Dark Angel; The Chosen; Soulmate (57 page)

He said it almost mockingly, but Hannah caught an odd glistening in his eyes.

“You're like her, you know,” he added abruptly. “Like my—like Mary-Lynnette. You're both… wise.”

Before Hannah could think of something to say to that, he nodded to her, straightened up, and went back into the hallway, whistling softly through his teeth.

Hannah stood alone in the dim room. For some reason, she felt better suddenly. More optimistic about the future.

I think I'll be able to sleep tonight. And tomorrow, maybe Thierry will be here.

She clamped down hard on the rush of hope that filled her at the thought. Hope… and concern. After all she'd said to him, she couldn't be absolutely sure how Thierry would receive her.

What if he doesn't want me after all?

Don't be silly. Don't
think
about it. Go outside and get a breath of air, and then go to bed.

Later, of course, she realized just how stupid she had been. She should have known that getting a breath of fresh air only led to one thing in her life.

But at the moment it seemed like a good idea. Lupe had warned her not to open any outside doors—but the French doors only led to a second-floor balcony overlooking the backyard. Hannah opened them and stepped out.

Nice, she thought. The air was just cool enough to be pleasant.

From here she could look across dark stretches of grass to flood-lit palm trees and softly splashing fountains. Although she couldn't see Thierry's people, she knew they were out there, stationed around the grounds, watching and waiting. Guarding her. It made her feel safe.

Nothing can get to the house with them around it, she thought. I can sleep just fine.

She was about to turn and go back inside when she heard the scratching.

It came from above her. From the roof. She glanced up and got the shock of this particular lifetime.

There was a bat hanging from the roof.

A bat. A
bat.

A huge bat. Upside down. Its leathery black wings were wrapped around it and its small red eyes shone at her with reflected light.

Wild thoughts tumbled through Hannah's mind, all in a fraction of an instant. Maybe it's a decoration… no, idiot, it's
alive.
Maybe it's somebody to guard me. God, maybe it's
Thierry.
…

But all the while, she knew. And when the instant of paralysis passed and she could command her body again, she sucked in a deep breath to scream an alarm.

She never got the chance to make a sound. With a noise
like an umbrella opening, the bat unfolded its wings suddenly, displaying an amazingly large span of black membrane.

At the same moment something like sheet lightning seemed to hit Hannah, a blinding surge of pure mental energy. She saw stars, and then everything faded to darkness.

Something hurt.

My head, Hannah thought slowly. And my back.

In fact, she hurt all over. And she was blind—or she had her eyes shut. She tried to open them and nothing changed. She could feel herself blinking, but she could only see one thing.

Blackness. Utter, complete blackness.

She realized then that she'd never seen real darkness before. In her bedroom at night there was always some diffused light showing at the top of her curtains. Even outdoors there was always moonlight or starlight, or if it were cloudy, the reflection of human lights, however faint.

This was different. This was
solid
darkness. Hannah imagined she could feel it pressing against her face, weighing down on her body. And no matter how wide she opened her eyes or how fixedly she stared, she couldn't see even the slightest glimmer breaking it

I will not panic, she told herself.

But it was hard. She was fighting an instinctive fear, hardwired into the brain since before the Stone Age. All humans panicked in complete blackness.

Just breathe, she told herself firmly.
Breathe.
Okay. Now. You've got to get out of here. First things first. Are you hurt?

She couldn't tell. She had to shut her eyes in order to sense her own body. As she did, she realized that she was sitting up, instinctively huddling into herself to keep safe from the darkness.

Okay. I don't think you're hurt. Let's try standing up. Very slowly.

That was when the real shock came.

She couldn't stand up.

She
couldn't.

She could move her arms and even her legs. But when she tried to lift her body, even to shift position slightly, something bit into her waist, keeping her immobile.

With a crawling feeling of horror, Hannah put her hands to her waist and felt the rough texture of rope.

I'm tied. I'm
tied.
…

There was something hard against her back. A tree? Her hands flew to feel it. No, not a tree—too regular. Tall, but squarish. A post of some kind.

The rope seemed to be wound many times around her waist, tightly enough that it constricted her breathing a little. It bound her securely to the post. And then it fastened above or far behind her somewhere—she couldn't find any knots with her fingers.

It felt like very strong, very sturdy rope. Hannah knew
without question that she wasn't going to be able to wiggle out of it or untie it.

The post seemed very sturdy, too. The ground under Hannah was dirt and rock.

I'm alone, she thought slowly. She could hear her own gasping breath. I'm all alone… and I'm tied here in the dark. I can't move.
I can't get away.

Maya put me here. She left me to die all alone in the dark.

For a while, then, Hannah simply lost control. She screamed for help and heard her voice echo oddly. She pulled and twisted at the rope with her fingers until her fingertips were raw. She threw her whole body from one side to the other, trying to loosen the rope or the post, until the pain in her waist made her stop. And finally she gave in to the galloping fear inside her and sobbed out loud.

She had never, ever, felt so desolate and alone.

In the end, though, she cried herself out. And when she'd gasped to a stop, she found that she could think a little.

Listen, girl. You've got to get a grip. You've got to help yourself, because there's nobody else to do it.

It wasn't the cool wind voice or even the crystal voice—because they were both just part of her now. It was Hannah's own mental voice. She had accepted all her past selves and their experiences, and in return she felt she could call on at least some of their wisdom.

Okay, she thought grimly. No more crying. Think. What can you tell about your situation?

I'm not out in the open. I know because there's no light at all and because of the way my voice echoed. I'm in a big… room or something. It's got a high ceiling. And the floor is rock.

Good. Okay, do you hear anything else?

Hannah listened. It was hard to concentrate on the silence around her—it made her own breathing and heartbeat seem terrifyingly loud. She could feel her nerves stretch and fray… but she held on, ignoring her own noises and trying to reach out into the darkness with her ears.

Then she heard it. Very far away, a sound like a faucet dripping slowly.

What the hell? I'm in a big black room with a rock floor and a leaky faucet.

Shut up. Keep concentrating. What do you smell?

Hannah sniffed. That didn't work, so she took long breaths through her nose, ignoring the pain as her midsection pressed against the rope.

It's musty in here. Dank. It smells damp and cold.

In fact, it was very cold. Her panic had kept her warm before, but now she realized that her fingers were icy and her arms and legs were stiff.

Okay, so what have we got? I'm in a big black
refrigerated
room with a high ceiling and a stone floor. And it's musty and damp.

A cellar? A cellar without windows?

But she was just fooling herself. She knew. The skin of her face seemed to sense the pressure of tons of rock above her. Her ears told her that that musical dripping was water on rock, very far away. Her nose told her that she wasn't in any building. And her fingers could feel the natural irregularity of the ground underneath her.

She didn't want to believe it. But the knowledge crowded in on her, inescapable.

I'm in a cave.

A cave or a cavern. Anyway, I'm
inside
the earth. God knows how deep inside. Deep enough and far enough that I can't see any light from an entrance or vent hole.

Very
deep inside, her heart told her.

She was in the loneliest place in the world. And she was going to die here.

Hannah had never had claustrophobia before. But now she couldn't help feeling that the mass of rock around and above her was trying to crush her. It could fall in at any minute, she thought. She felt a physical pressure, as if she were at the bottom of the ocean. She began to have trouble breathing.

She had to get her mind off it. She
refused
to turn into that screaming, gibbering thing in the darkness again. Worse than the thought of dying was the thought of going insane down here.

Think about Thierry. When he finds out you're missing he'll start looking for you. You
know
that. And he won't give up until he finds you.

But I'll be dead by then, she thought involuntarily.

This time, instead of fear, the idea of her death brought a strange poignant loneliness.

Another life where I missed him, she thought. She blinked against tears suddenly. Oh, God. Great.

It's so
hard.
So hard to keep hoping that someday it's going to work out. But I'll meet him again in my next life. And maybe I won't be so stupid then; I won't fall for Maya's tricks.

It'll be harder for him, I guess. He'll have to wait and get through the years day by day. I'll just go to sleep and eventually wake up somewhere else. And then someday he'll come for me and I'll remember… and then we'll start all over.

I really did try this time, Thierry. I did my best. I didn't mean to mess things up.

Promise me you'll look for me again.

Promise you'll find me. I promise I'll wait for you.

No matter how long it takes.

Hannah shut her eyes, leaning back against the post and almost unconsciously touching the ring he'd given her. Maybe next time she'd remember it.

Suddenly she didn't feel sad or afraid anymore. Just very tired.

Eyes still shut, she grinned weakly. I feel old. Like Mom's always complaining she feels. Ready to turn this old body in and get a new…

The thought broke off and disappeared.

Was that a
noise
?

Hannah found herself sitting up, leaning forward as far as the rope would allow, straining her ears. She thought she'd heard…
yes.
There it was again. A solid echoing sound out in the darkness.

It sounded like footsteps. And it was coming closer.

Yes, yes. I'm rescued, I'm saved. Hannah's heart was pounding so hard that she could hardly breathe to yell. But at last, just as she saw a bobbing point of light in the blackness, she managed to get out a hoarse squawk.

“Thierry? Hello? I'm over here!”

The light kept coming toward her. She could hear the footsteps coming closer.

And there was no answer.

“Thierry…?” Her voice trailed off.

Footsteps. The light was big now. It was a beam, a flashlight. Hannah blinked at it.

Her heart was slowly sinking until it seemed to reach stone.

And then the flashlight was right in front of her. It shone in her face, dazzling her eyes. Another light snapped on, a small camping lantern. Vision rushed back to Hannah, sending information surging to her brain.

But there was no happiness in it. Hannah's entire body was ice cold now, shivering.

Because of course it wasn't Thierry. It was Maya.

I hope I didn't disturb you,” Maya said.

She put down the lantern and what looked like a black backpack. Then she stood with her hands on her hips and looked at Hannah.

I will not cry. I won't give her the satisfaction, Hannah thought.

“I didn't know vampires could really change into bats,” she said.

Maya laughed. She looked beautiful in the pool of lantern light. Her long black hair fell in waves around her, hanging down her back to her hips. Her skin was milky-pale and her eyes looked dark and mysterious. Her laughing mouth was red.

She was wearing designer jeans and high-heeled snakeskin boots. Funny, Hannah had never noticed any of Maya's clothes before. Usually the woman herself was so striking that it was impossible to focus on how she was dressed.

“Not all vampires can shapeshift,” Maya said. “But, then, I'm not like other vampires. I'm the first, my darling. I'm the original. And I have to say I'm getting really sick of
you.
”

The feeling is mutual, Hannah thought. She said, “Then why don't you leave me alone? Why don't you leave me and Thierry alone?”

“Because, then, my sweet pea, I wouldn't
win.
And I have to win.” She looked at Hannah directly, her face oddly serious. “Don't you understand that yet?” she said softly. “I have to win—because I've given up too much to lose. It can't all be for nothing. So winning is all there is.”

Hannah's breath was taken away.

She hadn't expected a coherent answer from Maya… but she'd gotten one. And she did understand. Maya had devoted her life to keeping Hannah and Thierry apart. Her
long
life. Her thousands of years. If she lost at this point, that life became meaningless.

“You don't know how to do anything else,” Hannah whispered slowly, figuring it out.

“Oh, enough of the press conference. I know how to do lots of things—you'll find that out. I'm through fooling around with you, cupcake.”

Hannah ignored the threat—and the insulting endearment. “But it won't do you any good,” she said, genuinely bewildered, as if she and Maya were discussing whether or not to go shopping together. “You're going to kill me, sure, I understand that.
But it won't help you get Thierry. He'll just hate you more… and he'll just wait for me to come back.”