Chapter Two
Damien found that he wasn't the only one who noticed Sara's growing discomfort as the evening progressed. Mary did her best to put the young woman at her ease, but the growing crowd in the popular restaurant had an adverse effect on the pale girl. Nicholas gave them only the barest of facts, preferring to wait until they were alone to share the rest of the story. Damien knew only that Sara was involved in the Witness Protection Program and needed a safe haven to live as well as a gainful means of employment. Watching her now, he surmised that whoever she needed protection from was one nasty son-of-a-bitch. Suddenly he wanted to get the whole story.
"Miss Wheeling, would you be more comfortable moving this discussion upstairs? I have a spacious and quiet flat, with more that enough room for everyone." He gazed at her with quiet understanding eyes.
She looked at him, clearly startled. "I….well…yes, actually. I would like that, thank you." Her voice was husky, as if she didn't use it often.
He glanced around at the others, "Shall we then?"
As soon as everyone had made themselves comfortable, Nicholas glanced at Sara as if for permission before beginning. She gave him a barely discernible nod and he began,
"Sara came to our attention 18 months ago when she left her husband, Victor Soriano, you may know him as 'The Butcher'." The other three exchanged startled glances.
"I remember hearing about him." exclaimed Simon. "He and his family are well known drug runners, arms dealers, you name it, and they've got their hands in it. God help you if you crossed a Soriano, they just sent Vic after you, and all your kin would find were assorted body parts."
"Yes, well, Sara was only 17 when Vic swept her off her feet and married her, he can be a charming bastard when he puts his mind to it" Nicholas continued, "he then proceeded to make her life a living hell. She came to us with airtight evidence against him in return for protection from the family. We took him into custody; he was tried, convicted, sentenced and set free all due to a technicality. Now, he's after her, and this is the safest place I can think of. He's got people in every corner, from cops to politicians. I can't trust anyone. She needs time to heal and to think without the fear that he will pop out of nowhere and drag her back into her nightmare."
Damien turned to Sara and willed her to look into his eyes. "There is a space here that can be transformed into a comfortable flat; however, it will take time. In the meantime, Miss Wheeling, you are more than welcome to be my guest. I can assure you, you are quite safe here, and he will not harm you while you are under my protection."
Mary gently took Sara's hand. "You can trust us, Sara. We will protect you. Damien is the best chance you have. He will not let that bastard near you."
In bed that night Sara lie awake listening to the stillness of unfamiliar surroundings. The bed was a sumptuous affair with soft cotton sheets and down comforter, like sleeping on a cloud. It felt so good to her bruised soul and abused body. Lord, was she exhausted. Bone weary, soul deep…so tired of running. He seemed supernatural the way he always showed up, no matter how far she ran. He always came for her. And the punishments, oh god, the punishments for running. She didn't know how she lived through the last one. This time, though, she really did it. She went to the cops. To be precise, the FBI. She was a snitch. If he caught her this time, she wouldn't survive, and it wouldn't be quick. She'd seen what he did to the other one. He'd made sure of that. He'd made her watch….the whole time. It had taken hours. Nicholas had brought her here, saying it was the only place she would be safe. Safe? What is safety?
Who can I trust? Nicholas? Mr. Iscariot? Myself? She had absolutely no idea anymore. Slowly she fell into a fitful sleep.
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The bakery smelled so good in the morning, like vanilla, cinnamon and warm yeast. Kneading the dough, she lost herself in thought as she listened to the classical music piping through the sound system. Vaguely, she heard the owner greet an early customer out front, then a strange, sharp cracking noise. Startled she looked up only to see a familiar figure loom in the doorway.
"Hello, my darling."
"Oh, god, no…"
"I have missed you my beloved wife."
He forced her out to the front of the bakery where her employer, and by now best friend was keening on the floor beside the fallen body of her husband.
"Now you will see what I do to those who you care for, my love…" he nodded to one of his henchmen, who reached down to the distraught woman and dragged her up.
"No!!! Please…Vic…I'll do anything…don't hurt anyone else, please…" she should have known, begging had never helped before.
His eyes were dead and he was smiling as the torture began…
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Damien heard a choked cry coming from his guest's room. He knocked on the door to ask if everything was alright when a scream rent the night. He burst through the door and found Sara sitting bolt upright in bed, eyes wide-opened but unseeing lost in some internal nightmare. She let out another bone-chilling cry that cut straight through his heart. He gathered her close and rocked her, murmuring reassurances into her hair until he felt her gradually warm and come back from wherever she had been. She raised her head and gazed into his eyes, then promptly burst into tears, holding onto him as though he were a lifeline.
Damien, formerly known as Dracula, held on right back.
