Dalakis Passion 3 - Stefan's Salvation (23 page)

her skin like an icy wind. It was then she realized she was naked.
Her hands had been tied together, raised above her head and securely bound to
something. She tugged at the bindings, but her arms were almost numb because the
ropes wrapped around them were so tight. She seemed to be spread over a low stone
surface, much like an altar. "Where," she began, stopping to lick her dry lips. "Where
are we?"
"This is my place. No one comes here but me." She heard the sound of a match
striking and then a candle flared to life just off to her right. It illuminated a room
painted entirely in black. From what she could see, the room was mostly empty except
for the slab of stone she was lying on. Turning her head, she glimpsed several long
aquariums, but instead of fish, they held poisonous snakes that hissed and slithered as
the light hit them.
Jeremiah continued around the room, lighting candles which sat atop tall black
metal stands. When the room was ablaze with light, he stood beside her, staring down
at her like some dark demon. His eyes gleamed with excitement as he stroked his hand
along the side of her face. Laurel Rose jerked her head away, but he just laughed,
digging his fingers into her cheeks as he turned her face back toward him. "There is no
escape. You are mine to do with as I choose."
"You're crazy." The words slipped out of her mouth, but he just laughed. The
maniacal sound echoed in the dark, almost empty chamber.
"Perhaps. But perhaps not." Giving her face one final squeeze, he allowed his hand
to slip down the curve of her neck and onto her bare shoulder. Laurel Rose shivered
with revulsion. His fingertips felt cold against her flesh as he traced his hand over her
breasts and then down across her belly. Her stomach roiled at his touch. "It doesn't
matter. What matters is that I have you."
Moving down toward her feet, he gripped her ankle in his hand. She tried to kick
out, wanting to hurt him, but she was still so weak that all she did was hurt herself
when her leg fell back against the stone.
"Temper, temper." He chuckled to himself as he wrapped a length of rope around
her ankle. Capturing her other foot, he bound the two of them together before securing
them to a large iron circle at the base of the table. When he was finished, he brushed his
hands and stood back, staring at his handiwork. "There, that's perfect."
"What do you want with me?" Laurel Rose still couldn't believe that a man who
purported to be a man of God would shoot out her tire, cause an accident and then
kidnap her. She'd always sensed that he was malevolent, but this was beyond her
comprehension.
"It's simple, really." He strode around the table, studying her from every angle. She
followed him as best she could, not wanting to take her eyes off him for a minute. Like
the snakes against the wall, he was dangerous and deadly and preparing to strike. "I
want your power."
She forced herself not to cringe when she felt him standing behind her head. But
she couldn't suppress the cry of distress that escaped her lips when he stroked her hair.
The man was pure evil. She sensed it in every cell of his body. He was enjoying her fear
and discomfort, getting perverse pleasure and drawing power from it. Laurel Rose bit
her lip to smother her cries. She would not feed his ego or his enjoyment. Stefan would
come.
That thought helped clear the terror and the cobwebs from her mind. Surely it had
to be dark by now. Stefan would have risen and would be searching for her. Opening
up all her senses, she called out to him with her mind. She had no idea where she was,
but she prayed the connection they had would help lead him to her.
"What do you mean you want my power? And just where are we?" She needed to
keep him talking. Anything to give Stefan more time to find her. And he would come.
Of that she had absolutely no doubt. Just as the sun rose in the morning and set in the
evening, Stefan would come for her. She just had to stay alive long enough for him to
find her.
"Why, we're at church, Laurel Rose. It's quite convenient for me and no one would
think to look for you here. No one else knows that this room exists. I had it built
specially, dug out below the church with a secret entrance only I know about. The poor
builder had an unfortunate accident once the room was finished." His footsteps echoed
on the wooden floor as he walked around the altar to stand at her side once again.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared down at her with a benign expression on his
face. It was the one he commonly wore--a placid mask that hid the monster beneath.
Laurel Rose shuddered to think of what had become of that other man. She
imagined that her fate would not be much different from his. But she wasn't dead yet
and she wasn't about to give up. As unobtrusively as possible, she worked the ropes
that were tied around her wrists, trying to loosen them enough so she might be able to
free herself. "Very clever." She sensed Jeremiah's need to brag about his
accomplishments, to have his ego stroked. She'd keep him talking all night if that's
what it took.
Jeremiah inclined his head. "I thought so. The simple fools of this parish actually
think I'm a priest. Pity they never checked out my credentials or they might have
discovered that the original Jeremiah Stoner was a man in his late sixties. Such a shame
he had to have an accident."
The man was absolutely insane. Laurel Rose swallowed hard, forcing back the bile
that threatened to erupt from her stomach. She couldn't afford to be sick. Not now.
How many heinous crimes had this man perpetrated in order to feed his sick fantasies?
Forcing herself to look suitably impressed, she inclined her head. "Very clever indeed."
Jeremiah smirked, the light from the candles giving a demonic glow to his soulless
blue eyes. "Preach a sermon on Sunday and pretend to be concerned about all their
petty little problems and you get to live for free with a salary. A pathetic lot really, but
useful."
She froze as he reached out his hand and traced her lips with his fingers. Her heart
was pounding hard against her chest as she forced herself not to react to his touch. Even
though the room was cool, she could feel a bead of sweat slide down her temple.
"My father was a preacher. He beat the words of the Good Book into me. Quite
useful, actually." He continued his one-sided conversation, seemingly lost in his
memories. "Too bad he didn't live long enough to see me preach a sermon." Goose
bumps covered her flesh as he gently cupped her head and tugged her braid out from
under her body. Holding it in his hand, he stared as if mesmerized by the long, dark
hair. "Unfortunately for my father, I had need of his blood."
"His blood!" Laurel Rose was appalled. He'd actually killed his own father.
"Hmm," he absently agreed as he continued to finger her braid. She was hardly
breathing now, afraid to do or say anything. He looked like a man in the throes of
ecstasy as he smoothed the ends of the braid over his face, leaning even closer toward
her. "Too bad you've got such an ugly scar on your face." He feathered the ends of hair
down of the right side of her face, tracing the thin white line. "And your poor leg," he
murmured with false sympathy. "Such a shame for a young woman to be so scarred. I'll
bet your new boyfriend fucked you in the dark so he didn't have to look at you."
She cringed at his vile words and tried not to listen. She would not allow him to
taint what she and Stefan had shared. His laughter scraped against her nerves as he
dropped the braid, allowing it to fall across her chest. Turning away from her, he
walked to a shrouded corner. Laurel Rose kept her eyes on him as she tugged at her
bindings. She hoped it wasn't only her imagination, but they seemed to be getting
looser.
"I, on the other hand, have no interest in your body. If I had more time, perhaps I
would indulge, but I have waited long enough for you." Jeremiah turned back from the
corner and Laurel Rose's blood ran cold. In one hand, he clasped a large silver chalice.
In the other, a long-handled knife. The knife blade shone silver in the light and the
handle was encrusted with what certainly looked like real rubies. "The silver in the
blade and the chalice will enhance the potency of your blood." He held it to the candle,
inspecting it. "There are those of us who understand the power of blood."
"There are more of you?" Laurel Rose didn't both to hide her revulsion.
"Oh yes, my dear. Not many, I'll grant you that. Just a select group who
understands what true power is and who aren't afraid to reach out and take it. I was
lucky enough to meet such a man when I was younger. When the time came, I absorbed
his own power into my body." Jeremiah smiled, his handsome features a sharp contrast
to the ugliness of his soul. "His blood was quite potent." He licked his lips.
"Devil worshipers?" She couldn't fathom the depths of his depravity.
"No, no." He smiled. "We don't believe in God or the Devil. There is only power. If
you know how to get it and how to wield it, you can have anything your heart desires."
Laurel Rose shook her head. There would be no reasoning, no chance of reprieve
from Jeremiah. He was beyond compassion, beyond redemption. She swallowed back
the bile that threatened to choke her. All she could do was pray that Stefan would get to
her in time.
"Your blood will feed me, give me strength. I've had to make do with inferior blood
for quite some time now. But you..." He stroked the ruby lovingly with his fingers.
"You, Laurel Rose, will nourish me, empower me."
Setting the chalice on a ledge just below her bound hands, he frowned as he
examined her wrists. "You've been naughty, I see. You've made your wrists bleed--
that's a waste of good blood."
She didn't see the blow coming in time to turn her head. Tethered as she was, there
was no way to avoid it. His fist came down against her temple, delivering a staggering
blow. Darkness threatened and she fought it. If she passed out, she was dead. She tasted
blood in her mouth as she gasped for breath.
His hands wrapped around her throat, tightening with each word. "I will have your
power, Laurel Rose. The townspeople call you a witch, but you have psychic powers
that rival mine. The power is in the blood. Every culture since the beginning of time has
known that. Warriors in ancient times ate the hearts of their enemies and drank their
blood to ingest their power."
Her eyes bulged as she gasped and wheezed, struggling for a single breath of air.
Her vision was getting dimmer until he released her and stepped back, grabbing for the
silver blade. Coughing and choking, she tried to speak, but that was beyond her.
Holding the dagger high in the air, he smiled as he brought it closer to her body. "You
will bleed for me, Laurel Rose. I will watch it drain into the chalice and as you lay
dying, I will drink it, taking your power into me."
"You're insane," she whispered, tugging frantically on the ropes. But there was no
escape. "Stefan." She tried to scream his name, but her throat was raw and swollen and
what came out was even less than a whisper. But Jeremiah heard it and laughed.
"Your lover is most likely dead by now. He cannot save you. This is your destiny. I
am your fate." The blade sliced through her skin easily and she felt the warmth of her
blood begin to flow down her hands to drain into the waiting chalice.
Suddenly, the door to the chamber exploded, smashing into hundreds of tiny
shards of wood. Laurel Rose was filled with calm. Stefan had come for her, just as she'd
known he would. Jeremiah had jerked back at the explosion and, seeing that his
attention was no longer on her, she continued to work at her bindings.
The blood flowing from her wrists made them slippery and she felt the ropes begin
to loosen. But it got harder and harder to make her hands move and finally she stopped
altogether. Her hands came back down to rest against the cool, unyielding stone. She
was so cold and so very tired. She'd just rest for a minute.
Sound and sight and feeling all faded as she slid into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fear unlike any that he'd ever known gripped Stefan, as he raced through the
darkness. He could feel Laurel Rose's fear and pain as keenly as if they were his own.
But he buried it deep within him as hundreds of years of training as a warrior kicked in.
His hand opened and closed into a fist as he longed for his sword, which was back in
his home in New Orleans. The blade was a familiar extension of his arm--a weapon
he'd used with deadly skill and accuracy on many occasions over the long, dark
centuries. But with or without his sword, he would destroy his enemy. He was not only
lethal with a blade His mind was an even sharper weapon, relentlessly honed over the
years.
The force of his anger blew the door to bits as he raced down the dark, dank
staircase and into the chamber below. Laurel Rose was here. He could feel her life force
waning with each passing second.
He took in the entire scene in one swift glance. The candles flickering against the
stone walls, the snakes in their terrariums, the long stone altar where Laurel Rose was
bound and naked and the man standing above her with a knife in his hand.
Jeremiah Stoner was a dead man. He just didn't know it yet.
The air was awash with the smell of blood and fear. Her blood. Her fear. Stefan
growled as he advanced on Jeremiah.
"Stop or I'll kill her." Jeremiah's face was pale in the candlelight, but his grip was
firm on the knife. He still believed he had the upper hand. Still believed that he could
win. "You're supposed to be dead." Jeremiah seemed to be more perturbed than
frightened.
Stefan felt it then--the push at his mind. The other man's attempt to control him
using his psychic powers. Stefan smiled.
Jeremiah's eyes glazed over as his face turned red. "I will have her blood. There is
power in the blood and when I drink it, I will be more powerful than you can imagine."
Jeremiah kept the knife pressed against Laurel Rose's neck as he reached for the chalice
with his other hand.
This time when Stefan smiled, he allowed his fangs to show. His eyes glowed red as
he advanced. "There is power in the blood, Jeremiah." Stefan's voice was almost gentle