Page 8 of Bound By Blood
That was his onlyrule. But he still killed mothers, brothers, fathers, and sisters.At the time, he didn’t think humans deserved to live, and he stillwasn’t sure if they did or not.
Sure, they didsome cool things and could be kind, but he found most of themgreedy, selfish pricks who would sell their mother if it meantgaining riches. They were a whiny, bitchy bunch who spent more timecomplaining about things than appreciating what they had.
He hadn’t stoppedkilling because he suddenly grew a conscience and started likinghumans. He left his old life behind because of that horrible dayand didn’t plan to revisit it.
Saber had neverhated himself for his past. It wasn’t great by any means, and hehadn’t done much good in his lengthy life, but he didn’t despisehimself for his choices. And he’d spent a fair amount of time doingsome good before he joined the Alliance.
But that hadn’tbeen an altruistic decision. He could kill Savages without anyconsequences; it helped keep his compulsion and enjoyment formurder under control while also allowing him to walk in the sun. Hewas not giving that up again.
When he was aSavage, he forgot how much he enjoyed the warmth of the sun and thebrightness of day. As he gradually acclimated to the daytime again,the sun helped to calm him. It also became a daily reminder of allhe’d lost and what he would lose if he allowed himself to become aSavage again.
He’d saved manylives since turning away from the Savages and demons. Had he savedas many as he killed?
No, but if theydefeated the demons, he’d help to save billions, which had to countfor something, even if he couldn’t ever atone for all his sins.
And he didn’t wantto atone for them. He was who he was, and his past was the past. Itwould stay there as he’d already moved on.
Until today, hewas fine with every decision he ever made, even if some of themmade others see him as a monster. But now, his mind wouldn’t stoprepeating everything he did wrong that day, and this inability toshut himself down was dangerous for everyone around him.
Feelings and doubtwould get others killed, and he’d be the one to do it.
He learnedcenturies ago, when he broke free of the underground world anddeath once ruling him, that detached was the best way for him toget through life. He couldn’t get overly upset, lose control, andkill someone if he didn’t have any care for them.
His knucklesturned white on the wheel as he glided the car around a Mac truckbefore entering the breakdown lane to fly by a Mercedes. When thedriver of the Mercedes gave him the finger, it took everything hehad not to jerk his vehicle into the car and send it flying.
The image was soclear in his mind that he grinned at the man, and the other driverlowered his hand and slowed his vehicle. Saber did the same to keeppace and keep smiling at him.
Unless it ended ina fiery ball he couldn’t escape, Saber would most likely survivethe accident; the other driver wouldn’t. It didn’t matter that hewas driving like an asshole; he wanted blood.
Instead ofsatisfying that need, he pushed his foot back down on the gas andshot forward.I will not kill a human. I will not.
He repeated thewords over and over again as he steered through the vehicles on thehighway. He wasn’t sure if they would help to diffuse him, but theycouldn’t hurt either.
He tapped thestone in his pocket. “You have a goal.”
That reminderhelped to focus him a little, but he was certain Charles wouldn’tbe thrilled to see him with the mood he was in. Taking a deepbreath, Saber shoved Brie from his mind and focused on theroad.
Weaving in and outof traffic with expertise born from his confidence in his drivingand knowledge he most likely wouldn’t die in a crash, Saber pushedthe car over one hundred miles per hour. If he got pulled over, hemight kill the cop, but whether he drained them dry or changed thepolice officer’s memory of the encounter, he didn’t worry about aticket either.
He jabbed at theradio stations until heavy metal blared from the speakers. Heturned the music up until it reverberated around the confines ofthe car and shook the windows.
Despite hissensitive hearing, he didn’t turn the volume down. Instead, he losthimself to the rapid beat of drums, screeching guitars, and voicesmirroring the wrath pulsating in his soul.
Gradually, hestarted regaining control of his volatile emotions as the speed andmusic soothed the demon churning within him. It was angry, thirsty,and out for blood, but he wouldnotlet it rule himagain.
And he couldn’trisk being a bomb when he saw Charles again. The man was the bestmetalsmith Saber had ever encountered, but he didn’t work withSavages, and he didn’t work with vampires he deemed dangerous. He’dsend him away if he believed Saber was a threat or on the edge ofcontrol.
Saber crossed intoMaine in record time. By the time he did, he could breathe easierand his bloodlust had ebbed.
His hands werestill white-knuckled on the wheel, and the car’s engine hummed ashe held the speedometer at a hundred and ten. With a far steadierhand, he turned the music down a little, but the windows stillvibrated.
Navigating thehighway, he took the exit for Vineyard Beach and slowed to pilotthe small roads packed with tourists and their vehicles. It wouldbe easy to park the car, climb out, and kill.
He could go on arampage through here and slaughter twenty people before anyonerealized what was happening. By then, he’d be well fed, and hisneed to kill would become an annoying niggle again instead of anincessant roar.
He would have tofind shelter from the sun afterward, but it wouldn’t be toodifficult. He’d lived in the shadows most of his life.
It was sotempting, he started pulling the car toward the sidewalk.
