by Karen Dales
Shutting her mouth, Jeanie stepped into the room and closed the door. She could not believe the change that had come over him. No longer burnt, Fernando’s skin took on a deep bronze colouring, as if darkly tanned. There were still a few patches that appeared red while others seemed to be peeling.
“There’s a chair over there if you wish to sit down.” Fernando absently waved to the seat next to the dormant hearth and turned. “I presume that you have come to discuss the other half of our bargain.”
The hard wood seat forced Jeanie to sit straight. “Aye.”
Fernando harrumphed and walked over to the single bed, casually sitting down with one leg bent before him while the other dangled to the floor. His dark brown eyes locked onto her form. “And I presume that you have a plan?”
Jeanie opened her mouth to snap a retort and then shut it. Taking a deep breath, she let it out in a huff. She doubted that Fernando would agree with what she had in mind, but he had promised.
“Aye, I do.” Jeanie crossed her arms over her chest. “I was hopin’ t’go back today.”
“Fine,” replied the Noble. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve fed on nearly every cow from here to Bellingham - not a pleasant task to say the least - and I am tired.” Fernando stood and gracefully walked to the door. “I’ll meet you at sunset.”
“No,” barked Jeanie as she stood.
Fernando turned to face her, eyebrows raised. “Pardon? Are you releasing me from our agreement? If you are I am quite amenable to that.”
“I’m no doin’ that either.” Jeanie paced a few steps and then halted. She had made him agree to go and rescue the Angel, but could she make him agree to the next? “We need to go now, during the day.”
Fernando’s bark of laughter rang off the stone. “Oh this is rich.”
With preternatural speed he had Jeanie up against the far wall, his hands resting flat against the stone beside her head, his body pressed against hers.
“What makes you think I’ll agree to step outside during the day again? I may be a lot of things, but I am not suicidal, nor am I self sacrificing.”
The scent of Fernando’s breath mingled with the sudden bump of her head against the wall, made Jeanie wish she had not eaten. Lifting her gaze to meet his, she could still smell the lingering scent of burnt flesh.
“Because if we dinna go now and wait for night we’ll both surly be kilt.”
“You’re saying a lot of things, li’l miss,” scoffed the Noble. “But you’re not telling me anything that I want to know.”
“Our agreement was that I’d tell ye after we got the Angel back.”
“It was, but you didn’t say that you wanted to go back during the day.” Fernando tilted his head, his gaze resting on her pale neck peeking out through the green scarf.
Jeanie’s hand absently rose to touch the puncture wounds from Violet’s bite, her breath coming faster at the sensation.
“Well, that’s interesting,” stated the Noble, “and I thought you were just hot for the Angel.”
Jerking her hand back down, her fingers curled into a fist. Oh how she wanted to strike him but knew it would be an act of futility and most likely would break their agreement. “I’ll tell ye now who are killing the Chosen if ye agree to come with me now.”
Fernando pushed off from the wall, giving them space. “I doubt there is anything you can tell me that is worth the price of me going out in the sun again. The Angel’s most likely dead in any case.”
Locking her jaw, Jeanie felt the surge of anger and forced it down. It was not the time, nor the place, yet. She did not know how she knew, but there was no doubt in her mind that the Angel still lived. Lifting her balled fist up to her neck wrap, she carefully untied the knot and pulled the fabric away.
“The one’s killin’ the Chosen are Vampires.”
The simplicity of the statement riveted Fernando’s gaze back onto her neck. The fact that he did not laughingly dismiss her notions chilled her and suddenly he was upon her, lifting her chin to study the two dark marks on her neck.
“You’re lying,” hissed the Noble, spittle hitting her face. “The Chosen are Vampires.”
Despite the firm, immobilizing grip, Jeanie managed to minutely shake her head. “That’s what they want ye to think,” she gasped. “All the stories, they weren’t about the Chosen. They are about the Vampires. Vampires who canna bide the day and must sleep in coffins. Vampires who afear sanctified objects. Vampires who die with a stake to their hearts. Vampires whose mark is two wounds instead of four. Vampire marks that dinna heal quickly, but linger like this.”
Glaring at the unhealed puncture wounds, Fernando ran a dark finger across them, barely catching Jeanie as her legs caved out from under her. Steadying the girl on her feet, he watched as Jeanie’s eyes contracted and her heartbeat slowed.
Once she was stable he released her, confusion darting his eyes back and forth before realizing the truth to her words. A Chosen’s bite would have healed. A Chosen's bite would have been four. Any mark left would not have caused such a reaction in a mortal if touched.
“Fuck.”
“So d’ye believe me?” Fully recovered, Jeanie took a tentative step forward.
Fernando screwed up his face and shook his head in a futile attempt to shake off the truth.
“It’s not possible. It’s ridiculous, yet it makes sense. It was so difficult to kill them.”
He turned his back and walked over to the desk, laying his hands flat on the worn wood. “We assumed mortals, but the stories about Vampires were just that - stories. Many of us thought the fictions were based upon some mortals meeting us but not really knowing.” He lifted his head. “But how could they exist?”
“How is it that the Chosen exist?” answered Jeanie. The Noble’s obvious disturbance at the truth sent shivers up her spine.
Stepping away from the desk, Fernando cocked his head and regarded Jeanie before finding his suitcase. “Touché. If this is truly the case then I need to get back to London. This is not what we first thought it to be. Shit. Genocide of the Chosen by Vampires.”
“London?” barked Jeanie. She knew she should not be surprised at him going back on their deal, but she would not give up on the Angel. Walking over to the bed where Fernando placed his open bag, she slammed it shut, nearly missing his fingers. “Ye promised me.”
Irritation flashed across brown eyes as Fernando stepped back. “This information goes beyond our arrangement.”
Jeanie opened her mouth; an impotent reply remained wordless on her lips as her fist struck the Noble’s jaw. For a brief moment she was shocked at her action and the blood that welled from his split lip before fear curdled her stomach at seeing the cut heal to nothingness.
Surprise flashed across Fernando’s features as he tested his jaw. “I could easily kill you for that.”
“I ken.” Jeanie clenched her teeth. “So are ye gonna honour our agreement or are ye gonna prove that ye have as much honour as a Vampire - which is to say none.”
Fernando’s head jerked back. Releasing a huff, he flung open his suitcase.
“You’re going to wish you were never born after we get the Angel back,” he growled, pulling out rumpled black pants. “Now get the hell out of here. I’ll meet you at the entrance and you had better make sure you have that damned covered wagon and enough blankets. I’m not in the practice of risking my neck.”
Stunned at the Noble’s compliance, a smile slowly lifted her lips as she made for the door. “Ye’ll be happy t’hear that it’s raining out.”
The door closed behind her. A string of expletives that would make her father blush muted behind the old wood. Grinning at her success, she hurried down the corridor that would take her to the stables and the covered wagon.
Chapter XXXVII
Miserable, Fernando sat cross-legged, blankets solidly covered him as each bump and shift of the cart spasmed healing muscles. Gritting his teeth, Fernando could do nothing to release the anger and frustrat
ion he felt at allowing himself to be wrangled into such an undignified position twice! The first was, albeit, necessary to save his life, but to agree a second time was degrading. He hated how Jeanie had wound him into her machinations to free the Angel, but he could not dispute what she had shown him. Not only of what was murdering the Chosen, but the necessity of honour when those who would see his kind wiped from the earth, held none.
For centuries, he and other Chosen had, at first, laughingly accepted “Vampire” as a description of who and what they were despite the complete fabrication of what the mortals believed them to be. Foolishly the Chosen assumed the mortals were fictionalizing them and used the name to fashion themselves a new vision based upon the horrific images the stories lent. It seemed to give permission to act in ways that were, well, more to the liking of those Chosen who revelled in moral depravity. After all, was it not expected of Vampires to act monstrously?
A jarring bump threatened to topple the Noble over. If it had not been for the blankets stabilizing him, he would have. Instead he hissed through his teeth and placed a hand along the wooden slats in an effort to keep his purchase. The rain beat down upon the canvas, drumming pools where the fabric sagged until even the tight weave was no match for the persistent fluid. Drips splattered down onto the blankets, adding their incessant metronome to the discord.
Releasing a huff, Fernando still found it difficult to grasp the reality that Vampires existed and they were the ones killing the Chosen. The evidence on Jeanie’s neck corroborated by her story was indisputable. Added to the fact that the men he had stabbed and sliced who did not fall had moved nearly as fast. Shivers ran up Fernando’s spine.
If he could not tell the difference between a mortal and a Vampire, then what chance did the rest of the Chosen?
Or worse yet, he thought. What if we can’t distinguish between a Vampire and a Chosen because we’re all calling ourselves Vampires?
Mouth suddenly dry, Fernando licked his lips and swallowed. Fear coiled around his belly. It could only mean that those he knew for absolute certain to be Chosen could be trusted, and that was a dwindling number.
Fernando’s first instinct was to run back to London to tell Mistress Katherine what he had discovered and let the Court deal with the repercussions. But how do you fight this? Worse yet, would Katherine believe him even if he brought Jeanie along? The coil drew tighter and he knew she would not. The only one who could possibly add to the veracity to these claims would be the Angel. If Katherine would not believe the Angel then many others would, thereby placing pressure upon her to act accordingly.
Fernando frowned. Yes, many would believe the Angel over him because despite everything else about the man, the Angel was honourable. A flush of embarrassment rushed through the Noble. Fernando would do the honourable thing. After all he was the one who instigated the partnership and he had absolutely no doubt that had the situation been reversed the Angel would now be sitting in this Godforsaken cart on the way to rescue him. The realization made him even more uncomfortable than the ride.
The cart came to a stop with a creak and a shudder. The discrepancy between the sound of falling rain on either side of the wagon and none on the covering canvass proclaimed they were sheltered. Lifting off the blankets, Fernando took a cautious peek and found himself in muted darkness. Dull grey light sifted in through the back exit. Though the sun was still up, it was clear that the bulging clouds masked most of the suns deadly rays.
Unexpectedly, Jeanie’s head popped into view as she pulled on the latches, opening the end so that Fernando could easily slide out.
“C’mon.” Her breath puffed before her soggy face. Dark red ropes of hair plastered her face and shoulders. “We canna stay here all day.”
With the snap of metal and wood, he was able to get out. Feet landing with a squish, he felt the cold mud seep around his booted ankles and gazed up. Above him dark grey stone protected him not only from the rain, but also from direct light. A shiver shot through him with the realization he was out in the day with no recourse but to trust this mortal girl to get him back to safety, along with the Angel, if they found him. Skin prickling Fernando absently scratched his arm.
Glancing at the girl, Fernando noticed that she was soaked through and through. Her normally healthy looking appearance was fraught with blue tinges around her mouth, including her lips, and dark bruising around her eyes. It did not take a genius to realize that Jeanie was unwell and pushing herself past the limits her body could well afford.
“So what’s your plan now?” demanded Fernando, his voice gruff.
Jeanie glanced at the front door. “We go in.”
“Through the front door? That’s insane.”
Jeanie turned to face him. Her normally vibrant green eyes, dulled to ocean depths. “Violet will be in her crypt - or so I overheard. Ye and the Angel killed almost every mortal she has and any Vampires left will be dead to the world too. I assume ye can handle any mortals we will find still awake, let alone alive.”
Pursing his lips in annoyance, Fernando bit back an argumentative reply. Instead he asked, “And what if the Vampires wake? I’m not in the best of shape to fight them one handed while I attempt to protect you.”
A sarcastic smile lifted the edges of Jeanie’s lips. “Ye, protect me? I wouldna believe it even if I were t’see it. In any case, Vampires canna wake during the day.”
“And how do you know this?”
“The stories.”
Fernando straightened and watched her go to the front door. It was bold and downright foolish, but he had to admire her audacity and hoped that she was right.
The door opened on heavy creaking hinges. To all appearances the entrance was a mausoleum. No sound came from any part of the mansion and they both stood in quiet awe at the lack of evidence of the battle that had ensued only two nights ago.
Stepping in, Fernando closed the door and winced at the resounding bang. They both halted in anxious expectation until they could not hear sounds of approach.
“So where did you say Violet has the Angel,” whispered Fernando, eyes not relinquishing his surroundings.
“Her entertainment room.” Jeanie frowned.
He could see and sense the returning of warmth in Jeanie’s face as the blue edges gave way to a healthier pink. “And where’s that?”
Jeanie’s frown deepened. “I dinna ken.”
“Well that doesn’t do us any good,” huffed Fernando. “You can’t expect us to go from room to room looking for him. We’ll be caught for sure.”
The front door slammed opened admitting a dark blonde man of middle years, dusting off droplets of rain from his hat onto his coat. “Whoever left that blasted wagon there will not live to see the dawn.” Muttering angrily, he did not notice the two intruders until he lifted his gaze.
Turning to face the man from the night of the attack, Fernando smiled. “Tried it. Didn’t work.”
The mortal’s head snapped up eyes wide and jaw slack.
Not one to pass up an opportunity, let alone a chance for revenge, Fernando grasped the man by the throat and slammed him into the doorframe. Blue eyes rolled before fixating on him in a squeak of suffocation.
“Dinna kill him,” shouted Jeanie, coming to stand next to the Noble. “Yet.”
Surprised by the girl’s coldness, Fernando smiled. “I never thought you’d come around.”
Cold hatred filled Jeanie’s eyes.
Fuzzy warmth filled Fernando and he turned to face the man squirming and gasping in his grasp.
“You - you’re supposed to be dead,” rasped the man between laboured breaths.
Fernando enjoyed watching the bulging eyes, wondering when or if they would finally pop their sockets. “The rumours of my demise are greatly exaggerated. Wait. This is getting repetitive.” He squeezed a little tighter.
“Ease up, Fernando.” Jeanie laid a hand on his arm and fixed her gaze on their prisoner. “We need him able to talk.”
Pleading blue
eyes flashed to Jeanie as he tried to speak.
Fernando let go with a resolute sigh. He was so enjoying the slow demise he was offering. It was scarce punishment for the pain and indignities he suffered. “Fine. You’d better talk.”
The man’s eyes flickered from the Noble to Jeanie. “Oh thank you for coming back. I knew you couldn't to stay away once my Lady kissed you.”
Jeanie’s hand snapped up, covering the puncture wounds, her eyes wide. “That’s no’ why I’m here.”
Fernando caught the tremor of her voice.
“What’s the problem?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
“Nothing,” retorted the girl, shaking her head. “Violet be damned. She’ll no hae me.”
Realizing that he had no understanding of what Jeanie was talking about, Fernando turned back to their unwelcome guest. Eyes boring into the man’s he quickly caught the beat of his heart and the rhythm of his breath and Pushed hard. “I’m going to give you one chance and one chance only. Tell me where the entertainment room is.”
The man stumbled as if struck and Fernando caught the man by the arm to keep him upright. Without breaking eye contact, the Noble smiled as he felt all resistance in the man fade and dullness descended over his eyes.
“Down the hall, through the doors off to the right. A set of stairs will go down to the north cellar,” came the monotone reply.
“I think we got what we needed from him.” Fernando turned to face Jeanie. Her face hardened once more and she nodded.
Fernando turned to face the hypnotized man and regarded him with a head cocked to the side, wondering in what manner he was going to kill this pitiful excuse for a mortal. Sudden inspiration flashed to mind. “Do you wish to do it or shall I?”
Obviously pushing the girl too much, Fernando watch Jeanie turn her back and walk away.
Bringing his attention back to the man, his smile broadened. “Die,” he Pushed.
A shuddering sigh escaped from pale lips as the man’s blue eyes rolled up before his body slumped to the floor. Wet clothing smacked the tiles as the scent of bladder and bowels released.