Her body jostled against his, her head and arms slapping and smacking his back. He didn’t want to think about how holding her in this position was further damaging her broken arm. Couldn’t be helped. He followed a barely discernible animal trail, brambles and bushes grabbing at them both.
He’d spent many a night out in nature. Had found that communing with God’s creation comforted him. But tonight the forest seemed dead. Dead quiet. Where were the peepers and crickets? The only sounds were of his footfalls and the fading emergency sirens. To be so surrounded by the natural world and hear only man-made noises was odd.
It felt like forever and no time had passed when he finally emerged next to his car. He’d hidden the vehicle two miles from the property on an isolated dirt road. He’d learned from his mistake of parking too close. That had nearly gotten him caught the night he killed the ancestor.
A dog howled in the distance. A pet? Or a scent dog? Didn’t really matter now.
Oh, so gently, he settled the Dragon in the passenger seat, draping her broken arm across her body, but it kept sliding. He shouldn’t take the time for this, but he couldn’t leave her injured. He stripped off his outer shirt and tied it around her neck in a makeshift sling. By the dome light, he saw the area just above her elbow swelling. He threaded her hand into the sling, adjusting the fit until her joint was stabilized. The best he could do for the moment.
He got behind the wheel and drove. The car’s headlights illuminated an unfamiliar world of winding, hilly, remote back roads. Where he lived, the land was absolutely flat. The night scenery here was eerie and beautiful at the same time. So much like the Dragon had been.
They passed no other vehicles. If it weren’t for the occasional solitary house with its lights on, King would’ve sworn they were the only two people on earth. He reached over and pressed his fingers into her neck, searching for a pulse, wanting to make certain she didn’t have an adverse reaction to the drug.
After driving an hour—surely a safe distance away—he pulled over alongside an abandoned road and flipped on the interior lights. She sat exactly as she had the entire drive. Her body leaned against the passenger door, still asleep from the effects of the drug. Tenderly, aware of her broken right arm, he adjusted her position in the seat and turned her head to face him.
He wanted to see her. Really look at her. Take her in. Even when he’d captured her, he hadn’t been allowed the time to drink his fill of her appearance. It had been feared that any contact with her could corrupt him.
He grabbed a handful of tissues from the travel-sized box he kept in the console, wet them with the half-empty bottle of water, and began wiping the blood from her face. The tang of tarnished pennies choked out the oxygen. The air was so thick with the scent he could practically taste it on his tongue. His stomach soured, the contents curdling and threatening to erupt, but he pushed on, cleaning her skin until she was fresh-faced and lovely.
He tossed the wad of soiled tissues out the window, then let himself absorb her appearance.
Her face was…his face. He saw himself in the shape of her brows and eyes, in the curve of her lips and the color of her hair. It was as if Shayla contributed nothing to the makeup of their daughter. She would’ve been so pleased. She had always said she wanted their child to look like him.
Shayla… No. It had been decades and still he couldn’t think of her.
He refocused on the young woman in front of him. “Isslleenn.” Her name—the name Shayla had picked for her—felt awkward in his mouth. He’d never spoke her name aloud, had never allowed himself to think of her as his daughter. Calling her by Queen’s name for her—the Dragon—had always been safer.
But now, things were different. They could have a future. He’d teach her everything he knew about the Lord. He’d make certain the evil never again took root in her. He’d protect her and keep her from harm. Forever and ever. Amen.
*
The road ran parallel with the water, winding and curving with the river. Sunshine peeked from the horizon, slanting brilliant rays of gold over the landscape. No matter how many sunrises King experienced, on the river they were a pure, majestic thing to behold, a time when nature and spirit combined to make a godly moment.
He slowed and pulled in next to Chosen One’s car. Chosen One leaned against the hood of his expensive sedan, staring out at their sacred place upon the water. He was dressed for work—fine tailored suit and expensive tie, the exact attire one expected from the mayor.