He went after the next shifter and the next, ignoring their screams for mercy. When he heard a feminine grunt of pain, he’d dropped the shifter struggling in his arms and went after the man that had fallen on top of the small woman curled up on the floor. Growling, he’d grabbed the man by his hair and yanked him away from her, sinking his fangs into his neck and draining him dry even as he dragged him back over to the shifter who was now trying to get away.
He refused to let anyone escape and alert the rest of the Pack that he was alive and ruin the surprise. He forced his painfully full stomach to take more blood, knowing that he was going to need it. As he dropped the last man to the ground, he watched as the woman that intrigued him slowly made her way towards the back wall.
Curious about her, Trace silently made his way towards her until he was barely a foot away from her. She was a good head shorter than him, with long hair, but he couldn’t tell what color her hair was. Judging by the light tint of blue, he was guessing that it was either gold or light brown. Her eyes were wide open with fear as she desperately searched around her. He knew that she couldn’t see him, otherwise, she’d be screaming. When she stumbled to the ground, he’d made no move to help her, but took the opportunity to take in her scent.
It was so damn sweet and enticing that it made his already full stomach rumble violently. As he leaned in to draw in her scent, he couldn’t help but wonder if all humans smelled this good and immediately dismissed the idea. If all humans smelled this good, none of them would be alive. No, this mouthwatering scent belonged to this woman and this woman alone.
As he neared her, he could feel the heat pouring off her skin and nearly groaned in pleasure. He’d been cold for far too long and would gladly welcome this woman’s hot blood into his veins to warm his cold existence, but he stopped himself from taking her, but just barely. If the men were wrong about his father coming back here, then he was going to need her to navigate the new world he suddenly found himself in. He picked the limp woman up and carried her to a support beam in the middle of the large stone room. He placed her with her back against the beam. He barely gave her another thought as he took in his surroundings and couldn’t help but frown.
Curious, he walked around the room, stepping over bodies and broken shards of glass and took in everything around him. He took his time running his fingertips over everything in the room, picking up things that drew his attention, and trying to figure out what they were. A few times, he got carried away and accidentally ripped pieces off or crushed things, so he threw those aside. As he looked over the strange items, he wondered how long he’d been in that tomb and if there was going to be anything left in this world for him to recognize.
The delectable scent that she was giving off was proving too much for him to handle, so he forced himself to tear his attention away from the treasures lining the wood shelves and set to work. The first thing he needed to do was to get rid of the bodies before they drew the attention of other shifters. He grabbed what looked like a spade and tucked it under his arm, threw the largest of the men over his shoulder, and headed for the small stone stairs and the scent of fresh air cooling the already darkening night. For a moment, Trace stood at the top of the steps with his eyes closed and head dropped back as he took in the crisp, clean scent of the woods surrounding him and enjoyed the cool breeze as it swept over his skin.
After a moment, Trace opened his eyes and took his first step outside, something that he never thought that he would be able to do again and kept walking. Without looking back, he moved through thick unruly brush, only pausing whenever he came across something that he’d never seen before. After wasting several minutes, he forced himself to keep moving, telling himself that there would be plenty of time to learn all the new changes he’d missed over the years.
He’d known while he was in that tomb that things would change over time. His father had explained that the longer they lived, the more things changed. He still remembered sitting on his father’s knee, listening as his father shared stories of plagues, inventions, and all the things that had changed during his lifetime. Trace thought it was exciting and had looked forward to seeing all the changes occur in his lifetime.
Anger surged through him at the reminder of everything he’d missed as he moved faster through the overgrown brush. Soon everything became a blur as he ran through the woods that he easily recognized even after all this time. Instead of enjoying his newfound strength, he was furious. The old anger that had kept him company in that tiny tomb surfaced once again, leaving him furious at himself for his stupidity, at the men that had done this to him, and that bitch that tricked him with soft smiles and kind words.
He’d missed so much because of them, and he would make sure that they suffered for it.
Trace threw the body off his shoulder when he found the spot his father had selected the first day they’d moved here. He was relieved to find that it still looked the same. It had been their chosen meeting place in case they became separated. It was the spot his father had told him t
o come to if he ever needed help. They had spots like this one all over Europe and in a few of the other colonies.
He stepped in front of the large oak tree that still bared their small mark and broke out in a cold sweat, afraid that he wouldn’t find anything. If his father was still alive, he’d find more than just the small coin purse they’d buried here. His father would have added to it over the years, exchanging it for new currency when the old currency was replaced. If all he found was the small purse of copper coins, he would...
God, he didn’t even want to think about what it would mean. His father was still out there waiting for him, Trace told himself even though he knew that he couldn’t leave. Not yet. He needed to take care of this first. Hopefully, the men were right and his father would come back here, but if he didn’t, then finding his father would have to wait until after he destroyed the bitch that betrayed him. Once he took care of her, he would find his father, searching every inch of the world until he found him.
Decision made, he grabbed the spade and dug until he came across a metal box. Tossing the spade aside, he tore the box open, barely aware that he’d broken the lock with his bare hands and sighed with relief when he spotted the folded piece of parchment lying on a large cloth bag with his name written across it in what he vaguely remembered as his father’s handwriting.
As he unfolded the parchment, he knew that everything would be fine and once he found that bitch and ripped her throat out, then everything would be perfect.
Chapter 4
The sound of glass shattering brought her fully awake with a pained gasp. Her heart pounded against her chest as memories from the night before came crashing down around her at the same time that Samantha realized that she was still gagged, her head was killing her, her neck was sore, and she was now sitting up against one of the support beams that ran through the middle of the dimly lit basement.
Samantha looked around, and when she spotted blood on the stone floor in front of her, she forced herself to ignore it and searched for the source of the light. When she spotted the open bulk doors, she nearly sighed with relief. As long as they stayed open, she knew that she had a chance. If she managed to get loose, she’d run for the woods and keep running until she found somewhere to hide. If they closed the doors, she’d be running blind again and her chances wouldn’t be as good. She just needed to figure out where everyone was, she realized with a frown
Where the hell were they? Samantha wondered as the sound of more glass shattering grabbed her attention in a big way. Swallowing nervously and forcing herself to remain calm, and hopefully conscious, she slowly turned her head and felt all the blood rush from her face.
Near her grandmother’s prune preserves and her old Ready Set Bake Oven stood what could only be described as a monster. He was tall and large, very large. From what she could tell, and she couldn’t tell that much, not with his long gray, almost white scraggly hair and beard hanging down to his waist and almost too white tattered clothing hanging off him, but she knew that he was larger than Nathan.
As he continued searching through their old things that not even the Salvation Army would take, Samantha looked him over. She noted the blood splatter on his ghostly white legs and muddy bare feet. As it was, she was having a difficult time believing that large hand reaching for her grandmother’s old bedpan, and seriously whose idea was it to save that, was the same thin hand that she saw reaching out of that hole.
He was definitely filled out more than he had been before, Samantha noted. Even from this angle, she could see that. Her eyes of their own accord moved back down to the drying blood splattered on the floor and a horrible, gag-inducing thought occurred to her.
Did he eat the bodies?
“Oh, god,” she mumbled against the tape as black spots once again danced along her vision. She would not pass out, she couldn’t allow herself to pass out. It was time to be strong and deal with this. She would not pass out where he could...where he could...oh, god, she didn’t want to be this thing’s dessert, Samantha thought as darkness started to crowd her vision.
Her eyes began to flutter shut and she fought it with everything she had. When she managed to blink her eyes open, she found herself nose to nose with the hideous monster.
She screamed.
He growled.
She may have passed out.