From the Ashes (Force of Nature Book 1) (18 page)

“Are we going somewhere?” I asked, feigning casualness. In truth, I felt little other than impending doom as he continued toward me.

“Who are you, Piper?”

“What?”

“Who. Are. You?” he repeated, leaning in close to me as he did.

“You know who I am, Merc. You're not making any sense right now.”

“I know what you pretend to be, and you are incredibly good at it. You fooled everyone, including me—a task never before accomplished. You should be proud of your performance. I'm sure he is as well.”

“He?” I asked, abandoning my plan to try and wriggle my way out of the situation. Confusion had overtaken me at that point, blurring my judgment. “Who are you talking about?”

He tilted his head to the side in mocking, staring at me as though he were unsure what to do about my perceived insubordination. Then he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me toward him, shoving his face into mine.

“This ends now. Tonight,” he proclaimed. His eyes were wide and wild. It was then that I realized I was in far more trouble than I'd ever bargained for. If I could not appeal to the man behind the insanity, I wouldn't have to worry about being bonded to a vampire who may or may not love me.

I would be dead.

“Something is wrong,” I cried, beseeching him to see what was so plainly obvious to me. He had come unhinged again. “I don't know what to do, Merc. What to say. I want to help you, but all I seem to do is enrage you. Maybe somebody can get through to you—stop this from getting worse. But somebody has to do something or—” I cut off the obvious end to my statement, not wanting to anger him further, but it was too late. I'd already said too much. He knew the direction my sentiment was headed in. The writing was on the wall.

“Or what?” he asked calmly, squeezing my arm so hard that I gasped.

“I just want to help you, Merc,” I pleaded, tears welling in my eyes for the second time that night. “The boys...Kat...they all say that this isn't normal. That you shouldn't be able to act this way with me. Not to your mate—your chosen one. It's obviously not my blood that's causing it. We need to figure out what's going on here before it's too late.”

He cocked his head slowly, scrutinizing me with a piercing glance.

“Too late? Too late for what?”

“For us,” I whispered, turning my bleary eyes to him.

“Our bond is forever, Piper, or did you not understand that?”

“I did. I do,” I replied, shying away from the weight of his stare.

“No,” he countered. “I don't think you do. You see, if you did, you wouldn't be acting as if there were a door number two. A plan B. Because there isn't, Piper. It is us or it is death. And with knowing what I now know...”

His words trailed off, only further reinforcing my greatest fear.

“We don't need a plan B, Merc. That's what I'm trying to tell you. But there's something wrong, and it's not me. I know you think it is, but it isn't. It's something else entirely. Don't you see that? Don't you feel it? I may not have much experience with love, but I'm positive that you and I shared something close to it when we were bonded. What we have now—this—this isn't it. Living in constant fear of saying or doing or being the wrong thing. Walking on eggshells so as not to upset you, only to find out that my very being does just that. I'm always wondering if I'm going to get Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde, Merc. Where's the being that saved me from the warlocks? The one that kept my pain at bay while I lay wounded—possibly dying—downstairs? The one that stepped up and claimed me as his in the face of both the scrutiny of his own kind and the disapproval of his own king? That is the man I started to fall in love with. That is the man I want to love forever,” I said, pleading with him while the tears I had pent up streamed down my face. “Give him back to me. Please...give him back. I know he's in there somewhere. Don't let the darkness take you. Please. For me...”

For a second, the briefest moment, I saw his expression soften. I was getting through to him. I dared to lean closer to him, lifting my hands to his face with great reservation. It was now or never. I had to lay it all out for him.

“Maybe there is someone that can help us,” I whispered, my shaking hand just about to cup his cheek. “Maybe if we go to the king, he will know what to—”

“NO!” he roared, swinging his arm wildly. The force that he backhanded me with sent me across the entire living room to crash into the bookcase against the far wall. The sensation I felt in my back as I connected with it shot through me like lightning, down my legs to my feet. I crumpled to the ground, temporarily paralyzed. I could not move my legs. “You will never report back to him, do you hear me?” he shouted, striding across the room like a man possessed. A man bent on silencing me.

With a few more blows like the one he'd just delivered, it wouldn't take long for him to accomplish that.

“Merc!” I cried out, trying to drag my body across the floor and escape, but it was no use. He easily caught me.

“You've been talking with them, haven't you? Conspiring against me?” he spat, accusing me of crimes I neither understood nor had committed. Grabbing me by the collar of my shirt, he hauled me up to my limp feet, my body dangling only inches from his face. “I will not be sent back. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

“I don't know what you're talking about!” I screamed in frustration between my sobs. The feeling was slowly coming back to my legs, but the sensation gained was unwelcome to say the least. It felt like fire.

“You're no different than the rest of them,” he continued, ignoring me. “I see you for what you are now, Piper. I
see
you...”

“See what? That I wanted to love you? To help you?”

“Ha!” he scoffed. “You even admit it now.”

“Admit what? You're not making any sense.”

“You speak in past tense.
Wanted to love
,” he ranted, shaking me like a rag doll in front of him. “You're a liar. You tried to play me. He sent you to do that, didn't he? DIDN'T HE?”

“I don't understand,” I whimpered, wishing that someone would come home to find us soon. Before Merc killed me.

“Well it hardly matters now,” he said, his voice suddenly calm and controlled. His ability to switch from rage to impassivity was beyond unnerving. “The why never does. Only the who and the how.” He pulled my face so close to his that I could barely make out his features clearly. “And I will find out both of those answers once you're dead.”

Again my body went flying across the room, this time crashing through the glass-topped table in the corner. The sharp, shattered pieces bit into my skin as I fell upon them. One must have cut more deeply than the others, for I soon found myself lying in an ever-expanding pool of blood.

There are moments in life when you see things with perfect clarity—moments when you choose to define who and what you are. And then there are those that define things for you. Lying on the floor, bleeding to death, I realized that fate had interceded on my behalf. It was all very simple, really: stay and be the weakling I had always been told I was. Stay and let my life slowly drain from me, never bothering to fight—a natural born victim. Or, in a rare act of defiance and courage, I could force myself to get up and leave. Force myself to quiet the voices in my head telling me it would all be better tomorrow. But I was no fool.

If I stayed, tomorrow would never come.

Tick tock, Piper. Tick tock
.

It was then that I could hear the fighting in the distance. The voices. The others had returned home and come to my aid. I could hear the ruckus around me as they tried to restrain him. Now was my moment. This was my chance. With a surge of adrenaline, I pushed myself off the blood-soaked floor and staggered on barely functioning legs toward the doorway that led to the hall. I needed to get to my room. I needed provisions.

I would not be returning to the mansion again. Ever.

His angered roar chased me down the corridor, spurring me on. I did not know how long the others could subdue him. My failing body was sluggish and uncoordinated from blood loss and a concussion, but I managed to get to my bedroom with considerable speed—my will to live was stronger than I'd thought. I threw open the heavy wooden door and made my way inside. I took only seconds to throw what I could find into a duffel bag: clothes, shoes, a jacket. Then I grabbed my purse and fled.

I tripped just as I rounded the top of the staircase and rolled down the first few steps before I managed to stop myself and slide down the rest in a more controlled fashion. I was almost to the security door. Almost to safety.

“Piper!” he screamed after me. I shuddered instinctively. Hazarding a glance over my shoulder as I tried to punch in the code to unlock the front entrance, I found him looming at the top of the staircase. Four enforcers were trying hard to hold him back, but they were losing. Even against their combined power, he pushed forward after me.

There would be no stopping him.

My hands shook and my vision blurred from the blood dripping into my eyes, both interfering with my ability to type in the code. With his heavy footfalls echoing through the grand foyer, I tried repeatedly to press the proper buttons to no avail. My attempt to live was proving futile; he was closing in.

With only seconds to spare, I managed to unlock the main security door. I could hear his straining breaths approaching as I threw it open, turning to slam it closed behind me. Once I was through, I was free, if only for a moment. The sun would soon be rising. Once that happened, he couldn't follow, and he knew it. He'd have to wait for nightfall to come after me.

And by then I'd be long gone.

I leaned back against the solid metal door, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I needed to get outside, out of the tiny room that separated the vampires from the impending light. Outside, I could heal. Once healed, I could leave.

With ever-weakening steps, I schlepped my way to my final obstacle: the front door. Swinging it open with ease, I fell to the concrete and crawled away from the mansion. By that point, I could barely lift myself off the ground. But I needed nature—the elements—if I had any chance at repairing what had been damaged. And so I pressed on until I felt the familiar touch of newly cut grass beneath me. Face down, I collapsed to the lawn, my mind fading as I did.

“Help me,” I whispered to the Earth as darkness overtook me.

And help me, it did.

Part Two:

AFTER

13

Every day started the same for me: a healthy sense of dread eating away somewhere deep inside of me. It had ever since I’d broken through the front door of the enforcers’ mansion, bloody and battered, fleeing for my life. I knew Merc was coming for me. I could see the determination in his eyes when the boys had restrained him. It haunted my dreams.

I was his—there would be no turning back.

From the second I’d escaped, I had been on the run. It had taken me nearly two weeks, thousands of miles, a dwindling supply of cash, and one long ferry ride from Seattle to finally arrive in Alaska—my new temporary home. During that time, I’d slept only when I could no longer keep my eyes open. And always during the day: never the nighttime. Night necessitated my every attention.

That was when they would be hunting for me.

Without a passport, I had few places to escape to. Places where someone like me could easily go unnoticed. So I decided one day, as I wound through the back roads of South Dakota in a stolen vehicle, that northern Alaska's short summer nights would be an excellent option. I planned to stay there until I could find someone to make some fake IDs and a passport. The Last Frontier would be where I started over.

After arriving, it had taken another solid day of driving to get to the middle of nowhere, but the sun was still in the sky when I arrived at the mountain cabin. It didn't take long to unpack my dubiously acquired Jeep, and once I'd gotten myself somewhat settled in, I decided to go out and explore my surroundings while there was still sunlight. It was late, but northern Alaska provided me a great advantage in that realm. It stayed light far into the hours that would have been dark in New York. I was banking on this detail to keep me safe until I could get the materials necessary to leave the country. To go on the run on a grander scale.

Though the area I was in was remote, there appeared to be some abandoned logging trails and roads nearby, so I decided to go for a run along them and see where they took me. I needed to have multiple escape routes if necessary. I had to give myself a fighting chance in case Merc ever found me.

The temperature was warmer than I expected, so I donned my running capris and tank top with a lightweight jacket tied around my waist just in case it got cooler in the shaded areas of the trails. The scenery was breathtaking: all towering coniferous trees so wide through the trunks that they had to have been hundreds of years old. It seemed such a shame that someone had slashed through the area to harvest them.

The graveyard of stumps made my heart heavy.

I turned away from it, deciding to go further up through the woods. The pine-laden air smelled glorious, lifting my spirits as I ran uphill, eventually stopping at a ledge overlooking a small waterfall and river. It was stunning.