A Thousand Years (Soulmates Book 1) (4 page)

             
The driver knew what he was doing and pressed on the gas harder, heading straight for Eadric. He was going to run him over. Even Eadric wasn't sure if he could survive the hit in one piece. But if it stopped the van long enough for Anabell to make a break for it, then it was worth it. His safety was his last priority. She was the only thing that mattered. Period.

             
Bending his knees, dropping his shoulders, and preparing his body to absorb the hit, Eadric steeled himself for the collision.

             
It wasn't like accidents in the movies. The van didn't hit him in the legs and send him flying up in the air, and then crashing back down to the ground below. It slammed from his shoulder to his knees, punching the air out of his lungs and knocking him back to the ground.

             
His hips, along with a few ribs and vertebrae, were shattered on impact and several of his organs ruptured. He felt blood pooling somewhere in his abdomen. But the internal bleeding was just one place where he was losing blood. He also felt it leaking down his legs and trickling down the back of his head where it hit the pavement.              

             
His body would start healing with the worst injury, but he didn't know if it would be strong enough to catch up in time to do anything more to help Anabell.

             
The force of his body slamming into the front of the van crushed the hood and sent the vehicle careening into a large oak tree on the other side of the road. There was no time for the driver to correct or prepare for impact.

             
The van hit the tree with a crunching sound as window shattered and the rest of the hood mangled. Eadric was just conscious enough to see the driver go hurtling through the window.

             
The three men inside the van poured out, the last one holding tight onto Anabell's upper arm. Her hands were flex-cuffed behind her back and a large piece of duct tape covered her mouth.

             
The first two raced to the driver. They found him in two pieces beside the tree. His head on one side and the rest of his body on the other. He was dead - there was no healing a decapitation.

             
"We'll have to take her on foot until we can find another car to grab. The van is totaled," Number one said as he walked back over to number three and Anabell.

             
"Robert?" Number three asked. One shook his head.

             
"What do we do with the one on the road?" Two asked as he rejoined the group, motioning to Eadric.

             
One spit in his direction and scowled.

             
"Him, we leave to die. He's too wounded to last much longer. Plus, the sun will be up soon. If he doesn't bleed out or get ran over again, the sun will nuke him for us. Hands clean. Problem solved – for good."

             
"What if he teleports?" Three.

             
"I doubt he can. He has no one to help him heal, and he’s gravely wounded. Let's just leave him. He’s always been worthless."

             
Anabell looked over at Eadric from her periphery. He wasn't moving. It was a bad sign.

             
She was too far away to tell just how badly he had been injured, but, if she listened to the men who were holding her, it was very, very bad. He was dying just fifty feet from her, and she was handcuffed.

             
She didn't know what she could do to help him, but she knew that she had to get to him. Even if they killed her, even if he died too, she had to try to save him - like he was trying to save her.

             
"Let's go!" One barked. Anabell assumed that meant he became the man in charge of the ragtag group. From what she had seen of the three, though, they were all clueless. Someone else had to be pulling the strings.

             
Three guided her toward the road. They had decided to walk along the side of the road pretending to be hitchhikers until someone stopped.

             
Counting to five as she used her shoulder to roll the piece of duct tape off her mouth, she put her meager plan into action.

             
"Ow!" she yelled as she threw herself to the ground. "My ankle!" Three almost went down with her, but her let her go at the last second. She hit the grass a little harder than she meant to. It was effective, though.

             
"Help her up so we can keep moving," One said he glanced back over his shoulder. Two repeated the sentiment.

             
When Three bent down to help her up, that's when she decided to make her move.

             
Sweeping her leg out low and hard, she knocked his legs out from under him, making him crash to the ground beside her. She only had seconds to run before he would be up and the others would be on her.

             
Anabell took off running until she reached Eadric, throwing herself onto the road beside him. There was no time to worry about the blood or his injuries. If she could get him conscious enough to get himself out of there, that was what she was going to do.

             
"Wake up, Eadric! Please! There're going to be over here any second. You've got to get yourself out of here," she screamed, cradling his head in her hands and using her thumbs to open his eyelids.

             
"Run," he whispered.

             
Anabell shook her head, letting the tears she didn't notice she was crying fall on his face.

             
"You need to save yourself, Eadric. Those men said you can teleport. Teleport yourself out of here, get somewhere safe where you can rest and heal. Don’t worry about me. Save yourself."

             
Eadric lifted his arms, even though they felt like lead and wrapped them around her back.

             
"Not without you."

5

Middle of Nowhere Ireland

             
A flash of light blinded Anabell, making her squeeze her eyes shut. She prepared herself for impact as she waited to get hit - the light had to be headlights. It was too bright. That was the only explanation. She would rather be hit by a car then be killed by those awful men.

             
When nothing happened, she opened her eyes to see what was going on.

             
She was instantly dizzy.

             
The flex cuffs were gone, and instead of seeing the dark road, the wrecked van, and an injured Eadric, Anabell found herself in a dark, cold room that looked dungeon-eqsue. She started to ask how it happened when she heard Eadric moan in pain.

             
Groping around in the dark, she found him lying on a cot at the back of the room. A second later, the torch mounted on the wall lit up.

             
“What do you need?” she asked, leaning over him.

             
“Blood,” he choked out. Anabell fought back a shudder and shook her head. Flashbacks to what she saw in his office came rushing back. Eadric, shirtless with fangs sticking out of his mouth. Eadric, the demon – the vampire. He needed to drink blood to live.

             
“Blood?” she said, gulping back a throat full of fear. The idea of him drinking blood was repulsive enough; the fact that he would have to bite her to get it scared the life out of her.

             
Eadric pushed himself up a little with the help of the cot frame.

             
“I’m bleeding badly on the inside. Right now, my body is trying to do damage control. Until I can feed, that’s all it’s going to do. I can’t start healing until I get fresh blood in me,” he explained, clutching his side in pain as he looked at her. “But I don’t expect anything from you, Anabell. You’ve already done more than enough for me. All I’ve done is put you in danger.”

             
“Is there anywhere I can get some for you?”

             
“No.” Eadric tried to speak again, but he started coughing hard, spitting several mouthfuls of blood onto the stone floor.

             
Anabell was terrified of letting him bite her and drink her blood, but Eadric’s life was on the line – because he was saving her – again.

             
“Then drink mine.” Anabell rolled her sleeve up, exposing her wrist to him. He shook his head and turned it away from her. She refused to accept his rejection. She wasn’t going to let him die from his own stubbornness.

             
Anabell brought her wrist to her mouth, but dropped it as soon as she thought it through. Her teeth were too dull to break through her own skin, and she just didn’t have the stomach to do it. There had to be another way – some way to get him to drink, one that he couldn’t avoid.

             
Sticking her finger in his open mouth, she groped around for his fangs. The first one she found, she pressed her finger against until she felt it pierce the skin. It stung, but she didn’t care.

             
It was too small of a place for him to drink from, but she hoped that it would give him enough of a taste for his body to take over and force him to take her blood.

             
His tongue was light on her finger, pressing against the drops of blood welling out. A sensation she expected to be painful or just weird was anything but. His hot mouth wrapped around her finger felt like heaven.

             
“Now drink,” she whispered to him, reluctantly pulling her finger from his mouth and pressing her wrist against it.

             
His body didn’t have to be told twice.

             
Anabell shut her eyes and prepared for a piercing pain to rush through her. Once again, she was surprised by the heady sensation of his mouth. A jolt of pleasure rushed through her as his teeth sank into her soft skin. She had to bite her bottom lip to keep from moaning.

             
It was just a perfunctory exchange. She was just trying to save his life, nothing else. Once he was healed, she would go home and leave him to go about his life without her.

             
Eadric only took a few mouthfuls before he was aware enough to stop himself from drinking anymore. He knew she gave up a lot to let him bite her, and he didn't want to abuse her generosity. He had already taken too much from her. Her free will, a normal life, and now her blood. He couldn't take anything else.

             
Eadric was supposed to be the one saving her, not the other way around.

             
"You need more," Anabell told him when he healed her wrist and pushed it away. She tried to force it back to his mouth, but he stopped her.

             
"Go upstairs and find a room. You need to rest. I'll be fine." His voice cracked a little, but it was stronger. Anabell couldn't fight her urge to brush the damp bangs out of his eyes.

             
The tall, intimidating warrior that saved her in the club was gone. In his place was a fragile, broken man, pale from blood loss, weak and nonthreatening.  Bloody hair, his legs laying at odd angles, and a blank face - his eyes were still shut tight. A tiny piece of her was waiting for him to open them again. Something just told her that he would be fine if he would just open his eyes.

             
Since he was the first demon she had ever met, Anabell had no way to know how he would heal or if he would ever be able to walk again. She didn't want to leave him alone, though. Not when he was so frail and vulnerable.

             
Lost in her thoughts, Anabell was caught off guard when Eadric reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it as much as he could manage.

             
"Rest, Anabell. Don't...” He paused to cough some of the blood out of his lungs. "Make me teleport you to a bedroom."

             
Still stubborn and giving orders. It was a good sign.

             
"Scream, shout, send a smoke signal, something, if you need anything. Please," she found herself saying. She reluctantly let go of his hand and walked out of the room.

             
In the torch-lit hallway, Anabell remembered that she had no idea where in the hell she was. The hallway only led one way - to a set of stairs going up, so that was the way she was going to go.

             
Up the stairs, Anabell found herself in a kitchen. One that looked like it came out before the Middle Ages - the only modern thing in it was a fridge.

             
It took her several minutes to navigate her way to the main hall. They were in a damned castle. They were not in Tennessee anymore that was for sure. Given the age of the castle, they weren't even in North America anymore.

             
A wave of exhaustion hit her out of nowhere, making her knees a little weak. The adrenaline and excitement of the evening had taken its toll on her.

             
Taking the main staircase, Anabell went upstairs. She wasn't sure what, but something compelled her to pick the room at the end of the hall.

             
The door was made of a thick, dark wood. From the difficulty she had pushing the door open, it hadn't been opened in a while.

             
Anabell was surprised to find everything modern inside.

             
Silky purple sheets covered the king-sized canopy bed with a matching comforter and bed skirt. A thin, pale pink gossamer fabric hung from the canopy, tied back like a tent at the foot of the bed. A cherry vanity with a plush cushioned chair and a set of perfumes in front of the mirror. It was like he was waiting for her – or someone.

             
Anabell found a white, satin sleeping gown in the nearby dresser. Looking down, she realized that her clothes were covered in blood. If she slept in them, she would ruin the sheets. The gown would have to do.

             
Once she was changed, she crawled up the foot of the bed.

             
As she went to lie down, Anabell was startled by the painting of a blonde woman hanging on the far side of the room. She was stunning. The perfect match to Eadric's good looks. She must have been his wife.

             
No wonder he was still hung up on her.

             
They were a beautiful couple.

             
A twinge of jealousy prickled in her chest. There was no way she could compete with that, not that she wanted to. Even if she did, though, she knew there was no way she would be enough for him. She was dumpy compared to the love of Eadric's life. He would never actually be interested in her.

             
As soon as he was healed, she was out of there. She didn't belong.

             
The need for sleep hit her hard again in a wave of exhaustion. She hit the pillows seconds later, not bothering to climb under the blanket.