Crimson's Captivation (22 page)

Viktor and his men found the ride along the
Daugava River without incident. The few soldiers that appeared
along the river were easily avoided, but another snowstorm had set
in. Snow flurries, again. At dusk, the wind shifted to the south
and blew snow directly into their eyes. Victor did not want to
stop. He wanted to push forward, but the wind grew stronger and
forced them to seek shelter among a thicket of trees near the
riverbank.

“We shall camp here tonight,” Viktor said.
“We’ll rest and make our way toward the king and his men in the
morning.”

“Viktor, do you know where the king and his
men are?” a younger man asked.

“Yes, another day of travel, I suspect, to
reach the fortress of Polotsk. The king will be near the town of
Koknese. We’re close, so close. We’ll sleep in rotation this night.
I’ll take first guard.”

Soon, Viktor’s men were asleep near a
bustling fire and Viktor walked the perimeter of the camp. He
sensed it at first, that feeling of being watched. He purposely
made sudden turns in hopes of catching the onlooker behind him.
Then he heard movement in the bow of a tree. Just as he raised his
torch, Sena was in front of him and pinned him to the trunk of the
tree. Light snow fell around her from where she leapt from the
branch above and in the backlight of the campfire, it made her look
like an angel.

Sena didn’t say a word as she cupped her hand
over Viktor’s mouth. She had more strength than Viktor and easily
tilted his head to the right where she found the shape of Cygnus on
the left side of his left neck. Viktor struggled against her, but
it was useless. Then she peeled open his coat and shirt to find a
crescent moon birthmark on his right collarbone.

“You are Prince Viktor, yes?” Sena asked in a
whisper in Viktor’s ear.

Viktor nodded and mumbled under her cupped
hand. Fear ran through him and set every nerve on fire. He closed
his eyes and thoughts of death stabbed him in the gut. Was she a
scorned sister of Caspian seeking revenge? Did he and his men
travel all this distance to be so close and have it all taken away
at the hands of a crafty female vampire? He struggled again, but
Sena easily thwarted every attempt he made to escape her grasp.

“And you are seeking Crimson?” Sena asked as
she leaned in and sniffed him. She could smell his fear and it made
her heart pound.

Viktor’s eyes opened wide. He shook his head
yes and mumbled, “Yes, yes. I’m searching for Crimson.”

Sena held him in place for several seconds
and then slowly backed away. “So you’re the prince Crimson speaks
of? I’m Sena. Crimson has sent me to find you.”

Viktor’s first instinct was to attack the
creature and he eyed the pike that lay near his feet. “You know of
Crimson? I doubt it,” he said as he gently knelt to grab the
weapon. “Crimson would not befriend a vampire.”

Sena smiled and Viktor’s motion toward the
weapon slowed when he saw her fangs. “Touch that pike and I will
have no choice but to harm you,” Sena cautioned, and Viktor stopped
in mid movement. “You have no idea what Crimson is capable of,
young prince. Rest assured, Crimson and I are friends and I’m here
to guide you to her.”

“Why should I trust you?” Viktor asked, still
eyeing the pike.

“Simple, Viktor. Because I’m the best hope
you have.”

Viktor fell to the seat of his pants and
folded his arms across his knees. “Is she okay?”

Sena sensed the concern in his voice. “She
is,” Sena said as she sat down in front of him. “She’s Tor’s
concubine in Kiev. But she waits for you, Viktor. She waits for
your rescue.”

“Kiev? I thought she was in Minsk.”

“No, Gaten is most likely in Minsk, but he is
not your concern. Your love is in Kiev.”

“What of this Kieran?”

“He, my young prince, is further south still.
If your intention is revenge, then you and Crimson will surely be
killed. Or worse yet, you will be killed and Crimson will forever
be in captivity.” Sena stood and peeled a large piece of bark from
a nearby birch tree. She found a dark rock and began mapping out
the location of Tor’s palace on the white skin of the bark.

“Why are you helping me?” Viktor asked as he
watched her.

“I’m not sure that I’m helping you. I think
I’m helping Crimson.”

Viktor swallowed hard and asked, “Has she
been … Sena, has she been used?”

Sena stopped drawing the map and met Viktor’s
eyes. “If that matters, then you should return to Sweden.” She
waited for a response and when none came, she pressed, “Does it
matter?”

Sena heard him first, the young man of
Viktor’s party sneaking up behind her. Then she could smell him.
She waited and when he had the pike mere inches from her back, she
swiftly turned and snapped the pike in two. In an instant, she had
his face pushed deep into the snow. Her instincts kicked in and she
had to fight it to avoid ripping at his exposed neck.

It happened so fast that Viktor didn’t even
notice until he saw Sena move so quickly that she was a blur in a
swirl of disturbed snow and splintered wood.

“No!” Viktor screamed as the snow settled.
“Don’t harm him.”

Sena growled. “Does it matter, Viktor?”

“It does not. I love Crimson no matter
what.”

“Are you sure?” Sena demanded.

“I am, Sena. She’s my love, and my love has
deepened since she slipped away.”

Sena released the young man, but kept her
knee in his back. “Very well, we have work to do. We shall test the
depths of your love, Viktor. We shall parade your affection through
hell and see if it’s strong enough to survive.”

Viktor stood and collected his pike. “Release
him. I’m ready to rescue my girl.”

* * * *

Later the next morning, Kieran and Caspian
arrived at Tor’s palace at the request of Tor’s dispatched letter.
The letter didn’t allude to the fact that one captive was dead, one
had turned, one had run away, and one was in a deep sleep near
death. Kieran grasped Tor’s elbow and led him toward the
courtyard.

“This is a mess. Which servant escaped?”
Kieran asked Tor.

“Sergen, the big one. He has taken my
daughter with him.”

“When?”

“Sometime during this last night. I checked
the stables before you arrived. They left on horseback.”

“I see. I will have Caspian search for your
escapee and your daughter. Sergen is not from this area, so he will
follow your daughter’s lead. Where might she go?”

Tor thought for a moment. “I doubt she would
head north—too much war and she knows the danger. She would head
south toward Odessa.”

“Very well. I would like to see your
daughter’s bedroom,” Kieran said as he and Tor walked back into the
main foyer. “Caspian!” Kieran shouted.

Caspian appeared as a silent mist and he
startled Tor. “Yes, my brother.”

“I’ve told you not to do that around the
mortals. Follow me. I have a mission for you.”

Kieran immediately recognized Crimson. She
lay on Darya’s bed, her breaths were shallow and her stomach barely
rose. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and closed his eyes.
He had thought of Crimson, but not like this. She looked helpless.
“She’s alive, but just. What happened?”

“I think she poisoned herself with the yew
tree,” Tor answered from the doorway.

Kieran released her arm, leaned in and
smelled her breath. “Yes, the sweetness on her breath confirms your
suspicion. Instruct your caretakers to flush her with fluids. She
may make it.” Kieran then went to the chair next to the bed and
picked up a nightgown. “Is this your daughter’s?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Kieran motioned for Caspian and gave him the
gown. “This is his daughter’s scent. She’s heading south and using
gold and silver as trade. Find her and the escapee she ran off
with.”

Caspian brought Darya’s nightgown to his nose
and inhaled her scent. He smiled as he inhaled her sweat and bath
oils. “Smells like honey,” he said under his breath.

Kieran recognized Caspian’s crazed look. He
grabbed Caspian by the arm. “And Caspian, she is not to be harmed,
am I understood? Not a scratch. Not even a kiss or a careless
touch.”

Caspian sulked. “Yes, and the escapee?”

“Do what you must.”

Caspian relished the thought, took one final
inhale of the nightgown, and faded into a fog that moved toward the
window where he disappeared.

“You’ll have to excuse my brother,” Kieran
said. “He’s a bit of a show off. He doesn’t understand the business
of our family.”

“Will he find my daughter?” Tor asked.

“He already has,” Kieran responded as he
walked back toward Crimson. “He already has.”

“Then no apology needed,” Tor said as he
exited the room.

* * * *

Caspian easily found the scent of Darya
outside the palace and covered ground with amazing speed. As he got
closer to her, the scent became fresher and stronger, almost
pulling him toward her.

Two towns to the south, her scent literally
emptied out of an inn and although it was strong, it mixed with the
other humans in the inn and the nearby tavern, which made it
difficult to pinpoint her location.

His first thought was to slip into the Inn as
a mist, and then suddenly appear among the crowd and scare everyone
off, but he thought better of it. Scents linger. He pushed open the
door and walked up to the innkeeper who was cleaning his desk. “I’m
looking for a young girl?”

“You’re in the wrong place. You want the
bordello down the street.”

Caspian forced himself not to smile. “No, a
young girl and a large man are here. They would’ve paid in gold or
silver.”

“I see,” the innkeeper coyly replied. “Is she
yours?”

“Yes,” Caspian lied.

“Too bad. Very pretty maiden and the man
she’s with is far bigger than you, far stronger, too.”

“Let me worry about that,” Caspian said with
a tinge of anger.

“Are you a fool?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” the innkeeper mumbled. “Normally, I
wouldn’t give out such information, but since you’re not a fool and
only a fool would approach that man, then no harm.” A sneer of
delight stretched across the innkeeper’s face. “They’re upstairs in
room three.”

Caspian reached into his pocket and flipped
the innkeeper a copper coin. “Wait here, old man. I’ll be back down
with the girl in no time.”

“Young man …”

“Yes?”

“Room three is called the lover’s room.” The
innkeeper laughed out loud and returned to his chore of cleaning
his desk.

Caspian found room three upstairs and stood
outside the doorway. When he was sure no one was looking, he turned
to mist and slipped under the door. On the other side, he wandered
to the corner of the room and retook his normal form. He saw Darya
lying in bed. She was asleep with the bed covers only covering her
legs. Her breasts were exposed and her breaths were deep and
content.

Caspian walked to the side of the bed, where
he stood over her and admired her beauty. He leaned toward her,
took in her scent with a deep inhale, and noticed the satchel of
gold and silver on the floor. He was certain that he had found his
mark.

Just then, Sergen entered the room holding
apples and pears and saw the stranger standing over Darya. He
dropped the fruit, rushed Caspian, and caught him off guard. The
two tumbled over Darya and crashed into the wall on the other side
of the bed.

Darya awakened. It took a moment or two for
her to realize what was happening and then she let out a
blood-curdling scream. Sergen had Caspian pinned to the floor and
as long as Caspian was in the grasp of another, he couldn’t turn to
mist. Caspian struggled to escape, but Sergen would not let go and
Caspian took two heavy blows to the side of his face. The first
punch broke Caspian’s nose. The second punch was perfectly placed
and knocked him out.

There were pounds at the door and Sergen
yelled to Darya, “Don’t answer that door!” He ripped the curtain
from the window with plans to use the fabric to tie the stranger’s
hands, but when the sunlight landed on the stranger’s exposed skin,
its skin bubbled and scorched and filled the room with a smell of
burning flesh.

“I need a stake!” Sergen yelled.

“A stake?” Darya asked as she pressed her
back against the headboard. Everything was happening so fast that
she didn’t know how to react.

“This is no man. He’s a shadow!” Sergen
shouted. Sergen grabbed the bedpost, it wasn’t sharpened, but it
would have to do. He ripped the bedpost from the frame and let the
bed collapse to the floor. He stood over the stranger, held the
wooded stake above his head, and rammed down with such force that
the stake went through Caspian’s chest and embedded in the wooden
timber floor beneath.

Darya screamed again. Then everything was
quiet. All she could hear was Sergen’s heavy breathing. She peered
over the edge of the bed to look at the body. “Is he dead?”

“Yes,” Sergen responded as he sat on the edge
of the collapsed bed.

“Who was he?”

“A hunter from the auction house. We mustn’t
move south anymore. We should head west toward France. Get
dressed.”

Darya inched toward Sergen from behind and
wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. She kissed him on the
back of the neck. “France,” she whispered. “Why didn’t I think of
that?” She reached between his legs. “Are you sure you want me to
get dressed?”

Sergen stood and made his way to the door. He
opened it and scared the other patrons away. He returned to Darya,
kissed her full on the mouth, and said, “France isn’t going
anywhere, but let’s at least get another room.”

Sergen went downstairs and found the
innkeeper all smiles. “I require another room.”

“Of course,” the innkeeper said. “I told him
not to mess with you.”