“I had a little chat with one of them while you were playing hide and seek upstairs.”
Liz felt her cheeks flush in anger. Playing hide and seek? Did he think this was a game, or worse, did he think she was a child? She thought she had done pretty damn well considering how little she knew. Come to think of it, she should be furious with him right now. She could have been killed upstairs, and he’d been conducting an interrogation? Her breathing increased, and she could feel the hot anger racing through her entire body now. She opened her mouth, ready to let it loose on him, but never got the chance.
“Get ready,” he said, his eyes now on the basement stairwell.
“Ready for what?!” She hoped he could hear the wrath in her voice.
Oblivious to her, he hitched a thumb over his shoulder, towards the front windows, and said, “Trouble.”
Liz saw only the front yard and the trees beyond. The only trouble she could see was for whoever was going to have to cut the calf-high grass. She turned to ask him what he was talking about when she heard the rumble outside. She turned back, looking to the sky, and saw the line of darkness rolling towards them.
The storm. She had completely forgotten about it, and now it was upon them. She watched, helpless, as the black sheet of rain broke through the trees, raced across the lawn, and blotted out the sun.
“Wha-,” her question was cut short as she was knocked off her feet, and through the open doorway into the front yard. She landed hard on her back and slid a few feet across the already muddy ground. The pounding rain instantly soaked through her clothes, and fell on her face as she lay flat, trying to recover her breath. She cupped a hand over her face, shielding her eyes from the downpour. Lightning flashed, close, but not as close as the figure who appeared over her head.
“Where’s your master, slave?” definitely not Braughton’s voice asked as not Braughton’s sword was placed under her chin. This was the second time she’d been sent flying, but she had managed to hang on to her sword this time. Perhaps she was learning. She tightened her grip on it, wondering if she could knock his sword away before he slit her throat.
“Not a smart move.” Another figure appeared from the gloom beside her, and placed a foot on her blade. “Now answer the question.”
The flat side of the blade pressed against her chin, forcing her head back until she was looking at the vampire above her. She couldn’t make out his face, but could feel those red eyes staring at her, waiting. She had no idea where Braughton was, but knew that wasn’t going to be an acceptable answer. She opened her mouth, then smiled.
“There’s nothing funny here, slave,” he growled down at her. “Tell me where he is, or we’ll see if we can draw him out with your screams.”
“No need for that,” she replied calmly. “He’s right behind you.”
She felt the blade move as he turned, there was another flash of lightning, then both the vampire and the figure she had seen behind him were gone. The other vampire moved to draw his sword, but was grabbed from behind and tossed towards the nearby trees. The crashing thunder drowned out his screams as he flew through the air.
Braughton knelt beside her, looked her quickly up and down, then said, “I’ll take care of these two. You keep an eye out for the third one.” He was gone almost before she could even nod her head.
“No, no, don’t worry about me,” she said to no one as she sat up. “I’ll be fine,” she added with a sharp exhale. Definitely felt like a bruised rib. Or two, she thought as she rubbed her aching chest. She stopped. Braughton had said something about a third one. That’s right, she remembered there had been three blurs that disappeared into the basement to escape the sun.
Liz looked at the cabin and saw light spilling out the open doorway onto the empty porch. The rain was still falling heavily around her, but she could see she was alone in the yard. Good. With any luck, vampire number three was hiding out in the basement, giving her a moment to recover. She took a few deep breaths, feeling the spikes of pain grow less with each one. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. She should probably go give Braughton a hand, she thought, wondering what he might think of her had he caught her simply sitting in a puddle in the rain.
Liz stood on what she was glad to find to be steady legs, and cast one more glance at the cabin before turning to the woods in search of Braughton.
Wait.
She turned back. The doorway was dark, no light coming through at all, as if the door were closed. That can’t be right. The door was nothing more than splinters spread over the living room. She took several steps towards the cabin, and then saw movement, but that couldn’t be right either. It was a body.
Fe-fi-fo-fum. It was the only thought she could manage as she watched the hulking figure in the doorframe turn sideways and duck in order to pass through. The porch boards bowed and creaked under his feet as he slowly lumbered towards her. She swore she saw ripples in puddles as his heavy footsteps passed. She looked down at her sword, then back at his tree trunk of a neck, and she knew she was in trouble.
Braughton was still nowhere in sight, and the rain made it impossible to hear anything beyond a few feet. She was on her own. He smiled a mouthful of pointed teeth at her, and laughed as he pulled out a broad sword nearly as tall as her. What he didn’t know was she wasn’t scared to fight giants. Liz raised her sword and charged.
His eyes widened, surprised at the attack, but he simply widened his stance and waited for her. He raised his sword, ready to meet her own, and most likely knock her off her feet, but he met only thin air. At the last possible moment, Liz dropped to the ground, and slid through the creature’s legs, slicing up the front of one leg and down the back of the other as she passed.
Another bolt of lightning flashed, and the beast’s howls of pain rivaled the thunder that followed. Liz pushed herself up and spun around to see the vampire facing her. Blood ran freely down his leg, and his whole upper body heaved with every breath he took. The smile on his face had changed to a scowl, and she didn’t need a bond between them to be able to see the scenes of torture he had planned for her. Liz smiled and rushed him again.
He held his ground, though, with his legs closer together this time, and his sword low. Liz just pretended he was a second story window and launched herself over his head.
It wasn’t the move he was prepared for, but he recovered quickly, and he didn’t move nearly as slowly as she had hoped for his size. She managed to get one slash across his sword wielding arm, causing him to drop it. His other arm he swung wildly over his head, as though he were batting down airplanes, and it struck her in the side.
Her forward trajectory was completely stopped as her entire body crumpled and fell to the side. She hit the ground and rolled through the mud for several feet before coming to a stop. She lay still, the rain falling on her face, her entire body aching. At least she could feel her body, she reasoned. The comforting thought didn’t last long.
Liz felt a tight grip around her ankle, and then she was lifted in the air. Another hand went around her waist, flipped her right side up, and brought her face level with the oversized vampire.
“Where’s your master?”
This again? She wished she did know where Braughton was. She had a couple of questions for him too.
“Maybe you didn’t notice,” she said, “but I’ve been a little too busy to keep up with him.”
A hand wrapped around her neck. His smile was back. “Wrong answer.” His hand squeezed until she could no longer breathe. “Find your master.” His voice was even, and calm, while the panic built in her body. She clawed at his hand, and kicked against him, but his fingers wouldn’t budge. “Find him, and tell me where he is.” Her head was beginning to throb, and her vision starting to darken at the edges. Her hands grew heavy and dropped to her sides.
His grip loosened a tiny bit, and she inhaled greedily, feeling as though she were breathing through a straw. “I know you can feel him,” he said. Liz thought
back, remembering the few times she had gotten feelings, and even words and images from Braughton, but she had no idea how it happened. She closed her eyes, pictured him, called out to him, but was answered with only silence. When she opened her eyes again, the beast was staring at her. She shook her head.
“I can’t,” Liz whispered, a tear streaked down her face, lost in the rain.
“Try harder,” he suggested, and squeezed her neck closed again. Liz didn’t struggle this time, she barely had the strength for it anyway. Instead she focused again on Braughton. This time she didn’t listen for him, she went searching. There was something between them, a bond, and if she could just find it, she knew it would lead her to him.
Her eyes closed, and she let the rain wash the doubts and fears from her mind. With them out of the way, she peered again, and then she found it. A small thread, glistening in the darkness, for her to follow. She drifted along its length, seeing nothing beyond its gentle glow, but hearing the rain fall all around her. It crashed into the cabin roof behind her, and splashed onto the leaves in the forest, then rolled down to fill the puddles at her feet. As she reached the end of the thread, lightning flashed, and she saw him. No, she saw as him, through his eyes. She had found him.
Thunder boomed around them, and when she opened her eyes again she was back to herself, back in the monster’s grip.
“You found him.” It wasn’t a question, and she answered with a small smile and simple nod. “Where?” he demanded.
“The same place he was the last time someone asked. Behind you.”
The tip of Braughton’s sword pierced through the beast’s chest, sending a spray of blood onto Liz. The vampire tossed her aside and spun around to face Braughton before he could pull the blade free.
Liz rolled several times, finally coming to a stop on her stomach. She pushed herself up to her knees, and tried to recover her breath. Her neck still felt partially pinched shut, and her lungs burned with each gasp she took. She couldn’t do anything except watch as the vampire and Braughton cautiously circled one another.
The beast had recovered his sword from the ground, and was taking swings every time Braughton tried to close in. He didn’t stand a chance without his weapon, and the vampire wasn’t letting him get close enough to retrieve it. She had to help.
Liz gathered her strength and slowly stood. Now what? She needed to get the creature’s attention, somehow. Then she saw it. Her sword, just a few feet away, covered in mud. The plan, which was really nothing at all like a plan, was simple, and as she had just seen Braughton struck twice, was the only choice she had.
Sword in hand, Liz saw the perfect moment as the circle put the vampire’s back facing her, and she launched herself towards him. Hundreds of thoughts ran through her head: let me get close enough before he hears me, don’t slip, don’t let my legs give out, or my arms, let me time this perfectly, and why is the hair on my arms standing up? The last one should have given her pause for concern, but it was too late, she was already leaping in the air, sword raised, hoarse scream escaping her protestant throat.
She did time it perfectly. The beast turned, giving Braughton the chance he needed to pull his sword free, and she was able to plunge her own blade deep into his chest. What she didn’t count on was the lightning.
The bolt struck the vampire’s raised sword, sending hot electricity down his body, and throwing Liz several meters away. She crashed into a tree, hair smoking, ears bleeding, and vision becoming a dark tunnel. Just before the blackness overtook her, she managed to raise her head. Where the giant had once stood she saw a massive pile of charcoal pierced by a glowing, red-hot sword, and she smiled before collapsing into unconsciousness.
Chapter Twenty
The rain pounded down all around her, and while she was definitely wet, she couldn’t feel any of it falling on her. She could feel the cool plastic seat under her, and the low constant hum of the engine told her she was in the car. She opened her eyes and saw only darkness out of the passenger window. Her entire body was sore, and she was covered by mud in various states of drying, but she was alive. She rolled over to face Braughton.
“How long have I been out?” Her throat felt much better than she thought it would, but she could still feel that crushing hand around it. She rubbed at it absently, as though assuring herself it wasn’t still there.
“A couple of hours. We’re almost back to the monastery.”
Liz stretched and sat up in the seat, to much protest by nearly every muscle in her body. “Feels like I was hit by a truck.” It was a fair assessment, as she had actually been hit by a truck one time. “Did you know they came in that size?”
Braughton shook his head. “He’s the first one I’ve ever encountered. I have heard size doesn’t necessarily equate to strength for the vampire, but in this case I think there’s a strong argument to the contrary.”
“Agreed,” Liz said with a small laugh. “Score one for lightning though, right? Did you write that down?”
“Write what down?”
“Lightning.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because of the effect it had of turning that vampire into a pile of ash. I would suggest writing it under the pitifully short entry of vampire comma how to kill.”
“I don’t have a pen,” then after a brief pause, he added, “or a way to control lightning.” She stared at him in silence, wearing her best ‘I am not amused’ expression. He glanced at her a few times before clearing his throat and asking, “What about your gun?”
“What about it?” she replied, placing a hand on it.
“I heard it go off while you were upstairs. Was it effective?”
“Yeah, it worked perfectly.” He raised an eyebrow and turned to glance at her. “I used it to open a window.”
Braughton nodded, then said, “So, I’m guessing you don’t want me to write that down?”
“Good guess.” She turned back to the window, staring into the dark, thinking about what had happened, what she might have done differently. That’s when she remembered there was an actual reason they had gone there.
“Did you at least find the books?” she asked.
He nodded his head towards the backseat. “And then some.”
Taking up nearly the entire length of the backseat was a wooden crate filled to the top with books. Her eyes grew wide. “Are they all from the Order?” Her mind was already spinning with the possibilities of what they contained.
“The ones from the online auction are there on top, and they appear to be authentic. As for the rest, they’re definitely old, but the ones I could see weren’t written by the Brotherhood.”
“That’s a lot to go through.”
“There are more.”
“Where?” Liz peered around the seat, but didn’t see where any more books could be. “In the trunk?”
“In a warehouse.”
“A warehouse,” she repeated, doubt in her voice.
Braughton nodded. “Several more boxes just like that one.”
“And they just told you this?”
“I provided a little encouragement.”
“I don’t like it.” The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. “This whole thing feels like a setup.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it. We went there looking for those books, and it just so happens not only are there boxes more of them in some random warehouse, but you’re also able to convince them to tell you where it is?”
“I can be very convincing.”
Liz waved off his comment and continued. “There were what, eight vampires in that cabin? But the place didn’t look like they were living there. They were waiting. Waiting on us.” Braughton opened his mouth, but Liz had already figured this out and he was going to hear it all. “They knew who and what I am, probably even better than I do, and they were looking for you.”
“It’s an interesting theory,
” he granted her, “but I’m still going.”
“Theory?” she said with a frustrated laugh. “Have you been so focused on finding this history that it’s made you blind to everything else?” She let the question linger in the silence between them a moment, before crossing her arms and insisting, “I’m going with you.”
“No.”
“No?!” She was dumbfounded, her mouth opened and closed several times, but no words would come. It was anger she felt first, but was she mad at him, or herself? After all, he did have to save her … twice. “Did I do something wrong? Or do you just not think I can handle myself?”
“I think you did a fine job,” he assured her. “You are still alive, which is more than can be said for any of them.”
“Then why can’t I come with you?” There was something he wasn’t telling her. “Give me one good reason.”
“I’ll give you two,” he glanced at her, adding, “and they both assume you’re right about it being a trap. One, you’re hurt and need time to heal.” She wanted to argue she was fine, but she knew what was a dull throb over her entire body could quickly become much worse once she actually tried moving around. Plus, there was also the fact she’d only regained consciousness about fifteen minutes ago.
“If the cabin was a setup,” he continued, “I need to get to that warehouse before anyone figures out we were at that cabin, and are expecting us. I need to leave right now.” He looked over at Liz, silent until she grudgingly gave him a nod. “And two, if I’m walking into a trap, then I’m going to need someone to come get me out.”
They were good reasons, she had to admit. They weren’t the only ones though. He was still holding something back, she could almost feel it. Concern, for her. A doubt in himself, that he couldn’t keep her safe. There was more, something else he was keeping from her, but when she tried to push deeper she met only a silent wall.
Defeated, Liz shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “I just want to go on record as saying there’s a very good chance this is a trap, and I think going alone is a bad idea.”
Shackles of Sunlight Page 16