“You must think me horrible and wicked,” cried Eveline, a strange pain in her lungs causing her flinch.
“I think nothing of the sort, I think you are a beautifully strong, young woman who has got herself into a bit of a scrape,” Sighed Galean. “I won’t stand in the way of you and Theodore. I will not put pressure on you, and I will not cause you anymore pain.”
“In a way you are giving me an escape and yet you are breaking my heart,” Eveline cried pitifully. “I don’t feel like a strong woman, I used to be so sharp and focused, I feel weary and weak now.”
“You need to rest,” murmured Galean.
“Where will you go?” Eveline asked gently, pressing her hands to his chest tenderly.
“To my father, he needs me and I need him,” smiled Galean.
“And if I need you?” muttered Eveline.
“You cannot have both of us Mon Cheri, you can only have one and you must love him with all that you are,” urged Galean. “But if something happens and you need me, Theodore will tell you were I am.”
“Okay.” Eveline was lost for words, no more could be added to the conversation, she knew by now that Theodore would be looking for her.
“I must bring you back now,” announced Galean standing back and waiting for Eveline to move. Eveline stood unable to act, this would be the last time they would be alone together, and he was leaving for good. A shudder of sharp pain crippled her body as she stood. “Eveline are you alright?” Galean asked concerned.
“I’m fine,” she replied quietly, the pain getting stronger and stronger. “Can I ask you to do something?” she uttered shyly, her cheeks turning red.
“Anything,” answered Galean, watching as she clutched her stomach tightly with her hands, concerned that she had caught the cold, concerned that Gabriel’s prophecy had come true.
“Kiss me,” she whispered, “please.” As if on cue, Galean gently took Eveline into his arms and kissed her tenderly, wrapping his arms about her tiny frame and holding her close to him. Eveline fought the pain that sored through every part of her as she wrapped herself about Galean’s large frame, clinging to him as though he was the air that she needed in order to breathe, in order to survive. This kiss was so very different from the kisses she had shared with Theodore, it was passionate and all consuming, rough yet gentle in its meaning. Pain and fire mixed within her as she kissed Galean fervently. Time passed as the couple clung to one another, covered in snow and unaware of the world around them. In that one kiss they felt as though that had been joined, as though they had been made whole, their hearts beating as one. As the kiss drew to an unwanted end, Galean and Eveline withdrew their heads, keeping their arms about one another. Eveline smiled, wonder filling her deeply.
“Eveline, your eyes,” whispered Galean now releasing himself from her and cupping her face roughly.
“What’s wrong?” cried Eveline, coughing heavily.
“Your eyes are black!” Galean replied loudly. Eveline brought her hands to her face, covering herself. Eveline coughed painfully, her body bending violently. As she coughed roughly, black blood poured from her mouth heavily, showering Galean’s shirt.
“Galean,” she cried, choking, “what’s happening to me?”
“A bite,” Galean pondered wildly, “Eveline were you bitten?” he shouted keeping her upright.
“My dream,” she choked heavily, black blood oozing out of her mouth and covering her throat. Without caution, Galean swept Eveline into his arms fiercely, turning and running as fast as he could to find Theodore.
*
“Estelle?”
Estelle impatiently turned away from her group of friends to face Theodore who was looking at her concerned.
“What is it dear?” she asked anxiously.
“Have you seen Eveline?” he asked quickly, his eyes darting around the heavily crowded room.
“No, are you not meant to be looking after her?” she asked sharply.
“I left her with Galean and they have disappeared,” he replied. Theodore had left Annie with her mother and when he returned to the table Galean and Eveline were missing. Anxious, he had spent the last ten minutes looking through the crowd without any success.
“Have you looked in the other rooms?” Estelle asked stepping away from any prying ears.
“No, I will go immediately,” he answered making to leave. Estelle caught his arm roughly.
“You better find her Theodore, remember we are, for whatever unknown reason, being followed by a group of quite fierce men, if she was to fall into their hands, well, I don’t need to go on…,” she uttered darkly. Theodore was beginning to respond when the crowd began to grasp in horror. Estelle roughly moved away from Theodore and walked towards the gasps and screams, Theodore followed.
“Get a doctor!” someone screamed.
The room suddenly grew quiet and the crowd began to step away from whatever was happening. Theodore followed Estelle, the crowd creating a circle around the couple that stood in the middle.
“Help me!” cried Galean, holding a lifeless Eveline in his arms, on his knees in the middle of the floor, his eyes red with grief. Estelle screamed into her hand as she looked at her granddaughter, covered with black blood and lifeless. Theodore rushed to Eveline’s side, roughly taking her from Galean and cradling her to him harshly.
“Gabriel was right,” he cried looking to Galean for help.
“I told you! You should have listened to Gabriel, but you put your own pride before her safety!” Galean yelled violently, covered in blood, his eyes dangerous. Theodore got up from the floor, Eveline in his arms and turned, making for the entrance.
“We have to get her to Westminster, now!” he ordered. Estelle ran after Theodore dramatically stopping him at the door.
“Put her down!” she bellowed, “she needs a doctor, you are not taking her to London you oaf!”
“Get out of my way Estelle, she needs to go now!” cried Theodore. Galean pushed past Estelle.
“Trust us,” he begged, “she needs to go to London now.”
“Why? She is dying you idiots, why London, she won’t survive!” cried Estelle trying to touch her granddaughter. Galean turned to Estelle harshly, grabbing her shoulders with his hands.
“Trust me!” he commanded, “we have no time, you must get back to Belle, you will find Peter, Bram and Ada there, they will explain everything,” urged Galean, turning and following Theodore out of the assembly. Estelle ran after them, but stopped at the entrance, they were nowhere to be seen, they had gone, vanished. Estelle stood rooted to the spot, heavy tears falling down her face, what was happening? Dazed and bereft she hardly recognised her neighbour as he came to her side suddenly.
“Come,” he motioned, “I must get you back to your home.”
“They have taken my grandchild,” cried Estelle.
“Time is of the essence, we must go,” ordered Harold.
Chapter X
Taken
The house lay lifeless the residents within asleep. Peter, Bram and Ada sat downstairs in the evening room watching the dying embers dance about in the fire.
“It’s a beautiful house,” Peter sighed closing his eyes as he fell back against the settee tired. The three friends had been on day and night duty for two weeks without any rest, tonight the lack of sleep had hit them hard. Ada and Bram were finishing a cup of tea, their eyes fighting to stay open.
“Hmm, I’ve been to grander houses, but this house it is warm,” Bram answered looking down into his cup and finding it empty.
“I shouldn’t be saying this, but I am exhausted, I think I might close my eyes for a while, I think we are safe enough huh?” Ada yawned crossing his legs in front of him on a stool.
“Yeah Galean said he would be returning shortly anyway, I don’t see any harm in an hours sleep,” Peter agreed, leaning his head into the corner of the settee and letting the comfort of sleep steal him away from time.
“True,” muttered Bram following Peter in
to a deep sleep.
“Galean will kill us for sleeping but I can’t keep my eyes open any longer, even angels have to rest,” observed Ada who sat on the leather arm chair gazing into the fire. It took Ada several minutes to fall asleep, he had to remind himself that the house was safe and that Galean would be returning very soon, no shadow would try to take on three angels.
Mary woke from her sleep, sitting upright and quiet. Her large bedroom was still and dark as she slipped out of the bed silently and obeyed the voice in her head. Mary was not herself, had not felt herself for some time, things were becoming strange, the voice wanted her to kill and she felt as though that voice had command over her every moment, she felt imprisoned within a very small cage, tucked away deep within her psyche, crying out for help, her cries becoming nothing but mute darkness within her mind. Mary was possessed, a dangerous being was controlling her thoughts, emotions and actions. For days she sat in her room planning tonight’s events, she had to control the urge to kill Eveline, she wanted to kill her. Anger, paranoia and impatience drove her over the edge, the being within her was readying itself for the ultimate kill. Mary did not eat and when she slept it was only to dream about what it was she would do tonight, it made her feel beautiful it made her feel powerful. The demon that possessed her, shut her away.
As Mary quietly tip toed downstairs, she heard a knock and smiled, they were here. Making sure that nobody had heard the knock she went and opened the door.
“Master,” she bowed to Lagmar, who stood before her, tall and deadly, his snake like eyes bright with excitement.
“Narathan, you have done well,” Lagmar praised as he stepped into the house, passing Mary who was still bowing. Belem followed Lagmar, smiling at Mary whilst licking his lips with his tongue. “Belem get the child, Narathan and I will deal with the angels,” ordered Lagmar directing Belem with his finger. With excitement Belem stormed up the stairs making for Belle’s room.
“Follow me master, they are in the evening room,” announced Mary guiding the demon to the evening room. Peter, Bram and Ada were deep in slumber when Lagmar entered followed by Mary, dressed in only a thin nightdress, her feet bare and her dark hair wild. The fire instantly died and the room darkened becoming cold and rigid. Lagmar walked towards the angels who were stirring from their slumber.
“Good evening,” Lagmar announced standing before the three angels who now leaped to their feet, disorientated and ill balanced.
“What are you doing here!” ordered Peter standing forward and taking out his sword. Bram looked at Mary in confusion.
“Mary?” he asked flatly, “what are you doing?”
“You know the more I meet angels the more concerned I become for them, I mean how is it that after all these years of fighting and killing you still don’t understand just how powerful we really are,” spat Lagmar.
“Oh we realise how powerful you are Lagmar, it is you who does not realise our strengths,” retorted Ada his sword unleased and ready to kill.
“Ah but have you mastered the art of coming back to life?” teased Lagmar darkly, “your petty swords have no power over me anymore, or my master.”
“It is a shame that it is only you and your master that can master the art of revival, have you not heard Lagmar, my King cannot die by any sword or devilry that you possess,” spat Peter, his blue eyes vivid with hatred.
“Perhaps not, angel, but soon, very soon not even your God will be able to conquer my King,” laughed Lagmar, “silly humans think that God is master of all, undying, all powerful and without weakness, but my how far from the truth they are.”
“He is all powerful and undying, only those who bare his blood have the power to kill Heiden.” Cried Ada, anger seizing him. Bram watched Mary hovering behind Lagmar, she was not herself, she was he guessed possessed, but by who?
“This is a sad day for you, truly I hate to kill good sport but needs must,” shrugged Lagmar taking out a sword unalike those of other demons, it was long, thin and inscribed with something that was not of their language. Peter felt fear grip him suddenly realising that Belle was upstairs alone. Upon seeing his fear Bram turned and made for the exit before being grabbed by Mary and swung high up into the air.
“Many days I have spent thinking of how to kill you,” laughed Mary her incredible strength only getting stronger. Bram’s neck cracked as he struggled to break free from her grip, his veins burnt with need of oxygen, his lungs crying for air.
“Bram,” cried Ada running over and piercing Mary with his sword. Mary’s mouth opened wide causing Ada to step back, raising his arm to shield his face. A dark mass of flies soared out of Mary’s mouth and covered Ada’s body causing him to scream in pain. Bram kicked his legs wildly trying to knock Mary over, trying to keep himself alive.
“Kill him!” ordered Lagmar who was now fighting Peter. Mary brought Bram’s head down to her own, her eyes black and full of horror. Bram cried out loud for help, his eyes gazing down at the now lifeless body of Ada, dead, flies eating away at him. Quickly Mary cracked Bram’s neck killing him instantly before flinging him down on top of Ada, the flies covering him.
“No!” screamed Peter running behind the settee to his dead friends, whose bodies were nearly disintegrated by the flies. Lagmar followed the angel who turned and punched him squarely in the face, breaking his hand and falling to the ground in pain. This wasn’t normal thought Peter, it wasn’t normal for a demon to be this strong, his own gifts and strengths were nothing in comparison to Lagmar’s. His hand broken and his arm twisted from the sheer force, Peter crawled to his friends, his sword scrapping against the floor. As Mary watched on, Belem entered the room with a lifeless Belle in his arms. Peter looked up at Belle and fought the pain to get up.
“Leave her alone!” he cried, stumbling across the room trying to grab her with his hands. Lagmar strode up behind Peter and took him by the neck, forcing him backwards.
“You remember Belem?” he laughed a high pitched laugh that filled the room and caused Peter to tremble. “He is known to be a great admirer of children.”
“Leave her alone,” choked Peter trying to stab Lagmar with his sword but failing, his body broken as Lagmar forced it backwards. Lagmar threw Peter to the ground, smashing his face violently, blood splurging everywhere. Mary danced about in a cloud of ecstasy, clapping her hands and screaming with delight. Lagmar put one foot onto Peter’s back and bent down grabbing a handful of his hair and forcing his bloody head back. Peter tried to breath, tried to find courage and strength within, he had never been broken by a demon before, he was one of the strongest angels in the legion, and here he was, broken and near death. A tear fell from his eye as he watched Belem lick Belle’s innocent and lifeless face.
“Please,” he begged pathetically. Belem bent his head down touching Belle’s forehead, turning his eyes he smiled at Peter. Peter watched as Belle’s arm fell down, her small hand lifeless. Lagmar produced his sword and stabbed Peter in the back, the pointed tip slicing through his heart and protruding from his chest. Peter’s vision blurred as he fell over, gasping for air. Falling onto the ground beside his friends, he took one last look at Belle, who was now being taken away by Belem. Lagmar turned around from the door and simply stared at Peter, his face blank, his sword white with angelic blood.
*
Harold opened Estelle’s door for her and looked up at the house, something wasn’t right, the front door was wide open. Estelle stepped out, her face motionless and pale.
“The door, it’s opened,” Harold whispered, taking her hand and placing it on his arm, bringing her up the steps carefully. When Estelle and Harold entered the house, they paused.
“What’s that smell?” moaned Estelle, her eyes observing the darkened reception hall before falling onto the door of the evening room.
“I don’t know,” whispered Harold darkly taking off his hat and setting it aside, “stay here, I will look around.” Estelle stood quietly in the hallway as Harold entered the evening room, di
sappearing into darkness.
“Estelle!” came a high pitched voice. Estelle lifted her eyes to the top of the stairs and found herself staring at Mary.
“Mary?” Estelle watched as Mary descended the steps quietly, her hair hanging loosely about her, her eyes wide and dazed. Estelle stepped back slowly as Mary walked over towards her. Just as Mary stopped Harold ran out to her, gasping deeply.
“Estelle run,” He cried, stopping before Mary.
“What is it?” Estelle asked anxiously, her eyes on Mary.
“There are three dead men in the evening room, someone has murdered them,” breathed Harold, his chest aching.
“What do you mean dead?” Estelle looked at Harold, whose face was now beginning to turn pale. Richard tried to speak, he held a hand to his throat gasping for air. Mary smiled at Estelle, as Harold fell to the ground heaving. “Harold!” cried Estelle running to him, kneeling down and lifting his face with her trembling hands. Harold began to vomit violently, his eyes bulging.
“There’s no use in trying to save him,” laughed Mary, now standing behind Estelle with a dagger in her right hand.
“Why!” Estelle cried, cradling a dying Harold.
“Don’t worry you’ll be with him soon,” teased Mary raising her arm, the dagger standing ready in the air.
“Were is Belle!” demanded Estelle turning to look at Mary who now swung the dagger down into Estelle’s chest. Estelle fell backwards, Harold in her arms, her eyes stunned and her dress soaked in warm, flowing blood. Estelle coughed harshly trying to regain strength, but felt a dense coldness spread through her limbs. Mary tore the dagger from Estelle’s chest standing backwards, her hand and arm covered in blood, the dagger at her side dripping. Harold’s bulging eyes looked over at Estelle, who lay breathing roughly. Weakly he found her hand and held it as tightly as he could, keeping his eyes on her. Estelle tried to smile at Harold as images of Eveline filled her mind. Mary stood back and watched as the elderly couple slipped into darkness, surrounded by a dark puddle of blood.
One Crown & Two Thrones: The Guardians Page 23