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“We were just havin’ a little fun,” Lot muttered pathetically. “We were gonna bring her to Preacher.”

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Mia Bailey

“Did you think Preacher would let this go unpunished? That
Luka
would?”

Both men trembled at the mention of Luka’s name. Abel looked

contemptuously at the newcomer, who stepped forward and took Richelle by her upper arm. He pulled her from Lot’s grasp, walking them toward the tent flap.

“You two tell the others to withdraw and return to Red Dragon.” He jerked Richelle into his side. “
I
will deliver her personally to Preacher. Now, go!”

As he lifted the flap, Abel grabbed him by the arm, pulling them both into the tent.

“You liar!” he screamed, spittle dribbling from the corners of his mouth.

“You want her for yerself!”

Releasing her arms, the newcomer put himself between Abel and

Richelle, shielding her with his body as he spoke authoritatively.

“Get a grip, man! There are plenty of vamps back at Red Dragon. You don’t need her.” He indicated Richelle with a jerk of his head in her direction. “Is a little fun with her worth facing Luka? Now, get going and do as I said!”

Abel crouched to a fighting stance and pulled a dagger from his boot.

Waving it in front of the other man, he issued his challenge.

“She’s mine! So come on, you prick. If you want her, yer gonna have to kill me.”

Richelle was surprised when the newcomer stood his ground. He took a deep breath and sighed resignedly.

“As you wish.” And with the skill and speed of a Ninja, he dropped his arms to his side and two small daggers fell from his sleeves. He threw them at her two assailants, striking them directly in their hearts.

Richelle covered her mouth with both hands, trying to stifle her stunned gasp as both men fell to the ground, dead. Their assassin spun to her, his eyes cold from the kill as he stared at her. He then raised his arm, offering her his upturned hand.

“Come with me and live.”

She stared at him in disbelief, her hands still covering her mouth. He shook his palm at her again.

“There isn’t much time. They’ll be here soon. Come with me and live.”

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She lowered her hands to pull at her bodice, attempting to cover her breasts as she blushed furiously. She had no idea who he was or why he had saved her. She couldn’t read his thoughts or feel his emotions, and yet something told her he was not like the other two.
Should I trust him?

And then on the wind she thought she heard something. It was Selene’s voice echoing on the wind:
trust in yourself…trust in yourself…trust in
yourself.
Still a little hesitant, she placed her hand in his.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Jonathon.”

* * * *

Jonathon couldn’t believe he’d found her.

When he received the message from Nicolae, he started checking in with the other Believers. He figured Richelle would have been too smart for them. Hell, an umbrella stand was smarter than most of the Believers. Thank God, he’d started looking for her when he did and was able to get to her in time.

Her hand looked so small as she placed it in his, so frail. He gazed at her, admiring her even features and unique coloring. With her titian hair kissed by the sun and her skin pale as moonlight, she could have been a sea nymph. But what caught his attention the most were her mesmerizing eyes.

Fathomless pools, he could swim forever in her beautiful green eyes framed by dark lashes.

Jonathon shifted uncomfortably at her state of undress, one arm crossed in front of her torn dress and her cheeks stained red.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. He pulled her behind him so he could peek out the opening and make sure the coast was clear. He was still scanning the area when he started giving her directions.

“We’ll make our way across the fairway. Head for the fun house. It will be the easiest place to hide, at least until dusk.”

“Dusk?” she croaked, her throat raw from her scream.

“Dusk,” he reiterated as he pulled his head in and looked at her. “Then they’ll come.”

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Mia Bailey

“They?” She felt like an idiot, but her nerves were frazzled and her head was still muddled like she was trapped in a fire. She couldn’t breathe and couldn’t see through all the smoke.

“The Immortals. They know. They sent me. And when night falls, they will come.” He paused. Her face was white as a sheet with shock. Her body shivered with cold and her hands felt like ice. He took her by the shoulders and shook her once to rattle the dazed look from her eyes. “Hey, are you gonna be all right?”

Mutely, she nodded rapidly. When he released her, she wrapped her arms around herself, using her hands to rub her arms for some warmth.

Jonathon slid his heavy leather jacket off and helped Richelle into it. Seeing her dwarfed by his jacket three sizes too big, Jonathon shuffled his feet in embarrassment. As part of his cover, he lived with the Believers as they did, and he knew the smell was enough to offend Mother Teresa.

However, Richelle did not recoil from the offensive smell. Instead, she wrapped the jacket around her, touching his arm and giving him a little smile.

“Thank you.”

His return smile warmed her, like a little boy finding approval with his teacher after bringing her an apple. Taking her by the hand, he gave it a quick squeeze.

“Ready?”

Nodding, she followed as he led them out of the tent. He draped his arm casually over her shoulder and they strolled leisurely along, looking like nothing more than a couple on a date. But standing next to him, her body was drawn tight as a bow. Her eyes darted down every aisle as they stayed on the outside of the tents where there was less of a chance they’d be seen.

Seeing the fun house ahead, he excitedly picked up the pace.
We’re going to
make it!

Without warning, Jonathon was strong-armed by two Believers, leading him to a closed-in area behind some of the rides, while a third grabbed Richelle by her upper arm and pulled her away and followed behind. He held her close to his side as his two compatriots tried to subdue Jonathon, dragging him along while they argued until they reached an area hidden from view from the rest of the fairground.

“Do you think we wouldn’t have found out!”

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“You traitor!”

“You’ve betrayed us!”

“Preacher will give you to Luka for your betrayal!”

“Luka will destroy you!”

“Preacher is a lunatic driven by his delusions of Luka as God!”

“Traitor!”

“Traitor!”

Richelle bent at her hip, trying to pull her arm free as she kicked and clawed her captor. While Richelle tried to free herself, Jonathon continued to fight the two men. One grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms behind his back as the other pulled a knife from his boot. He made a wide arc, slicing open Jonathon’s shirt, creasing his skin and drawing blood.

Using the man behind him for leverage, Jonathon leaned back, kicking the man who held the knife in the gut, and dropped him to the ground. While the man on the ground lay moaning, Jonathon threw his head back once, twice, striking the man behind him in the face. He heard the crunch of the man’s nose breaking with the second head-butt. He was released when the man brought his hands up to cover his nose, which was spurting blood.

With the skill of a champion boxer, he threw two kidney punches before using his open palm to drive the cartilage from the man’s broken nose into his brain, killing him. While his back was turned, the other assailant threw his arm around Jonathon’s throat and stabbed him in the side. Jonathon grunted but held his ground. Dropping to one knee, he threw his attacker over his shoulder to land flat on his back. Withdrawing the knife from his side, he plunged it downward into the Believer’s heart. He pulled it out, whirling to face the man holding Richelle.

“Let her go…and just walk away.”

He could smell the fear of the coward as he used Richelle as a shield, but still he had not relinquished his hold on her. He looked at the knife in Jonathon’s hand and then looked to the woods then back to the knife. As roughly as he had grabbed her, the Believer shoved Richelle toward Jonathon and ran into the forest. Luckily, Jonathon was able to drop the knife and catch Richelle before she hit the ground, but then staggered, trying to stay on his feet. She slipped her arms around his waist, holding him tightly so he would not collapse.

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“Put your arm around my shoulder,” she commanded and began leading him back to the main fairway. He swayed as they walked along, but still he tried to not put too much weight on her. Jonathon tripped over some electrical cords as they came around one of the semis and braced himself against the side of the trailer.

“Just a little farther,” she uttered encouragingly. “You can make it. Just lean on me.”

He gave a slight nod, wincing in pain, but pulled himself upright.

Tightening her hold around his waist, she headed for the fun house a few feet away. He did what he was told as she supported his weight to help him.

When they reached the building he led her around the side and stole away behind the back to the employee entrance. Richelle reached her hand out and turned the knob. It didn’t turn. The door was locked.

* * * *

“The key…shirt pocket,” he rasped. She fumbled for the key, but it wasn’t there.

“It must have fallen out during your fight,” she whispered as she tried searching his other pockets. When she couldn’t find the key, she tried frantically yanking and pulling on the door, with the same results as someone hitting the elevator key several times to make the elevator go faster. Jonathon moaned and leaned heavily against her, his loss of blood making him weaker. She looked along the wall, looking for another door, and found none.
I’ve got to open this door. I have to!

She kept trying, jerking on the handle until her shoulder hurt.
I can’t let
it end like this,
she bemoaned with tears forming in her desperate eyes
. I
can’t let the Believers find us.
Her sole focus was to open that door…
Now!

Closing her eyes, she leaned her forehead against the door and prayed to the Goddess for her help as she kept trying to turn the doorknob.
The handle became searing hot beneath her touch, but she refused to give up. She frantically twisted the doorknob with all her strength.
Open, you damn door.

Open. Open. Open!

Click.
Richelle’s eyes flew open at the sound. She slowly turned the knob and opened the door. With no time to think about how the door had

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unlocked itself, she helped Jonathan inside and leaned him against the wall for a moment.

As she closed the door, she saw the Believer had made it to forest and disappeared into the black, dead woods. Not normally vindictive, her thoughts were of revenge.
I hope you get everything you deserve as the dark
evil in those woods finds you.
And as she shut and locked the door, she heard a spine-chilling scream and knew her thought had become his final reality.

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Mia Bailey

She had no idea how long they were in the fun house. It took her some time to find a secluded area where they could hide. She heard people walking through, laughing and screaming. But she had made sure their dark corner was private where no one could see them.

And then she was busy tending to Jonathon’s wound. There was so much blood she was afraid she was going to lose him. She used his shirt as a sponge for the wound on his side, binding it with the sleeves. And as she had little choice, she tore the hem of her skirt into several strips to bandage his chest. He had lost consciousness a few times, so she kept nudging and talking with him to keep him awake.

They had talked about his childhood. He was the offspring of two drug addicts. He told her how he met Valya when he was fourteen, out on the street after his parents’ death by overdose and he was about to fall prey to a drug lord/pimp. Valya had taken him to the mountains and left him with his adoptive Immortal father to be cared for and educated. When the opportunity came up to repay their kindness, Jonathon didn’t think twice.

He became a mole, joining the Believers and keeping the Immortals apprised of their activities. It was easier in the beginning, but then Luka became more and more active within the cult. Jonathon used the skill of mind shields he was taught to hide his thoughts, but it was becoming more difficult as Luka’s power and dominion grew.

A few years older than Richelle, Jonathan had spent his entire adult life living with the Believers. It spoke well of his character that he had not been corrupted by Preacher and his manic beliefs. Watching him as he spoke, Richelle found he’d be quite handsome if he’d clean up a bit and shave.

When he lapsed into unconsciousness again, she moved a damp curl from his forehead.

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Fever
, she thought as she lay the back of her hand against his forehead.

Tearing another strip from her skirt, she wiped his brow. She needed to bring down his fever and give him some water so he wouldn’t dehydrate.

She didn’t want to leave Jonathon alone and she most definitely didn’t want to go running around in what looked to be a miniskirt, but he needed water.

And she needed to find out what time it was.

Hiding him under some drapery from the walls, she pulled her skirt down as much as possible to give her some modicum of modesty. Casually she walked out of the fun house, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Yeah right,
she thought.
Walking around in a miniskirt, black leather jacket,
and red-gold hair—real inconspicuous.

Watching carefully for any of the Believers, she stole two bottles of water from a nearby vendor and hurried back to the fun house. She didn’t know what time it was, but the sun was going down. The carnival lights started to go on, their amber hues indicative of the ending day.