Chapter 20
THE POISONER
The wooded area surrounding the farmhouse was dense, almost obscuring the house from where I stood. I did not intend to hunt today, but I needed time away from everyone, to get lost for a while. If I were lucky, maybe an unlucky creature would cross my path, and I would have something to butcher.
The sleet crunched under my boot as I stepped over the logs and twigs along the path.
The sun was rising and adorning the icy branches of the forest. Despite the cold, the sun was pleasant on my face as I passed between trees.
My heavy attire helped some with insulation.
I wore pants and a jacket that I had taken from a test subject a while back.
I wish I knew the craftsman, but there were no tags.
The rifle was heavy, the strap weighing on my shoulder.
As I approached a downward hill, I spotted the most regal sight.
In between the thickness of the forest trees was a buck.
He was well-muscled and steam rose from his body, as if he had been running.
His antlers stretched high to the heavens, three points.
He was perfect. Majestic in ways that I wish I could leave be, but we could use some extra meat for dry reserves.
I knelt down and lifted my rifle steadily, careful not to make a sound or even breathe, for that matter.
Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum.
I watched him in line with my barrel, waiting for just the right pause between each thump of my heart within my chest. One spell of stillness.
He lifted his head quickly, his ears flicking to turn toward whatever sound he thought he heard. Steam burst from his flared nostrils like an angry engine, standing as still as the trees.
Snap!
The illusion of stillness was broken when he leaped, the ground beneath me vibrating with diminishing frequency as he ran farther away.
I lowered the rifle, swiveling my head to my surroundings. Everything was still, even the birds pausing their cheerful trill.
Snap!
Another sound over my shoulder. But when I checked, nothing except the path from whence I came.
Slowly, I rose from my knees, keeping a cautious grip on my gun.
The sun had disappeared, the overcast clouds rolling in and covering the forest in a blanket of shade that somehow made it colder than it already was.
A low, rattled clicking bounced through the wooded area. One would assume that it was a woodpecker, but I knew better.
Raising the gun, I continued forward. I avoided stepping on any sticks, only stepping in patches of snow in the middle of a small clearing between the trees. I watched my surroundings through the sightline of my barrel.
For an instant, everything was still again.
A stream piddled as the ice melted around it. The white landscape was a stark contrast to the dark, wet bark of the trees. Little sounds here and there made me jump, but I was listening for those insufferable clicks.
Snap!
I whipped around and squeezed the trigger. The gun jolted against my shoulder, a pang of pain as I did so. The shot echoed through the trees, dissipating into the tense air around me. Unfortunately, my bullet would have met a tree, as there was nothing there.
I lowered the gun slightly, looking closely at the scene before me.
“You missed.”
I swung the barrel around, just in time for a gloved hand to grab it at the end.
“Not so fast.” Silas smirked. “What is a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?”
“I still have bullets.”
He yanked the gun from my hands and held it, positioning it at his shoulder and pointing it at me, those unfeeling eyes peering at me from his aim. “Now you don’t. What now?”
“Don’t point that thing at me unless you are committed to pulling that trigger.” I glanced at the blackened inside of the barrel before meeting his eyes again.
“Feisty,” he laughed, lowering the gun slightly as he looked me over. “It might be wise to dull that tongue when there is a rifle in your face.”
“Spare your threats for someone who fears you.” I clenched my fist. “Now give it back; you already scared off my meal.”
“Is that why you are trembling? Because you are not afraid?”
“Buck fever.”
He smirked at me, something flashing behind those eyes. A spark. Nothing good could come of it. “If it truly is buck fever, take off your coat.”
“That’s not—”
“Do it, Alina.” He cocked the hammer, a wild flare to his gaze at the sound.
Whatever witty response I had dried up and caught in my throat, making it hard to swallow. There was only sincerity in his expression.
I did not break eye contact as I popped the buttons one by one, shedding the coat from my shoulders and exposing the blouse underneath.
He touched the tip of the gun to my neck, my pulse pushing against the cold metal with every throb. He dragged it over my throat, making the cold trail down before resting it between my breasts. He tugged the gun to tear open a button on the shirt.
“I don’t think you need this either.” He jabbed the gun at my sternum, pushing down on the next button. “Are you scared?”
“No, but you should be.” I glared. “You will be lucky to sleep even half an hour without worrying about the ways I could get rid of you.”
“You misunderstand my tastes if you think I wouldn’t look forward to such an encounter.” He stepped back a few paces, moving behind me. “Now get rid of those horrid clothes. It is insulting that you would wear something so cheap.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I could take them off for you if you prefer,” he whispered in my ear from behind.
I only responded by reluctantly undoing the rest of the buttons on my shirt, then beginning to take off my pants. When the pants pooled at my ankles, I kicked the boots and garments away. I was left in two layers of wool stockings. It was too cold to be without anything.
Silas kicked the back of my legs to force me to my knees.
“What is the point of this?” I seethed, the stockings soaking with freezing snow.
“Does there have to be a point? I’m just making sure you didn’t get soft in my absence,” he teased, sitting down on a fallen log with the rifle across his lap in front of me.
My knees were becoming numb from touching the cold, wet ground. No matter how hard I tried to keep from shaking, I couldn’t stop the ice from chilling me down to the marrow.
His eyes were full of blood, enjoying this entirely too much.
“Alina,” he called sweetly, pointing to the ground before him as he sat with his legs poised wide.
I lifted my knee.
“Ah-ah!” he scolded, shaking his head.
“What is it?”
His smirk grew wider.
I frowned, lowering my knee down to the frozen ground.
There was no need for wool clothes to keep out the weather; my rage burned within me like a furnace.
Slowly, I placed my hands on the ground, stiffly crawling to him.
It was only a few paces, but it took forever to reach him.
I stopped in front of him, sitting down on my knees and staring at the snow under my palms. My fingers were pale, losing blood flow as well as the color in my limbs. The frost almost burned on contact.
The barrel was placed under my chin, tilting it up to him.
A crazed smile twisted his handsome features as he became infatuated with the display before him.
My gut twisted at the thought of our position.
The way he looked at me in this state. It made me feel in a way that would be shameful to admit.
“You are so captivating when you are angry,” he taunted.
“You are a cruel man.”
“Then tell me to stop.”
I contemplated his words, looking for any sense of a trap. I glanced at the tip of the barrel that touched my cheek before returning my gaze to him.
“Will you still find me pretty if I lose a limb to frostbite?”
“You will have to find other ways to keep warm,” he smirked. “Have you tried touching yourself? It may help.”
“Will you keep me warm?” I lifted my hand to the barrel, caressing it as I dragged my tongue along the cool metal.
He froze in place, but he was intrigued, from the look in his eyes. He followed my tongue along the gun. I think I even saw him swallow.
I leaned up between his legs, placing my hands on his thighs. “You vile things run hotter than humans; you will suffice.” I lifted myself up so we could almost be face-to-face. “Don’t you want to touch me, Silas?”
For once he was quiet. I wasn’t sure if it was due to shock or because he was angry that I wasn’t playing his insufferable game the way he wanted me to.
“Tell me.” I clasped him by the jaw, digging my nails into his cheek as I held his face. “Do you think I will not kill you? Is that why you taunt me?”
“I would think that you would have done so already if you wanted to.” He traced over my hip with his finger.
“What has convinced you that I still won’t?”
“Because I am still breathing.” His lips hovered close to mine.
“Give me your coat,” I whispered to him.
“You haven’t earned that yet.”
“I am so . . . so cold.” I shivered, allowing my free hand to palm over the evident bulge under his trousers. He looked down, but my hand holding his face squeezed and tugged his face up. “Look at me.”
He stared at me through his lashes. I could see his breathing pick up at my demands. It could have been the cold, but I swore a rosy tint graced his stern features.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” I smirked. “Now keep those hands on your knees unless I tell you otherwise.”
To my surprise, he obeyed.
I slipped my hand under the fabric of his pants, his hot skin making the tips of my fingers burn as the blood flowed back to them. He was already erect, the only thing keeping him restrained was his trousers.
I let go of his face so I could pop the buttons of his jacket loose. “Put it on me,” I instructed.
He slipped the coat the rest of the way off. It was a long, dark coat, and it was lined with some type of fur. When he draped it over my shoulders, his hands lingered by my neck.