Page 19 of Loved to Death

As he pushed her into a gallop, he realized with shock that his sexual desire was entirely gone both physically and emotionally. He’d fed less than three minutes ago and the lust wasgone. The resentment, fear, and anger he felt toward Polly all boiled over into a seething hatred.Three minutes is all I needed?Three minutes was the difference between involuntarily acting on his disgusting base desires and being able to control his body. She’d been alone for years before turning him, so she had to know that the fervor faded quickly, and yet she’d never seen fit to give him those three minutes before forcing herself on him in his moment of weakness.

A growl of rage came from his chest as he leaned forward to push the horse to its maximum speed.

***

Thomas awoke to the familiar sensation of pressure all around him. Last night came back to him in a rush and he started to dig his way out of the shallow grave. He’d run the horse all night. Pushed her to her limit, only stopping when daybreak was nigh. He’d dug a pit quicker than he’d thought possible, taken everything off the horse, and given her a little push toward the creek he’d been following for an hour. He hadn’t let her eat all night, and the light of the encroaching sun was making his skin itch, so he had to let her forage for food instead of tying her up before climbing into the grave for the day.

Once he’d climbed out of his resting place, he dusted off his clothes, shook out his hair, and scanned the immediate area for the horse. Not seeing her, he whistled. When she didn’t come running, his stomach sank. Had she wandered so far away in search of food that she couldn’t hear him? Or had he pushed her too far yesterday? She wasn’t a young mare, and due to the nature of their traveling lifestyle, she didn’t always get the food, water, and rest that she needed for optimal health. He whistled for her again in the opposite direction.

“Damn it!”

Without the horse, he wouldn’t be able to travel as fast as he wanted. He whistled again and started following her tracks down to the creek. He spotted a brown heap behind some rocks in the distance.

“No, no, no,” he muttered, running toward it. He stopped several feet away when the swarming flies became apparent. He closed his eyes as guilt rose in his chest. “I’m sorry,” he said before turning to run back the way he’d come.

Glaring morosely at the saddle, bridle, and saddlebags beside his makeshift grave, he leaned down to grab the saddlebags. He flung them over his shoulder and started running west as fast as he could. While running, he scanned the landscape for signs of human inhabitants. He was desperate enough to steal a horse. Feeding on its owner to hide his theft would be a perk, because just as Polly had predicted, killinghadbecome easier with time.

Less than an hour later, Thomas still hadn’t come across any humans. A faint noise made him freeze in his tracks. The sound of hoofbeats in the distance made his stomach roll. His head whipped around to look behind him. Polly was half a mile away on a black horse galloping toward him.

An unmanly shriek came out of his throat as panic took over. His eyes snapped forward and he willed himself to run faster as his stomach lurched. He knew he couldn’t outrun a horse, but the instinct to flee was overpowering.

The chase didn’t last long, and before he’d moved past his panic, the horse was beside him. Thomas looked over just in time to see Polly fling herself off the moving horse to tackle him.

The saddlebags were knocked off his shoulder as the two of them rolled onto the ground with Polly landing on top. He scrambled and flailed to escape to no avail. The sound of snapping bones and screams filled the air as Polly made her displeasure known.

***

Thomas awoke disoriented and tried to open his eyes. His right eye wouldn’t open. His left eye opened just wide enough to see the night sky above him. It would be daybreak in less than an hour. His entire body ached and when he tried to take a breath, stabbing pain in his chest made him stop. Polly had broken several of his ribs in her rage. He’d passed out before she was done, so he wasn’t sure what else might be broken. He tried moving his fingers and toes to assess the damage. His left leg was definitely broken, but both arms seemed to be functional.

“It’s about time.” Polly’s voice came to him from the left.

He turned his head to see her sitting next to him on the ground.

She held her wrist out toward his mouth. Instead of biting, he turned away.

“Don’t be difficult. I fed from the horse a few minutes ago.” She grabbed his chin to keep his face steady and pressed her wrist to his lips. “Drink.”

A wave of despair washed over him as he bit into her flesh and let the blood flow down his throat. Secondhand animal blood wasn’t enough to completely mend his bones, but it would start the process.

When he finished, she took her wrist away and licked the puncture wounds shut.

He lay still, letting his body heal as much as it would. He watched while Polly fed from the horse a second time and then dug a grave for them. When the grave was ready, she stood by his head, leaned down to grasp his shoulders, and started dragging him to the indentation in the earth. The movement jarred his healing bones, making him gasp and whimper, but it didn’t take long to get him in place.

“Why?” he asked, looking up at her.

“The sun will be up soon.”

“No. Why do you keep me by your side when you know I hate it?”

She climbed into the grave beside him and gently petted his hair. “Because I created you. Mistake or not, you’re mine. My responsibility, my burden, my charge. I have to ensure that you’re following my rules, and not becoming some wild thing that I unleashed onto the world. I can’t let you become the type of man my husband was.”

“You think I could everenjoykilling or torturing people?” He shouldn’t care what she thought, but it still hurt that she could think so little of him.

“Any man can be conditioned to enjoy killing, especially when they derive physical pleasure from the act.”

He put a hand on the side of her face, stared deeply into her eyes and said, “You’re wrong, Polly. Not all men are like your husband or your father. Some men are decent all the way to their core. I could prove that to you if you’d let me.”

She clasped his wrist to take his hand away from her face and put it down on his chest before kissing his forehead. “You’re decent because I’m keeping you that way, silly boy, not because it’s inherent.”

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