Page 46 of Kept 3
“Gerald and I kill the hunters,” Nicholas grunts, twirling mid-air and wrapping his arm around her throat, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to rip her head from her shoulders, “we have done so for centuries.”
“They are all my descendants,” she screeches, back-flipping and landing on his shoulders, grabbing his head as he had just held hers, and beginning to twist, “as well he knows.”
I scream as I see his face contort and she spins fast, seeing me as though for the first time.
“I told you,” she hisses to Nicholas, “you will love no other.”
Spinning faster than the speed of light, she pushes off him, towards me.
Part of me is terrified, horrified, but part of me is also hoping Nicholas takes his chance while he has it. Even if I do end up fanged, he might finally be free of this monster.
I turn to run, but she drops onto me like a stone and wraps her hands in my hair, turning my face towards her, my neck wrenching painfully, she begins to twist my head 180 degrees as though it is a bottle top, and I screech, terrified when I hear the bones in my neck snap, and I am instantly paralysed from the head down.
Laughing, she twists further, and I know I am just a second away from losing my head, when she is pushed violently off me by Nicholas, who, rolling her onto her back, plunges a wooden stake into her chest. I hear her scream, but she does not disappear into a cloud of smoke or whatever I was hoping to see. Instead, she has her hands around Nicholas’ where he grips the stake and is managing to hold it just far enough away to prevent him from delivering the death blow.
I gurgle where I lay, partially hidden from view by the thick grass and a large gravestone, surprised that I’m still alive, but remembering that, as a Kept, I will heal, and I grimace as feeling returns to my fingers. Slowly I turn my head and feel my spine snick-snap, back into place. I can’t walk yet, but I hope that will be only momentary, and I keep my eyes on Nicholas, every muscle bulging in his shoulders as he tries to press the stake deeper into her heart, to destroy her utterly.
Wiggling my toes, I move to rise, to lend my weight to his, when another dark shape swoops down from the sky, howling, and Nicholas is thrown perhaps thirty metres away. He stands instantly, surprise written on every feature, and I know, instinctively, that I must stay hidden.
Gerald pulls the stake from Elsbeth’s chest and helps her rise as Nicholas shakes his head.
“Gerald, why? You know how many centuries I have hoped to destroy this heartless creature.”
“She is mine, has always been mine, you foolish boy,” Gerald says, frowning as Elsbeth pushes him away and leans, recovering, against the stone angel.
“All these years?” Nicholas groans, “we were friends, collaborators, hunters. Yet all these years you secretly supported her?”
“Loved her,” Gerald says, shaking his head as Elsbeth slaps his concerned hands away.
“But you saved my life when she sought to destroy me; you pulled the stake from my chest just as you have done for her this night.”
“I didn’t want her to feel the sorrow of destroying one she loved,” Gerald says, “just as I could never destroy her no matter what she did; creating the hunters, thwarting my will. I worked to counter her moves against me, against our kind, and you collaborated with me. But I also ensured her wish was granted. You never felt love again.”
“All these centuries?” Nicholas says, his voice barely a whisper, “you selected my wives, my Kepts – you brought women into my life whom you knew I could never feel for.”
“Yes,” Gerald snorts, “until now. But that will be remedied shortly.”
“I will kill you before you can harm a hair on Josephine’s head,” Nicholas says, his voice deadly.
“Nicholas,” Gerald spreads his hands out wide, “I cannot be killed, and if you turn against me, regardless of Elsbeth’s feelings, I will destroy you.”
“You are the original,” Nicholas says, his voice full of fear.
“I am.”
“Kill him,” Elsbeth whispers, “if you say you still love me, Gerald, kill him.”
Gerald shrugs.
“Are you sure?”
She nods and bares her teeth, her eyes glinting in the moonlight.
“Very well,” he sighs, launching himself at Nicholas.
I gasp, but any sound I may have made is drowned out by Elsbeth’s laughter as Gerald begins to fight Nicholas and it becomes clear, instantly, that there is no way Nicholas will win. Gerald is powerful, so powerful. His blows knock Nicholas around like a ragdoll. I realise he could kill him quickly if he chose, but he is taking his time, making him suffer, for Elsbeth’s benefit.
I begin to crawl, picking up the discarded stake where it lays in the long grass, determined to kill this vicious woman who has caused the man I love so much pain, when I hear a horrified moan and several loud crunching sounds from the direction where the two men fight. Pausing, I see Elsbeth, her eyes bright with tears, turn and wend through the gravestones, towards the woods, her shoulders bowed in grief.
