“Thomas!” A musical voice called from the top of the stairs. “You’re here!”
I glanced up at the woman who had stolen my master’s heart. Libby Carlisle ran down the stairs, her long, ice-white hair flowing behind her. She was a wisp of a thing, even younger-looking in person, and the pastel gown she wore billowed around her thin legs as she hurried down towards us. She looked more like an elf than a woman.
Sir Thomas’s face had completely lit up at her approach. He walked to the bottom of the stairs and held his arms open, and they embraced as though they had been apart for years. I glowered at them, resenting the fact that they could be together so freely while Belinda was trapped in Morchard’s house and I could do nothing.
“Nauseating, isn’t it?” Libby’s mother groaned, her eyes flicking over me with a kind of bemused approval. “So you are the gift, then? You’re a bit unkempt, but nothing my stylist couldn’t fix. That vampire knows how to deliver. If all of your kin look like you, I might have to ask for a Bran for myself.”
“Don’t come any closer,” I growled, my hands clenched into fists. Sir Thomas and Libby were snogging on the stairs, their tongues making slurping noises against each other. It was as though he was deliberately rubbing my nose in the fact that I was trapped with him.
“Cole!” Sir Thomas barked. “Come over here and meet your new mistress.”
My ring twinged, reminding me of the pain that awaited if I even thought of disobeying. I turned on my heels and rushed across the entrance hall, standing at the bottom of the stairs, so the future Lady Gillespie could stare down at me. Her icy-blue eyes swept over my body, taking in my leather jacket, my clenched fists, the stony expression on my face.
“Hello there,” she smiled.
I grunted in reply. Pain flared through my body. I grabbed my chest as the pain forced the air from my lungs. “H-hello,” I choked out. “It’s a pleasure … Miss Carlisle …”
“Call me Libby. We’re going to become very close, after all.” She turned to her fiancé. “Baby, please. Don’t hurt him.”
“Libby, honey. We’ve spoken about this. You need to assert your authority over your Bran. Remember, this man is not your companion or your friend. He is your slave.”
Gillespie’s voice faded away, replaced by a loud ringing in my ears. My head felt light, as though it might float away. I clawed at my throat, but the invisible hands clenched it tight, choking the life out of me.
“I don’t see why I couldn’t be friends with my slave,” Libby shot back. “Please, Thomas.”
My throat opened up, and I gasped in sweet air, gripping the dusty balustrade as I doubled over.
“Very well.” Gillespie removed the ring from his finger, and placed it in her tiny palm. “He is all yours, my love.” He kissed her knuckles tenderly.
Libby slipped the ring on to her finger. I grabbed the balustrade to steady myself as another wave of nausea passed through my body, my chest tightening as the two sides of my body fought each other. The pain wasn’t anywhere near as great as it had been this morning, however, and a moment later, the feeling had passed, and my body felt completely normal once more. I looked down at the ring on my finger, and found it to be cool, and loose. Libby was definitely human, she didn’t possess the crushing, overwhelming power of her lover.
“I’m so excited,” she threw her arms around Sir Thomas again, kissing his cheeks. “I can’t believe he’s all mine.”
“I’ll give you anything your heart desires,” Sir Thomas murmured, his hands cupped her cheeks.
“Kill me with fire.” I scoffed. They were insufferable.
“Do not allow him to speak like that,” Sir Thomas admonished her, but Libby was giggling too hard to respond. I felt Sir Thomas’s power pressing against my chest again, weaker now that I was not bound to him, but still uncomfortable. Clearly, he still retained some power over me.
“If you can’t handle him, dear. I’ll happily take him off your hands,” the mother drawled from the foyer.
“I think we’re going to get on great.” Libby extended her hand to me. “Come on, I want to show you my room.”
“Go with Libby,” Sir Thomas commanded me. “Her mother and I have much to discuss.”
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t take orders from someone who wasn’t my master, but I didn’t like what Sir Thomas could do to me if I disobeyed him, so I followed Libby up the stairs. The second floor was an even bigger mess, with boxes stacked on the faded carpet, peeling wallpaper, and filthy crystal chandeliers covered in blown bulbs. Libby pushed open a door and ushered me inside.
“This is my room,” she said in her wispy voice. “Sorry about the mess. I’m packing my things for moving to Thomas’s castle.”
I gazed around me, unable to believe what I was seeing. The enormous room looked like something from a Disney film. The walls, ceiling, and drapery were all a dusky pastel pink. The white four-poster bed decorated with rows of frilly lace. A pink settee sat under a large bay window overlooking the garden. Pink and white flowers sat in vases on every surface. It looked like a Barbie dream house.
The most powerful vampire in the world was marrying this … this child. The whole thing was absurd. Before I could stop myself, a deep laugh tickled at my lips. I covered my mouth with my hands, but I was too far gone. I snorted, my whole body shaking from the strain of holding in my mirth.
“Something funny?” Libby asked me, slumping down on her pastel-pink bedspread, and picking her shoes off. I noticed that under her pink gown she wore black Doc Martens, and red-and-white striped socks.
“Forgive me … Mistress.” I choked, desperately trying to supress further bursts of laughter. “I just … I guess I’m having a difficult time imagining how you might decorate Sir Thomas’s dark, gothic castle.”
Libby waved her hand. “Oh, you mean all this? Laugh away. I always do.” She stuck out her tongue, and I saw it had a pink stud through it. “My stepmother – she’s that gross woman downstairs – did all the decorating here. She thinks I’m six years old.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
She’s so young. Does she know what she’s marrying into? “And you know Sir Thomas is … I mean, he’s …”
“You can say it,” Libby grinned. “He’s a vampire. A blood-sucker. An immortal one. I know all about him, Cole. I know all about your world.” She got up then, went over to her pink bureau, and pulled open a drawer. I expected to see frilly pink underthings lined up in neat rows. But instead, the drawer was stuffed with an array of oddments. Crystals, decks of tarot cards, candles in different colours, leather and velvet pouches. Leather-bound journals with sigils stamped on the fronts in gold leaf. “I’ve been learning about the secret world of magic and shifters and vampires for years.”
“You practice witchcraft?”
“A little. I’m not very good yet. I don’t have anyone to teach me, and my stepmother won’t exactly let me join a coven or anything. She disapproves of this sort of thing.” Libby pulled out one of the journals and started to thumb through the pages. “I found this book amongst my grandmother’s things. She was a powerful witch, although she turned from the craft when she married my grandfather, and raised my father to think witches were evil, an opinion he passed on to that cow downstairs when he married her. It was in this book that I first read about Bran. When Thomas asked me what I wanted for a wedding present, it was the first thing I thought of.”
She reached over and wrapped her tiny arms around me, embracing me in a tight hug. I stood still, unsure of what I should be doing. No master of mine had ever hugged me before.
“We’re going to have the best fun,” Libby said. “You can live with us in Sir Thomas’s castle, and while Thomas is working, you and I can have adventures. It will be great.”
“Yeah, sure.” Belinda’s face burned my mind. I didn’t want to leave Crookshollow, not while she was in danger. But, of course, I would have no choice.
“You don’t look
very happy,” she said to me. “How come?”
“Do you really want to know?” Masters didn’t usually ask slaves about their personal lives, either.
“Of course I want to know. I asked you, didn’t I?”
“Most masters don’t care much about the emotions of their Bran.”
“I’m not most masters.”
“That much is obvious,” I smiled at her. “You seem really cool, Libby. I can already tell you’re worlds above my last two masters. A woman I … care about greatly … was kidnapped last night. Victor Morchard has her trapped in his castle. I’m worried about her safety, and there’s nothing I can do.”
If she heard my dig at her future husband, she didn’t acknowledge it. “Does Thomas know about this?”
“Yes. He allowed me to go to the castle yesterday, but Victor won’t give Belinda back until I have killed Sir Thomas. He believes Sir Thomas killed his son, but he denies it.”
“If Thomas says he didn’t hurt this man, he’s telling the truth.” Libby said firmly. She patted my shoulder. “Oh, Cole. I am so sorry. This sounds just awful. You’re not going to do it, are you? You won’t hurt my Thomas?”
“Even if I wanted to, which I do, I couldn’t.” I held up the ring. “He seems to hold some incredible power over me, even though I now belong to you. But I have to warn you, he’s not a big teddy bear. Sir Thomas Gillespie has done some pretty despicable things.”
“I know,” she said. “But he’s changed his ways. I’m sure in time you’ll see—”
“He killed my father, Libby. I’m not ever going to be able to forgive him for that.”
“How? How did he do that? I’m sure he wouldn’t have done so on purpose—”
“He was shooting clay pigeons at Lord Carnarvon’s estate.” I squeezed my eyes shut. The memory of it was painful. “My father had been sent to deliver an urgent message to Lord Carnarvon. He saw the men out on the field, and swung around the back to approach them. But Sir Thomas aimed his gun directly at my father and shot him out of the sky. He died from blood loss from the wound. Luckily, that was before Sir Thomas could suck him dry.”
Libby wrapped her arms around me, embracing me in her tiny body. She smelled sweet, like candy. I raised my hand, and rubbed her back.
“I’ll speak to him,” she whispered. “I’ll see what we can do to rescue your love. I don’t want you to be sad, Cole.”
“That’s enough of that. I’ll ruin you for Thomas if you keep on acting like a human being. Do you want me to do anything right now?” I asked.
“Sure. You can help me pack.”
For the next two hours I taped boxes and wrapped unicorn figurines in bubble wrap while Libby chatted about Thomas and witchcraft and her new life on the great Gillespie estate. I was amazed to discover she was actually quite intelligent. She had a vast knowledge of mythology and occult lore, and her bookshelf stocked books on everything from chemistry and Shakespeare to the hunt for El Dorado.
I was just taping up a box of kewpie dolls when Libby dropped a stack of books. “Of course!”
“What?”
“I know how I can help you. We can scry for your girlfriend. That’s one spell I know how to do.”
“She’s not my girlfriend … I don’t think.” I didn’t want to tell Libby we’d only known each other for a few days. ‘And what’s scrying?”
“It’s a seeing spell. I can look into a pool of water and see a vision of your floozy—”
“My what?”
She grinned wickedly. “You said I shouldn’t call her your girlfriend, so I opted for a replacement.”
“Just call her Belinda.”
“Very well. I could see a vision of Belinda at the exact moment we conduct the scry. We can find out if she is alive, if she’s hurt, and maybe whereabouts in Morchard’s castle she’s being kept.”
“Can you talk to her?”
Libby shook her head. “It’s just a vision, a flash of an image. But it can tell us a lot about her situation, it might even give a clue as to how to break her out.”
“But … why would you help me? Sir Thomas must have explained what having a Bran means. You own me, Libby. I am your slave. With that ring—” I pointed to the black band around her tiny finger, “—you can command me to do whatever you wish. If you want me to kill someone, I must obey. What I want is of no consequence. So why do you want to help me?”
Libby sighed. “Look, Cole, I’ll be honest with you here. I’ve spent my whole life living in this ridiculous room in this huge house filled with oppressive rules and bullshit social niceties. So I know a thing or two about having to do things you don’t want to do, OK? And I’m not going to do that to you. Now, I don’t care how Bran are treated historically, or what you’re used to with your other masters. You’re my Bran now, and that means things are going to be different.”
“Sir Thomas won’t like it.” I said. “He’s a traditionalist.”
“Thomas likes whatever I tell him he likes,” Libby grinned. “Don’t you worry about Thomas. So it’s settled, then. I shall scry for your woman. But not now, later tonight, when the moon is rising. Now, what do you say we go out to the garden? I want to see you fly.”
“Turn away,” I growled at Libby. I was standing on the edge of a crumbling fountain in the Carlisles’ overgrown garden. The sloping grounds of the hall were in an even worse state than the front facade. Libby explained that after her father died, her stepmother had inherited the hall. Rose didn’t have a love for it the way Libby’s father had, and she’d let the whole thing rot away while she spent all Libby’s inheritance on tacky clothes and diamond collars for her pet Chihuahua, Rufus. We were sitting on the edge of the ornamental pond, staring over its green, slimy surface back towards the house. Around me, raised beds choked with tall weeds shielded us from the view of anyone coming along the path, which was probably just as well, as they’d need to keep their head down in order to navigate around the tiny dried dog faeces that littered the concrete.
“Why? You worried I’m gonna freak out? Because I am marrying a vampire. It’s pretty much impossible to scare me.”
“No, because when I shift, my clothes don’t shift with me. And if I take them off now, it saves them getting all rumpled or falling in a fountain.”
“Ah, and no one sees the goods but Belinda. I get it.” Libby turned away, covering her eyes with one hand and stifling her giggles with the other. “I’m ready. I promise I won’t peek.”
I didn’t trust her one bit not to peek, but I figured if Libby was going to be bound forever to Sir Thomas’s aging visage for the rest of eternity, then she could do with a few sightings of a real man’s body. I pulled off my boots and stuffed my socks inside, then removed my shirt, jeans, and briefs. I turned away from the house and took a short run towards the nearest birdbath, forcing the change as I did so.
I flew over to the furthest garden bed, where a single rosebush peeked out from the weeds, the first red flowers just beginning to open. I plucked one of the brightest blooms with my beak and rose again, sailing over the garden back to where Libby waited for me.
I glided down to where Libby was sitting on the edge of the pond, and dropped the flower in her lap. I folded my wings in around my body and settled beside her, giving her a sharp croak by way of conversation. She picked up the flower, turning it over in her hand, her mouth forming an O as she admired its beauty.
“You’re wonderful,” she said, reaching down to stroke my head.
No one, apart from Belinda and my mother, had ever touched me with any kind of affection in my raven form. I butted her hand with my head, and unfurled my wings to show her their full span. Libby’s face lit up in delight.
“What’s going on here?” An angry voice thundered. I snapped my head up. Sir Thomas strode across the lawn, his handsome face red with anger. Behind him flounced Libby’s stepmother, carrying a tiny dog that barked loudly and squabbled to get away.
My veins surged with angry fire as Sir Thomas
’s power wrenched me away from Libby and flung me across the concrete. I managed to fold my wings out and catch my fall, swooping low over the flowerbed and coming back around. As I neared them, Sir Thomas threw me off balance again, and I skidded across the path, scraping my wounded leg.
Crooooooak! I cried out, struggling to untangle my wings from under my body and get up again. Every movement caused a fresh wave of agony to course through me.
“Cole!” Libby bent down, reaching out towards me, her face creased with concern.
“Don’t you touch that filthy bird!” Libby’s stepmother raged, grabbing Libby’s wrist and yanking it back painfully. Libby whimpered. Rose raised her leg to kick me. I rolled over, managed to lift myself off the ground and lunged for her face, flapping my wings and yelling a stream of obscenities she couldn’t possibly understand. She screeched and dropped the yapping dog. It darted forward, its tiny teeth bared, and latched on to Sir Thomas’s leg.
Sir Thomas grabbed the dog by its scruff and yanked it from his leg, tearing a long strip of his trousers with it. He tossed the dog into the nearest flowerbed. It leapt down and scampered towards the house, yapping at the top of its obnoxious little lungs. Rose screeched as though Sir Thomas had physically hurt her, and ran away after it.
“Thomas, baby. I can explain.” Libby grabbed his arm and tried to stop him from swinging at me.
“Change back right now.” Sir Thomas ordered me.
“No, Thomas, don’t—” Libby begged.
The ring on my finger twinged, signalling me to obey Libby’s wishes and remain as a raven. But, strangely, I felt my body begin to return to its human form. I didn’t want to end up naked in front of Libby’s mother. That would make everything worse. I pushed back against the sensation, focusing on holding together my body, keeping my feathers on the outside of the skin.
The power surged, and I lost. A wave of nausea swept over me. I crouched down and covered my head with my wing. A few moments later I was still hunched there, my hands over my head and humiliation burning on my skin.
Reaper: A raven paranormal romance (Crookshollow ravens Book 2) Page 8