The Complete 1st Freak House Trilogy: Box set (The 1st Freak House Trilogy)

by C. J. Archer

  I hung upside down. My cap had fallen off back in the scullery and my long hair skimmed the brute's thighs. I twisted and fought him, but it was no good. I began to cry, great wracking sobs that I couldn't control. Jack was going to die, and I was going to become another test for a madman.

  "Bollard!" Jack shouted. "The knife!"

  I looked up to see Jack catch the small knife he'd been carrying lately. It must have fallen out of his pocket. It wouldn't kill the demon, but perhaps it would slow it down.

  The demon barreled toward him. Bollard jumped on it and Samuel too from the other side. But the demon kept going, on and on toward Jack. Just as it reached him, Jack stepped neatly aside and thrust the knife into its chest.

  It stumbled and fell, taking Bollard and Samuel down with it. They scrambled up. The demon did not.

  Then it did the most peculiar thing. It let out a piercing cry and began to disintegrate. It was like watching a pile of sawdust blow away in the wind. Within seconds, there was nothing left.

  I gasped out a cry of relief.

  Jack, still breathing hard, turned to us and ran. We had stopped to watch the demon dying, the sight mesmerizing everyone, but the sight of Jack approaching at speed set Ham going again. Tate too.

  Jack was fast. I renewed my own efforts to release myself, kicking and hitting Ham to try to slow him down. It was working too. It worked so well that when Ham looked back, he stumbled and fell.

  I landed on my hands and knees, mostly unharmed. I scurried out of his reach, but it didn't matter. He didn't try to grab me. He'd already got up and was facing down Jack.

  Ham was clearly the stronger, and Jack was obviously weary, yet his supreme speed meant he dodged several of Ham's punches. It also meant he could duck and drive the knife into his opponent's body.

  Ham's eyes widened. He began to disintegrate into dust, just as the other demon had done. It was all over in a moment. Ham was gone.

  Tate too. He must have slipped into the woods while we were occupied.

  Jack knelt in the mud beside me. "Hannah," he gasped out. "Hannah…are you all right?"

  I nodded and dragged in deep breaths. I may not have worked hard, but my chest hurt from lack of air.

  He pressed his lips together and clasped and unclasped the knife in his fist as if he were undecided about something. Then he pulled me into a brief, powerful embrace. Heat blasted me from the inside. Fire shot from my hands and Jack's too, only to extinguish in the damp grass and mud.

  We sprang apart. I breathed heavily, trying to regain my composure. He swore and punched the ground with his fist.

  "Jack," I said. "You did it. You killed both demons."

  Samuel and Bollard came up to us. They looked as terrible as Jack. Hair messy, covered in mud, and bruises and cuts on their faces and knuckles. They both bent over and sucked air into their lungs.

  "Wait here," Jack said, standing. "I'm going after Tate."

  "Be careful," I called out to him as he ran off. "He may have a gun."

  "He would have used it on us if he did," Samuel said, following Jack. Only Bollard remained with me, and I was grateful not to be left entirely on my own.

  I couldn't take my eyes off the woods. I scanned the trees, looking for danger. My ears strained for any sounds, but the woods were silent. Bollard and I stood side by side, watching and waiting. I expected him to return to the house, but he didn't.

  Eventually, after what seemed an eternity, Jack and Samuel returned. Without Tate.

  "He's gone," Samuel said when he reached us. "We found hoof prints in the soil. He must have ridden away."

  "Bloody hell," Jack bit off. He kicked the ground, gouging out a clump of muddy grass.

  "At least Ham is gone," I said. "Tate won't have anyone to help him now. If that amulet belonged to him, it's useless." Yet I doubted that Tate had summoned the second demon. He seemed surprised to see it, nor could he control it the way he could control Ham. "Do you think it was Tate's doing?"

  "We may never know," Jack said darkly.

  Samuel cast a resigned look in the direction in which Tate had run off. "Going by his reaction, I wonder if he's innocent on that score."

  "That means someone else summoned it," I said. "Who? And why?"

  Nobody had an answer to that. The dreadfulness of the thought threatened to overshadow our victories, so I changed the subject. "How could that little knife kill those things?"

  "I was wondering the same thing," Samuel said.

  We didn't get an opportunity to discuss it. "Hannah!" Sylvia shouted from one of the windows. "Hannah, Jack, come back inside."

  "We should do as she says," I said.

  Jack glanced into the woods then down at the knife in his hand. It was the one with the beautifully carved handle that had been given to him by his parents. The only thing he had left from them, so he'd once told me.

  We walked—or limped—back to the house and made our way to the parlor. Sylvia and Langley met us there.

  "Tommy?" I asked. "Is he…?"

  "What happened to Tommy?" Jack said, rising from the chair again.

  "I'm here," Tommy said, entering. He balanced a tray on his good arm, a teapot with three cups and saucers on it. A large bump bulged on his temple.

  "Are you all right?" I asked. "You were out cold when I left."

  He gave me a lopsided smile. "I've a bit of a headache, Miss Smith, thanks for asking."

  "He just came to not long ago," Sylvia said with a scowl. "He was in no condition to come and help. Nor should he have been near hot things yet."

  Tommy paused and squeezed his eyes shut. The tray tilted dangerously to the side and Jack took it off him. "Sylvia's right," he said, setting it down on the table near me. "You should be resting. Besides, I need something stronger than tea."

  "Already here." Tommy nodded at the smaller table near the window where a decanter and glasses sat. He rubbed his head and winced.

  "Sit down," Langley snapped. "You're making everyone uncomfortable. You too, Bollard."

  Tommy sat, but Bollard did not. In fact, he signed something to Langley then left us altogether. Langley watched him go with an unreadable expression.

  "You killed them," Sylvia said, pouring tea. Her hand was surprisingly steady considering what she'd just witnessed. Usually merely uttering the word kill would have her trembling, but she seemed as steady as someone with more fortitude. "I saw from Uncle's window. How?"

  Jack pulled the knife out of his pocket again. "I stabbed them both with this."

  "But I thought knives couldn't harm demons."

  Samuel handed Jack a tumbler of brandy and offered another to Tommy. For once, Tommy took it without hesitation. Langley accepted a cup of tea from Sylvia. "Let me have a look," Samuel said.

  Jack passed him the knife. He turned it over and rubbed his thumb down the blade. "It's a good-looking piece. I like the detail in the handle. It would have taken a lot of skill to carve such an intricate pattern. But I don't see how it could have killed Ham and that other creature. It's quite small for one thing."

  "Do you think Mr. Culvert was wrong?" Sylvia asked.

  "What exactly did he say about how to kill a demon?" Langley held out his hand for the knife and Jack passed it to him.

  "He said a special incantation needed to be spoken while holding the amulet," Jack said. "It should send the demon back."

  "Nothing could kill it?"

  My gaze locked with Jack's. "A blade forged in the Otherworld," I said.

  He stared back at me. Blinked.

  "You said your parents gave that to you."

  He nodded and took the knife back from Langley. He touched a finger to the point. "It's the only thing I have from them."

  Sylvia lowered her cup to her saucer. The clatter was loud in the heavy silence. "How did they come to possess a blade forged in the Otherworld?"

  We all looked to Langley, but he merely shrugged. "I can assure you I don't know the answer. I am as intrigued as you are."

/>   "Thank God you have it," Samuel muttered. "Or we would have been…you know."

  Jack drained his glass and filled it again from the decanter.

  "Interesting," Langley said, as if he were observing the results of an experiment. "Whoever is keeping watch on Hannah must have the knife on them at all times in case Tate summons another demon."

  "I'll be the one protecting her," Jack said. He spoke as if it were a given and not open for debate.

  Yet that is what Langley did. "Samuel is capable too."

  Samuel looked as surprised by the suggestion as Jack. "Of course I'll relieve him whenever necessary, but I'm sure he'll want to be the one with her most of the time."

  "Thank you, Gladstone," Jack said quietly. "And thanks for your help out there. You would make a formidable opponent in a fair fight."

  Samuel went to say something, but Langley cut him off. "If you wish to remain in this house, you'll watch Hannah when I ask you to."

  "Er, yes. Of course." Samuel gave an apologetic shrug to Jack. He scowled back, then fixed a brutally blunt glare on his uncle.

  Langley turned his wheelchair around and rolled out of the parlor. I was quite certain now that he was attempting to push Samuel and me together. I felt saddened, although I didn't really know why. It didn't matter what he wanted or ordered us to do. Our hearts dictated to us, not him. And yet I wanted him to understand the depth of feeling between Jack and I. Wanted him to accept it.

  The tension remained after he left. I think we were all waiting to see what Jack would do. In the end, Sylvia was the one who broke the silence.

  "You all need baths," she announced with a wrinkle of her nose.

  There were two baths in Frakingham. One was located in a bathing room in the damaged part of the house, and another in the butler's pantry. That one had to be carried upstairs by the servants to our bedrooms and filled from pails. We would have to take turns.

  "You first," Samuel said to me.

  "Come with me to the lake, Hannah," Jack said suddenly.

  Sylvia gasped. "No! I absolutely forbid it."

  "We'll stay in the shallows. It'll be quite safe."

  "She may be safe from drowning," Sylvia said, hand on hip, "but have you forgotten about Tate?"

  "Propriety be damned. As to Tate, he won't come near us for a while. He's weak and alone. Besides, if he summons another demon, I'll use this again." He indicated the knife in his pocket. "Well, Hannah?"

  I nodded. "All right."

  ***

  We carried towels down to the lake. We both kept our eyes peeled for Tate, but there was no sign of him. As we passed the spot on the lawn where Jack had killed the demon, I paused to look for any trace of it. There was none.

  "I wonder how your parents got a hold of that knife," I said.

  "I don't know. I don't even know if it came from them."

  "Oh? I thought you said it did."

  "It's what I've always believed." He shrugged. "But it could have been given to me by anyone when I was baby."

  "Do you think Langley was telling the truth when he said he knows nothing about it?"

  "Who knows anything for certain about Langley? Except perhaps Bollard." He looked down at the churned up mud and grass near where the demon had died. "I'm just relieved that it's gone."

  "Me too." We set off again for the lake. "What do you think happened to the souls of the children it consumed?"

  He lifted his face to the gray sky as if he could find them there. "I don't know. I hope they got out somehow. We'll write to Mrs. Beaufort and ask her. She may know."

  "We ought to tell the Beauforts and Culverts anyway. They'll want to know what happened."

  "I suspect Culvert will want to see the blade too."

  We reached the edge of the lake and placed our towels on a grassy patch. Jack removed his shoes and indicated I should do the same. He then removed his waistcoat, but left his shirt and trousers on.

  "Are you going to wear all of that in?" he asked with a nod at my dress.

  I cast a glance back at the house.

  "Don't worry about Sylvia," he said.

  "I'm more concerned about Langley."

  "Forget him too."

  "That's not easy to do. He won't like this. He doesn't seem to want us to be…together."

  "I don't care what he does and doesn't want where you're concerned. He won't throw either of us out, if that's what you're afraid of."

  My protest died on my lips. I had been worried I realized. "I don't want to leave Frakingham," I said. "Or you."

  His smile started out as surprised and quickly softened to reassuring, melting my heart. "If you ever do leave, I'm coming with you."

  Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. I was too stunned to speak.

  He backed into the lake and beckoned me. "Come in, Hannah. It's freezing."

  The water lapped at my stockinged feet then my knees. He kept wading backward until he was waist deep. I followed until I was in up to my thighs. The lake bottom was pebbly and sandy, the water clear. I could see my toes.

  "Cold?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said. "It's lovely." Cold water and air had always felt good, but this time it felt even better. The icy water soothed my hot skin and cleared my mind. For the first time in a week, I felt more alert, not at all tired. "It's like medicine. I feel…cured."

  But we both knew I wasn't cured. When I got out of the lake, I would feel unwell again. At least I knew I could always come to the lake if the heat ever became too much.

  Jack disappeared beneath the surface and came up again a moment later. He moaned. "That's better."

  "Your cuts hurt?" I asked.

  "A little." Knowing Jack, that was code for 'a lot.' "The water soothes them," he added. "Come in further. Put your whole body in."

  I walked until I too was in up to my waist. My skirts billowed on the surface and the stones underfoot became slippery. "I can't swim."

  "Just a little more then put your face under."

  I took a step toward him, and another, and soon the water was up to my chest. I tried to push my skirt down, but it kept floating up again. Damnation.

  Jack laughed.

  "I'm glad you find this amusing," I said.

  "Here, let me help."

  "No, if Langley sees…" I stepped back and slipped. I went under the water. My feet struggled to find purchase on the pebbles. I flapped my arms, but my skirt got in the way. It was around my head, weighing me down, holding me under.

  Panicked, I opened my mouth to scream. Water rushed in and up my nose. I couldn't see, couldn't breathe.

  Then two strong arms grabbed me and pulled me to the surface. I coughed and spluttered in Jack's face, but he didn't let go. He held me, rubbing my back until the coughs subsided. I clung to him. Our bodies pressed together from chest to hip, our arms wrapped around each other. We were as close as we'd ever been…and nothing happened.

  No sparks, no fire, no heat. Well, perhaps a little heat, but not to an alarming level.

  He realized it too and caught my face in his hands. "Hannah," he murmured. His eyes blazed brightly, his face filled with wonder. "Do you know what this means?"

  "The cold water cools us enough so that we can touch."

  He nodded. "It also means I can do this."

  He kissed me. His lips were so soft, yet his mouth urgent. Hungry. It was like we were in a fever, tasting and teasing. I pressed my hands to the back of his head, holding him. He wound my hair around his fingers and held on as if his life depended upon it. My heart pounded in my chest, and I thought it would burst out. I didn't care. I just wanted to taste Jack's kisses.

  "Hannah," he murmured without fully breaking the kiss. "You're so perfect." He circled both arms around me and clung tight.

  Speaking of perfection—I wanted to touch him all over, feel every inch of hard muscle that I'd been dreaming about for weeks. I ran my hands over his shoulders, across his chest. I tore at his shirt, popping the buttons, and dove inside. He groaned ag
ainst my lips.

  "We have to stop," he gasped out, "or I'll never forgive myself."

  I didn't want to stop. I knew what would happen if we kept going, and I wanted it. Wanted to feel all of him, be with him. I knew it was wrong and I didn't care. How could I when it felt so right?

  I took his hand and placed it on my breast. Shocks of heat tore through me. A spark shot from Jack's fingers and sizzled in the water.

  He stepped back with a yelp and let me go. I plunged my hot hands under and steam rose in wisps.

  The moment dragged while we both caught our breaths. "Well," I finally said. "It would seem ice-cold water only works to a certain point."

  He turned around sharply and groaned. "This is going to kill me, Hannah. Not being able to touch you…"

  "We can touch," I said. "We'll just have to make sure it doesn't go so far next time."

  He groaned again, louder. "Easier said than done."

  "Yes," I muttered, staring down at my hands. I felt leaden, tired, and misery threatened to overwhelm me. I closed my eyes and forced all sad thoughts away. I could not afford to spend even a moment feeling sorry for myself when I had so much to be thankful for. I had Jack.

  He turned around and gave me one of his sad smiles. "Thank you, Hannah."

  "What for?"

  "For trusting me and coming into the lake."

  "I almost drowned."

  "I won't let anything happen to you. That's a promise."

  A lump clogged my throat. Swallowing and talking became impossible, so I nodded.

  "We will find a cure," he said. "We have to, because I refuse to lose you."

  My lip wobbled and I hugged myself. All I could manage was another nod. He'd never sounded so convinced of my recovery and I didn't want to say anything to bring back his doubts.

  He held out his hand and I took it. There were no sparks. The heat of the moment had dissipated along with its intensity, and the icy water was once more acting as a balm. "Let's go back inside," he said. "I'm sure Sylvia has her lecture all prepared for us by now."