Forsaken (33 page)

Roc watched Levi pace along the side of the Schmidt farmhouse. All of the animals had been secured in the barn. The Schmidt family was in their house. Only Roc and Levi were out here freezing their butts off. What was the blasted man waiting for? He tried to wrap his brain around the man's thinking…that Amish thinking.

It is God's will.

We must trust in the Almighty.

It will all work according to His will.

But faith and trust had never come easily to Roc. What was he supposed to trust in as a kid? That Daddy wouldn't lick him with a belt? That the old man wouldn't push his mom around? That she would finally stand up to her husband?

She
had prayed. The beads on her rosary were worn, the paint on the wooden beads long since rubbed away. She would sit in her chair and stare out the front window of their run-down house, all the while clicking those beads, her lips moving in the rhythm of the prayers. Obviously the saints weren't listening because nothing ever changed. She gave Roc a St. Christopher medal to wear around his neck when he was just a kid, then a St. Michael medal when he became a cop. But he didn't believe in superstitions and hocus pocus, Hail Mary and holy water.

He didn't believe in anything. Not anymore.

But then he had seen evil, not like from one of those slasher movies, not kids dressed in goth style or whatever they called it these days. No, he'd seen pure, undiluted evil, minus all the façades and illusions. He'd looked into its black heart.

Evil existed. But what about the yin of that yang? Was there a polar opposite, a good to counter the bad, a holy to the unholy? Imagining that there was some benevolent all-good creator was much more difficult for Roc to comprehend.
That
God had never rescued or saved his mother. And God certainly hadn't saved Emma.

Once more he clamped down on the emotions that rose up inside him, hot and fierce with volcanic intensity. His jaw tightened. But he couldn't hold back the explosion of emotion, and his fist smacked a post. Again and again. Then he grabbed the post and held on to it as he punched his emotions back down. He focused on his stinging knuckles, the grains of wood, the solidness of the post. It took every bit of focus to restrain the emotions. He wouldn't succumb to them. He couldn't. He had something more important to do.

He pushed away from the barn and stalked toward Levi. “What are you doing?”

The Amish man whirled around, his gaze peaceful and calm. Unrattled. But he should be rattled. He should be scared. Roc wanted to shake him, shake some sense or fear into him.

“What are you doing?” Roc's tone sharpened.

“Praying. Thinking. Waiting.”

“All the praying in the world isn't gonna stop this showdown. Get the girl. We'll follow her, keep her in sight, and then when Akiva approaches, we'll at least have a chance.”

“I will not put her in harm's way. How can you stop Jacob from harming her?”

“I have a theory.”

“A theory?” Levi crossed his arms over his chest. “I am supposed to put her life on the line for a theory?”

“Okay, look, the bloodsuckers can disappear. Have you noticed?”

Levi glanced sideways, as if remembering, and gave a slight nod. “When Jacob first changed…when I found him…that's what happened. He just vanished. I couldn't understand or—”

“Exactly.” Roc nodded. “I don't know how they do it, but I do know that they can't vanish if something has a hold on them. So if you're touching them, they can't do their disappearing act. If they're bound, chained, even by a rope, they can't disappear.”

“Roc,” Levi's voice dipped low as he said, “I do not want Jacob harmed.”

Roc cursed. “Of course you don't. But then you haven't seen what he's done. Maybe then you'd change your mind.”

“I have seen plenty, but I won't—”

“It's not your choice. You don't have to do anything. I'll take care of him. So get the girl. Where is she?”

“Sleeping. Tonight is not the night for this…showdown. Go on home, Roc, or to wherever you are staying. At the boarding house? I will watch for anything.”

“And then what? What would you do?”

“Whatever I have to do.”

“Would you really?” Roc stood less than a foot away from Levi, the heat of his breath frosting the air between them. “We should set a trap for Akiva. It's the only way.”

“I will not use Hannah as bait.”

“Who would you use then? Who else…who else would he come for?” Roc placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. “This is our one chance, our only opportunity. We will protect her, I promise you that. But it is the only way. We must lure Akiva to us, then we can make sure he doesn't bother Hannah or anyone else again.”

“I will not set my brother up to be murdered.”

“
He
is the murderer.” The words hissed through Roc's teeth. “Don't you get it?”

Levi stepped away from Roc, rubbed a hand along his neck. Without looking at Roc, he gave a confirming nod. “I will help you.”

“It's the only way, my man. The only way.”

Akiva held out a hand toward Hannah.

It was a compulsion that she couldn't seem to resist. Trembling, she laid her palm against his. Slowly, his fingers folded over hers. “Hannah, you can call me Jacob if that feels more comfortable.”

“Wh-why did you change your name?”

He stared down at their fingers pressed against each other. “Because I changed. Irrevocably. And yet, a part of Jacob still lives here.” He touched the back of her hand to his chest. “That's the love Jacob had for you. And that I have now.”

“Jacob…” She tasted the name on her tongue, a name that she had loved for so long, and yet what was once sweet had turned sour.

She stared at his chest and wondered if there really was a part of Jacob inside him, buried deep. She couldn't imagine the boy she'd known and loved killing someone or doing any of the things Roc accused him of. But then there was the wound he'd had when he first came to her in the cemetery, a serious wound. She locked gazes with the man who had deceived her, a man she no longer recognized, knew, or trusted. “How did you get hurt?”

He shrugged. “It was nothing. It is gone.”

“But—”

“Do you know how people stared at us in our plain clothes? Staring at the Amish with curiosity? Some even made fun of us.”

She nodded, knowing the looks like they were caged animals in a zoo, as visitors filed by, trying to peer into their lives. Thankfully most of her encounters with the
English
had been pleasant, but she had heard stories of far worse encounters. She didn't understand the fascination
Englishers
had about their plain lives. They were simply plain. What was interesting about that? Was it that the
Englishers
were so dissatisfied with their own busy lives? Or was it just a passing fancy for most? “But,” she said, “what does that have to do with your wound? Did some tourist hurt you?”

“No, sweet Hannah. There are some who hate you, just because you are Amish, just because you stand for what you believe and live it out each day. Your ancestors were tortured and killed because of their beliefs. Outsiders did not understand your faith. Even today, there are those out there who would harm you if given the chance. They fear you, what you stand for, what you are, because it might cause them to make some sacrifice that is normal in your life.

“And it is the same for me now. Because I am different.” His hand smoothed over the leather jacket covering his chest. “And there are some who hate me because of that. Some fear me. Some would cause me harm.”

“And that's what happened? Someone tried to hurt you?”

He nodded. “But it is not easy to fatally wound me.” He chuckled. “And you will be strong like me too. You do not have to worry. I will protect you.”

“That is not—”

“Come with me.” His voice took on a more commanding tone. “Now.”

She felt the tension in his hand, the way it tightened possessively on hers, and she resisted, tired to pull out of his grasp. “What about Josef? He's hurt. I helped you when you were injured, now we must help him.”

His grip tightened, pinching down on her fingers, clamping down hard on her hand. Pain shot up her arm. There was no escape.

She glanced over her shoulder; there was no one there to help her. For the first time, she realized he might not let her go. Ever.

“Josef is here to help you.” He tucked her hand against his chest and pulled her closer. “The change is not so painful. I will be gentle and help you through it. Do you trust me, Hannah?”

But it was not Jacob she saw anymore. It was Akiva. A bloodsucker, as Roc called him. A vampire. A killer. The evidence was in the blood smeared across his cheek and spotting the collar of his shirt.

A trembling rocked through her, unforgiveable and unrelenting. Roc had been right. She had been naïve. And Levi…How could she ever pit brother against brother? And yet, had she already? She would die if harm came to Levi, or anyone else, because of her poor decisions. She had opened herself to all of this, to Akiva's…and even Jacob's influence. It was her fault. And she would pay the price, even if it was with her life.

Alone and now grateful for that, she would have to end it herself, or at least put a wall between brothers so that Levi would never be harmed.

“W-why,” she asked, “did you lie to me?”

His features remained unchanged, and yet there was a subtle shift, a tightening about the eyes and mouth. “About what?”

“About what happened the day I almost drowned.”

He laughed. “What did Levi tell you? Some fabrication?”

Her brow furrowed. “Levi was the only one who was there. Wasn't he?”

Akiva's mouth twisted. “Hannah, you're going to believe Levi? How do you know that what Levi told you is the truth?”

“He
never
lied to me.”

“Levi told you I was dead.”

A sudden rush of tears filled her eyes, and the bottled emotions from so long ago bubbled up inside of her, tightening her throat. “You promised…before you left for New Orleans that nothing would change between us. But it did.” Her voice cracked, then grew stronger. “You changed. Even before all of this. I knew it then. There was something different about you.”

He smiled. “It's that difference you always loved. And you can love the new change too.”

She shook her head, trying to deny the truth of his words, but she couldn't escape it. She'd loved Jacob because he wasn't like all the other boys. He wasn't plain. And yet, it was the solidity of plainness that drew her to Levi now, made her love him, and want to be with him forever. “It was a darkness that I didn't understand at the time. But I see it now. I see this darkness in you.”

His top lip flirted with a sneer. “So you have chosen Levi?”

She met his gaze with her own challenge. “You said
you
found me in the creek. Alone. You pulled me from the water. You breathed life back into me. Yet, I remember you holding me, that your clothes were dry. Why? Because you lied. Again.”

His face twisted and knotted into something as solid and hard as anger. Suddenly she was flying back through the air, shoved backward by Akiva with only a second to feel the rush of air beneath her before she slammed into a gravestone and darkness caught her in its arms.

The pebble hit the window squarely and pinged off of it, falling back and crashing into the dogwood bush. Leaves crunched, tracking the pebble's fall until it lay silent in the dirt. Levi waited, staring up at the window. The green shade didn't lift or move. He counted slowly to ten, then bent, picked up another pebble off the ground, and aimed again. This time the collision of rock and glass sounded louder.
That should do it. That should wake Hannah. Or the dead.

He had to speak to her. He had to convince her of Roc's plan. She had to see that it was the only way for any peace or security.

After another count of ten, he picked up another pebble, but this time he caught movement at the upstairs window. The shade rippled as the corner pulled upward. Only a black triangle came into view. It was too dark to see Hannah but she must have seen him. He tossed the pebble and caught it against his palm. She would come to the back door now and meet him.

Tossing the pebble into the bushes, he walked up the back steps and waited. The minutes seemed to pass very slowly. Very slowly indeed. He paced a few steps along the porch, turned and retraced his steps.

Then the back door squeaked and the door opened. Levi whirled around but Hannah wasn't the one standing in the doorway. It was Katie. The young girl was wearing her nightclothes and a sleepy expression. Her long hair had been hastily pulled up and covered by her
kapp
. “Levi Fisher! What are you doing here? I thought—”

“Katie, go wake Hannah. I must speak to her.”

“That's what I'm trying to tell you. I thought she was already with you. She left a while ago.”

“She left?” His heart missed a beat. “Where'd she go?”

“Now how should I know that?”

Panic sliced through whatever resolve Levi had.

Katie stepped out onto the porch, curling her bare toes under and shivering. “What's wrong, Levi?”

“Nothing. Go on back to bed. I'll find Hannah and make sure she gets home safely.”

If it was the last thing he ever did.

Akiva stood over Hannah. She was not dead, yet she wasn't awake either. He fisted his hands in a poor attempt to curtail his anger. He hadn't meant to harm her. And yet, he'd had enough. “You are not leaving me. I cannot…
will not
live without you.”

He whirled away from her. It was time for this foolishness to end.
Enough!
His patience snapped like a winter twig. She would adjust to her new life the way he had.

When she awoke, he would make the transition. But she needed to be awake. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her over to the half-dead Amish man. Camille was beside him, her mouth wet from sampling Josef's blood.

“Get away from him,” Akiva growled at her. “I don't want him dead yet.”

“There is still plenty. For you. For her.” Camille licked her lips suggestively, her gaze shifting toward Hannah's face. “Having trouble with your lover, Akiva?” Her Caribbean accent, melodic and antiquated, was thick with memories of her ancestors and their rituals.

Akiva had watched her lure in unsuspecting victims and felt the tug of her allure himself. In ancient times, stories of old, the siren song of mermaids attempted to distract men from their missions, and Camille's soothing voice attempted to distract him now.

“Nothing I cannot handle.”

“Oh, but I know how to handle the reluctant ones. You were once reluctant if you remember. I could help you with her.” She leapt forward and landed on the ground so softly no animal could have heard it. She had the stealth of a seasoned predator. “If you want, I could hold her for you. Tilt her head just so. Of course, I would not dare interfere with your—”

“I don't need your help.” He knelt and set Hannah on the ground, her body curling instinctively inward from the cold, but still her features were relaxed. With the tip of his finger, he brushed a loose hair from her forehead. Having Camille here was not in his plan and aggravation shifted inside him because he didn't know how to make her leave.

“You are more than capable.” Camille brushed her hair off her shoulder, revealing her sleek neck. “I have watched you, Akiva.” Her laughter had a seductive lilt. “You have grown strong in your new life. You have not languished and suffered as some do. You are more than capable of so many things.” Her gaze dipped low. “But the giving of life…well, this is a fragile matter, no?”

“You should know about that.”

Her smile spread as her fingers traced her own neck and rested along her plunging neckline, toying with the voodoo charm she always wore. “Do you simply want nourishment? Or to transform her?”

His gaze shifted toward Hannah's softly parted lips, then he jerked his focus back to Camille. Trust, if it existed between them, was fragile at best. “It is none of your business.”

“Oh, but it is,
ma cherie
. You have spent so much of your time running, hiding, staying off by yourself, that you have not learned there are rules.” She moved a step closer, her body like liquid silver. “Do you think I alone changed you? I had to ask permission.”

“Of whom?”

“Of the leaders.” She walked over to a grave marker and sat on it, crossing her legs seductively. “You come from a life of rules, do you not? The Amish have rules. They are under a law. What is it called?”

“The
Ordnung
.”

“Yes, precisely. Rules must be followed, no? We chose you, Akiva. You must—”

“I don't want any part of your group.”

“You've always been an outsider, a rebel, haven't you?” She clasped her hands together. She wore rings on almost every finger. “And what has it done for you? You are alone still. Isolated. No wonder you are seeking a mate of your own choosing. But there are many of us to choose from. Many.” She stroked her own hand. “If you are not happy—”

“I know what I want, whom I want.”

He carefully angled his body between Hannah and Camille, not giving the other vampire an opportunity.

“There are consequences for going outside of the law,” she warned.

“There is no law. We make our own rules.”

Camille shook her head, causing her long hair to dance about her shoulders. “Do you think we can have new vampires running around all over the place? There would soon be no humans left. How would we survive then? These things must be regulated. It is the only way.” Slowly, she stood and moved toward him. She drew a finger along his shoulder. “But do not despair. I can take care of this problem for you.” She dipped her chin low, and her dark eyes grew large. “Is this what you wish, Akiva?”

“I don't know!” His voice boomed, carrying the force of his frustration and regret. He'd lost his temper with Hannah, and he'd hurt her. He regretted his reaction but he also wouldn't be thwarted; he wouldn't lose her. Not again. But now, she'd never choose him. Not if she had the choice. But if he changed her, then she would come to understand and eventually forgive him. But doubts clawed at him. “I don't know what to do.”

“Of course not.” Camille sidled up to him. “Let me help you. It is my job as your guardian.”

“Why didn't I know about any rule or a governing body?”

“You never asked. You have hidden yourself from us. If you had quit running, if you had become a part of us, you would have been trained properly.”

“By you?” His words snaked outward with a sneer.

“Yes, of course.” She looped an arm around his neck, toyed with the hair at his nape. “I will help you the way I have always helped you.”