The Air You Breathe (HEARTFIRE Book 3)

by Jave Kavfi

  Even if her hands weren't tied, there is little she can do against these men – she cannot allow herself to be injected. Trying to speak to them is met with an upheld hand and the command that she should be silent. She's trying to take regular breaths, slow her heart, stop hyperventilating. This is next to impossible and every part of her is shaking.

  Is this Eudora's doing? Is she going to be taken to her and for what reason? What are they going to do with Gideon? What harm will the shock of this do to the baby? The fact they know about the baby terrifies her. That they threatened to inject her, knowing the consequences to an unborn child is something she's trying hard not to think about.

  Caden has keys and if she hears him come in she's going to have to shout out to warn him. Her mobile and the shop phone have been constantly ringing. The shop door is rattling with the force of the wind. It feels like the entire building is being shaken by the storm. Her mobile rings again. One of the men takes it from her pocket and crushes it under his shoe. His hand has brushed her – his skin is as smooth and cold as marble. He has a faint chemical smell that reminds her of glue. There is no expression on either of the men's faces and they are identical in every respect. She realises they are both wearing wigs.

  Apart from the commands to stay silent, there has been no communication from the men, and very little between them. The unblinking eyes of the one with the needle have never left her. He is only a few feet away and could plunge it into her in seconds.

  One of the men shows his phone screen to the other, then goes to the front shop. She can hear the door open and by craning her neck she can just make out the rain-blurred shape of a black van at the kerb. Minutes pass and he hasn't come back. The other man makes a call, but is watching her closely, the syringe still in his hand. Could she do it – kick him before he gets the chance to plunge the needle in? Leap from the chair and use her bodyweight to knock him off his feet? Then what? Her hands are tied. He could overpower her and even if she made it to the front door, she could be caught by the man outside. If the contents of the syringe did that to a man the size of Gideon, what effect could it have on an unborn baby? She blinks back tears and forces herself to control her breathing. But sweat is trickling down her back and the beat of her heart is pounding in her ears.

  There is a peep from the man's phone and he glances at the screen.

  A shadow. A pop. The man has flown back several feet into the air. Caden is in the room, over the man – he fires again, into the man's head. "Did they hurt you?" he's saying, as he attempts to undo the device trapping her hands.

  "There's another one outside," she's shouting, as she rushes to Gideon's side.

  "There's not, he's been dealt with. That was his phone I used to distract this character. Keep still, I'm trying to get this thing off. I might need to use a bit of force and don't want to hurt you." He fiddles with the device some more, gives it a yank and her hands are released. "Let's have a look at what can be done here." He kneels beside Gideon and slowly removes the needle from his neck. "It's slow-release, still dripping in."

  "He needs the antidote."

  "I know – Hetty's on her way with it. She had to go pick it up, and I wasn't hanging around to wait."

  "You found Hetty?"

  "She found me. Told me this pair were on their way."

  "What are they? Not like the others? He didn't turn to dust."

  "Different kind. They're not human. What Hetty calls automatons."

  "Robots?"

  "No. More like the inanimate has been brought to 'life'. To eliminate them you have to hit just the right spot where the processors are located. I only know what Hetty told me and we didn't have much time. Speaking of that – I wish she'd get a move on. You sure they didn't hurt you?"

  "Apart from being scared out of my wits – no. Will Gideon be all right? I mean, he can't actually be killed, can he? Seeing as he's already dead."

  "No, but he can be permanently reduced to this state. Like suspended animation. We need to neutralise whatever was in that needle. Tell you what – that silencer was a good idea. We need to get another. It's pretty crazy you having a gun in here without one. The sound of a gunshot would totally blow our cover."

  "How did you get in? I didn't hear you."

  "Couldn't risk the back or front door – he might have had a view of both. Got in through the next garden, up a drainpipe, in through the window Holly left open, and crept down here. There are bars on the lower level windows, so we need to do something about that. Don't want to get caught-up in another fire."

  Someone is banging on the door. "Wait here," he says as he goes to answer it. Hetty comes flying into the back shop.

  The content of a smaller syringe has been injected into Gideon's neck. "Give me your arm," Hetty says to Caden. "The process can be speeded up with the addition of human blood. Undead won't do. Your knife too – I seem to have misplaced all of mine."

  "His blood?" Ana says. "I don't think so."

  "Would you like me to take some of yours?" Hetty says with a smirk.

  "Just do it," Caden says, giving her his knife and holding his arm above Gideon face. "Don't look, Ana – you've been through enough for one day."

  He's given an actual psychopath a knife and offered his bare skin? Ana is throwing him a pleading look.

  "No choice," he says. "This pair have saved our lives more than once."

  "Hold it over his mouth," Hetty is saying, as she cuts through Caden's skin. He curses and grits his teeth. Ana looks away again as the blood begins to drip.

  "Fook sake, Caden – you're getting blood on my pumps and them best patent. More care should be taken or I'll give you another stabbing."

  "Nothing like getting your priorities right, Hetty," Caden mumbles.

  Gideon is recovering on the sofa. He and Hetty have been listening to Caden telling Ana what happened at Ryden.

  Hetty giggles and puts the back of her hands under her chin. "Oh, boo hoo – poor sculptor. Hankering after his wet child."

  "Don't be so unfeeling," Gideon tells her. "The loss of a child is a terrible thing."

  "How would I know about children?" Hetty says with a pout. "I was murdered before I had the chance to have one."

  "Yes, my sympathies and all that, but as it was well over a hundred years ago, one would think you'd have gotten over it by now. You need to be more sensible – we're running out of money and must find employment. There is an advertisement for a couple to work at a country home in the area. A nanny and a gardener. We might apply for the position. Try to at least look as if you are good with infants. The position of nanny requires some interaction with a tot."

  "I shall give it scissors and knives."

  "You won't. The child must be all in one piece when we leave. More or less..."

  Hetty stamps off towards the door. "Children are such a bother. I would say there are far too few drownings of them. I must go rinse my frock of bloodstain – the carelessness of men is vexing and tries my temper no end."

  Chapter 43

  Ana comes into the kitchen to find Hetty sitting on the table, dressed in a tutu and licking a candy cane. Pots are boiling over on the cooker and the smell of burning and various other unpleasant odours fill the air. "Hetty, what are you doing? You said you would help with the food preparation while I looked after the shop."

  "Reading sonnets, of course. I have the situation under control and the food is nicely cooking. I solved the dishes problem by putting them in the dustbin – there are plenty more clean-ish ones that can be used."

  "What? You can't throw out the dishes."

  "Why not? I needed the sink to wash my feet. My pumps are too lovely to be risked on such a floor and are now safely resting."

  Ana turns down the flame under the pots and opens the oven door. Clouds of black smoke billow out. "What are you actually boiling, anyway?" she asks, opening a window and peering into one pot. "Oh, my god... That's not what I think it is, is it?"

  "If you're thinking blood, th
en you made the correct assumption. Just the thing for Gideon's consumption. I'd be agreeable to your guests partaking of a modest quantity, though greed will bring about a slapping."

  "Where did you get it? No, in fact, don't tell me. And we're not serving the guests blood. I feel sick just at the sight of it."

  Hetty leaps off the table and adjusts her tiara. "You're always sick – that beastly baby must be a poison to your system. I'm going to lie down and do some peaceful reading – all this helping is draining me something awful. I prepared pickled pig's head and tongue of oxen, and now they're nicely cooling."

  "Ana – what are you doing?" Caden is saying from the doorway as Hetty skips out of the room.

  "I'm currently fighting back nausea, thanks to Hetty," she says, as she lifts a tray of burnt food out of the oven. "Do not touch the contents of that pot. How did the appointment go?"

  "Great. Client happy and we're a little richer. Who was that girl I saw coming out of our bathroom?"

  "Cribber's niece, Byrony – he phoned just after you left to let me know she was coming. Said we had to clear a room in the attic for her and she'll be helping in the shop. So, looks like there will be three rooms in use up there – Gideon and Hetty don't appear to have any urge to move on."

  "She's moved in? You are joking – it can't happen. Last thing we need. She'll be like a spy."

  "That might be the idea. Couldn't refuse – it is his shop. He also said you've to keep your hands off her. Touch her on pain of death."

  "Bloody nerve. I think it's fair to say she's safe with me. God. Put that lot down and come and sit in the courtyard for a while. You push yourself too hard."

  "I can't – I need to get back to the shop."

  "You don't. I locked-up when I came in. You need a break and I'm going to join you."

  "We can't." She's picking dishes out of the dustbin.

  "We can. You're going to sit down with your feet up for a while."

  "I still need to get everything ready for the book festival party this afternoon. There are loads of people coming and–"

  "No arguing." He takes the dishes from her and puts them in the sink. "I'll do all the prep work later – there's an hour before everyone arrives. Come on." He's grabbed both her hands and is walking her to the back door.

  "Caden..."

  "Don't you Caden me. You notice anything?"

  "The blossom's out on our little tree! How did I miss that? It's beautiful."

  "Just happened this morning and you've been too busy working yourself into the ground to notice. You need to let up. Sit. Feet up." He kicks two chairs into place.

  "Bossy..." she says, but collapses into one and puts her feet up on the other. "Ah, bliss... Any update on the Ryden situation?"

  "Not much. I'm trying to lie low so I don't attract attention. I've already had to give the police a statement, so let's hope no-one gets curious enough to do a check on me. The cause of Jonny Thompson's death has been confirmed as a heart attack, as the medics thought at the time. I'm 100% certain that it was the work of Evangeline. That he died of shock, either from seeing the girl he murdered, or a combination of that and any supernatural forces she brought into play – that whole building was shaking like hell. And, let's face it, Evangeline was a little on the dark side, even in life. Thankfully, Lucinda seems not to be questioning the mayhem in the building. Probably still in shock herself."

  "So, you worked out yet who Evangeline was trying to help?"

  He shakes his head. "We'll never know. The return of her sister and her murderer obviously stirred something in her spirit. You know her body is buried in the family crypt there? I reckon it could have been motivated by revenge. Gertie's been out there to offer Lucinda her condolences, so there's a good chance we'll get some more information soon. You know Gertie..."

  "He was actually willing to kill his son?"

  "Seems like it. We don't know the facts yet, but I bet he was responsible for that kid being out on the lake. Probably wanted to shut the boy up over something. He wanted the estate he believed was rightfully his and was willing to marry someone he thought was a blood relative to get it. He was lying about his connection with the family, and it could be the kid was going to blow his cover. And there's a good chance it was him following Sarah that time. Was going to silence her because she recognised him. People got in the way of his plans and they were toast. Or he might have been a raving murderous psycho who was that way inclined and didn't need a motive. God knows how many people he bumped off over the years. And talking of that – the nanny. There's been no sighting of her since last week. The old guy who lived in the cottage on the estate – same thing. They both disappear and leave all their stuff behind? I'm thinking that's highly suspicious."

  "You think Jonny had something to do with their disappearance? Seems likely. But we shake all that up and we're going to attract attention, like you say."

  "Yep, the sooner I get identity papers, the better." Boris gives a bark and Caden's eyes go to the back door. "Here comes the spy."

  Byrony marches towards them and crosses her arms. "Why is the shop closed? Why are you two sitting around doing nothing? Why is there a man sleeping upstairs? Who is the strange girl dressed like a ballerina? She threatened to slit my throat when I confronted her. Why is there a pot of blood on the cooker and a pig's head in the fridge? Why does your cat bark like a dog? What's this party about – do you have permission to hold one? I'm going to phone my uncle and tell him all about this. And don't think you're in charge now, because you're not. I'll be running the place and I'm going to make changes."

  Ana and Caden both narrow their eyes.

  "What a very agreeable party this is," Gertie says, as she takes a tray of food from Ana. "But you must have a seat, my dear. You have done more than enough for one day. I will pass around the nibbles."

  "No, sit down and talk to me for a while, please. I want to know if you found out anything else about what happened at Ryden."

  "Ah, yes, what a dreadful business that was, but at least the child is well now. I went over to offer my condolences to Lucinda, and it looks like she has very little idea about the true nature or identity of her husband. More may be revealed to her at some point. Apparently, his first wife, who was ill for years, died when she removed the breathing tube she needed to keep her alive. Or did she? The boy may have seen more than we know. I made some initial enquiries through my contacts and it would appear Jonny did live in Larksbury for some time, and his change of name was due to the fact his mother remarried and the man adopted him. We can only speculate as to the cause of death of his adoptive father and his mother – there do seem to have been a good number of deaths within his family.

  "My impression of the entire matter is that Jonny Thompson had psychopathic tendencies in general, but he also had a simmering resentment of what he saw as the withholding of his rightful place at Ryden. This may have festered over the years and became more urgent once his business was failing. It could be he eventually made a plan to seek Lucinda out, keeping secret his previous association with the family and the area. He would know she had inherited Ryden, and I presume he got to work on her to change her mind about returning. He thought nothing of eliminating anyone who got in the way of his plan.

  "As yet, there is no sign of Miss Patterson – could she have left her luggage behind? Norman Watson too has apparently made a speedy exit out of Dashbury, which seems out of character for an elderly man so set in his ways. But the little girl – Kenzie – has said she saw a younger man with a bushy beard go into the cottage at one point. That may have been his long-lost son, and it is possible Norman left with him."

  "Bushy beard? The man who broke into our house had one, though that doesn't mean much," Ana says. "Is Lucinda going to stay on at Ryden, do you know?"

  "It is uncertain, as yet. By the way, my nephew Mark sends his apologies, but thought best he did not attend today. There may be someone here he wants to avoid and it is best he does. I dare say that wife
of his will keep him on a short leash. When will people learn that love cannot be forced? The heart knows what it wants."

  "Ruby?" Ana says. "Yes, she was showing an interest in the book group and noticed the flier for the festival party, so I invited her to come along. Up until then, I didn't know Doctor Blake was your nephew."

  "Yes, and a good man. I'd like to point out the only reason I didn't call him to attend to Caden's gunshot wound was because Mark would have felt obliged to report it to the police. He plays by the book, or I thought he did..."

  "Who's the miserable looking bird with the mouth like a hen's arse then?" Tyler says to Caden.

  "You know what – it's easy to see why you're a class one girl-repellent. You might as well sign-up for a monastery, if they'll have you, 'cos there is no way you're getting any in this life or the next. She's Bryony – Cribber's niece."

  "Ha – you knew who I was talking about then. Man, she's rough..."

  "Well, knowing you, you'll still try to hit on her. Don't. Cribber will make it his business to put you in a shallow grave."

  "What, her? You think I'm that desperate?"

  "In a word – yes. Just don't. Henry says he's got some more work for us. You up for it?"

  "Too right." He has a slug of beer and wipes a hand across his face. "That bird in the fancy get-up is a bit of a looker, ain't she? But she's a raving nutter. I was trying to chat her up and she threatened to garrote me – whatever that is. You don't half have some weird mates. Probably all down to you being a bit posh.

  "Anyway, this is just a quick warning – word's out you've got a gun, and it's got back to Dean. One of the little shites from Larksbury's been shooting his big mouth off. Me and Dean go way back, so I managed to convince him it was just that little fuckwit doing some stirring, but just letting you know. Doesn't bother me, but I reckon every one of you here have a fair bit to hide." He looks towards Gideon, who is heading in their direction. "Talking of weird mates – I'm off for a cig. Can't make out a bleeding word that guy says."