“Where have you been?” I demanded, relief flooding my veins at the sight of him. “I could have done with your support today.”
Byron shrugged, and flicked a smear of dust from the lapel of his leather jacket. “It’s good to see you too, little bro.”
“Alex said you hadn’t been at the house all day, and she didn’t know where you were. You could have been lying in a gutter somewhere, for all I knew.”
“I’ve been at a witchy shop with Ryan’s mother, reading through dusty tomes, trying to hunt down some way to break this stupid curse.” Byron held up his blackening finger and scowled. “As you can see, it’s been really successful.”
“Next time, tell people where you’re going before you dart off,” Alex admonished him. “Elinor and I were starting to think you’d been taken by Morchard as well.”
“And I thought I’d given up having to report my whereabouts when I went rogue?” Byron raised a defiant eyebrow.
Alex looked like she was going to say more, but I held up my hand. “Don’t bother. This is just another example of Byron’s winning personality.”
“Good. Everyone’s here,” Libby said. “We can begin. Ryan, you sit in that chair over there. Cole, you sit in the middle of the couch, and Byron, go on the end. Thomas, you stay in that chair. If the ladies could sit between the guys, this spreads the energy evenly.” She set the bowl down in the centre of the table, and gestured for Simon to fill it with the water. She dumped out the contents of the pouch on the table. Several crystals rolled out in all directions. Libby selected a piece of clear quartz suspended on a long chain, and held it up for everyone to see.
“I need everyone to focus on this stone,” Libby said. “Don’t try and move it, just push all your thoughts about Belinda into it. We should be able to see where Belinda is at this exact moment in the water. I know this seems a little kooky, but trust me, it works.”
“If it can help us save Belinda, I’m in.” said Elinor, sitting forward in her seat.
“On the count of three,” Libby held the chain above the bowl of water, and counted down. I focused on that tiny piece of quartz, pushing out my message to Belinda towards it, not sure if that was what I was supposed to do but knowing I had to believe this would work. Belinda, I’m coming to save you. I won’t let Morchard hurt you. I love you ...
The quartz jumped in Libby’s hand. “I see something,” she leaned over the water. “The shapes are just beginning to emerge. Can you see anything, Cole?”
I peered into the bowl. A ripple formed over the surface, distorting the image of my face that stared back at me. All I could see was the light from the chandelier reflected in the surface of the water. “No.”
“I see …” Libby leaned closer. “A black-haired woman. Asian, wearing a grey jumper and jeans.”
“That’s Belinda.” I dug my nails into my knee. “Can you see where she is?”
“She’s walking in a garden, with another man. They’re holding hands. There’s a …” Libby squinted at the bowl “... catapult of some kind behind them.”
The trebuchet. That confirmed Belinda was definitely still at the Morchard’s. But who was the man with her? Why was she holding his hand? “Can you describe the man?”
“He has short brown hair, cut in a kind of conservative, preppy style. He’s wearing a red sweater. His face is turned towards her, so I can’t see it.”
Odd. That didn’t sound like Victor Morchard. The only person in their family who had brown hair was Harry, and he was dead. Did they have someone else held prisoner there? Was this man some kind of friend or bodyguard of the Morchards? But then, why was Belinda walking with him? And smiling? And holding his hand?
My heart ached. I thought Belinda only smiled for me.
“... they’ve stopped walking …” Libby was saying. “They look like they’re discussing something heated. Belinda looks upset. He just leaned in and, omigod, I think they’re kissing.”
“What?” My whole body flared with heat. Blood pounded in my ears.
“It’s hard to tell from this angle.” Libby said hurriedly. “I can’t tell who initiated it, but he’s cupping her face with his hand, and—”
She’s kissing someone else. The news stung as though I’d actually been physically assaulted.
Maybe … she’d realised what I’d finally figured out. That I wasn’t any good for her. That she would have no kind of a life with a slave, even a slave of someone as lovely as Libby. I had nothing to offer her. I was an even bigger deadbeat than her last boyfriend. This guy, with his brown hair and red sweater, could be the guy she actually needs.
But who the fuck was he?
“—they’ve disappeared inside, through some French doors into a ballroom.” Libby was saying. “It’s difficult to see, because it’s so dark, but they’re going up some stairs. He just hugged her and walked off down a hall. She’s going up another staircase, and down a long corridor. There’s a room, a dusky pink room with French antiques …”
Libby set the crystal down. “It’s gone.” she said. “I can’t see anymore.”
“That’s more than enough,” Ryan said. “The ballroom, the catapult, the staircase, the French room. This is enough to give us a location, isn’t it, Cole?”
“Cole?” Alex nudged my arm.
I stared down at my hands, rage building inside of me. Who was that man walking with her around the courtyard and hugging her goodnight? It should be me, it should be me.
“The least you could do is thank your mistress,” Sir Thomas admonished me.
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
Libby patted my shoulder. “Relax, Cole. You’re such a typical man. You see one image of your woman with another guy and you think she’s done the dirty. There could be a hundred other explanations.”
“She was kissing him.” I growled.
“Not necessarily. I could’ve misunderstood something. If this Belinda is anything like what you’ve told me, she has not forgotten you in a few days.”
“And besides,” Alex added. “We’re going to rescue her soon, and then you’ll be able to ask her yourself.”
“We are?” My heart leapt.
“We are?” Sir Thomas screeched.
Alex nodded firmly. Elinor lifted the bowl of water off the table and Alex unrolled her paper on top. It was a map of Morchard Castle, in extreme detail. Every floor, room, entrance, stairwell and cupboard had been noted.
“Woah, where did you get those?” Libby peered wide-eyed at the map.
“The gallery keeps a ton of old architectural drawings in its collection,” Alex explained. “These were done in 1912, so they might not be a hundred percent accurate. For example, they don’t show the aviary Cole was telling us about. But I think they will suffice for our needs. Cole, can you help us out with a location?”
“The trebuchet is in the walled courtyard.” I jabbed my finger at the map. “The ballroom is here, and the hallway Belinda walked through is in the east wing – it’s the guest wing. I didn’t go there very much, but I think that French room is this one here.” I pointed to a room on the third storey.
“The window in that room looks right out over the courtyard.” Alex said. “If that’s where he’s keeping her then we’d need to get into that courtyard in order to reach the window.”
“It makes sense that he’d keep her there,” I said. “This wing can be cut off from the rest of the house with a few locked doors. The only rooms on the ground floor she’d have access to were the ballroom, the servants’ quarters, and the kitchen. And, I saw those birds sitting around the wall of the courtyard. They must be acting as some kind of guard.”
“I agree,” Byron said. “They were still sitting on that wall when I did a flyby today.”
“Here’s the plan as I see it,” Alex said. “I think we’re unlikely to get anywhere by going inside the house. Victor will have the whole place guarded. He obviously thinks these birds are enough to keep us away. What we need to do is distract them o
r scare them off the wall, leaving the courtyard unguarded. We’ve then got to get Belinda to either come downstairs and sneak out through the ballroom, or to climb out her window and jump down.”
“That window is three storeys up!” Elinor cried. “She’ll kill herself trying to jump.”
“We bring in one of those large air mattresses they use in movies for stunt jumps,” Bianca said. “One of our clients is filming in the abandoned mill at the moment. I’ll see if I can source one from him.”
“If you guys can get the birds away from her, I’ll fly to the window and explain the plan.” I said. “I’ll make sure she knows what to do, and I’ll neutralise any guards in her room.”
“Just neutralise?” Elinor asked incredulously.
“Sure. Neutralise with extreme prejudice.”
“We’re going to need everyone to work on this together,” Alex said. “We don’t know exactly how things will play out. We need to be prepared for every eventuality.”
“But how are we going to get those birds away from the walls?” Byron asked.
“I was hoping you and Clara could come up with something,” Alex said. “Maybe there’s a way to—”
“Perhaps I can help,” an unfamiliar voice spoke from the doorway.
I whirled around, and saw a man poking his head and naked shoulders around the door. Wild strands of hair poked out in every direction, many sections almost appearing striped and dotted with black. Odd, even with my superior hearing, I hadn’t heard anyone approach.
I leapt up and stalked towards the guy, certain he must be a spy of Morchard’s. “Who the hell are you?” Ryan demanded, joining me in advancing menacingly on the newcomer.
“I’m surprised you don’t recognise me. I’ve only been skulking around your ankles for the last few days, tripping you up in the hall, putting hairballs in your coffee—”
“You’re … Chairman Meow?” Realisation dawned on me.
“Sure am, gorgeous.” The man replied, holding up his hands in surrender. He had a dramatic, lyrical voice. “I’d step out and shake your hand if I could, but …” He stared down at his body, hidden behind the frame of the door. “There are ladies present, and I wouldn’t want to frighten them.”
“Chairman Meow?” Bianca frowned. “Wait a second. You mean to tell me Belinda’s cat is a—”
“Cat-shifter, yes.” An older woman bustled into the room, wiping her hands on her floral apron.
“And who are you?” I glared at her. This was becoming ridiculous.
“Miss Havisham, of course.” She had a no-nonsense tone. I looked at her round face and salt-and-pepper hair. She did have the look of Alex’s cat. I couldn’t believe it hadn’t even occurred to me that they might be …
“I cannot believe this.” Elinor moaned, glaring at Miss Havisham. “You were watching me in the bath the other day.”
“I wasn’t looking, dear. I was just waiting for you to jump out so I could have a drink.” Miss Havisham rapped her knuckles against the side table. “Right, sit down, Cole, Ryan. The Chairman and I believe we can help with the rescue. We can provide an ample distraction to those birds.”
“But first ...” Ryan opened a drawer in a cabinet beside the door and tossed the naked cat a set of clothes.
“Nice threads.” Chairman Meow ducked into the hallway.
“You know that something isn’t right with those birds,” Miss. Havisham said, sitting primly on the edge of the couch and brushing imaginary crumbs off the front of her calico dress. “But they are still birds. And the sight of a cat sends them into flight.”
“How are two cats going to lead away all those birds?”
“We’ll get the whole glaring gang in on it.” Chairman Meow smiled, as he sauntered back into the room wearing a pair of Ryan’s pants. They hung low around his thin, muscular hips. “We know every cat in this neighbourhood, and they’re all signed on to help. We’ll give those birds a taste of the wild.”
“Can we trust a bunch of cats?” Byron growled. As a chick, he’d had a particularly nasty run-in with a cat. He’d lost half the feathers on his right side, and now he couldn’t even look at a cat without tensing up.
“Do you have a choice?” Chairman Meow grinned. He reached across the table and swiped the scotch from in front of Byron, slurping it back in one gulp. “Look, I love Belinda, too. She’s my girl Friday. I want to help rescue her.”
“Then it’s settled,” Libby said. “We make our move tonight. Bianca, get on the phone with your client. Ryan, we need some tools, and Cole …” she squeezed my knee affectionately. ”I need you to chill the fuck out. Don’t worry. We got this.”
8
Belinda
“I’m so sorry,” I squeezed Tony’s hand as we walked around the edge of the trebuchet. We kept our heads bent close together, so we could whisper to each other. Even though Tony assured me the birds wouldn’t understand English, I was paranoid one of them might be a Bran in disguise, and would report to Victor that we were plotting our escape. The last thing I wanted was to endanger Tony’s life, too.
I’d just told Tony about Victor discovering me, and how I’d dropped the vial. I felt awful. All those birds could do some horrible damage if they ever got free, and I’d just destroyed the only means of stopping them.
“It’s OK,” he whispered back. “There will be more antiviral. Victor wouldn’t just make a single dose, in case this exact thing happened. Don’t worry, Belinda. We’ll find a way to get out of here with all the evidence we need to send Victor away. In the meantime, we can enjoy each other’s company. It’s actually quite nice out here in the courtyard, if you ignore those damn birds.”
His words struck me as a little odd, but I figured he was just trying to cheer me up. It wasn’t working. I’d been on the verge of full-blown, hysterical panic ever since Victor had banished me from the laboratory. He hadn’t come to find me, and I was terrified what he would do to me.
“It’s not OK.” I buried my head in my hands. “I’m such a failure. My shop…my relationship…my finances – everything. And now I’m stuck here and I’m so afraid—”
“Aw, geez, don’t say that.” Tony prised my hands from my face. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him. I rested my head on his shoulder, tears falling from my eyes.
“Belinda, look at me.” I lifted my chin and stared into his blue eyes. Tony leaned in, wiping the tears from my cheek with his fingers. He pressed his mouth against mine, his lips cold like a fish. His tooth brushed against my lips, sharp as a needle.
What? I flung myself back, wrenching my body from his grip. “Tony, why did you do that?” I pressed my fingers to my temple, unable to process what had just happened. I rubbed my lips, trying to rid them of the cold, fishiness of his kiss.
“You were upset.” He took a step towards me, reaching for my arm again. “I wanted to help you chill out.”
“This is not helping—” Tony kissed me again, more forcefully this time. I pressed my hands to his chest and shoved him away. He skidded against a flower bed, massaging his lip.
“Ow. I bit myself. What gives?”
“Tony, you seem like a really nice guy, but it’s not that way with us. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I was interested. I’m seeing someone.”
“The birdman.” Tony spat the word like it was poison. “Is it that serious?”
I laughed bitterly. “I don’t know. Half the time I didn’t even know if he really even fancied me. Victor Morchard is trying to convince me he was using me, but I just don’t buy it. But then, what do I know? I’ve been trapped here for several days now, and Cole hasn’t stormed in like the charge of the light brigade to rescue me.”
“Then why does it matter if you’re with me?” Tony reached for me again. “Come on, Belinda, you know we’re great together. I feel this energy every time we’re in the same room. We’re all each other has right now. I need you, just as much as you need me.”
“I’m not ready for another
man yet.” I walked towards the house, my heart hammering against my chest. “Maybe what this whole horrible experience has taught me is that I’m not ready for a man at all.”
“You mean you’re going lesbian?” Tony jogged after me, his shoes clattering loudly against the marble floor of the ballroom.
I laughed. “At least you always make me laugh. That’s what a good friend is for. I need good friends.”
“I want to be more than friends, Belinda.”
And there it was, his heart laid bare. And he looked so hopeful, staring at me with those wide, blue eyes. But it wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right.
I shook my head. “Please don’t, Tony. Let’s not ruin what we have going here by making it into something more than it is. I’m just not able to be what you want right now.”
“Fine,” he embraced me, and nodded to the stairs. “Goodnight, Belinda.”
“Goodnight, Tony. And I truly am sorry.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” He disappeared down the hall, his head hanging. I watched him leave, sad to have hurt him but glad he’d taken my rejection so well. Then I descended the stairs towards my room.
Tap tap, tap tap.
I was trapped inside a large, cold crypt. Water dripped down the stone walls, pooling in the dark corners. Rodents scuttled across the stone floor. A thin shaft of light from a decorative iron grating illuminated the long stone coffin in the centre of the room. A horrible feeling crept over my body, a feeling that I wasn’t alone in there.
I leaned my shoulder against the door, bracing myself against the stone plinth and leaning my whole body into shoving it open. The door jerked outward an inch, then wouldn’t budge. I shoved it hard, and it juddered back and forth. It was locked from the outside.
Panic was starting to rise up within me. I hammered my fists against the door. “Somebody help me!” I yelled, my voice reverberating off the cold walls.
Reaper: A raven paranormal romance (Crookshollow ravens Book 2) Page 10