Vowed

Chapter Eight

Kyle trekked through the bogs of southern Scotland, fuming with hatred. With every step he took, he raged at the thought of Caitlin, running free, eluding him, in time after time, place after place. He dwelled on ways he could capture and kill her, exact revenge.

He had already exhausted nearly every method he could think, and she always seemed to slip through his grasp. He did manage to exact a small, petty revenge in poisoning her family. He smiled inwardly at the thought of that.

But it wasn’t enough. This had gone on already way too long, and the last time they’d met, he had to admit it, she had overpowered him. He was shocked at her strength, her fighting skills. She had actually outfought him. It was beyond anything he could have anticipated.

A part of him had feared this, which was why he had gone to such lengths to poison her, to avoid a head-on confrontation. But that, too, had backfired. He’d poisoned Caleb by accident, and while he felt certain that his poison had killed Caleb, he hadn’t had a chance to confirm it, as he’d had to flee in the night.

This was the last time and place, Kyle vowed to himself, that this would happen, that he would pursue her. Either he would kill her for sure this time, or he would die trying. There was no retreat, no surrender. No more times or places. This would be his last and final stand. Here, in Scotland.

And for this final stand, he had a grand strategy, the grandest of them all. The vampire poison had seemed a good idea at the time, but in retrospect, it was just too risky, left too much room for chance. His new idea, though, could not possibly fail.

In coming up with this new scheme, Kyle had thought back to all the times and places he had cornered in Caitlin, and tried to recall the time he had come closest to killing her. He concluded that it was back in New York, when he’d captured her brother, Sam, had him under his control, and used him to shapeshift and trick Caitlin. That had nearly worked.

Shapeshifting, Kyle realized, was the key. With this type of trickery, he could dupe Caitlin, gain her confidence, and then kill her for good.

But the problem was, Kyle did not possess this skill. He did, though, knew one person, in this time and place, who did.

His old protégé.

Rynd.

Centuries before, Kyle had trained a fleet of the most vicious, sadistic vampires who’d ever roamed the face of the earth. Rynd had been one of his shining stars. He’d become too vicious even for Kyle to handle, and Kyle eventually had to expel him.

Last Kyle heard, Rynd was living in this time and place, hiding out in the remote Southern corner of Scotland. Kyle would find him now. After all, Kyle had taught him everything he knew, and he figured Rynd owed him one. It was the least he could do for his old mentor. All Kyle needed from him was for him to summon his old shapeshifting trick, just once.

Kyle, ankle deep in mud, smiled at the thought of it. Yes, Rynd was exactly what he needed to dupe Caitlin, to finish her off for good. This time, it was a plan that could not fail.

Kyle looked up, taking in the scene. It was cold, and windy, and the dampness in the air seeped into his bones. It was twilight, his favorite time of day, and there was a heavy fog creeping over the ancient wood. It was just his kind of day. If there was anything Kyle loved more than twilight, it was fog. Kyle felt positively at home.

Suddenly, his senses were on high alert. A creepy feeling raised the hair on his skin, and something told him that Rynd was close.

As Kyle walked into the fog, he heard a slight creaking, and looked up and spotted something moving. As the fog parted, Kyle could make out a barren forest of dead trees, and as he looked closer, he saw objects hanging from the branches.

As he stepped forward and examined them, he realized they were bodies – humans – dead, hanging upside down by their feet, tied by rope to the branches. They swung slowly in the wind, and the sound of rope creaking on wood permeated the air. From the look of these corpses, it seemed they had been killed long ago; their skin was blue, there were telltale holes in their necks, and Kyle realized they had been fed upon, drained of blood.

Rynd’s work.

As the fog continued to part, Kyle spotted hundreds – no thousands – of bodies, all hanging. It was obvious that they’d all been kept alive for some time, tortured slowly for days. It was sadistic, malicious stuff.

Kyle admired it. It was something he himself would have done in his heyday.

Kyle knew that Rynd had to be very, very close.

Suddenly, out of the mist, there appeared a solitary figure, slowly approaching. Kyle squinted into the fog, trying to make out who it was.

And when he realized, his heart stopped.

It couldn’t be.

Standing there, before him, was his mother. His real mother, his human mother, before he was ever turned. It was the one person he loved most in the world, the one person who could recall what a kind person he had been before he’d been turned – and the one person who reminded him of his own humanity.

Kyle felt as if he’d been struck through the heart. Pangs of guilt and remorse tore him apart.

At the sight of her, he dropped to his knees, and wept.

“Mother!” Kyle yelled, weeping like a child.

She came closer to him, arms outstretched, a compassionate smile on her face.

Kyle could not comprehend what she was doing in this time and place. Had she come to ask him to repent?

“Come to me, my child,” she said, beckoning him.

Kyle rose to his feet, and took a step forward to her.

The second he did, he regretted it.

Suddenly, he felt his whole world turn upside down, as he went rocketing upwards into the air. This was followed by a loud creaking noise, and as Kyle swung side to side, staring down at the ground, he realized he’d stepped into a trap.

The silver rope had tightened around his feet, had propelled him high into the air, twenty feet off the ground, dangling upside down. Kyle reached up to tear it off, but realized it was vampire-resistant material, one he could not tamper with.