Obsessed Page 7

Then, finally, over the misty horizon, Scarlet made out the features of a tall tower. It was a black silhouette against the murky sky, but the image perfectly matched the one she’d seen shining from her locket.

  “There it is,” she whispered to the unconscious Sage.

  She couldn’t let herself feel relief yet. It was too soon, too precarious, she might still fail in her quest to save him. But she was one step closer and that thought bolstered her.

  She tipped her head down and flew faster, propelling her and Sage toward the tower.

  As she drew closer, she picked out more features. The tower looked as though it were a million years old, constructed of huge square stones like a Mayan temple. It stretched up impossibly high, the tip disappearing into the clouds. Scarlet tried to imagine the people who had built it all those centuries ago. They must have worked by hand. There was no way such a building could have been constructed by humans—this was an architectural feat surely performed by vampires or Immortalists.

  Around the base of the tower, huge waves lapped. But Scarlet noticed that the structure wasn’t entirely surrounded by water. Just one part of it adjoined the sea. The rest was attached to an island brimming with lush forests. She made a beeline for the undergrowth.

  As she ducked through the canopy with her precious bundle in her arms, shadows engulfed them, painting lines of light across Sage’s pale face and making his sweat glisten.

  Scarlet touched down, her feet landing in a blanket of forest mulch. The air was pungent with the smell of bark and leaves, and filled with the buzz of insect wings.

  Scarlet laid Sage beside a fallen trunk, propping him up. He was naked from the waist up, his torso revealing the brutal torture he’d received at the hands of Octal. The sight of him made Scarlet weep.

  She stroked his cheek and his eyes fluttered open.

  “Where are we?” he gasped, his words punctuated by wheezes.

  Scarlet smiled at him, trying to look reassuring, hoping that he wouldn’t notice her puffy red eyes from all the crying she’d done. She squeezed his hand.

  “Somewhere quiet,” she said. “Somewhere safe.”

  She didn’t want to tell him that she was still chasing a cure. In the caves he’d seemed adamant that it was over, that she should let him die. But Scarlet knew that was just the pain talking. That was the whole point of Octal’s torture—to make him give up.

  Too bad for them that I’m not the sort of girl who gives up easily, Scarlet thought to herself.

  She turned her gaze back to Sage. His head was bobbing as though it was taking him a great effort to stay awake. Scarlet leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against his mouth. His lips tasted as salty as her tears.

  “Get some rest now,” she whispered.

  Sage’s eyes fluttered closed and he let his chin drop to his chest, as though he’d been waiting for her permission to sleep.

  Scarlet swallowed her resolve and stood. She glanced around at the thick foliage. She could just about make out the tower over the thick tangle of branches and leaves above. She began to make in that direction.

  She hadn’t gotten more than ten paces when movement up ahead made her stop in her tracks. There was an animal just the other side of a low tuft of shrubbery. Immediately her stomach growled. The vampire in her was telling her to feast and she had no power to control it.

  Her body worked on an instinct she’d never before possessed. It made her freeze, her breath becoming shallower so as not to make a noise. The background of her vision blurred out so that her sole focus was the shrub before her, rattling as some unknown creature moved behind it.

  The creature must have sensed danger because in a sudden blur it darted away. In a split second Scarlet had taken in a thousand pieces of information—its size and color, its speed, its vulnerabilities—and she pounced, tearing through the forest after it. The creature was deer-like but similar in size to a dog, and Scarlet couldn’t help but think of Ruth, her husky back home. It made her feel sick to think that she could possess these murderous instincts, and that she had no control over them.

  Scarlet tore across the undergrowth, shoving branches out of her way as she ran. The deer-like creature had a better grasp on the terrain and it dodged and weaved expertly. It hopped elegantly over a stream. Scarlet went plunging in after it, splashing gracelessly in the freezing water.

  But despite its upper hand, the deer was no match for a starving vampire. Scarlet reached her prey and leapt on it. She sank her fangs into its neck.

  Its blood was delicious, filling her veins with power and strength. She sat on her knees, devouring the creature, sucking on its blood.

  As soon as it was drained she sat back and took a deep breath. She turned her gaze up to the stars twinkling through the canopy and a silver tear streaked down her cheek.

  She wiped the blood from her lips and looked down at the limp creature.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  But as she stood, she felt a surge of strength wash through her. As much as it disgusted her to kill, she knew she needed it to survive. She was just going to have to accept that this was her new reality.

  She turned on the spot, realizing that in the chase she’d lost her orientation. The trees were so thick here she couldn’t even see properly through the tops. The tower was nowhere to be seen.

  Scarlet’s heart began to race as she realized she was lost.

  “No, no, no,” she muttered under her breath.

  Her throat was constricting with panic. How could she be so stupid? To have gotten lost when she was just a stone’s throw from a possible cure for Sage. If he died now, it would all be her fault.

  She turned on the spot, looking wildly around her, trying to decipher the path she had taken to get here. But the trees were too thick, the branches too many, and there was no way of knowing which way she had come or which way she needed to go. In her panic, she couldn’t help but think of Sage lying there, cold and in pain, his breath shallow. If he died alone she would never forgive herself.

  She couldn’t help but let the tears fall.

  Then suddenly something changed. The gloom around her seemed to lift. She cleared the blurry tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and realized that her locket was glowing once again. The light coming from the hinges banished the shadows around her.

  “Of course,” she said aloud, “my tears open the locket.”

  She clicked open the two halves. Instead of showing her the image of the tower this time, a thin thread of light came out, floating through the air like seaweed tendrils under water. Scarlet realized immediately that the light was guiding her.

  She ran, following the strange threadlike glow through the thickets. Branches snagged her, tore at her clothes, but she ignored them. Her mind was entirely focused on reaching her destination.

  She heard the sound of breaking waves in the distance and realized she must be close. Then all at once she had burst from the forest, leaving behind the shadows and replacing the pungent aroma of trees with the sharp, salty smell of the ocean.

  She found herself at the bottom of a row of steep steps that led up to the tower.

  She staggered back, her breath stolen from her lungs by the sight of it. The building was so tall she couldn’t see the top. The bricks were laid haphazardly and the steps were eroded, bowing in the middle from generations of feet walking up them. Scarlet wasn’t sure how the ancient tower was still standing. Like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, it seemed to lilt to one side, lurching toward the ocean.

  Scarlet saw that the tendril of light from her locket was winding its way up the staircase. It wanted her to go inside. She swallowed hard, afraid of what might await her.

  Then she snapped her locket closed, shutting out the light, and began her ascent up the stone steps.

  Her destiny, she knew, life or death, lay before her.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Caitlin held on tightly to Caleb as he tore through the countryside on the roaring motorcycle, twisting
and turning, leaning so far she nearly thought they would fall. His motorcycle skills were about as terrifying as his plane flying. He twisted the throttle, making the engine roar, pushing it ever faster.

  “So how the hell do you propose we get to Egypt?” he cried over his shoulder, his voice swallowed by the wind.

  Caitlin chewed her lip. She’d been thinking the same thing. Even though they’d outrun the police in Boldt Castle, that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be more after them. It wasn’t like they could just go to an airport and hop on a plane without someone at customs recognizing them.

  “I have an idea,” Caitlin said.

  “Go on,” Caleb replied.

  But Caitlin didn’t get a chance to explain because just then, coming from behind, a strange shape appeared on the horizon.

  “What is that?” Caleb gasped, his wide-eyed gaze fixed in the rearview mirror.

  Caitlin turned around in her seat and squinted at the shape. It looked like a storm cloud or a swarm of birds. That’s when she realized it wasn’t birds at all. It was people. Immortalists. They were flying and they were headed straight for them.

  “Caleb!” Caitlin screamed in her husband’s ear. “You’ve got to go. Go, go, go!”

  Caleb twisted the throttle and the bike began to accelerate even more, picking up a terrifying speed that made Caitlin’s stomach churn.

  Still, it wasn’t enough. The Immortalists pursuing them were gaining, coming closer and closer, until they were close enough for Caitlin to make out some of their features. Their eyes flashed with murderous intent.

  “Why are they following us?” Caleb cried against the roaring wind.

  “Scarlet,” Caitlin replied. “They want Scarlet. And they think we’ll lead them to her.”

  “Then we’d better make sure we don’t,” Caleb replied.

  He jerked the handlebars left and the bike careened sharply down another winding path. Caitlin gasped, her stomach doing somersaults as Caleb threw the bike from one side to the next. They started to pick up speed as they raced down the hillside.

  Finally having caught her breath, Caitlin looked behind her again. The Immortalists were closing in.

  “We’re can’t outrun them,” she cried, desperately.

  “Yes we can,” Caleb returned.

  Caitlin looked ahead and saw that they were fast approaching a tunnel. A sign above it proclaimed that it had a low ceiling and was unsuitable for trucks. Caleb raced toward it.

  The tight squeeze had a funneling effect on the Immortalist swarm. Some burst through with no problem, but there was only enough room for them to fly three abreast and the others had to slow. The crowd bottlenecked around the outside of the tunnel, some flying too fast to stop and careening into the others at great speed. Despite the wind rushing in her ears, Caitlin could make out the sound of their pained yelps and groans as they smashed into one another.

  “Amazing!” she cried to her husband.

  But they weren’t out of danger yet. A strong crowd of at least ten Immortalists had made it into the tunnel and were gaining on them. It was clear to Caitlin, however, that without room to soar and without the less dense air to glide along they were struggling to keep up pace. Flying through the tunnel was hard work for them.

  “It’s just like with an airplane,” Caleb said. “It’s easier to glide in thinner air.”

  “So we make sure they stay low?” Caitlin replied. “See if we can tire them out?”

  “I’ve got a feeling that the bike will give out before they do,” Caleb replied.

  The tunnel came to an end and the motorbike bumped back onto the roads. Caitlin looked back and realized that some of the Immortalists caught in the bottleneck had flown up over the tunnel and were ready to rejoin their pack. Their group was stronger again, and now they had the open air to glide through.

  “Now what?” Caitlin cried, her heart leaping into her throat.

  The road was beginning to widen, indicating they were approaching civilization of some sort—a village or town. But first there were rows upon rows of fields and farm yards.

  Caleb twisted the handlebars and the motorbike veered into a field of corn. Caitlin realized what he was doing. He was heading straight for an open barn. He was hoping to maneuver the Immortalists through difficult terrain.

  The bike whizzed into the first barn.

  It was filled with cows. They lifted their heads and mooed their disapproval as the bike roared through. But, Caitlin noted, the Immortalists weren’t behind.

  “They’re not stupid enough to follow,” she cried. “They’ll just fly over the roof.”

  “I know,” Caleb replied.

  Then he hit the brake and twisted the handlebar, making the motorbike screech and turn sharply on its side. Caitlin gripped on for dear life. When the bike righted itself again, she looked up and saw that they were back facing the way they had come. Caleb was trying to outsmart the Immortalists.

  They raced back out the barn. Caitlin glanced over the roof top. Sure enough, the Immortalist swarm was racing over the roofs in the wrong direction, expecting them to emerge from the other end of the barn. She watched as they realized their mistake and came to a sudden, angry halt, before doubling back on themselves and racing back the way they had come. They were still coming for them, but Caleb’s maneuver had brought them a little bit of breathing space.

  Caitlin held on tight as Caleb steered toward another barn. This one was full of pigs. The stench was unbearable.

  “You can’t trick them twice,” Caitlin shouted in Caleb’s ear.

  But this time, Caleb didn’t turn the bike around. This time, as he drove through the barn, he knocked open the gate locks of the pens. The pigs were smart enough to know that an unlocked pen meant freedom, and they rushed for the gates, causing a stampede.

  Caleb burst out the other end of the barn. Sure enough, the Immortalists had been expecting him to pull the same trick as before. They were all waiting to pounce at the entrance of the barn. But instead of Caitlin and Caleb, they were confronted by a herd of pigs.

  Caitlin couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, as she turned back and watched the Immortalist army grounded by nothing more than a gang of stinking pigs.

  “Have I told you recently how much I love you?” Caitlin called into Caleb’s ear.

  Caleb laughed gleefully and maneuvered the bike back onto the main roads, heading once again in the direction of the village, and leaving their pursuers behind in the wrecked farm yard.

  “So you were going to tell me how to get to Egypt?” Caleb said to Caitlin once they were driving steadily again.

  “Actually,” Caitlin said, “I was thinking of a detour.”

  There was a pause. Then Caleb said in a strained voice, “A detour?”

  “Yes.” Caitlin cleared her throat, feeling a little awkward. “To Florida.”

  In the pause that followed, Caitlin could almost feel Caleb’s frustration radiating off him. First she makes him fly to Boldt Castle to find Scarlet, then she changes her mind and tells him they have to go to Egypt to find a cure for vampirism, and now she was talking about Florida. She was putting her poor husband through the wringer and pushing his trust to the maximum.

  “Should I even bother asking why?” Caleb muttered.

  “We need to get to my grandmother’s attic,” Caitlin replied.

  “Why?” came Caleb’s clipped response.

  “When I was talking to Aidan about the sphinx, something triggered a memory inside of me,” Caitlin replied. “I can’t quite put my finger on it but I know that my grandmother had all kinds of artifacts in her attic. I have this feeling that she’ll have something to help us locate the vampire city.”

  “Right,” Caleb replied wearily. “So we’re still going to Egypt. Just via your grandma’s attic. Because of a hunch. And how much time exactly do you think we have to find this cure for our daughter?”

  Caitlin tensed. She hated it when Caleb couldn’t see her point of view, or when it f
elt like he suddenly wasn’t on her side anymore. This was their daughter they were talking about. Surely he understood that she only had Scarlet’s best interest at heart. Hadn’t he learned to trust her yet? If she could sense that their daughter was in danger from miles off, surely Caleb could accept that going to her grandmother’s was more than just a hunch, that she had some deep, primal instinct inside of her compelling her to go there.

  “I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to trust me, Caleb,” she replied tersely.

  “Like I trusted you with the whole ejecting out the airplane thing?” he shot back. “Do you have any idea how useful it would be right now to still have an airplane at our disposal?”

  No sooner had he said the words than the village they’d been heading toward materialized before them at the bottom of the valley. It looked like the typical backwater farming town, with a gas station and an auto salvage yard filled with rusty cars and retired tractors. All of a sudden, Caitlin saw something that caught her eye.

  “Caleb, I don’t believe it!” she cried, grabbing her husband’s arm.

  Caleb looked left. And there is was. Amongst the wreckage of beat-up pickup trucks and crushed vans stood an old biplane.

  “I don’t believe it,” Caleb said.

  “Do you think it still works?” Caitlin asked, feeling elevated by hope.

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  Caleb steered into the auto salvage yard and raced past the rows of cars. He drew to a halt beside the biplane. Caitlin leapt from the motorbike. Her legs were trembling from the vibrations of the bike. It felt good to be on solid ground, though she hoped she’d soon be off it and airborne.

  Caleb wasted no time inspecting the aircraft.

  “I haven’t flown one of these things since my training days,” he said, looking in awe at the relic. “We got to fly them in air displays at the weekends sometimes. Beautiful machines. Amazing to handle.”

  Caitlin smiled.

  “So?” she said. “What do you think?”

  “It’s in good condition,” Caleb cried.

  “Can it get us to Florida?” Caitlin asked.