Bitter Ashes- The Complete Series Page 4

  “Not ever?” she asked as if she didn't quite believe me.

  I shook my head.

  She snorted. “Well that's irritating.”

  Setting down the knife, she ventured to the far side of the kitchen, opened a large, walk-in refrigerator, and disappeared inside, eventually emerging with an armful of produce. She returned to the cooking area and placed a tomato, an avocado, some lettuce, and a package of alfalfa sprouts on a cutting board. She began chopping haphazardly while I looked at the rest of the kitchen.

  Large, gas station style coffee pots took up a counter to my left, and in front of me along the far wall was bar style seating, along with a few small tables and chairs set out of the way.

  Within a few minutes, I was seated at the shiny counter built into the far wall with a veggie and cheese sandwich placed in front of me. Sophie had left out mayo and mustard, but the sight of her wielding the large kitchen knife had prompted me to keep my mouth shut.

  My stomach was groaning painfully, arguing with my mind for not wanting to eat. When my stomach won out, I picked up the sandwich and prepared to take a bite.

  “How is our little executioner doing?” Someone whispered right beside my ear, though no one had been there a moment before.

  I jumped and dropped my sandwich back to its plate. It fell apart, looking pathetic and unappetizing. I turned to find Alaric staring at me from just a few inches away.

  My pulse quickened as he reached out his hand, then swept my hair away from my face to reveal my neck, turning my initial annoyance into anxiety. “You know, there's no meat on your sandwich?” he asked, looking at my neck instead of my face.

  I scooted my stool a few inches away from him. He didn't seem offended. In fact, he pulled another stool up close and sat with his knee touching mine. I was glad that he'd at least found a shirt somewhere as he leaned against me.

  Sophie cleared her throat behind us. She sat near the door, drinking a cup of coffee. I would have loved some coffee, but I didn't really want to ask her for anything else. I already had the feeling that she hadn't appreciated having to make a sandwich for me.

  Seeing my longing gaze, Alaric rose from his seat and walked past his sister to pour two more cups from the coffee maker's spout. He returned and placed one cup beside me, then sat in his original position.

  Leaning away from him, I sipped the coffee, feeling instantly more stable as the warm liquid poured down my throat, thawing the icy pit that had formed in my insides. Alaric sipped on his own coffee as he watched me.

  I glanced at him, feeling increasingly awkward. “Do you have to do that?”

  “Do what?” he replied as he picked up a piece of my hair to play with.

  “Be creepy,” I answered, gathering up my sandwich once again. I leaned as far away as I could without falling off my chair.

  He laughed and dropped my hair, but didn't scoot away. He watched me take the first bite of my sandwich like he'd memorize every movement.

  “You know,” he said. “A lot of women don't like being watched while they eat.”

  I washed the first bite down with a sip of coffee. Without any condiments on the hard bread, the sandwich was a little dry. At least the coffee was good. Definitely not the cheap stuff.

  “I don't care if you watch me,” I replied. “Just don't touch me.”

  “Well you two are obviously getting along,” Sophie quipped, “so I'll just let Alaric show you back to your room.”

  I turned. “No!” I blurted. “Please don’t leave me,” I glanced at Alaric, then reluctantly added, “with him.”

  She smirked. “He’s only teasing you, Madeline. He’s not going to eat you.”

  I opened my mouth to argue further, but she simply turned her back and left the kitchen. I had to snap my gaping jaw shut as I turned back to Alaric.

  “Eat your sandwich,” he said good-naturedly, obviously not upset with the current arrangement. That made one of us.

  I took another bite of the dry sandwich and had even more trouble swallowing than before. It had seemed like a good idea to eat, if only to gather my strength, but now each bite was beginning to feel like heavy lead in my stomach. I put the sandwich down on the plate, suddenly disgusted with it.

  “Black isn't your color,” Alaric commented. “I tried to pick your clothes, but I was over-ruled.”

  “Who picked them?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable that he cared what I wore.

  “Sophie,” he replied. “She chose them before you arrived. I take it you will be staying with us?”

  I pushed my sandwich plate away. Yeah, definitely done. “Like I have a choice,” I answered bitterly.

  Alaric laughed as he spun down off of his stool in one liquid motion. “I suppose not.”

  I suddenly felt the tears welling up again. I didn't know why they chose to hit just then, a delayed reaction I guess. I looked down at my uneaten sandwich and cried, because I didn't know what else to do.

  Chapter Three

  Alaric had waited while I cried. He didn't try to comfort me, and I was grateful. It would have been just a little too strange having one of my captors showing that type of compassion.

  My tears had left me numb and thoroughly without an appetite. I left the sandwich on the counter so Alaric could walk me back to my room. He reached my door first and held it open for me, the picture of a perfect gentleman. Yeah right. I turned and looked at him once I was inside, wondering if he was going to leave me alone in the room. He didn't.

  “I'm tired,” I said, hoping to appeal to his sense of mercy.

  “I know you've been through a lot-” he began.

  “That's a vast understatement,” I interrupted.

  “And I know you probably don't have warm, fuzzy feelings toward any of us right now,” he went on.

  “Keep going,” I sighed weakly, feeling unsteady on my feet. “You're on a roll.”

  He laughed. “Your ability to be sarcastic under the direst of circumstances is quite impressive.”

  “Would you rather I screamed and begged for my life?” I questioned.

  “It might be interesting,” he replied. “Though your life is in no danger.”

  I left him and walked further into the room to sit on the foot of the ornate bed, smoothing the thick comforter with my hands. “You don't have to die in order to lose your life,” I said quietly.

  He raised an eyebrow as he left the doorway and slunk toward me. “And your life was so great before?”

  I glared at him. “It was nothing special, but at least I had a choice in what I did.”

  “And you chose to shut yourself up in your little house,” he said softly. “No, I don't think we took you away from very much at all.”

  “How long were you people watching me?” I hissed. “I'm beginning to think that this wasn't just some random kidnapping.”

  “You know this wasn't a random kidnapping, Madeline,” he replied. “Just as deep down, you know what you are.”

  “My name is Madeline Ville, and I'm a human being,” I answered sarcastically.

  Alaric kneeled in front of me, putting us at eye level. It was an oddly intimate position, but he hadn't left me room to stand, so it was either scoot back onto the bed and give him room to follow, or stay where I was. I stayed.

  “Sophie told me what happened with your foster family,” he admitted. “I helped cover the incident up. It must have been difficult for you to deal with at such a young age.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “That's not possible. That’s—” I paused, not sure what to say.

  The last family I'd been placed with had been a couple in their late thirties, Ray and Nadine. They both suffered from alcohol issues, and used the foster system as an easy paycheck. It hadn't been terrible, not compared to some of the other places I'd been.

  I was seventeen at the time, and they let me do what I wanted as long as I didn't rat them out for not being real parents. I was content to stay there until I was eighteen and finished with high school.

  It was all fine, until one night they came home completely hammered. Nadine passed out, and Ray turned his attentions to me. I tried to fend him off, and things got violent. He ended up falling on the corner of the kitchen table, neck first. It sliced him open, then he hit the ground. There was a lot of blood and I panicked. I could admit to myself that I didn't care about his well being, but I knew if anything serious happened I'd be blamed for it. Plus, I could feel his neck wound on my own neck. It wasn't as bad as some of the other pain I'd felt, but it was still unpleasant. I'd put my hands on his neck and tried to stop the blood flow. His eyes turned up to me, frozen in terror, then suddenly, he was dead.

  I had thought his death was caused by blood-loss at the time, and had dismissed the strange rush of energy I felt when he passed as adrenaline. Then Matthew died, and I had to admit that neither death had been normal. They were both my fault.

  The night Ray died I'd called the police, and ended up in Sophie's office as the sun began to rise the next morning. I'd frantically pleaded with her to not let the cops take me, that it had all been an accident. She'd told me not to worry, that it was all taken care of. There would be no questions. I would simply wait for my eighteenth birthday in a women’s shelter, rather than with another foster family.

  “The police saw him,” I said out loud, returning to the present. “There was no way it could be covered up. I should have at least been questioned.”

  “You don't need to worry about that anymore,” Alaric assured.

  I curled my legs up underneath me and huddled in on myself. “What really happened?” I asked in a strained voice. I didn’t want to believe any of this was real, but if there was even the slightest chance I could learn the truth . . . “Why did Ray die? I've been over that memory
so many times. He hadn't lost enough blood. He was conscious and cursing at me as I tried to stop the blood flow.”

  Alaric placed his hand on my shoulder. “It is your gift, Madeline.”

  I pulled away, shaking my head over and over. “I don't understand.”

  He stayed kneeling in front of me, but didn’t try to touch me again. “You have the power to release the lives of those who are suffering.”

  “I don't believe you,” I said petulantly, though part of me did.

  I'd stayed up far too many nights wondering what had happened with Ray and Matthew to not have considered that there was something different about me.

  Alaric sighed. “You'll see in time.”

  “And what do you have to do with any of this?” I asked suddenly. “I still don't understand why I'm here.”

  “You'll understand soon enough,” he explained seriously. “I promise I'll do what I can to help.”

  I laughed, but it turned into more of a hiccup because of my tears. “You know, I preferred you when you were flirtatious,” I said, suddenly embarrassed by my breakdown.

  He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “As my lady commands.”

  I smiled, then quickly wiped it away. A girl shouldn't smile at her kidnapper, even when he was trying to cheer her up.

  “I'm tired,” I said again.

  He nodded. “I wouldn't go wandering,” he advised. “Many things less pleasant than my sister wander these halls.”

  With that ominous advice ringing in the air, he stood and left the room, shutting the door gently behind him. I leaned down and took off the high-heeled boots. Apparently I'd just been dressed up to meet with Estus. He was their leader, in some way, so I supposed he merited proper attire.

  I paced around the room, feeling sick and dizzy, and none too happy to be left with only the form-fitting dress to wear. There were a few dressers in the room that matched the bed, and as a last ditch effort I started going through them. Many of the drawers were empty, but eventually I came to two drawers filled with clothes. I found some silky red pajama pants with a matching shirt, but passed them over. I didn't actually want to go to sleep. I couldn't go to sleep. I had to find a way out.

  I searched through the clothes a little bit more and came out with a pair of black jeans and an indigo blue tee-shirt. The jeans fit me like a glove. My imprisonment had obviously been well-planned. Gre-at.

  I dressed quickly, nervous that someone would come calling while I was naked. I felt slightly better in normal clothing, more like myself. There was even a pair of black running shoes underneath the dresser. It was as if they actually wanted me to run. I was happy to oblige.

  When I could find nothing else of use in the room, I sat on the bed to wait. Hopefully everyone would go to sleep and I could search for an exit unhindered. I wasn't sure how anyone could even tell that it was night-time without windows, but I felt tired enough for it to be night. That meant that it had already been a full day since I'd been taken.

  I tried to just wait on the bed, but I was too nervous to sit still. Instead, I began examining the room, even though there wasn't much to it. Wood had been added to the fire before I was re-delivered to the space. The flames crackled happily as they gave off their warmth, contrasting drastically with my mood.

  I stood by the fire for a while, because it beat sitting on the bed. Eventually I went through the dressers again, even though I knew I'd find the same things, and looked underneath the bed as well. There was nothing under the bed, not even dust bunnies.

  Finally I'd had enough, and went for the door. I reached for the knob and hesitated, then placed my ear against the door to listen. I couldn't hear anything on the other side, but the wood of the door was so thick that it didn't mean much. I took a deep breath and grabbed the knob, opening the door before I could think better of it. I let out my breath when it was revealed that no one was waiting on the other side.

  With a steadying hand against the wall, I tip-toed out into the hallway, almost wishing I would have gone with bare feet rather than running shoes. I crept down the hall, cringing at the little tip-taps of my steps on the stone.

  The lighting in the halls was more dim than it had been earlier, but still enough to see by, luckily. Not sure where to go, I finally decided to go back down the hallway where I'd had my encounter with James. I did not want another meeting with him, but it seemed the most likely place for an exit. From what I'd seen of the opposite direction, the other halls led deeper into the compound.

  I glanced over my shoulder every few seconds, wanting to run, but afraid of the noise my feet would make. I was mid-step when I heard a low-throated growl that raised the hairs on my arms. I turned around in what felt like slow motion to see a dog the size of a grizzly bear creeping up behind me. It must have come out of one of the rooms, else I would have noticed it approaching.

  I stood perfectly still as the beast took a slow step toward me, scraping its long nails across the stone floor. I swallowed the lump in my suddenly dry throat. Maybe it wasn't a dog. It had a face similar to that of a Rottweiler, but with an elongated snout. Something about its stance was wrong as well. I took a slow step back, realizing its neck was far too long, and what I could see of its tail was too thick. It had the body of a bear, the head of a dog, and the neck and stance of a giant lizard. Dark brown fur flowed over its face and body, blending the aspects of the different animals seamlessly.

  The thing cocked back its head and sniffed the air, then let out another low growl. It shifted from paw to paw, preparing to pounce. Knowing that I would have no chance if it jumped on me, I turned and ran.

  I was no longer concerned about my footfalls as I rounded a corner in the hallway, my heart thudding in my chest. I grabbed the knob of the first door that I saw, praying to whatever I should be praying to that it wasn't locked.

  The door came open and I practically fell inside. I felt the air shift behind me as the creature went barreling by. I slammed the door shut and slid the deadbolt into place, not waiting to see if the creature came back. I was suddenly very glad that all of the doors in the place seemed to be made of heavy, sturdy wood, though it was a little strange to have a deadbolt on an interior door.

  I turned to look at the room I was now trapped in as I tried to regain my breath. The room was made of stone, of course, but something dark stained the walls and floor. I couldn't tell what the substance was, as the room barely had enough light to see by, but I could tell it had been a thin liquid, spattering the walls lightly, then pooling in large puddles on the floor. I waited by the door for a moment, listening for the return of the creature, but heard nothing.

  My shoulders relaxing, I walked toward the nearest wall and touched the stains, smoothing my fingertips across the stone. My fingers came away with something thick and sticky. Older, dry stains were spread underneath the more recent ones, flowing in patterns like water. I stepped away from the wall, rubbing my fingers on my jeans as I went. I still hadn’t heard a peep from the other side of the door. The creature wasn’t trying to come in after me.

  My sneakered feet stuck to the floor as I explored the dimly-lit room a little further. Large cages with thick steel bars came into view as I approached the far wall. The refuse inside of the cages hinted to the fact that they had once been occupied, but they were all empty now. I wondered if the cages were for other beasts like the one I'd seen. The room stank of rot and a strange burnt smell.

  A scratching at the door caught my attention. My heart leapt into my throat at the thought that the creature had realized where I was, but then I noticed that the scratching was coming from somewhere beside the door, not outside of it.

  I crept toward the sound, barely able to hear the scratching over the thudding of my heart. There was something small moving around where the floor met the wall, but there wasn't enough light to quite make out what it was.

  I crouched down and reached out a hand to try and coax the thing into the dim light. It worked. Too fast to follow, the thing lunged for me. It was only the size of a very large rat, but it flew into my chest with such force that it knocked me to the ground.

  The moist stickiness of the floor seeped into my clothing. I half sat up, frantically trying to grab at the thing that was now scratching its way up my torso. I wrapped my hands around it, but the creature was wet and slippery. It slipped right through my fingers and went for my throat, pinning me back to the ground. It wrapped tightly around my neck.