Worth Dying For Read online

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Worth Dying For

  ISBN # 978-0-85715-486-6

  ©Copyright Luxie Ryder 2011

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright February 2011

  Edited by Stacey Birkel

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way

  , Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom

  .

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

  WORTH DYING FOR

  Luxie Ryder

  Dedication

  To my family and friends, thanks for your support.

  Chapter One

  For the first time in over a century, Malachi Bane wanted to kill.

  Bane’s fingers bit into the branch of the mighty oak he sheltered in, and he squeezed, wishing that he had the warm, scrawny necks of those defiling his home under his hands rather than cold, dead wood. Loosening his death grip when the iron hard bark beneath his fingers crumbled to dust, he turned away from those who would tempt his resolve and reduce him to no more than the animal he had vowed never to be again.

  Closing his eyes against a surge of hunger, he willed away the blood lust stinging the back of his throat. Had he been a man of faith, he would have sent up a fervent prayer that the strangers standing on the beach—his beach—would be gone when he looked their way again. But yet there they still stood, oblivious his presence in the tree above them and the danger he posed to their lives.

  Instinct born of many years as a hunter made Bane’s muscles coil in readiness, preparing to leap down and kill them all before they could take another breath. He cautioned himself to stay calm. Did the innate savagery of his kind have to determine the outcome of his every interaction with humans? The Southern gentleman he once was would know how to handle them. His business skills had served him well in the past. Bane tried to visualise how events might unfold if he simply informed them that they were trespassing on private property and asked them to leave. A warm breeze seared a path across his frigid skin, reminding him that clothing had been the last thing on his mind when he’d been wrenched from his sleep by the sound of the humans approaching. He cared not that his nakedness might offend them. The bright sunshine beyond the shade of the canopy, and the carnage it would wreak upon his flesh, caused him far more concern.

  Nobody had encroached upon his privacy in over a century. The remote location was one of the reasons he had chosen this island over the others dotting the sea off the coast of Maine. To the casual observer it looked like nothing more than a pile of craggy peaks jutting out of an impenetrable forest, with a tiny strip of sand at its edge. No fool would ever try to visit or develop it when there were far more hospitable islands close by. Or so he’d thought.

  Three of them came—two men and a woman. One he knew from the mainland, the old man who owned the boat that the dinghy had departed from. The woman would be a problem. He had tried over the centuries to avoid feeding from females. The abject terror he would see on their faces told him more than he wanted to know about how his wife had suffered the night she met her death. But leaving the womenfolk unharmed had not always been possible. At those times, Bane allowed himself no sport, striking with cold, swift efficiency, thus sparing them the horror of knowing their fate.

  The tree limb groaned under his immense weight, threatening to give way. If it did, then the humans’ last chance to get off his island and save their own lives would be gone, and their gender would no longer matter. He would have to act—fast.

  Dressed in the type of shapeless, modern attire that made both sexes look like adolescent teenagers to Bane’s eyes—baseball caps, jeans and sweatshirts—he thought them at first glance to be no more than sightseers. Yet he sensed an air of purpose about them, especially in the female, that made him wary. They were more than just nosy tourists. His jaw clenched even tighter as he watched them continue unloading supplies from the boat. Were they staying? No, he couldn’t be that unlucky. But the pile of boxes and bags on the beach got bigger and when they added camping equipment to the mountain of supplies, he knew then they were going to be a problem.

  Mind racing, he glanced back over his shoulder towards the top of the island, in the direction of his home. Would they find it? He’d taken care over the years to make sure it couldn’t be seen from the shore or from the air but would it remain hidden from such close scrutiny?

  “David, stop!”

  The woman’s softly spoken plea brought Bane’s attention back to the small group of invaders. Her husky voice curled through him, grating over senses that welcomed the sound while resisting it. The man—David—had wrapped a possessive arm around her waist and dragged her body against his slim, unimpressive chest. She pushed at him, her arms locked at the elbows to hold him away. Bane could not see her eyes, hidden as they were behind large, dark glasses, but he could tell from the set of her shoulders and the rigid line of her back that she was angry. David released her with an indulgent chuckle and she took a hurried step away from him, straightening the hat that had been knocked awry by the unwanted attention of her companion, and turning as if to check whether the old man had seen what had happened.

  “I don’t want him getting the wrong idea about us,” she whispered, the words spilling from her lips in an exasperated rush when David asked her what the problem was.

  “You’re worried what an old guy you don’t know will think?”

  She shrugged. “You’re a colleague. I don’t want him thinking otherwise.”

  “Bitch,” David muttered as she walked away, his voice audible to none but himself and the presence in the tree far above him. Bane welcomed the knowledge that David was an immature oaf. If further action became necessary, he might actually enjoy killing him.

  “Miss Kirkwood? Do you think we need to take everything off the raft?” the old man rasped as she reached his side. “We could leave the tarp over most of it. If the weather turns, you know your stuff is safe and dry.”

  “You’re right, Eli.” She smiled and patted the bony shoulder exposed by the dirty white vest he wore then surreptitiously wiped her hand on the back of her jeans. “The camping equipment should be enough for now.”

  “My son will be by in a minute to pick me up. Now, is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”

  She shook her head. “No, you’ve done more than enough.”

  Eli’s watery blue gaze scanned the waves rolling towards the mainland as if searching for something. He turned back to the woman, concern etched into the wrinkled mask of his leathery face. “You sure you want to study on this island?”

  “Isn’t it safe?”

  He shrugged as he took off the cap covering the frazzled wisps of his thinning grey hair. Eli wiped the sweat from his balding pa
te and the back of his neck with a grey rag, appearing to take a moment to formulate his thoughts. “I don’t know why but this place always gave me the creeps. Just silly I guess.” He gave a wheeze that could have been a laugh or a cough and jerked his head in David’s direction. “I’m sure your boyfriend will take care of you.”

  “Dr. Carmichael and I are colleagues,” she replied, her smile staying in place but getting tight around the edges. “And I can take care of myself, Eli.”

  Bane admired her spirit and he suffered a moment’s regret that she might have to die, but he thrust it away. He couldn’t afford to humanise them or he would not be able to do what needed to be done. Long ago he had learnt not to care that they might be someone’s lover or child or husband or provider. Humans were either food or they were foes—there was nothing in between.

  Eli’s middle-aged son rode the tide rolling towards the island, the engine of his jet ski seeming to scream in protest at the burden it carried, and Bane knew the time to act had come. His last chance to get rid of them quickly had arrived. The craft slowed as it entered shallow waters and Bane weighed his options again as he watched it bobbing up and down on the waves. Yes, he would catch it before it could turn and run. Not that the driver would react in time anyway. Humans had an insane need to stand and watch horror unfold in front of them. Any true survival instincts they had, had been lost to them long ago. He could reach the young man before the fact he was in mortal danger even registered.

  His gaze darted to the sand and he winced as its brilliance momentarily blinded him. The sunshine had turned the beach from a soft gold to a dazzling white and Bane damned his luck. If he didn’t manage to reach the safety of the shade in time, then killing them would be in vain because he would die too. But his would be a slow, agonising death, not the swift, merciful dispatch he planned for them.

  The prospect of the kill fired Bane’s blood and he fought off the primal adrenaline rush, his muscles contracting as a dormant but all too familiar tingle raced over his flesh and a growl formed low in his throat. He had to think clearly. People would look for them. He would ensure there would be no evidence left to prove that they were ever on the island but did he really want years of hiding in his own home due to rash actions now?

  The birds in the surrounding trees fell silent, alerting those who had the sense to listen to the presence of a predator. It always amazed him how little attention people paid to the warnings nature issued to those in danger. These humans were no less ignorant of their surroundings than any others he had met.

  “We’ll be back to pick you up after the weekend.”

  Bane groaned at the words. Four days was too long—far too long. Rage clouded his mind and jumbled his thoughts while he sat impotent. The old man waded out to the waiting jet ski, leaving Bane’s problem behind. Many decades had passed since he’d felt so controlled by events around him—and the humans littering his beach were to blame.

  Bane tried to summon the dark hunter he had once been, and would need to be again now in order to act. Eli’s son gestured at his father, as if bored with waiting, and Bane planned to deal with him first. The old man would have no escape and could be easily picked off in the water…and then the couple would be stranded with no choice but to wait for Bane to come back to the island and end their lives too.

  He ran through the plan in his mind over and over again. Confused by his sudden inability to move, Bane watched as Eli climbed onto the raft. He closed his eyes, disgusted at how weak he had become. He could not kill them without provocation.

  Embracing what he was rather than fighting it would have had its benefits at times like this. Had they encroached upon his privacy and solitude a century ago, he would have rid himself of the problem quickly and relished the chance to hunt something other than wildlife. How many years had it been since he’d enjoyed the thrill of the chase? The ones who put up a good fight were his favourite. With most, their fear made them freeze and it had always been over too soon.

  Sometimes, Bane longed for the simple existence of the mindless predator he had been back then. The noise of his constant thoughts stopped and he would give himself over to his senses completely. Every fibre of his being redirected all of his energy to his heightened agility and speed. He became one with the prey for a short time, able to move almost before they did as he anticipated their every action. But that was before he’d learnt to control the urges that disgusted him.

  Maybe he should let Eli and his son leave without harming them? If the visitors did not find his home, there would be no need to kill them. And if it did become necessary, then he would only have two people’s blood on his hands. Would it matter if Eli survived to tell others which island he had taken them to? Someone else would know—a family member or a colleague. The death of Eli and his son would serve no purpose and would not save Bane from further troubles.

  Besides, they would be gone in four days. Had he become such a savage that he couldn’t tolerate such a short amount of time around humans without killing them? Their presence would be an inconvenience—he wouldn’t be able to hunt or sleep—but what were four more days of misery in an eternity of misery? Soon enough, they would be nothing but another memory, to be added to the others he turned over in his mind as he lay in bed alone, filling a small part of the gaping void left in his soul by his boring, loveless existence. Bane had no need for more memories stained in bloodshed.

  Murdering innocents without a good reason would make him no better than others of his kind such as Katrina or Solomon. If either had been present, then the people below would already be dead and drained of their life force. Bane felt no pride in knowing he could show more restraint than they. He’d committed enough atrocities in his own name to damn him many times over.

  “I’ve got you alone at last,” David said, dragging Bane’s attention away from the old man and his son and back to the couple below.

  “Lucky you,” she said, her voice brittle with a dry wit that appeared to go straight over David’s head.

  “Amber, baby.” David’s voice had lowered to a hoarse whisper which Bane imagined the fool thought sounded sexy. “Wasn’t that the reason you chose me to come?”

  “I didn’t choose you.” She smiled as if to soften her words. “You’re the best entomologist Richard had at his disposal. He agreed to finance my study trip but didn’t want me to come alone. I run the department so of course he asked me who I thought would appreciate the chance to do some field work, but he made the ultimate decision.”

  David stared at her silently as she turned to open her rucksack, his gaze roaming over her body until she looked his way again. “So we’re really just here to work?”

  “Of course. What other reason could there be?”

  Amber held David’s stare, her eyes still unreadable behind her dark glasses as she waited for his reply. The weight of what she hadn’t said hung between them until she got up to check their supplies against the list she held in her hand, seemingly satisfied that her point had been made. David grabbed his backpack from the ground and stormed off towards the edge of the beach.

  “Here to work, my ass,” he mimicked, throwing another angry look her way as he stopped behind the tree Bane occupied and began to relieve himself.

  Bane’s throat tightened as he resisted the urge to reach down and grab David by the scruff. The stench of urine assaulted Bane’s nostrils, reminding him in a very immediate manner that his patience would be tested many times in the coming days. David moved away, ignorant of how close he’d come to having his head separated from his body, and gave Amber another baleful look.

  Didn’t the woman have any idea of David’s hostility towards her? Bane had known him for a matter of minutes and already had him pegged as a manipulative coward. Amber seemed oblivious to the tension emanating from David when he returned to camp, and smiled at him as he slumped to the ground beside her.

  “Shall we set up the tent first? It’s getting late and I don’t know how much daylight we h
ave left.”

  “Fine.”

  His curt reply confused her a little and she paused a moment to stare at him as if waiting for an explanation, but when David seemed determined to ignore her, she sighed and continued with the task at hand.

  They set up camp in a small clearing just off the edge of the sand, where the rough sea grasses grew and the land became firmer. The spot was a safe one—or as safe as it could be for the type of visiting wildlife they might have expected. Guns, flares and bear spray were placed close at hand in case of emergencies and they stored their food well away from the sleeping area.

  Bane observed their efforts to protect themselves from anything nature could throw at them. For the woman’s sake alone, he was glad they didn’t know there was nothing that could save them from the predator lurking in the darkness of the forest.

  * * * *

  Amber’s hand tingled as she fought the desire to slap herself in the head. It was all she deserved for being such an idiot. Why had she agreed to let David come? He’d always been a jerk, albeit a good looking one and she’d been foolish to think that their working relationship wouldn’t be affected by his attempt to seduce her at a recent Faculty party. As usual, she’d thought wrong.

  “Shall we eat?” she asked a couple of hours of work later when she got bored of waiting for David to speak to her.

  “I don’t care.”

  Ok, he’s still sulking. Amber resolved to ignore him and focused on setting up the small stove. What was it with men that they never showed their true colours before you’d gone and committed yourself to spending time alone with them? David had seemed to handle her rejection well, and their relationship had gone back to the easy-going banter they’d had before. Had he secretly been angry the whole five months?