Page 70 of Hunted By the Headless Horseman
I narrow my eyes but loosen my grip on her hair, returning to stroking it, imparting what comfort I can.
Belle’s blood is mine, and I’ll carve my name into her skin and soul if I have to.
The memory claws at me. I’ll rip him apart, piece by piece.
“He left in the middle of the night during that first week of our…honeymoon.” A bitter hurt steeped in that last word. It cuts through me like a blade. “But I followed him.” A tremor shudders through her, and I smooth the curls of hair from her face so I may brush my knuckles along her cheek. “Thaddeus went to the old ruins bordering the town, and he and the Brothers were gathered in this crumbled pavilion. What I saw…it was the nail in the coffin that led me and Mimi to get me out.”
“What did you see, Belle?” I cup her chin.
“If that masked fool thinks he can take her from me, he’ll learn that I am the devil in these hills.”
After pursing her lips, she trembles. The gentle caress of my fingers contrasts with the fury simmering in my blood.
“They were…oh, god, they took off their black robes and stripped down to nothing. It was so cold that night, but they didn’t care. Especially with the roaring fire. And they wore these grotesque animal skulls. I swore they looked like monsters, real monsters—like their eyes were hollow with no soul. Thaddeus the most.”
I coil my hand around her neck, providing a grounding anchor for her. I feel her everywhere. Her fear is so intense, it strangles my throat, pulsing more bloodthirst through my veins.
“They chanted in some foreign language,” she says. “I’ve done research over the years, Jack. Those words are seared into my mind. But I have never found anything that remotely sounds like that language. It felt like my ears were bleeding. But no, they were the ones bleeding. Because they…” Another tremor rocks through her. I strengthen my grip on her neck, clenching my other hand at my side. “They whipped themselves. Self-flagellation. Oh, god, Jack, I was so scared.”
Her fear seeps into me, dark and unyielding, feeding the primal, protective rage ripping through me. It takes everything in me not to break, not to let that rage take over and lash out at the darkness that had tried to swallow her whole.
“I don’t even have words for how horrid it was. They spilled their blood into bowls. They passed the bowls around and drank from them. Some even howled in pain. But not…”
Not Thaddeus.
“He was still. So still.” She shivers as the tears spill down her cheeks. “He shed more blood than any of them, but he never made a sound! Then, he poured the blood over himself.”
The thought of her witnessing such horrors, of Thaddeus standing there drenched in blood, unmoving, emotionless—it boils my blood with a hatred I’ve never known. One as equal to the horrors of my family’s torturous execution.
“He walked to the fire. And I have spent my entire life trying to deny what I saw as a trick of the firelight or my imagination going wild. But it was raw and real, so real. He walked right into the fire, Jack! Not just the edge of it. He walked through it. And he wasn’t burned.”
She unravels, and I swear something breaks inside me. Her sobs vibrate through my chest. I let them.
Finally lifting her head, she continues, “I felt like I was staring at something that wasn’t human. More than ever because it got worse. So much worse.” My soul burns at the thought. “They brought someone to him. Someone from the outside. Homeless, I think. Thaddeus…” Her breath quickens. Her pulse thunders beneath my fingers. “He cut him. Over and over again, while the other Brothers chanted. The screams were too much. I ran as fast as my legs could take me. Because if he knew what I’d seen, I knew he’d kill me. When I got back, I prepped my go bag like Mimi trained me.”
She practically tries to crawl on top of me, seeking me with every ounce of strength she has left. I won’t let her fall.
Moving her until she’s on her back, I hold her here, surrounding her with my body, anchoring her arms on each side of her head, and positioning mine on top of them. Moretears and a nod confirm it’s what she needs. Confinement is her trauma. She relives it and reclaims it whenever I hold her down at the silent behest of her will, her strength. I kiss her brow. Light, tender touches.
“It was the worst night of my life because I had to keep pretending, acting like a doe-eyed, blushing bride on her honeymoon. Brothers’ and Elders’ wives care for them in every way. He woke me up and made me tend to his wounds. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I shake anytime I think of it. My heart…” Her breathing grows quicker, ragged, and she arches her throat.
“Stop, Belle,” I command her sternly. “Fucking stop. You’ve said enough.”
Aftershocks of shudders quake through her. I press my forehead to hers, letting her feel my breath, steady and deep, in contrast to her desperate gasps. “I’ve got you. I’m here, Belle. Always here,” I whisper the vow. “You’re safe.”
I’m drowning in her pain. I will show Thaddeus the true devil of these mountains. Whatever pain he dealt her, I will return tenfold.
“Don’t underestimate him, Jack,” she begs. “Never go back there. Just stay with me. If he finds me, if he takes me, it won’t ever end. He will never let me go. So,youcan’t let me go.”
“I never will,” I say firmly, resolute. “And now, I will prove it with the greatest distraction of your life until your screams are heard beyond the mountains.”
As I kiss every inch of her and lick her to a bewildered oblivion, Thaddeus’s words thunder through me. Whatever happens, I will protect her. Belladonna Moore will never become a casualty in our war, as my family was all those years ago with Edmund Thorne.
“If I can’t have her, no one will.”
I’ll never let him take her.
27
