“What of the demon slayer?” one of the psychic demons asked.
“He’s not likely to free himself from the grip of my serpents, now is he?” Julian said. “We’ll let the humans find him, too, and do with him what they wish. Seeing him like this will give them quite a fright. It will prove he’s a sorcerer that needs to be destroyed.”
The horrible laughter of the demons lasted until they disappeared from Darius’s sight. All that remained was the screaming silence. “I’ve failed my friend,” he spoke the words aloud. “I’ll surely fail Elizabeth, too. I’ll never be able to help her recover her soul, and then my soul will be lost, too.”
Darius shut his eyes and felt the emotional coldness of the snakes winding their way around his heart in that same manner they had coiled around his body. The faith he yearned for was further from his reach than ever. He closed his eyes and waited for daylight to come.
Chapter 21
Once the king left, Elizabeth lowered her head and pressed her hands against her face. How could she have nearly allowed herself to turn Charles II, King of England, into a vampire? The possibility of saving her own soul slipped away with every wrong deed she did. Suddenly, another emotion swept over her, more powerful than guilt. Dread drenched her body in a cold sweat, and she stood frozen to the spot, listening to the rapid pulsing of her veins. Every instinct screamed that Darius needed her—and he needed her now.
Unwilling to waste another second, she yanked the groom’s clothing she’d kept in her wardrobe out, pulling on the fawn-colored breeches, fumbling as she fastened the ivory stockings with knee garters, and then jerking on the ruffled linen shirt. She’d just placed a feathered Cavalier hat upon her head, when the door to her bedchamber burst open. “I’ve really got to consider getting a lock,” she said aloud, when the great gray wolf with the black markings sprang into the room.
He stood on his hind legs, his enormous paws resting on her shoulders. He slathered and growled at her, but she shoved him off. “How the hell did you manage to get into the palace?”
The wolf elongated his body and transformed into a short, yet powerfully athletic man. “Sorry for the ferocious entrance, just a habit, I guess.”
“Why are you here?” Her eyes took in his naked body before she glanced away in embarrassment.
He grabbed a tapestry from the wall and wrapped it around himself. “I know how much staring at my naked body offends your sensitive eyes. In answer to how I got in, I came through the secret passageway into your antechamber while no one was around.”
“Remind me to have guards posted outside my apartment.” She turned away.
“I must say that’s not much of a welcome for someone who’s come to warn you.” He casually tied the tapestry around his waist.
Elizabeth spun around to face him again. “Have you any news? What is it? Have you heard from Darius?”
He ran his hands through the darkly curling hair on his chest and then brushed a fleshy hand over his head, pushing back a black lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. His topaz eyes glowed with a kind of sympathy Elizabeth found disturbing. “I’m not sure I can recall a thing, especially to someone who doesn’t even trouble to remember my name.”
“I remember you, of course I do.” Silence hung between them.
“Well?”
“Well what?” She furrowed her brow, furiously thinking.
“Tell me my name if you want my information.”
Her mind whirled. His name was on the tip of her tongue. “It’s Lawrence, isn’t it?”
“Close, but no pudding,” he said.
Eyes snapping, Elizabeth said, “What are you playing at? You’re not Rumpelstiltskin. It’s Lucas.”
He tilted back his head, and his laughter sounded like a howl.
“Quiet down,” she said furiously. “Do you want everyone in the palace to hear you? I remember now. Your name is Lance. That’s it. Now tell me what news have you?”
“Calm down, Your Ladyship, I was just having a little fun with you, because I dreaded giving you the bad news.”
“Darius. Is he, is he dead?”
“No, not yet, but he may be soon. He’s bound prisoner by Julian’s serpents.”
“Why didn’t you help him?”
“The psychic vampires think they control us, and I don’t want to do anything to disillusion them. We’re not prepared to challenge the psychic vampire demons yet, besides, Your Ladyship, there’s a spell to release him and I don’t know what it is.”
“I’m sorry for being rude, Lance, and I do thank you for coming and telling me. Could you please lead me to him?”
He shook his wavy, silvery head. “I’m sorry, but I’d best stay clear of the situation. We wolves can’t confront Julian, yet. But I can tell you what cemetery he’s at. Do you know the one that’s just outside the city gates where Lord Denham’s tomb is?”
“Yes, I know of it. I must go now, but I do thank you for taking the time to tell me what’s happened.”
He lowered his head and his golden eyes deepened to topaz. “There’s more trouble.”
“Tell me.” Her relief at the news Darius was alive battled with her dread of more bad news.
With a sympathetic whine, he said, “The witch finder killed three vampires before he was thralled by Julian.”
She saw his shoulders tense and his head cock into a listening position. “What is it?” she asked.
“Someone’s coming. I must tell you one of the vampires beheaded was the Duke of Denham.”
“No,” Elizabeth said. She shook her head in denial. “Are you certain?”
A sharp rap at the door interrupted them. Amelia stepped into the room. She paused in shock when she saw Lance standing there nearly naked, except for the tapestry wrapped around his waist. Her eyes lit with interest. “Am I interrupting something delightfully wicked?”
Elizabeth felt tears sting her eyes, and she reached out to Amelia. “No, of course not, but I’m afraid I have terrible news.”
Amelia focused on Elizabeth’s expression, and she seemed to be taking in the fact her friend was dressed in men’s clothing. “What’s wrong? John and Darius haven’t gotten themselves into trouble again, have they?”
Unable to blurt out what had happened to Amelia’s husband, she said, “Darius is trapped at the cemetery.”
“Is John with him?”
She drew in a deep breath and stared at her friend.
“Elizabeth? Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m so sorry, but John was killed by the witch finder.” She gripped her friend by the elbow to keep her from dropping to her knees.
“What happened?” Amelia’s already bleached face now had a pinched look about it. She clung to Elizabeth.
“I don’t have all the details. Darius is in danger, too, so I must go to him. Please stay here and rest.” She forced back the tears threatening to spill over.
“Are you mad? I’ve got to come, too. Do you have more men’s clothes?”
She reached into her wardrobe and handed Amelia the footman’s outfit she’d worn before. Amelia stepped behind a screen and put the clothes on, glancing from Elizabeth to Lance. “What’s he doing here?” She nodded in Lance’s direction.
“He came to tell us what happened.”
Amelia’s blue eyes flashed, brilliant and hard as sapphires. She turned on him. “You were present when my husband was killed?” Her hostility flickered threateningly.
Lance’s expression appeared oddly combative, yet brooding. “My Lady, I’m most sorry to admit I was there. That’s why I came quickly to give you the tragic news.”
“Why didn’t you help my husband, you damn mangy varlet?” Amelia rushed at him, scratching his dusky face with her long nails.
Shocked by her frenzied rage, Elizabeth rushed forward to pull her away from Lance. “Please, calm down. I’m certain Lance would have helped John if it were at all possible.”
Shoulders heaving with sobs, Amelia said, “Surely h
e and his pack could have done something. They’re wolves, aren’t they?”
Lance’s tawny eyes softened, and he drew Amelia to his chest, murmuring comfortingly as she continued to cry, making incoherent sounds. He stroked her tangled blonde curls, and he made chuffing noises that didn’t sound quite human, but Elizabeth was relieved to see it seemed to calm the distraught woman.
Elizabeth stroked Amelia’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, darling. You’re in no condition to come with me to the graveyard. I beg you stay here and rest.”
Amelia’s eyes narrowed and she stepped out of Lance’s arms, pressing her hand to her heart for a brief moment. “Just try and stop me from coming.”
Elizabeth knew better than to argue further. She lowered her head and nodded.
Lance bowed to both women. “I must go, but I swear the shape-shifters will do everything possible to protect your vampires from the psychic vampire demons.” He transformed back into a wolf, leaping out the window, giving a protesting howl as he left.
Chapter 22
Elizabeth and Amelia ducked through the palace’s secret passageway. Elizabeth still smelled the strong wolf scent Lance had left behind. She pulled her friend through a tunnel that led directly to the river. “We can’t take my coach, so we’ll hire a hackney when we get to the street. There’s no way we dare show ourselves in the open tonight.”
Amelia didn’t say a word, but she nodded her agreement. Elizabeth paused and took her by the hand. “No one expects you to do this. It’s too much to put you through after what has happened.”
She snatched her hand away. “I have to come with you. I must give John a proper burial before, before the sun comes up.”
“You’re right, darling. It must be done.” Once they reached the street, a hackney came careening down the cobbled street. Elizabeth leaned forward and waved the driver down. The carriage clattered to a halt beside them and the two women jumped back.
“Where to, lads?” the driver said in a high-pitched voice.
“To Bethlehem Churchyard in Cheap Ward,” Elizabeth said. She and Amelia barely had a chance to leap into the coach before the driver clattered off toward the cemetery.
When the driver pulled up in front of the stone gate of the cemetery, the women climbed out cautiously. Elizabeth tossed him a gold coin. “Return for us in an hour and I’ll give you double your usual fee.”
“Aye, lad, it’s late, but I’ll return for that price if you’re willing to pay.”
Inside the cemetery, Amelia grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and they raced across the cemetery, dodging uneven tombstones as they ran. “Come, there are stone steps over here leading down to the crypt where the family tomb is located,” Amelia said.
An owl hooted, and the sliver of moonlight ducked behind a cloud. Wind blew the fog away, and the silvered gravestones were easily seen in the scant light. Before they reached the stone steps, Amelia stopped short, causing Elizabeth to bump into her. A shriek of anguished, animal-like pain burst from Amelia when she spotted her husband’s body lying in a pool of blood, his head beside his body, mouth opened wide, as though in a sympathetic scream matching Amelia’s own great grief.
She collapsed into a heap beside her husband, one hand touching his chest, and the other reaching out to touch the cheek of his poor decapitated head. Her sobs came out in great, ripping tears.
Elizabeth dropped down next to her, whispering, “Amelia, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. What can I do?”
But Amelia, apparently oblivious to her friend’s puny efforts at comfort, continued to wail. After all, what was there to say in the face of such a horrible desecration? Elizabeth stroked her arm in a vain attempt at comfort.
A noise that sounded like a sympathetic moan to Amelia’s raw pain came from just over the knoll above them. Elizabeth dashed to where the sound came from. Her heart clenched tight and ached when she saw it was Darius, lying helpless on the damp grass. Fearful he was dead, too, she rushed over, but when he saw her, he warned her away. “Stop, lad, these are live pythons binding my arms and legs.”
Tossing her Cavalier hat down to the ground, and letting her auburn hair ripple over her shoulders, Elizabeth said, “It’s me, Darius, what can I do?”
“Don’t come any closer,” he said between gritted teeth.
“I’m not leaving you here. There must be something I can do.”
“Did you come alone?”
“Amelia is with me, but she’s not in any shape to help.”
“Who says I can’t help.” Amelia came marching over the knoll, even though the blood of her husband streaked across the front of her shirt and the side of her cheek. “What must we do?”
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
“I’ll never be right again, but we’ve got to release Darius before we can put John down in the crypt.”
“Of course, you’re right.” Elizabeth stepped closer to Darius. “There must be a way we can get the pythons to release you.”
“What if you do release them, and then they come after you or Amelia? I can’t take that chance.” Darius tried to pull his arms free but the pythons held him bound even tighter. “Go to the George and Dragon to find more vampires to help.”
“You know we haven’t the time. We’re willing to take that chance.” Elizabeth gazed at the pythons, and then she looked toward her friend for help, but Amelia shrugged helplessly.
“I think it was Lance who said there was a spell to release the snakes, but I don’t know what it is.” Elizabeth thought hard of all she knew about basilisks, but her knowledge was slim at best.
She’d been reading some manuscripts on psychic demons, witches, and basilisks, and she recalled that staring directly into the eyes of a snake was one way to hypnotize the creature. The only problem was the basilisk could take control of her if she wasn’t strong enough to overpower him. She knew these pythons came from Julian’s abyss, and they must be powerful indeed, but there still had to be a way to thrall them.
First, Elizabeth walked back over the knoll to where the crypt was located. She stepped down the stone steps and discovered an enormous granite stone blocking the way inside the crypt. Next to the stone, a hole about three feet wide served as the entrance. She peered down, but all she could see was a great, gaping blackness.
“Hell and damnation,” she muttered. Fear squeezed her heart, but she forced aside those feelings and marched back to Amelia and Darius.
“I’m going to thrall these basilisks and lead them down into the crypt. Once I get them down there, I have only one thing to ask of you both.”
“What’s that,” Darius asked.
“Get me the hell out.”
“Darling, it’s too dangerous.” Darius looked at her with pleading eyes. “You and Amelia leave now, before it’s too late. Go seek help.”
“Who’s to help us? We’ve got to do something before it gets light and Amelia and I are turned to ash beside John.”
“What do you want me to do?” Amelia asked.
“Do you still sing?”
“Excuse me?”
“Basilisks are supposed to be enthralled with music.”
“You know that I do.”
“Well, start singing now.”
Amelia’s crystal clear soprano voice rang out through the cemetery. She sang one of the songs written especially for King Charles after the Restoration, “The King Whose Presence.”
Elizabeth didn’t know if the singing soothed the pythons, but at least it was comforting to hear her friend’s beautiful voice. She drew right up to Darius and lay down beside him. He winced, but remained perfectly still. Her eyes locked with the red glowing eyes of the python wrapped around his shoulders and wrists. She drew in a deep breath and sensed the power in her own eyes was heating up the eye sockets of the snake.
The snake’s forked tongue flickered out of his mouth to the rhythm of Amelia’s song, nearly touching Elizabeth’s own lips, but she refused to cringe or break concentration.
“My God, get away, Elizabeth,” Darius said in a choked, hoarse whisper.
Imperceptibly she saw the snake’s stranglehold loosen around Darius’s massive shoulders before he slithered off him and started to wrap his reptilian body around her. Not daring to speak, she quickly rolled out of reach of the first snake, flipping around upside down and locking her gaze with the python that had entwined around his legs and feet. Only in the back of her mind was she aware Amelia was coming to the close of her song. The last words that rang out were, “Long live the king.”
Elizabeth found herself thinking, “To hell with the king, long live us!”
Just when those final words were sung, as though that was what he’d been waiting for all along, the second python unloosed himself from Darius. Now both snakes remained on either side of Elizabeth.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Darius raise his arms to throw flames of energy at the snakes, but nothing happened. With dread, she realized the snakes must have drained his energy.
Even while fear seized her heart, sheer determination made her stand up slowly and head toward the steps leading to the crypt. Refusing to flinch and not daring to look back, she heard the whisper of the snakes slithering through the grass at her heels. She wasn’t sure at all how long a thrall on a snake would last, but she feared she’d soon find out.
She reached the gaping hole of the crypt and lightning crackled across the sky, then thunder rolled. The sky seemed to split open and rain pressed down in torrents. Resisting the impulse to run away, she forced herself to remain calm. She lowered herself through the hole in the ground, into the deep blackness, using her arms and legs to brace herself, before dropping at least four feet down, hitting the dirt floor in a crouch.
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