Chapter Six

In truth, he spent long hours plotting his revenge. As soon as the birth was past, there would be a reckoning. His bitterness and pain had long since turned to hatred. It raged in the back of his mind, never resting, chipping away at what was left of his soul. There was no escaping it; the fury mounted with each passing day, threatening to consume him. Sheer stubbornness was all that kept him from exploding. Anne was nearly full term; it couldn't be much longer. He had to control his rage for just a short time, just a few more days.

The only thing he'd managed to accomplish over the past several months was to determine that there was indeed only one way out of the lair. That meant getting by those damned birdmen while Anne slept. His first attempt at that had left him with a great reluctance to try it again, but if he wanted out he was going to have to find a way. He couldn't stay there after the birth.

He was going to have to kill her. There was no way that she would sit back and just let him kill the baby. He had to do it though. The child was an abomination; he could feel it. David nodded to himself, resolutely quashing the sense of horror and aversion he felt. He couldn't let a little squeamishness stop him from doing what must be done. For him, scruples were a thing of the past; they had to be.

Each day, while he cowered underground, he swore that he would not give in to the Hunger again. Each night as the moon rose, so too did the ravenous craving. He had managed to ignore it once, but only once. It had left him weak, too helpless to fend for himself. Anne had dragged him out to feed the next night, and despite himself he had done so. It seemed that each time he fed, he was less willing to forego it. The exhilaration and the towering lust that came with sating his unnatural thirst were fast becoming too much a part of him.

At least he wasn't dependent on Anne to assuage his lust anymore. He'd gained enough control to slake his need before satisfying his hunger when he hunted. Kills made at the height of passion were somehow far more sustaining than any other, speaking to some primal beast inside him. He was beginning to enjoy the seduction and the chase almost as much as the kill itself. In some small way, that made his existence almost bearable despite the interminable horror.

Once the baby had been born, he'd rid himself of both of them. She'd have to leave the infant while she fed; it would be child's play to smother it while she was out. Or, if he hunted with her, he could kill her while they were out. If he did that, he could leave the infant alone in the crypt while he made a run for it. That sounded more like it would work. That way, there would be no one left to hunt him down, and he wouldn't actually have the child's blood on his hands. It was the perfect solution. All he had to do was wait.

He was watching her again. She could feel his eyes burning into her spine; there was no escaping that baleful glare. It was unnerving enough that she almost wished she hadn't lied, telling him that sunlight would harm him. He'd be long gone if she hadn't.

She could just imagine what he'd do when he discovered the lie. Anne shuddered slightly at the thought. David would have understood; the creature he had become would not. She could feel the savagery that ate at him, slowly eroding his control. The long and pointed silences were beginning to take their toll; it was all she could do to stay in the same room with him.

In her clearer moments, she wasn't sure why she bothered. She should have just killed him and saved herself the trouble. Something held her back, numbing her fears; something she couldn't isolate. David's very existence threatened her life, and the life of their unborn child. If the Council of the Anakarre discovered them, they would all die. Her life had become a nightmare, a constant battle of will against will. The stress was killing her.

To survive the birth would take every ounce of strength she possessed, and she had no doubt that he would interfere somehow. There was no other reason for him not to have left long ago. Perhaps she should leave while he slept during the day. Sunlight wouldn't harm her; she was an Anakarre not some devil-spawn. The birth was only days away, she had to be safe by then. Leaving seemed to be the only way.

David stretched languidly; he felt secure and well rested for the first time in months. Tonight he and Anne would hunt together for the last time. He could hardly wait, so great was the excitement that stirred within him. He meant to hunt well; the more he fed, the stronger he would be. He had long since ceased to feel much remorse for his victims. They had become merely a means to an end, faceless nothings ensuring his survival.

As he lay there savoring his anticipation, he suddenly realized that something was wrong. It was far too quiet in the lair. Usually Anne was up rattling around by the time he woke. Tonight, there was no sound. Not the slightest whisper disturbed the still air. Cautiously, he raised his head and looked around. Everything looked all right. Except for Anne's absence, all was as it should be.

Rising from his bed, he crept to the doorway of her chamber and listened at the door. He heard nothing. He'd have to look. Steeling himself, he stepped inside. The room was empty! There was no sign of Anne, not the slightest trace. Somehow, she had slipped away during the day. The ramifications of that slammed into him with the force of a sledgehammer.

He had been duped. She was gone. Out of his reach, beyond his control. Rage rose with a speed David could not counter, burning away all rational thought. All the pent-up savagery burst free, loosing the madness he had been fighting. Somehow, he would find her. She would pay for this. Someday soon.

She had a slim head start, only a few hours. She would have to make them count. Having a few centuries more experience would help; she knew ways to travel that he'd never dreamed of. She would use the ley lines to cross from one node to another. There was a node in the woods half a day from the henge. If she could elude him for one day, long enough to make the Crossing, she'd be away. He'd never find her.

She was going home; home to the lands of her ancestors. In the heart of the desert, hidden in the temples she'd be safe. Rubbing a hand gently across the swell of her belly, she began her preparations for the spell. As long as David didn't find her everything would be fine.

Hunger, growing. Movement, cramped in the small space. Dim light, filtered through flesh. The sting of magic in the air. Mother was moving, running the lines. Good. The time neared. Soon, so soon. Must wait now. Soon though, soon he could feed…

(c) M.C. Sak 1999