Valle : Book 2 of the Heku Series (28 page)

“No, Em, it wasn’t,” he said, pulling the covers over her shoulders.

“I got away. He came at me like he was going to...” He could tell by the way her eyes scanned the room that she was watching it all happen again, “I told Allen to go to Anna, and he left, he was afraid.”

“You were mad, kept saying I owed it to you. You kept touching my back, and my stomach and my arms. It was rough... like…” She swallowed hard, “It was like Keith. I ran, I don’t know where I was going, but I ran. I didn’t know where to go. It was you. Who would protect me from you?”

Chevalier watched her and was glad it was dark, so she couldn’t see the rage in his face.

“You caught up with me by the trees and dragged me down. I couldn’t see, it was too dark and it smelled so bad.” She shivered and her voice became softer, “I couldn’t see you. You would reach out and touch me, my face, my hand, my leg, but you weren’t there when I tried to find you. You were everywhere. Then you pinned me and I could feel your teeth against my neck, it hurt, it hurt like before.”

She didn’t need to specify before. Chevalier knew that before he came along, she was the unwilling victim to a slew of thirsty heku.

“I was glad when you tied me up and left me… when I couldn’t feel your hands on my skin. I thought I would die down there, alone… cold… Then you would come back... you would come back… and curl up with me in the dark. The hands always touching me and you would kiss my face and my neck then you would feed again while your hands touched my back and my legs. Always touching.”

Chevalier’s hands tightened into fists and he exhaled slowly.

“I wanted to turn you to ash, to stop the cold hands… but it was you… I couldn’t kill you. You said I didn’t deserve you.” She turned her eyes down to watch her hands, “That the baby was a mistake. How could you love someone like me? I am just a vile filthy mortal, and you only… only want sex.”

“That was not me,” he said, gritting his teeth.

She ignored him and continued, “You said… you wouldn’t kill me… and you’d bring me food if I would still… still sleep with you… in the crypt. I fought him until I was alone again, it was better.” She nodded, her eyes still a million miles away, “Better… yes it was better.”

Emily was finally silent and she lay back in bed and pulled the covers over her. He watched as her eyes shut and she drifted back to sleep.

Chevalier watched her sleep, this time she was still. He watched and wondered how she survived what she had gone through. She spent over 48 hours in the crypt with her unwanted visitor the only company. There was no food, no water, and no warmth. She hadn’t killed the Ancient when she could have because she still thought it might be Chevalier. He felt a surge of violence swell up inside of him and he blurred to the back deck and smashed the furniture into the side of the yacht, growling into the night.

He was calm again when the sun rose over the horizon, and he sat in the chair and watched her sleep. He was unmoving, his eyes never leaving her as the morning drew to a close, the sun directly above them. The cabin became stifling hot in the afternoon sun, and he quietly opened the windows to let cool air into the room, then he sat back down to wait.

She began to stir as the brisk evening air filtered into the room. Chevalier got up and started making some fried chicken, a meal Gordon taught him late one night while Emily was asleep.

“Are you mad?” He turned when her soft voice sounded behind him.

He frowned, “Why would I be mad?”

She shrugged and pulled her legs up close to her chest, then wrapped her arms around them and rocked as she watched him.

He turned back to the chicken, “I’m sure this won’t be as good as Gordon’s, but I’m hoping you’re hungry enough it’ll do.”

She smiled crookedly, “Smells good actually.”

Emily watched as he cut up potatoes and threw them in the pan with the chicken. Her stomach growled as the smell filled the night air. He filled a plate and sat it on the table. She took the hint and sat down at the table to eat.

“This is really good,” she said, between bites.

He grinned, “Well, it’s no B positive.”

She wrinkled her nose and took another bite.

“Why would I be mad at you, Em?” he asked after a few minutes.

She shrugged and stabbed a piece of potato, “I should have known it wasn’t you.”

“He fooled both Kyle and I, too. Shape-shifters are good. This one had a lot of experience. Not good enough though, or Kyle wouldn’t have thrown him into the prison,” he chuckled.

“Tell me more about the ancients. Were they the first heku?” She got up and got a glass of orange juice, and then sat down on the couch.

Chevalier joined her, still keeping his distance, “Yes, the very first.”

“How were they made then?”

“No one knows.”

“How old is he?” She ran her finger along the top of the glass.

“No one really knows. If you ask an ancient, they will tell you they have always been.” He pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and laid it over her legs.

“Did an ancient make you?”

“Yes, those of us directly made by the ancients are known as ‘old ones’. That one didn’t make me, though. I’ve never seen him before.”

“You said the ancients used mortals as toys.”

“Yes”

“That’s all I was then… a game.”

“I don’t think so. I think at first he wanted some fun, but then… well I think he may have fallen for you. There was no other reason he tried to… well… it’s just a theory.” He took her glass and went to the fridge to refill it.

“Did you help get rid of the ancients?” She watched him and took the glass when he returned.

“Yes,” he said softly.

“Tell me.”

“Their games were getting old. The humans were become civilized and learning quickly. We knew it wouldn’t be long before we were outnumbered. We… meaning myself and the first Council, decided to talk to them and try to get the ancients to leave the morals alone. It didn’t work though, it made things worse. They thought nothing of kidnapping small children to torture and feed off of.” He watched the waves out the window.

“We did what we had to to protect ourselves, to protect our species.” He finally smiled at her, “We couldn’t kill them though, they were our past, our history. So they were banished to the ground for eternity.”

“Are they all on the island?” She shuddered.

“No, I didn’t even know one was here. Actually, I didn’t know about that crypt either.” He frowned.

“Then how did he get there?”

“When we finally decided to banish the ancients, the call was given and heku everywhere did what they could. There must have been a colony on this island already, and when they banished him, they either didn’t tell anyone, or swore them to secrecy. Their secret followed them when they left.”

Emily thought for a moment, “So how did he get out?”

Chevalier shrugged, “That’s been bothering me. All I can come up with is that Larsen did it, though I don’t know why.”

“Larsen?” Her eyes narrowed.

“It’s the only explanation. Someone had to have dug up the Ancient, and then opened the sealed casket. He couldn’t have gotten out by himself.”

“There could be more then.” It wasn’t a question, and she watched the blank TV screen.

“No, the ancients were scattered. They couldn’t even stand each other long enough to live together. He was alone.”

“So how did you get the island?” She’d wondered that before, but hadn’t bothered asking.

“It was three hundred years ago, and the Council got word of an out of control coven here. I was sent in to… well… exterminate the offenders.”

“But you didn’t… you saved them?”

“No, I did what I was sent to do. But I loved this place and the castle, so I moved my coven here.” He saw the shock on Emily’s face, “I told you, I’m good at my job.”

“How many did you kill?” she whispered.

“It’s not important.” He reached out to touch her, but she jerked slightly.

“You have to stop doing that.” He reached out slower and brushed the back of his hand against her arm.

She fought to calm her breathing.

“It wasn’t me,” he said, scooting closer to her.

She shut her eyes tightly, “I know.”

Chevalier reached around to the counter and grabbed a small yellow bottle of medicated gel and some gauze, “Let me see your wrist.”

Her eyes flew open, “Why?”

He sighed, “You know why. I just want to change the bandages.”

She reached her shaking hand out to him. He tore off the old bandage and smeared the yellow goo around her wrist as she watched him, scrutinizing his every move. He wrapped new gauze around it, and then started on the next.

Chevalier reached quickly for the gauze on her neck and she gasped and shied away from him, her hands by her face.

“Sorry, sorry, Em… it’s ok.” He slowly moved his hand closer to her and pulled off the gauze.

The puncture wounds were still red and swollen, but he thought they were getting better. It took a very careless heku to do that, one with no concern for the one from whom he drank. It infuriated Chevalier. He’d spent his entire life killing heku for less than that.

He pressed new, clean gauze against her neck and gently taped it into place as she stifled a yawn.

Chevalier smiled, “Bed time again?”

“I’ve slept a lot today already. Maybe a movie?” she asked, watching him get up.

He held a hand out for her, “Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”

She took his hand after a few moments and let him walk her to the bed, “I don’t want to sleep though, I slept all day.”

“It’s good for you, you’re still anemic and PTSD.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, and then thought for a moment before swinging her legs into bed, “P.T.S. what?”

He covered her up, “Post traumatic stress disorder.”

She frowned, “Are you making up diseases now?”

He laughed, “No, that one’s real.”

Emily turned onto her side, “Chev?”

“Yeah?” he asked, turning out the light.

“Nothing, it’s ok, good night,” she said, snuggling down into the covers.

“Tell me,” he said, sitting on the bed beside her.

She reached out and took his hand, “Stay with me?”

“Of course.”

She rested her head against the back of his hand and shut her eyes, falling asleep quickly.

The night went better. She had only one nightmare, but otherwise slept peacefully. He could read her emotions and pick up parts of her dream as long as he could touch her. Chevalier spent the night delving into her dreams and feeling the foreign emotions flow through him. He marveled at how intricate and expressive her dreams were and how she was particularly much unlike her waking self in them.

She woke up feeling much better and smiled when she smelled the hot coffee brewing.

“Good morning,” she said, sitting up to watch him in the kitchen.

He walked over and kissed her forehead. She only jerked back slightly when he approached her, “Good morning.”

Emily stretched and then stood up. Her muscles were still stiff and sore, but not as bad as the day before. She poured herself some coffee and sat down at the table.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” she asked, sipping the hot coffee slowly.

He grinned, “First off… I’m giving you a massage.”

She frowned, “Why?”

“Because you’re still sore from being on the cement and also… let’s call it therapy.”

“Oh so now you’re Freud?” She could feel the panic begin to swell inside of her.

He chuckled, “I met the man and I’m not like him at all… I’m not claiming to be a psychiatrist.”

“You met Sigmund Freud?” She couldn’t help but sound shocked.

“Yes, interesting man, but not one I spent a great amount of time with.” He passed a bowl of fruit over to her.

“I still don’t need a massage. I’m not even sore today,” she lied.

He chuckled again, “Yes you are.”

She grabbed a few grapes and sat back in her chair again, drawing her legs up to her chest. She winced slightly as her muscles screamed at her, but she fought to keep her face from showing it.

“No massages,” she snapped at him. She hated when he was right, but the thought of his hands on her made her panic.

“I’m not fighting with you today,” he said, watching her.

“Good, no massage… no fight.”

“Oh you’re getting a massage. Your entire back is full of knots.”

“Fine… then let’s go back to the island, and I’ll hit the mainland and find a masseuse.” She thought that sounded reasonable.

He grinned, “No.”

“Why are you so set on this?” She watched him carefully.

“Hmm let’s see. You’re sore, you flinch when I come near you, you’re stressed out, not sleeping, and, well… because I can think of no better way to spend the day than running my hands all over you,” he said the last part with a grin.

“Ever consider maybe I just don’t want to be touched?” She glared at him.

“Yes I have, and if it was a regular thing… even something I had seen once in the past, then I would respect your wishes, but I know why and I’m not going to have you afraid of me.” His amused expression left.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, looking deep into his eyes.

“Maybe that wasn’t the right terminology.” He thought for a moment, “How about, repulsed by my touch.”

She frowned, “That sounds awful.”

“Well, how would you explain it?”

“It’s not you. I don’t want touched by anyone right now.” She grabbed a knife from the counter and began to cut up a fresh mango.

“Just a strange mainland masseuse?”

She sighed, “Ok, so maybe I wouldn’t have actually done that.”

Chevalier laid his head back and laughed.

Emily threw a piece of sticky mango at him and hit him on the cheek. He wiped off his face with a napkin and grinned.

“You’re trying way too hard to start a fight with me. It’s not going to work,” he said, he was prepared for this.

“I am not,” she snapped at him. Chevalier laughed again and she roughly pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, then stormed up the stairs.

Emily sat down on the deck chair, slid on her sunglasses, and leaned back. She sat up quickly when she felt Chevalier sit by her on the chair. When she saw a bottle of massage oil in his hand, she tried to stand up quickly, but he held her to the chair.