A/N: Just a short follow-up chapter so you dot all kill me for the cliffie!
Arabella's face seemed to be miles below as his foot came out in a hard kick.
He barely missed her already clearly injured cheek as his aim struck true right under Adnah's chin and knocked him back so hard that he flipped and nearly rolled headfirst into the river.
He was distantly aware of Arabella rolling onto her side the instant she was free of the pressure of Adnah's body, spitting repeatedly and weeping in harsh gasps. The sound alone was enough to stoke his fury, and he was almost relieved he hadn't gotten a good look at her wounds.
He didn't even pause to glance down at her. His eyes were set firmly on Adnah, and he kept right on moving towards him as Arabella rolled, his foot coming down where she'd been less than a second beforehand.
Adnah recovered swiftly from the foot to his jaw, shoving himself up onto one elbow and reaching up to catch the next kick aimed at his chest. His one-handed block barely slowed Erik down, who changed the direction of his kick so that he stomped his foot down hard, bringing Adnah's hand with it and crushing the man's thumb so that he screamed in surprised pain.
The sound was utterly gorgeous to his enraged ears.
Without even a slight hesitation, Erik brought back one curled fist and slammed it into his victims' cheek, following through long enough to shove the gypsy's face to the needle-covered ground. He silently relished the feel and sound of bone on stone at the impact. It felt so good that he didn't even pull his fisted hand back before uncurling his fingers and locking it into Adnah's thick hair and beginning to lift and shove his head repeatedly, as though the gypsy's head were a boxing glove. He was dearly hoping to hear the eggshell crack of a splintering skull.
The gypsy struggled, his feet kicking randomly and his hands flying up to dig furrows of torn flesh and rivulets of blood into the corpselike wrists and hand clinging to his hair. His struggles were nowhere near as coordinated as his own intended victims had been. There was a sharp crack as his nose broke at the second slam into the riverbank, and Erik uttered a sigh of bloodthirsty satisfaction. He threw Adnah's face three more times into the rock that had been cleared of needles by their struggle, still striving for that even bigger crunch of bone. When he failed after the eighth try, he pulled back his enemies head and wrapped his free hand firmly around his throat. One leg lifted enough to swing over Adnah's kicking and struggling legs, lowering himself so that the full weight of his upper body pinned Adnah's hips beneath him. His hold on Adnah's throat was so tight that he could actually see the impressions his fingers made.
All the brutal gypsy could do was struggle soundlessly for air as Erik brought his lips close to Adnah's ear. Slowly, he began to pull him back, making Adnah's body arch unnaturally backward until everything from the hips up looked ready to snap.
"How…" he managed in a guttural voice filled with rage; so startled by the ground-glass sound of his own voice that it all but jerked him out of the moment. "…dare you?"
He let the rage and bloodlust continue to flow for a few precious more seconds, relishing the suffering of a man who had helped put him through so much Hell. He'd never felt such unrivaled power before, and certainly never such pure rage. He was ready to crouch over his former captor for hours, watching him struggle for breath with the eagerness of a child unwrapping its' first Christmas present.
Erik stiffened at a distant sound that didn't fit in well with his rage. Without releasing his death grip on Adnah, but going no further, he slid his eyes to one side and saw Arabella sitting up with one arm supporting her weight, a shawl clutched against the front of her body as bruises began forming on her face, and blood dripped from her lips. Her skirt was bunched up a few inches above her knees, and he could see the added injuries to her ankles and feet also oozing with blood. He knew that the sight of her horrified wide eyes should have calmed him - but her injuries only incensed him further.
He stared at her for an extra moment, torn between his rage and the immediate desire to stoop at her side and look her over and comfort her.
With a growl, he released Adnah's hair only to seize his entire head within both palms. Using both arms, he wrenched it as hard and fast as he could, like one would a wheel in a carnival betting game. The audible multiple snaps of the gypsy's neck was nowhere near as satisfying as watching the man slowly suffering… but he knew he must end it quickly for Arabella's sake.
She was frightened and traumatized enough without prolonging what he considered the inevitable.
For long moments, there was nothing but silence in the little river clearing. Erik remained crouched over Adnah's lifeless body, breathing fast and hard through his nose while Arabella stared at him, her own breath coming in panting sobs. Slowly, Erik rose to his full height and turned toward the river, his hands hanging dejectedly at his sides.
"Cove-"he paused to clear his throat roughly. "Cover yourself up, ma cher…"
Arabella sat upright slowly, lowering the shawl from her breasts to assess the damage done to her shirt. It was a lost cause, and she quickly shrugged out of her vest to remove what was left of the material. She kept glancing up at Erik, noting his every twitch while she quickly redressed in her vest and tied the now fraying but still usable laces. It was hardly a modest look, with how the stiffer material trapped her breasts and pressed them higher and closer together… but at least it covered her. And she still had the shawl, which she wrapped around her shoulders and clung to as she was suddenly wracked with shudders and shivers that made her teeth chatter.
Her face suffused with color as a horrible and strange weakness overcame her. Tears of shame stung her eyes, but she refused to cry further. She didn't understand what had just happened to her beyond the plainly obvious - Adnah's attack - but it was over now. Erik had ended it. She needed to breathe deeply and press onward.
Erik hadn't done more than take five or six steps away, his back remaining to her the entire time she fumbled with her clothing and worked out how best to cover herself. His fingertips twitched at his sides repeatedly, as though he could still feel them in Adnah's hair or around his throat… but his shoulders slowly relaxed from their stiff posture as his breathing slowed.
Once she was modest, Arabella staggered to her feet, her eyes turning to the body on the ground.
"They'll kill you…" she breathed, the tears she refused to give in to again completely blurring her vision again. She needed the distraction from her confusing physical reactions to Adnah's touch.
Erik turned slightly, glancing at her from the corner of one eye to be certain he wasn't going to be met with the forbidden vision of her body. It was not the time to entertain his first appreciation for her body in daylight. Assured that she was covered, he pivoted without moving any closer to her, his head tilting slightly in a motion she had begun to recognize as some form of tenderness.
"What was that?" he asked.
"The… the others…" she clarified weakly, swallowing a lump that was forming in her throat. "They'll kill you if they find out what you've done…"
Erik's eyes widened and he took a single instinctive step toward her.
"Are you trying to imply that they'll care more about a dead attempted rapist rather than his intended victim?" he demanded. Arabella's eyes flashed up to his face, and she felt the heat climbing into her cheeks once more.
"They… they might…" she admitted almost timidly.
"To hell with them." He declared, hands again curling into fists. "I'll have more than words to exchange with anyone who would rather side with him!"
"Erik-"she hesitated, one hand having risen to reach in his direction out of protest. "Erik, I'm not really one of them."
"Like hell you aren't!" he bellowed, making her flinch back. Instantly, his fists unfurled and his shoulders sagged. He made a visible effort to calm himself, and his eyes softened as he continued watching her. "Ma belle, how anyone can ever question where you belong is beyond me.… But if you're worried about me, I can easily hide the body. I'm the only one that saw him follow you into the woods, and no one saw me follow him; I guarantee it."
She let out a long, shaky breath as she considered what he was saying.
Erik had done something terrible… It had been for the right reasons - she thought – but it had still been terrible. Murder was the worst sin one could possibly ever commit… and it had been clear how much he'd enjoyed it. She doubted he even realized the grin that had been splitting his twisted face while he held Adnah's throat in his hand. It had been visible even under his barely plausible velvet mask. But she couldn't blame the brief delight he'd taken… not after what she'd seen him suffer through. Often, she'd dreamed about doing similarly terrible things to her own father… but she'd never had the nerve to do it.
Erik had. Erik had seen Adnah follow her. He had known that something was badly wrong with the situation. He had known and come after them himself. He'd done the only thing that would have truly stopped Adnah from coming after her. She didn't know if anyone else in the campground would have put in so much effort on her behalf…
She took in a breath to match the one she'd released, and slowly raised her eyes to his. He stood watching her, waiting with the utmost patience for her to reach a decision. Clearly, he wasn't particularly concerned with being discovered as a murderer and punished for it. He must think that some punishments were worth the risks if the sins committed to warrant them were the right ones… or at least the only viable option. He was still trembling slightly, although it wasn't nearly as obvious as the shudders wracking her body.
"A-all right…" she agreed uncertainly. "Hide him. I don't want you being punished for rescuing me."
Erik nodded once, sharply, and leaned down as though to seize Adnah's body at once. He paused, though, glancing up at her again with even deeper concern. When he spoke again, his voice was gentler than she'd ever heard it. Even that night in his tent, when he'd bandaged her wounds and held her as she fell asleep; she'd never heard such a heart-rending gentleness in his voice.
"Are you all right, Ma belle?"
She almost closed her eyes at the almost physical caress his voice had become. God… the things his voice could do were endless!
Instead, she blinked at him rapidly, clutching the shawl more tightly against herself as her shivering increased.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" she asked curiously.
Nonplused, Erik stared at her in confusion.
"Call you what?"
"Ma belle." She explained.
"Oh!"
"You've said it twice now."
One hand flew up to his forehead, his deathly pallor actually gaining a little color. She realized in slight amazement that he was actually blushing. After a moment, he eyed her sheepishly as he spoke. "I hadn't realized! It… it's just a … a nickname… for you…."
Arabella tilted her head like he often did, grateful for any distraction from the horror still racing through her at the events of the past several minutes.
"What does it mean?" she whispered, thinking that her hammering heart was about to slam to a halt in her anticipation. For a minute, Erik twitched and fidgeted, making her believe he might brush off her question and refuse to answer. But then, his voice came very timidly and quietly across the space separating them.
"Literally; it means 'my beautiful'." He admitted reluctantly. "I just… I think of you as 'my beauty'."
Arabella's eyes went round, and she did feel her heart stop before it returned to a full gallop again. Color suffused her cheeks, and she glanced away in pleased embarrassment.
"I won't say it again, I promise." He continued quickly, facing her more squarely and rambling in desperation. "I never meant to say it the first time. We just… we all think of certain people certain ways, privately…"
"No!" she protested instantly, shocking herself as she again reached forward as though to physically halt his words. There was too much space between them to make contact. "No, it's… it's all right…"
A moment of awkward silence passed while they smiled tentatively at one another. Then, seeming to shake off his discomfort, Erik turned back to the body on the ground and again reached for it. It astounded her how he could be more comfortable disposing of a body he'd murdered, than he was speaking of his thoughts or emotions.
"Don't go anywhere." He commanded gently before turning to wander off with the body flung over one shoulder. In spite of his height, Adnah's body seemed an impressively cumbersome thing to try and balance. Still, Erik seemed to manage quite gracefully as he carefully picked his way back into the trees and down river. "I'll be back. Just… just stay where you are, all right?"
Sacro-bori: Incest