Authors: Amy Miles
Chapter 13
“Roseline?
Can you hear me?” Fane cried, cradling her battered face in his hands.
Roseline’s right eye was swollen completely shut; her left pupil was dilated, encircled by burst blood vessels.
Her jaw hung open; several teeth were shattered and lodged in her throat.
Tears streamed down Fane’s handsome face as he looked at his broken friend.
“Please say something,” he pleaded, holding her close.
Her groan gave Fane hope.
He held Roseline’s hand as she fought to open her eye.
“Oh my love, what has he done to you,” Fane moaned, gently brushing his hand over her blood soaked hair.
Never before had her beating been so brutal.
Her injuries were extensive.
If she’d been human she would have died several hours earlier from internal bleeding.
She lay, limp as a rag doll in his arms.
Most of the bones in her body had been shattered.
The worst part…
Vladimir
had waited for her to begin healing before he broke her bones again.
Over and over.
Fane had been beside himself as he listened to her screams that had echoed through the corridors of the castle, stretching on for endless hours.
From sunup till long after the sun had disappeared over the horizon.
Then he’d had to wait an unbearable length of time until Roseline was finally brought to her room.
A raspy noise escaped from Roseline’s throat.
Fane winced as blood seeped from her mouth.
“Shh, it’s ok,” Fane whispered.
“I’m getting you out of here.”
Roseline shrieked in agony as she fought to shake her head.
“No,” she croaked.
“Leave me.”
Fane’s heart wrenched.
He never should have brought her back.
He’d known
Vladimir
would be furious but Fane had hoped that his obsession with his new mistress, Lavinia Ardelean, would have eased some of his anger.
Fane had been wrong.
Roseline’s guttural screams would haunt him for centuries to come.
“I’m not leaving you here,” he whispered, brushing his lips against her forehead, the only place that still seemed intact.
“I won’t ever let him touch you again.”
A single tear slid down from Roseline’s right eye.
Fane couldn’t tell if it was acceptance, hope or sorrow.
He decided he wasn’t going to stick around long enough to find out.
Rising from her bed, Fane looped Roseline’s arm around his neck.
It hung there limply before falling free again.
He frantically looked all around, searching for the correct wall panel.
His hands fluttered over the wall nearest her built in book case.
“I know it’s here somewhere,” he grunted, struggling to keep Roseline balanced in one arm.
A click sounded softly and dust filtered down onto the plush rug.
“Got it!” Fane crowed, pushing the low panel aside.
Only three people knew of the secret passageway.
Fane had discovered it not long after
Vladimir
tore apart the entire castle in search of Roseline.
But, try as he might to hide his discovery, Lucien had found it as well.
Fane prayed that Lucien was still enchanted by his newest lady of the night to notice Fane’s disappearance this time.
“Don’t,” Roseline voice grated.
Fane glanced down.
“I love you too much to let you stay.”
“You’ll die,” she whispered, another tear escaping.
Fane nodded solemnly, his love for her burning in his eyes.
There was no denying his devotion.
He would save her, even if that meant his life was forfeit.
“Then so be it.”
Roseline was too weak to protest further.
Her head lolled to the side as Fane ducked low, hurrying through the passageway.
The door slid shut behind him with a soft hiss.
They were sealed in.
Fane twisted and turned, thankful that his Immortal eyes allowed him to see even in the pitch dark.
The tunnel thinned out, forcing Fane to lower Roseline’s nearly unconscious form into a hole and shimmy down next to her.
At other places he was forced to pull Roseline behind him when the ceiling dropped off dramatically.
Finally Fane detected light.
“We’re almost there,” Fane whispered softly.
He took Roseline in his arms once more, brushing the dirt and leaves from her hair.
“Hold on just a little longer.”
Fane froze, pressed tightly against the cold stone wall, as voices approached.
“You seem to be in a good mood,” a low husky feminine voice cooed.
Fane barely held back his snarl, instantly realizing who was standing above him.
“She learned her lesson,”
Vladimir
responded indifferently.
“Oh, don’t even try to act like you didn’t enjoy it,” the woman purred.
There was a rustle of silk.
“You know you enjoy a good torture.”
A grunt of affirmation was all the woman was afforded.
“Perhaps you’d like to work off some of that pent up frustration on me, my Lord.”
Fane clamped down his jaw, sickened by the taunting voice of
Vladimir
’s mistress.
He had always assumed the woman must possess a blackened heart in order to capture and retain
Vladimir
’s attention, but to actually hear her in action was revolting.
“What did you have in mind?”
Vladimir
asked, his interest piqued.
Fane was grateful that he couldn’t hear the whispers, but was disgusted to hear the quickening of
Vladimir
’s pulse.
Whatever Lavinia had suggested must have been sadistic enough to excite
Vladimir
.
With a high pitched giggle and a rustle of silk, the couple hurried off.
When they were far enough away, Fane blew out the breath he’d been holding.
He glanced down at the beaten face of the angel he held in his arms and felt his rage begin to build.
From the moment he’d laid eyes on Roseline, she’d captured his heart.
And now, over 300 years later, his love for her had never dwindled.
The few brief moment’s they’d been able to share together had been far too short, but they’d kept him going all this time.
Without her, Fane’s life would be meaningless.
He had to save her, no matter what it took.
Roseline would need blood to rejuvenate to normal strength.
Fane winced at the idea of her feeding.
It wasn’t something they liked to do.
Taking another person’s life blood had serious consequences but he couldn’t risk losing her.
Nor could he offer her his own blood.
He would need his full strength to get them out of the country.
No.
As much as he hated the idea, he would need to find a human.
“Hold on, my love.”
Fane reached up and pushed on the grate, wincing at the noise it made.
He paused, straining his ears to pick up sounds of movement.
He heard nothing.
Fane poked his head out of the old stone well that stood in the middle of the courtyard, glancing all around to make sure no one was about.
A gothic cross dangled from the top, hindering his view.
Deciding it was now or never, Fane leaped out of the small space, crouching low as he scanned the deserted area.
The moon shone full overhead, lighting the snow kissed ground.
It was a cloudless night, frost hung in the air.
Fane was out in the open.
He would be easily seen from any window overlooking the courtyard.
Fane reached down and pulled Roseline up into his arms and ran for the park grounds.
***
Vladimir
roared with outrage as the door to his chamber swung open mere seconds after the pounding ceased.
“This had better be good,” he growled, pushing Lavinia away.
She scurried back under the covers, glaring viciously at Lucien.
“She’s gone,” Lucien hissed, the muscles in his gaunt waxy cheeks pulsed furiously.
Vladimir
leaped from the bed, ignoring his state of undress.
“How?”
Lucien averted his eyes, tossing his brother a robe.
“There’s a passage in her room that leads to the courtyard.
That’s how she escaped before.”
“And you never cared to tell me about it before now?”
Vladimir
shouted, his black eyes gleaming murderously.
“I felt she was in no condition to escape again,” he replied, sounding bored.
Vladimir
snatched a belt off the floor, winding it tightly around his waist.
“There’s no way she could have healed so quickly.”
“She had help,” Lucien’s silky voice whispered.
“Who?”
Vladimir
growled, clamping down on his brothers arm.
Lucien glared at the offending hand but did not pull away.
“Who do you think?
Vladimir
snarled, his lips pulling back over his teeth.
They glistened like a mother of pearl in the candlelight.
“Fane.”
***
“Hold on just a little longer.
I’ll find somewhere safe for us,” Fane whispered, more for his own benefit than Roseline’s.
She hung unconscious in his arms.
Fane ducked and dove behind trees, needing to remain out of sight until he was off the castle grounds.
His pulse pounded loudly in his ears, making it nearly impossible to detect anyone following them.
Fane was desperate, struggling to think of somewhere to take her.
He knew if they didn’t escape now, they were both dead.
Vladimir
would probably tear Roseline limb from limb while Fane watched, torturing him until the last moment.
The image of Roseline’s body, broken far worse than it already was, drove him forward.
When Fane reached the far gate, he leaped high up into a tree.
Gripping Roseline tightly in his arms, Fane jumped, landing nimbly on his toes.
He’d reached a road, but that did little to help him.
No one in
Romania
would be dumb enough to be out during the full moon.
Too many superstitions had been created around such a night.
He was on his own.
Trotting as fast as he dared, fearful of injuring Roseline further, Fane left the castle behind.
He headed away from town, further into the countryside, knowing it was his only chance.
If he led
Vladimir
into the heart of town,
Vladimir
would simply set the town ablaze until he flushed them out.
Too many innocent lives would be lost.