Page 4 of Prodigal Son

His uncle Isaiah might appear a weather-beaten wild animal, but his ancient bloodlines and diet left him strong. The memory of his dark black hair trailing in snarls behind his filthy, naked form reminded Cain just how savage and lost an unanswered soul could be. Cain’s own fears threatened to destroy his remaining calm, the cloying suspicion that his fate might someday resemble that of his deranged uncle.

He glanced at the unconscious woman at his feet. If his uncle got ahold of the battered female, he wouldn’t simply kill her. He’d toy with her like all the others. Vampires liked to torment their prey the way cats tormented mice. Isaiah would take his time and drag out her suffering.

“Foolish English woman. You should have never returned to these woods.” He grunted, bending to grab hold of her arm. The stench of her dried blood held hints of an oncoming infection.

Understanding what he needed to do to save them both, he lifted her limp arm, drawing her wrist to his lips where her pulse beat weakly. “I promise not to let you die.”

His fangs punctured her smooth flesh and her body flinched, not stirring from unconsciousness but still spiking her blood with added adrenaline. The warm rush of renewing fluid down his throat took immediate effect, thwarting the start of another chest spasm and restoring his strength enough for him to at least think straight. He drank heavily, her sluggish pulse slowing with each strong pull. So long as her heart didn’t stop, he could revive her. Right now, he needed strength to get them out of the woods or they would both be worse off come morning.

The approaching chatter of the others rustled the leaves in the distance. He was too focused on salvaging his strength to use his powers. A small tornado could have scrambled their scent and confused the others about their location, but he couldn’t spare the energy. Besides, the wind might only lure the others faster once they scented her spilled mortal blood.

Cackles echoed, as their bodies swung from distant branches, surrounding them and closing in from all directions. They had less than a minute before they would be completely enclosed by predators. He’d been able to fight one, but by the screeches coming from the trees, there were more than twenty out there. Add Isaiah into the mix and…

He forced his fangs to retract from her vein and licked her wound shut. “We have to go.”

Scooping her into his arms, he stood on shaky legs. A screech echoed from the west, met by a resounding shriek in the east. They were closing in on them, surrounding them from all angles.

His grip tightened on the plump little blood bag pressed to his aching chest. They needed to move.

Crouching low, preparing to leap into the trees, his muscles bunched and he staggered, falling off balance as claws scored his back. A distant scream pierced his brain, dropping him to his hands and knees. The mortal’s body broke his fall as he gripped his skull and roared.

A flash of blood filled his mind. Pale, feminine legs. Horrific cries.

“Anna!” he snarled, another wave of dizziness holding him down as the vicious other at his back snarled and snapped her fangs, clawing to get to the unconscious mortal under his protection. Cain bared his fangs and pivoted. The chaotic vision ripping through his mind knocked him back with dizzying speed. Anna’s horrific screams told of excruciating pain, but he couldn’t reach her without losing focus on the now.

The other sprung, knocking him back and ripping open his throat as she bit into his face. Cain roared at the fresh pain and flung her off. His gaze shot to Destiny, her unconscious body laying limp and helpless in the dirt. The other crawling into a crouch, following his stare and bared her filthy fangs.

“No!” Cain snapped, lunging for the mortal and throwing his body over hers in protection as the other landed on his back, ravaging his newly regenerated skin and clawing open the tender wound from the arrow.

Cain screamed in agony and twisted, feral and untethered from his sanity as pain knifed through his back into his heart. He grabbed hold of the other and snapped her neck with a sharp twist. Panting and seething, he searched the shadows for more only to recall the mortal. He had to get her somewhere safe.

Anna’s cries filled his head with chaos, hysterical and distant, nothing like their usual connection. Her voice was weak and…fading.

Cain hoisted Destiny into his arms. Anna’s screamed plea punctured his mind as fresh blood tunneled through the gaping hole in his heart. The faint echo of Anna’s cries as she called his brother’s name tore open the scars that would forever mark his soul. Even in death, fate would torture him.

Staring down at the flaccid body in his arms, his ears followed the hissing of the approach of more others. With no time left, he had no choice but to sever the mental connection to Annalise and focus his remaining strength on escaping the present threat.

Staggering forward, he yanked the limp female’s body higher onto his shoulder and opened his stance, spreading his claws for battle. Red eyes bore through the shadows, their shrieking cackles now surrounding him. There were so many. More than he expected. Getting out of the woods alive no longer seemed like an option. He was going to need divine intervention.

Cain circled in place, certain he was about to die but determined to go out with honor. “Let’s go, you rotting waste of human flesh.”

The others, all female, prowled closer, hissed with sharpened, gnarled fangs, and lunged.

CHAPTER 2

Cybil dropped the corn husk doll as a scream pierced the air, traveling from some distance over the hill. Her mind instantly returned to the night in the woods when she saw her mother’s dead body draped in the arms of—

The screen door ripped open and Gracie tore out of the house. Her dress whipping at her ankles as she raced toward the gate.

Cybil stood and Gracie looked back at her with panicked eyes. “It’s Anna. I have to go.”

Anna was married to Adam. Adam was Cain’s twin, but not a fair substitute. It had been weeks since Cain left the farm, and every day Cybil played out front, watching the distant hills, staring at the nearby woods, and waiting for him to return.

“Cybil, are you coming?”

Abandoning her dolls on the porch, she stood, but Gracie was already gone. More screams shrilled from the valley where Adam and Anna lived.

Cybil’s leather boots carried her over the frozen ground, her arms chilled from the cool air as it wafted beneath her wool cloak. Since moving to the farm, she no longer dressed like a regular kid, but dressed like the other children who lived among the Amish. She hoped to fit in, but none of the other kids accepted her as one of their own.

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