Authors: Luxie Ryder
“You must have been dreaming. You screamed and I came to see what was wrong.”
She rubbed at her eyes. “Oh.”
Bane looked up the book on her lap. He could guess what had caused her nightmares. “I shouldn’t have told you about what happened to me. I scared you.”
She shook her head. “No…it wasn’t you. I dreamt about David.”
Bane fell silent. Amber would tell him if she wanted him to know, and he wasn’t about to make the mistake again of pushing her into talking. When she slid along to make room for him beside her on the sofa, he expected her to share her dream. Instead, she fell silent. Bane lifted the book from her lap and placed it on the floor.
“Find anything interesting?” he asked, gesturing towards the discarded volume and hoping to take the wary look out of her eyes. She had every reason to be afraid of him based on what she’d seen and heard, but he wished she wouldn’t be. He’d heard her laughter and tears after he’d gone to bed. Bane had not gone to comfort her, how could he? He was the one responsible for her torment.
“You had a good life,” she stated, as if she’d just made her mind up about it.
He nodded. “I was luckier than most. Born into money and a pampered childhood followed by a privileged life.”
“Did you ever live at Eden again?”
Eden
. Just hearing the name spoken out loud for the first time in centuries caused an almost painful reaction. The word no longer meant paradise to him. Now it represented nothing but a dream he’d once had in his grasp—and lost.
“No. I passed by that way one time and my curiosity got the better of me. The house and lands had long since been claimed by a distant relative. I broke in and stole the book you were reading.”
Amber’s stomach growled, loud enough for both of them to hear. Her face turned pink and she stared at him so intently to see if he had noticed that he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t. Bane smiled and went to retrieve the bag of supplies, glad to end a conversation he couldn’t bear to continue.
“That’s not going to last,” he said, emptying the contents out onto the sofa beside her.
Amber grabbed a candy bar and some chips. “How much food am I actually going to need? It’s not like you are going to be able to keep me alive for much longer.” She said the words matter-of-factly, as if only a fool would expect any other outcome, but her shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Don’t say that,” Bane roared, enraged by her lack of faith in him. “Don’t ever give up. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She dropped her food in shock when he shouted, and her eyes filled with tears. He’d managed to scare her again. Could he do nothing right?
“I’m sorry, Amber. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just want a chance to undo the damage I’ve done, and I need you to stay strong.”
“But it’s hopeless,” she cried. “All you are doing is delaying the inevitable. You said Katerina wouldn’t stop until I was dead.”
He sat beside her, biting his tongue to keep from reacting to her words. The prospect of her death made him want to break something but it wouldn’t help either of them to frighten her by losing control.
“I do have a plan—of sorts. I’m hoping Katerina has realised by now that there are very few who could go through me to get to you. In fact, I know only of one other. Solomon is the closest thing I have to a friend and I’m banking on the idea that Ulrich won’t allow Katerina to pit his two greatest soldiers against each other.”
As usual, she picked up on the smallest detail. “You are a soldier?”
“I am part of an elite guard. I no longer protect Ulrich personally but he uses a couple of us for special jobs from time to time.”
“And Solomon is the one we need to worry about?”
Bane sighed. “You don’t need to worry about him. If he ever gets close enough to give you reason to worry, then I would have failed.”
“But he wouldn’t kill you, right?” Her wide eyed innocence almost made him smile. “He’s your friend.”
“Solomon does as he is told. He isn’t like me. He loves what he is—relishes it, in fact. If Katerina or Ulrich issue an order, Solomon carries it out, no question.”
“No!” Amber jumped to her feet, spilling the contents of her lap onto the floor.
Bane went to her, intent on calming her down. “I won’t let him get to you. I would die first.”
“But I don’t want you to. Don’t you get it?”
She screamed in anguish and balled up her small fists, thumping them into his chest. He grabbed her hands, concerned she’d hurt herself far more than she could ever hope to hurt him. Amber struggled until she realised she couldn’t wriggle out of his grip. Fresh tears came and she slumped against him.
Bane let go of her arms but she didn’t move from him. She stayed close, head bowed before him, crying freely. When he turned away to retake his seat, she reached out and grabbed his hand. Bane looked down at the slender fingers clutching at his and felt as if his dead heart had cracked in two.
“I’m so sorry, Amber. I would give my life to put this right.”
She pushed at his chest, turning to walk away from him and raising her hands as if to reject what he had said.
“Please stop saying that. I’m not worth the sacrifice. Three people are already dead and if you continue to fight this hopeless battle, you will be too. I can’t let another man die because of me.”
“Two of those ‘people’ were already dead. Vampires, remember?” His bluntness shocked her but he didn’t care. Amber needed a wakeup call if she thought herself responsible for anything that had happened. “And David? Cry no tears for him. Did you forget he left you for dead to save his own skin?”
“But if you weren’t trying to protect me, you—”
“—would be fighting anyway. This is about me as much as you. I decided to get involved and now I am living with the consequences. My only regret is that you are at risk too. I am a man who fights for something I believe in. The reason it hasn’t happened before now is because I have never cared about anything enough to defend it.”
“But you don’t care about me, Bane. You don’t even know me.” Amber rubbed her forehead as if trying to smooth out her bewildered frown. “You never did tell me why you saved me.”
Her natural curiosity replaced her fear as it had before and Bane didn’t hesitate to answer, happier to be on calmer ground. “You remind me of Mary.”
“Me?” Her voice came out as a squeak, and that, coupled with the way she pointed at her own chest, made him smile. “Do I look like her?”
“Very much so.” He dropped his gaze, his emotions too raw at thoughts of his wife to be able to endure the compassion in Amber’s eyes. But her prolonged and unusual silence made him look up at her eventually. “What are you crying for now?”
“So much has been taken from you.” Amber seemed truly sorry for him. Bane wondered where her sanity and sense of self-preservation had gone. How could anyone have sympathy for somebody who had destroyed their life the way he had hers? Realisation dawned. It wasn’t just him she cried for. She was crying for herself too, for her own loss. He reached out a hand and guided her back to the sofa, encouraging her to sit before joining her.
He placed the discarded food in her hands. “I insist you eat something.”
“What about you? Don’t you get…what do you call it?”
Bane smiled. “Hungry is as good a word as any. Yes, but I will hunt later.”
She ate at last, but chewed slowly and swallowed loudly, blushing again when she caught him watching.
Bane decided to give her a minute to herself. “I just need to check something outside. Finish your food and then summon me if you want to come out for some fresh air.”
“Can you? Go outside, I mean. Isn’t it still daylight?”
“Enough questions, woman. Eat.”
The small smile she tried to hide at his words made it easier to leave her alone. Bane suspected she wouldn’t have let him get away with telling her what to do under normal circumstances.
To occupy himself while she finished eating, he checked the area outside the mouth of the cave. Bane trusted his ability to smell, see or hear if anyone even approached the island, never mind made it so far inland. Still, he moved to the edge of the tree line, careful to keep to the shade as he scanned the horizon towards the mainland. Miles of ocean stretched out in front of him with nothing to break the glassy expanse of crystal blue water except for a few light vessels bobbing in the distance.
Amber’s voice weaved through the trees to him and he ran back to the opening, finding her waiting below.
“Wait a moment longer, I have an idea.” Bane looked around and selected a young tree. He uprooted the sapling and stripped the leaves and smaller branches from it, leaving the stronger, evenly spaced ones attached to the trunk.
“Step away from the entrance,” he warned, lowering the tree into the cave and resting the top against the entrance. “Can you use this as a ladder?”
“Yes, I think so. I’m coming up.”
Bane watched as she climbed, her lower lip held between her teeth and a small frown creasing her forehead as she concentrated on finding the next hand hold. She emerged into the daylight after a few minutes, flushed and triumphant.
Amber paused to catch her breath and turned to him. “Why did you do that?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t want you to feel you had to rely on me for everything, or needed my permission to go outside.”
“But I still can’t leave the island?”
Why in tarnation was she angry again? He’d known the woman for a couple of days and the only thing he had learnt about her was that he never knew what to expect. “Of course you can leave…if you want to die.”
The set of her jaw should have warned him she had a slender grip on her temper. “Why should I believe you? I only have your word on anything. For all I know, you could be some sick fucking psycho and a far greater threat to me than anything out there.”
Bane planned to simply walk away and leave her to her tantrum but found he could not. He grabbed her arms and pulled her round to face him. “Have you lost the last of your sense? Did you not see the two assassins I destroyed to save you?”
Amber wrenched free of his grasp the moment he loosened his grip, sorry anew he had acted like the brute she believed him to be. He anticipated more tears and shouting—not the stony silence and reproachful look she gave him before turning and running off into the trees.
Bane had no choice but to let her go.
* * * *
Amber climbed back down the makeshift ladder hours later, thoroughly exhausted. She’d stormed through the forest after shouting at Bane, hell bent on putting some space between herself and that macho prick. Grateful the prick hadn’t followed her, or at least she thought he hadn’t, she had found herself at the water’s edge. Plunging into the waves fully dressed had cooled her temper and cleared her mind of the fog of anger.
She’d gone back at dusk, intent on apologising. He felt badly enough already and her accusation must have offended him. But when she entered the cave, she found it empty. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who needed some time alone.
She peered into the sleeping quarters, finding the bed empty. The urge to crawl across its massive surface could not be ignored. Bane had allowed her to use it when they had first arrived so she saw no reason not to fall into now that she was exhausted.
Amber had no idea how long she’d been asleep when she woke to find Bane sitting, fully clothed, on the edge of the bed. A moment of panic at why he’d woken her passed when she saw he didn’t seem concerned at all. In fact, he looked more sad than anything else.
“You were dreaming again.”
She groaned and fell back to the pillows. “Tom has been haunting me in my sleep the past few days.” Fragments of the dream came back to her. “Was I talking in my sleep again?”
“A little.” He dropped her gaze, and Amber suspected she’d been doing more than ‘a little’ talking. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She sat up. “Not yet. Bane, I want to apologise.”
He raised a hand to stop her saying more. “You have nothing to apologise for. Your reaction is only natural. Besides, I deserved it, and I shouldn’t have scared you by getting angry with you.”
“You don’t scare me. I mean, not anymore.” His response was a gentle snort as he dropped his head.
She rubbed her eyes and lay back down, beginning to think she hadn’t slept anywhere near long enough, but she didn’t want to be alone again.
“Where did you go?”
“Hunting.”
“You hunt here?”
“No. I have to go to the mainland where the big game is.” Before she could ask him why he didn’t feed on humans, he got to his feet. “You need to sleep. We can talk more later.”
“Please don’t leave,” she whispered. Bane turned and Amber scooted forwards to grab his hand, trying to pull him down onto the bed beside her. He resisted but didn’t leave. “Just sit with me for a while. Please.”
Amber let go of his fingers and slid across to the far side of the bed when it seemed he would do as she’d asked. She lay down on her side, curled towards him while Bane sat rigid with his back against the wall behind the bed, towering above her.