Worth Dying For (3 page)

Chapter Two

Returning to his underground home a few hours before dawn, Bane vowed to be more careful around the humans in future. The woman—Amber—had sensed him. He’d been able to hear her racing heart and smell her fear from thirty feet away. Terrifying her had not been his intention. Bane had simply hoped they would discuss their plans in a little more detail so he could prepare to divert them if necessary.

Bane entered the living area of the cave and looked towards his bed, grimacing as he acknowledged he wouldn’t be using it any time soon. Sleep was a luxury rather than a necessity, and he would do without until they left. But he couldn’t do without clothing—who knew when and if further action would become necessary? He had to be ready for anything, including shielding his skin from the sun. Bane donned the only clothes he owned—jeans, boots and a T-shirt—and grabbed a black cloak from the recesses of a shelf. He twisted the piece of dense, closely woven fabric into a belt and knotted it around his waist with a sigh. Bane always hated the way any clothing restricted his movements and the cumbersome material encasing his torso only deepened his irritation, but there was no question of his not taking it with him—the cloak had given him a few minutes grace and saved him from a grisly death more than once.

Shutting down the generator that powered the few items he needed for entertainment rather than comfort, he checked his cell had charged fully before putting it in silent mode and slipping into the pocket of his jeans. His life would be on hold for the next few days but if Ulrich should require Bane’s attention, he would have no choice but to take the call. Not that he’d be able to drop everything and go do his Master’s bidding this time. The old man would just have to send Solomon to clean up his latest mess. Bane had more important matters at hand and no time to help Ulrich win another of his petty, ego-driven battles.

He ran towards their camp, drawn closer by the knowledge they were asleep. The sound of Amber’s gentle snores, barely audible under David’s ear-splitting grunts, perturbed him. A longing he thought he’d overcome sparked to life in his chest and he thought back to a time when his love would sleep soundly in his arms, safe in the knowledge he would keep her from harm.

Bane envied David. The woman sharing his sleeping quarters might not want him but David could still find love one day, and he wouldn’t have to face eternity without her when she died.

A change in the rhythm of Amber’s breathing warned Bane she would wake imminently and he moved away, scanning the area around him, ensuring he would be shrouded in darkness before settling down to watch them again. The sound of the tent’s zipper ripping open announced the start of their day a few minutes later. David appeared first, half-naked in no more than his boxers, and looking mighty proud of himself. He stretched and preened as he stared out over the ocean, patting and rubbing his torso like a displaying mountain gorilla. Bane fought the urge to laugh out loud.

The woman emerged a few minutes later. More modest than the man, she had donned a bathing suit and taken her long auburn hair out of the bun she’d worn the day before. Bane turned away when he found he couldn’t drag his gaze from her shapely form. A dark hunger roared to life in his gut—as it did whenever he hunted or had sex—but he pushed it away, disgusted with himself and her. How dare she force her presence on him and reduce him to no more than a reluctant voyeur? But even as his thoughts railed at her, he knew his anger was misplaced. It had been way too long since he’d been with a woman, if a semi-naked one affected him so. His sex drive had always been strong—as it was with most of his kind—but still controllable. Bane’s reaction to Amber was a weakness on his part. Unchecked desire could cloud his mind and make him an easier target. He rarely allowed anything to distract him so.

He grinned as he remembered the boy—for that’s what David seemed to Bane—trying to make a manly show of carrying the woman off after she’d sensed something watching them. His weak legs had trembled under the strain and the situation must have been humiliating for both of them. The thought pulled him up short. What did it matter to him how they felt? Once, in a former life, he’d cared. And where had it got him? His only love had died mere feet away with him helpless to stop it. Since that day, nobody’s feelings had mattered. Not even his.

Bane’s gaze returned to Amber, following the path of the sun’s early rays playing on her pale skin. Freckles danced across her nose and the back of her shoulders, a shade lighter than her hair. The breeze carried her essence to him, intensifying her assault on his senses as a heady mix of synthetic orchids and perfume chemicals burned his nose but did nothing to mask her natural, almond-like scent.

She turned her body towards the island, fluffing her auburn tresses around her head and smiling up into the sky before staring directly at him. Had her vision been as sharp as his, she would have seen him watching her and, no doubt noticed his reaction, but she simply closed her eyes and allowed the heat to warm her face. The impact of her stare hit Bane like a kick in the chest. His fingers dug into the rough bark of the tree beneath him, holding him still and preventing him from following the urge to leap from his hiding place and fall at her feet.

Mary
. She had Mary’s eyes.

For one insane moment, he wondered if he’d conjured up the image of his dead wife by thinking of her. The woman below held a striking resemblance to her that he hadn’t noticed until that very second, probably because he hadn’t seen her clearly without the dark glasses she wore. But the moment he looked into her eyes, he understood the reason for his fascination with her.

The complication didn’t help his situation one bit. A fluke of nature had just ensured her survival. To end her life would be like killing his beloved Mary and losing her all over again. A sudden wave of pain rendered him helpless. Centuries had passed since he’d last felt her loss so deeply.

Bane considered leaving the island for a few days until their trip was over. If they found his home, he would simply move elsewhere. What had seemed like an insufferable intrusion into his life was suddenly nothing more than a minor inconvenience when compared to the idea of killing this woman.

But he didn’t want to leave. Not now.

The couple swam in the sea for a few minutes before taking a light breakfast of fruit and a bagel. Amber made coffee for their flasks as David got dressed then he filled a small backpack with supplies while he waited for her. Bane took in every detail of their routine, looking for clues to their personalities. The man was sloppy and relaxed whereas she cleaned everything more than once, like she couldn’t be sure she’d done it right the first time. Amber seemed nervous and self-doubting despite her confident façade.

They set out from camp before the sun had moved around the island, casting its rays through the maze of branches to illuminate the forest below. Bane climbed higher, watching their progress, some of his tension abating as he saw them head out in a direction that would keep them away from his house. They wore similar clothing to the previous day, save for the rain jacket Amber had knotted around her waist. David seemed less concerned with any possible change in the weather. Bane looked out across a cerulean sky, towards the clouds bubbling up on the far horizon, doubting she could have seen them yet. Maybe she liked to be prepared.

Within a few hours, Bane felt sure they had no intention of going too far from camp on their first morning. Reclining against the trunk of the tree and taking the opportunity to close his eyes to shield them against the reflected glare of the harsh morning sun, he passed the time by eavesdropping on their conversations—one in particular.

 
“So, see any bears in the night?” David teased, reaching out and tucking a stray strand of auburn hair behind Amber’s ear.

She swatted him away. “Don’t keep patronising me. I’m not some silly little girl afraid of the big outdoors. I know there was something out there.”

“Hey, you were the one who mentioned bears.” The sullen tone in David’s voice drew Bane’s attention.

Amber grimaced. “I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that I felt something watching us, something large. Bears were all I could think of that would be big enough.”

“Even if it had been one—which it wasn’t,” he grinned, “it wouldn’t have approached us. You know it would only have been looking for food. Why were you so afraid?”

Amber frowned as she flushed pink. “I really don’t know—but don’t you think it’s strange that we haven’t seen any wildlife at all besides a few birds? Why doesn’t the island have any of the usual visiting wildlife? Besides a few pelagic birds, we’ve seen nothing at all. There’s not a single seal or a porpoise playing in the water as they do everywhere else along the coastline. That’s weird…isn’t it?”

 
She stared up at David with wide, concerned eyes. For once, her companion seemed in tune with her mood. “Yes, it’s weird but not unheard of. You really were afraid, weren’t you?”

She nodded. “So afraid, I lay in a cold sweat for God knows how long after you’d fallen asleep.” Her voice became so quiet and bleak that Bane had to watch her mouth to be sure of her words. “I haven’t had night terrors like that in years.”

“Hey, you’re safe with me. I’m a big guy. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Bane snorted at his arrogance. If David had even the slightest idea of the very real danger they were in, he would never have let Amber stay on the island. She smiled weakly in response, seemingly not feeling too reassured by David’s reckless boast.

Bane studied Amber closely over the next couple of hours. She had an air of vulnerability around her despite the cool front she put on for her colleague. The dark circles under her wide green eyes could have been due to the restless night Bane had given her, but they looked to be more permanent. Every once in a while, her hands shook as she performed the most mundane of tasks and she blew out constant frustrated breaths as she struggled with whatever she attempted to do. Her demeanour didn’t match that of a woman who would organise and manage a trip to an uninhabited island and feel confident enough to lead the staff she’d brought along. People as nervous as Amber appeared to be, usually stayed at home, hiding behind four walls. Something had happened to her, Bane surmised, something that threatened to change her forever if she let it.

He turned away to doze against the tree again, closing his eyes and his mind to her troubles. He had enough of his own.

Bane woke with a jolt a little while later and guessed he hadn’t been asleep long. The shadows on the ground had not moved but a few inches since he’d last checked, and Amber and David were where he’d seem them last.

A glistening sheen of sweat covered her brow as the effects of both the building heat of the morning and her apparently frail emotional state began to take their toll. The imbecile with her seemed oblivious to the struggles of his colleague and Bane had to fight the desire to leap to her side and urge her to rest a while.

Damnation!
The woman had got under his skin, maybe just because of her resemblance to Mary, but he couldn’t be sure. Bane cast a critical eye over Amber, assessing her with the type of cold appraisal he had once employed as a slave owner back in Georgia many, many lifetimes ago. Emotion played no part in his assessment of what he had considered to be no more than livestock back then. He had torn apart families with a callous disregard for their dignity or happiness in a way that appalled him when he thought of it now. But regardless of his shame at the man he had once been, he retained the skill of taking the measure of a person in one, all encompassing glance and had used the technique often, to gain an advantage over an opponent.