting her sister.

"She did but she shouldn't have, she…" Camille broke off as she choked on a sob. "You
both
had a life planned. She'd finally found happiness, she was finally safe. It should have been me."

He'd thought his temper would fray at the confirmation of what Genny had done; instead all he felt was acceptance. It had been Genny's last act to ensure her sister's life, and he would make sure to keep Camille alive. Camille lifted her head to examine him; her gaze slid over his body but instead of looking repulsed and horrified more tears rapidly slid down her cheeks. He remained immobile before her, his face expressionless.

"It wasn't just Genny that was lost tonight, was it?" Camille asked tremulously.

Atticus knew that she wasn't talking about the other vampires and humans that had been killed tonight as her gaze remained riveted upon him. "No."

Her head bowed before she knelt at her sister's side again. "Now what?"

"Now we bury her."

"Where?"

"I know where. I have to get a shovel."

He turned away from her and walked to the barn to retrieve a shovel from within. The manor was beginning to crumble in on itself when he reemerged. He stopped to watch as the last bit of proof of what had occurred within burned away. Turning away from the building he hurried to rejoin Camille.

He handed her the shovel before bending to carefully lift Genny's body from where she lay. He repressed the overwhelming urge to cry as he cradled her against his chest and kissed her forehead.

Camille stayed close by his side; her steps were silent as she followed him to the log that crossed the river. Staring at the log, he was struck by the memory of Genny sitting upon it in her chemise. Drops of water fell into the water from her toes skimming across the surface of the river. The sun shone down upon her and highlighted her raven hair and pale complexion. The memory was so vivid that he could almost touch her as she turned to him with that playful smile upon her face and a twinkle in her glimmering black eyes. She was there before him, her love shining from her like a beacon that would forever call to his soul.

Heartbreak twisted his chest. The grief almost drove him to his knees but he somehow managed to keep standing as the image of her faded away and he was left with nothing but the empty shadows of the forest, and the hum of the insects surrounding them. Now she would always be nothing more than a passing dream, a persistent memory, and a promise of hopes never to be fulfilled and a life forever denied to them both.

He tore himself away from the log before he became lost to his memories. Placing Genny's body tenderly upon the ground near the river, he scooped up handfuls of water and slowly began to wash the soot, blood and dirt from her face. He couldn't explain it, and certainly didn't understand it, but he couldn't bring himself to place her into the earth without washing away some of the damage from this night.

When he'd finished cleansing her cream skin he rose to his feet, took the shovel from a silently weeping Camille and rapidly began to dig Genny's grave. When he was done, he tossed the shovel aside and pulled himself from the deep hole. He could barely bring himself to look at her body as he walked by her and into the water. Just as he couldn't bring himself to put her into the earth while dirty, he also couldn't bring himself to touch her again with the blood of so many others on him. As he scrubbed at his skin, the water turned red from the blood of all those he'd slaughtered this night in retribution for Genny's death. He watched the blood flowing swiftly downstream until the water finally ran clear again.

Striding from the river, water dripped off of him as he knelt at her side. His hand shook as he pulled the blue ribbon he'd bought for her free of her hair and carefully undid the long braid. Her silken hair slid through his fingers and fell around her in a beautiful black cloud. Bending low, he placed a kiss against her forehead before tenderly kissing her lips.

"Forever my soul," he whispered against her mouth before slipping the ribbon into his pocket. He went to pick her up but Camille stopped him.

"Wait." She knelt beside Genny and kissed her forehead. "I love you."

She sat back and folded Genny's hands demurely upon her belly. A flash of the moonlight against the gold band encircling Genny's finger drew his attention to the symbol of promises unfulfilled and his failure. His thumb brushed against the matching ring on his finger. He'd do everything he could to make sure that he, and countless others, were made to pay for that failure.

Camille stepped away and Atticus lifted Genny once more. Carrying her to the hole, he jumped inside and settled her body carefully into the grave. It took everything he had to release her and climb out of the grave again. Sweat beaded across his brow, the muscles in his arms shook but he finally forced himself to lift the shovel and throw the first scoop of dirt onto her still form. Tears and fury burned his throat as Genny disappeared beneath the dirt. When the last shovelful fell on top of her, he tapped it down with the broad side of the shovel then snapped the tool in half and heaved the pieces into the river.

The choking sorrow left him as he stood staring down at the freshly turned earth. Madness whispered through his mind, beckoning to him to murder, to kill, to destroy everyone and everything he came across. As much as it called to him he knew he couldn't give into it, not yet. There was a long road to absolution ahead of him. In order to travel it he was going to have to tread carefully, to appear as sane as possible if he was ever going to succeed in making them all suffer.

He'd been infuriated enough and stuffed enough on blood and death to take down all those humans and his father tonight, but that wouldn't be enough to carry him through the rest of the humans on this planet and the aristocrats. No, he would have to bide his time, make allies, and gain strength. With age and friendships would come more power than any vampire had ever dreamed of possessing.

There were going to be countless, heinous things that he wasn't going to want to do over the coming years but he
would
do them. He would do everything he could to destroy the world that had taken Genny from him.

"She told me to tell you something," Camille whispered. Atticus threw back his shoulders and turned toward her. Her blond hair appeared silver in the moonlight; the tears on her face had a star-like glow to them. She was so unlike her sister yet she was the only connection he had left to Genny. "She said, 'you tell Atticus he's my heart.' Those were her exact words for you."

Words failed him as he stared at her for a long moment. Not knowing what to say to her, he slipped Genny's ribbon from his pocket. His gaze was riveted to it as he ran it over his fingers.

"Now what?" she asked tremulously.

"Follow me." He turned away from her and walked back through the woods. They walked parallel to the snapping flames consuming the village. It would take some time but the fire would eventually burn itself out.

***

Camille slumped into a chair at the table. Her hand went to the lopsided blanket folded on top of it, the one that Genny had recently finished. Atticus refused to allow himself to give into the sadness that the memory of Genny working diligently on that blanket provoked. He remained standing in the doorway, away from Camille and the blanket.

"No one can ever know what I did tonight," he said bluntly.

Camille's head turned toward him. "They never will."

"I mean it Camille."

Her hand slid away from the blanket as she turned toward him. "They killed my sister, Atticus. Genny loved me, she loved you, and she cared for others but
she
was the only one that I loved and they
took
her from me," she said vehemently. "
No
one will ever know what I saw tonight."

Atticus stared at her before walking into the room and settling into the chair across from her. "I understand."

Her sky blue eyes pinned his. "Yes, you do. So what do you plan to do now?"

"I plan to make them all pay, every single last one of them. Humans have kept us hidden in the shadows for too long. Vampires have created this world of constant infighting and seclusion that has put us at the mercy of a species that is far inferior to us. I don't care how many years it takes, or what I have to do, but the human species will learn their inferior place in this world and I will destroy any vampire that gets in my way of making that happen. They'll pay for what was done here tonight, they'll
all
pay."

"Good."

He lifted his eyes to meet her steely gaze. "I'd expected a, 'that isn't what Genny would want', from you."

"I think we both know that revenge isn't what Genny would want, but she's not here anymore and that's what
I
want," Camille said fervently. "It's
their
fault and they deserve to pay. I'm not my sister, I'm
not
forgiving."

"No," he said. "You're not."

She was nonplussed by his words. "I'll do whatever I can to help you, just let me know where to start."

"You'll start by leaving, for good."

"What?" she blurted. "But I can help you!"

"The best way for you to help me is for you to leave. After the events tonight, The Council is going to make all vampires leave England for at least fifty years so we will all be leaving anyway. But I can't have you around me."

"Why? I can be useful…"

"No, you can't," he interrupted brusquely. "You're the only weakness I still have."

"What of Merle?" she demanded.

His teeth ground together as he thought of his cousin. Merle was his best friend, his confidante, the one who had always stood by his side, but… "I would walk over his body to burn the world," he told her honestly. "You however, Genny died to save you and I won't let her sacrifice be in vain. If you are near me, I'll worry about you and you'll be a distraction to me. There are things I am going to have to do that neither of us want to see."

Her eyes searched his; her shoulders slumped as she leaned forward and took hold of his hands. Revulsion slid through him, he stiffened instantly at the feel of her skin against his. Her eyes widened upon his and she abruptly released his hands.

"That night with Felix, when I came to get you, you already knew she was in trouble," she said.

It hadn't been a question but Atticus answered her anyway, "Yes."

"What was between you, it was something deeper, something most of us don't feel, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

More tears filled her eyes. "I never thought of it until tonight but you were already halfway through the woods when I came across you. Tonight you were already on your way again, weren't you?"

"I was too late."

"This wasn't your fault."

He wanted to believe that but he knew the truth. "In many ways it was."

Camille shook her head. "You gave her more happiness than she had ever hoped to have, even on your darkest days you
must
remember that." He remained silent, uncertain of how to respond to her. "You're going to marry that woman aren't you?"

He was relieved when the conversation drifted back to easier waters to navigate. "Yes. Allies are what I will need to accomplish what must be done. That is another reason why I cannot have you around. Your presence will only bring questions that I won't be able to answer."

"I understand." Her lower lip trembled; she began to cry again as her eyes drifted to the blanket. She gently laid her hand upon it. "Genny would want you to be happy."

BOOK: Broken
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