Vengeance (The Captive Series, Book 6) by Erica Stevens Page A

mountains.
    “Are you sure you have everything you need in the caves?” Pallas inquired.
    “Yes.” Turning away, she rested her hands on Abbott’s shoulders. “Take care of the children, if it becomes necessary to turn me in, do so.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she continued before he could speak. “Protect them first.”
    She turned to Pallas and hugged her. “The same goes for you.”
    Pallas hugged her forcefully. “Be careful.”
    “I will,” she vowed.
    Pulling the hood of the cloak over her head, she slipped through the dining room and into the mudroom behind the kitchen. Her gaze drifted to her snowshoes stacked neatly with the children’s, but she didn’t grab them. None of the invading vampires used them, and she would have to discard them once she reached the trails anyway.
    She glanced back at Pallas and Abbott to find them watching her with troubled eyes from the doorway. She gave them a wan smile before twisting the knob and stepping into the night. Goose bumps broke out on her flesh, but at least she wouldn’t die from the cold.
    Her gaze went to the vampires patrolling the mountains, but all she could do was hope they were too busy watching the twisted celebration to keep an eye out for a lone figure amongst the shadows.
    Trudging through the snow, she made her way toward the mountains. She didn’t have to glance back to see if the flames were still raging from the fires. The screams resonating through the night and the glow of the flames playing over the snow told her they were. Finally making it to the mountainside, she pressed her back to the jagged rocks. She stayed within the shadows as she moved, hoping her hastily made cloak would make them think she was one of their own if they spotted her.
    She was almost to the end of the street when she slipped into a crevice in the mountain. Turning sideways, her back pressed against the rock wall as she slid through the cave. Her nose almost touched the rocks across from her. The mineral scent of the rocks and the damp cave filled her nostrils; the steady trickle of water against rock sounded from somewhere within. Through her thin cloak, she could feel the coolness of the rocks surrounding her.
    The close confines of the walls gave way enough to let her walk straight through the cave. She took four steps forward, before kneeling and turning to her right. There, a rock rested against the wall. Fumbling with it, she pulled the rock away from the wall and grabbed the canvas bag tucked within the hole behind it.
    Over the years, it had become easier to store her things within the mountains instead of trying to sneak them out of the orphanage every time she escaped into the caves. The beating that had caused her not to walk for two days had been a result of being caught trying to sneak rags out for her torches.
    The beating hadn’t stopped her from doing it again, but she’d learned to keep a constant back up of supplies on hand afterward. It had been three years since she’d left the orphanage behind, but she’d been unable to break the habit of stashing extra provisions in some of the caves. Maybe a part of her had always known she would need these supplies in the future.
    Digging through the bag, she wrapped her hand around the lighter within and pulled it free. Flipping back the top, she flicked the flint and a small flame blazed to life. It barely lit the gray, jagged walls across from her. Returning to the contents of the bag, she pulled out a rag. She wrapped the rag around the end of the waist high stick she pulled from the hole and lit it on fire. As long as she stayed within this cave system, she could use the torch to light her way.
    She placed the torch against the wall, pulled her cloak from her back and shoved it into the bag. She pulled the string on the bag to close it again, tied it around her waist and shoved it around so it rested against the small of her back.
    Reclaiming the torch, she turned to study the gloomy cave