Vampire's Prey

Chapter 11: Injured

Author's Note:

Two chapters were released today. Make sure you read Chapter 10 – Lord Guerin's Castle before this one.

His gaze lands on me, and he straightens his spine. He pinches the arrow by the stem and slowly pulls it out with a circular motion. I wince just watching the painful-looking movement, but he doesn't flinch, and his expression shows no hint of discomfort.

The arrowhead is coated in blood, but it's intact. He rolls his shoulders like he's exercising a stiff muscle.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

He snaps the arrow, and the pieces fall out his hand. "Are you going to claim you slipped?"

I avert my eyes. He was hurt because of my actions. I didn't mean for harm to come to him. I was supposed to find sanctuary with Lord Guerin, and that would deter Rahlan from trying to recapture me. A skirmish wasn't part of the plan, and neither was me fighting to reunite with him.

"We are not so fragile, like you humans." He unfastens his soaking cape and twists it in his hands. "You will be punished for that little escape attempt."

My stomach flips. I knew that this was the consequence of choosing him over the bandits, but the weight of my decision is only now starting to register. I'm reminded of his boot slamming into my middle, waves of pain following each blow. A feeling so intense that I'll writhe and crawl and beg and scream to get away.

What if it's worse this time? What if he breaks my fingers, like he came so close to doing before? My legs feel like they're about to fall out from under me. Without my fingers, I'll be helpless for months, maybe years. Just eating an apple on my own will be impossible. I'll be reduced to nothing but a blood bag. I can't take that. I can't.

My arms retreat back through the coat's huge sleeves, leaving them empty. I clamp my fingers under my arms for protection. I know that he has to punish me for what I did, but breaking my fingers is unnecessarily cruel.

He steps forward and lifts my empty sleeve. "What are you doing?"

I shut my eyes and squeeze my arms tight under my coat. Revealing my fear may encourage him to enact it. He wants to punish me. He wants to create a deterrent.

"You continue to test my patience. I'm sick of your schemes." He yanks me forward by the sleeve, almost causing me to lose my footing. His fingers move to unthread the coat's buttons.

"No." My legs collapse, and I fall to the ground. My body compresses into a tight ball, with my fingers hidden in the middle. His heavy leather boots are well within range of my head. "Just kick me now and get it over with."

He stands frozen, analyzing me. I don't dare look up. He can't be reminded of my fingers. If I stay by his feet, far away from his precise hands, his assault may not progress past blunt force. It'll still be hell, but it's better than the alternative.

"What are you hiding?" he spits, becoming more and more irritated by the second.

There's no reasonable explanation. Hiding my hands was a mistake. I should have just stood frozen and prayed that his assault wouldn't progress that far.

He shoves me over. I try sit up, but his hand grips my collar and pushes me back down, forcing my back flat against the dry leaves and causing my hair to fan out in the dirt.

He undoes the buttons and pulls the coat open. I clamp my arms down tighter, hiding my delicate fingers underneath. It's a superficial protection. He could so easily yank my arms up with his immense strength. My eyes mist over, and the trees overhead begin to blur with the sunlight.