by P. S. Power
It was a strange thing to be thinking, but apparently it didn't matter since she kept giving directions and the man next to her made the correct turns, even as she had almost no clue what she was doing. Her right hand was tightening on the crin as they moved along at no better than thirty miles per hour. Finally they ended up at a very large estate, set back from the street and guarded by a black iron gate and a high, very well built, gray stone wall. No one came to let them in either, pretending not to be home or something, which made sense if you didn't want the cops to show up and bust you as you hurt little girls. Gwen looked at the place and nodded, since there was almost no way that a nobleman didn't live here.
"Crap." It was almost scandalous language, coming from a woman in this place, which made it much worse, coming from Bethany. The Westmorland was standing in front of the gate, looking defeated. "This is Count Kavas' home. We can't go in without a direct order from the King. That... Probably won't come Gwen. I'm sorry..." There were tears, and Agent Barley looked close to that state himself, which was shocking. Men didn't cry here as far as she knew. Then, he wasn't, the man was just tearing up a bit.
It was Jeffery that fixed the situation for them, his head going up rather primly. He wasn't a tough looking man, like her driver back home, James, was, or even someone that had a deadly air about him. He actually looked a little prissy, like a doctor or healer, once she got a good look at him, in his fancy black coat and tall, strange looking hat and leather gloves.
"There are two lives at stake, you said, ma'am?" He sounded very proper as he spoke, and looked directly at Gwen. "Lives are a precious thing, a good thing to focus on right now, saving them should come first, don't you think?" There was an almost hypnotic quality to the words, even though they didn't make her feel any better.
"Yeah. I... We don't know for certain that the girls are in there. I can't prove it, but... I think so. I'm not trained for this. It's just what I feel."
He nodded and started to remove his hat, then his jacket, leaving the gloves on his hands.
"I see. Well, it is, of course, illegal, to go into the premises of a nobleman without proper allowance. Unless, of course, you're following a criminal, who is seeking to perhaps do theft or harm? One would have to protect the Count and his people then, wouldn't they?"
Bethany went wide eyed, and then nodded.
"That's... True."
Jeffrey looked at them and then, without another word, ran at the front gate, using the metal as a foot hold to allow him purchase to rather quickly scale the thing, then, dropping and rolling on the other side, he ran toward the building. Prissy looking or not, Gwen didn't think she could do the same thing.
"Look!" She pointed at the man, who had on a rather flowing white shirt. "A criminal!"
Then she pointed the crin at the lock on the front gate, and made the metal explode.
Chapter three
The next few minutes had that slow-fast feeling of combat situations everywhere. They ran, but the world felt silent, missing a musical score like a movie would have had. She missed it. That kind of thing really made things more impactful. At the same time Gwen could feel where she needed to go, which wasn't in the direction then Jeffrey, their new "criminal" friend had gone at all. She headed toward the large outbuilding alone, suddenly feeling pressed into action, as if she couldn't help it at all. The buildings all seemed to be a blur as she struggled to follow her intuition. She knew where to go though. There was simply no doubt.
It was off to the right and had the look of a guest house, but a large thing that would have been a mansion to a lot of people, if it wasn't sitting right next to a place that was easily ten times larger. The door was locked when she got into place, and was way too sturdy to just kick open. She tried anyway, which sent an aching shiver through her right leg and left both the bottom of her foot and her lower back in pain. There was no time for that kind of thing however, so she stood back and fired again, not knowing if it would be enough on the door. The gate had gone with one blast, the green light from the crin taking the metal apart easily. This door was tougher in some way. It took everything she had to get it open, leaving her with a copper pipe as a weapon. Normally she would have run in anyway, not wanting to risk even the minute recharging would take, but this time she stopped and did the work first. It was almost prudent of her, a thing that showed intelligence. Except for the fact that she was exposed and standing in the doorway, which she didn't realize until after she was already running in to the slightly darkened space.
Her head nearly buzzed and she heard a voice, talking to her, but she couldn't quite make it out. It sounded like a man, a bit like the driver actually, but he was nowhere near her.
They hadn't encountered a guard force yet, which could mean anything, including that they'd be right outside the door of wherever the Count was doing... Whatever he had planned for the little girls.
Gwen didn't really know what to expect, to tell the truth, she kind of expected to find the men dressed in robes, with knives, getting ready to stab the little girls in the heart. Or, just possibly, they might be getting ready to eat them.
What she found was... Different than that.
It was a grown man resting on a little crying girl in the sitting room, pumping into her, both naked. The other girl was tied up and gagged, and two stern looking older men stood by, watching. They were clothed at least and didn't seem openly armed.
Gwen shot each one in the left knee, making good use of her new sighting system, then moved across the space as they fell and kicked the naked man in the head as hard as she could. Her boot made a satisfying sound, and with only a few more good kicks, crin firmly in hand, she did it again and again, until the guy was both unconscious and off the girl that had been under him. She was about nine or so, at a glance. Blood flowed from her crotch. When she saw that the man got another kick in the head.
Gwen was about to yell for the others to come to her, getting ready to start screaming over the moans of the downed men that were clutching their legs, which were pretty much both gone at the point she'd hit, but nicely cauterized as well, so they didn't bleed much at all. As the first words came out of her mouth, an angry sound, Agent Barley spoke from behind her.
"We need to call this in and seek aid for these men. This must have been done by the criminal we were chasing. How strange that he'd break in just as the Count was abusing that young lady." There was a coldness to the words that made him sound nearly insane. It was nice to hear, after a fashion.
Bethany was standing behind her, slightly hyperventilating. At first Gwen didn't understand it, until she spoke, her voice low.
"A Count..." It wasn't about his having been raping the girl, who had managed to get up and was across the room, fighting to put some clothing on. It was about what Gwen had done. That was so clear it almost poured off of her. Some kind of Westmorland conditioning no doubt.
Barley moved out of the room, either looking for others or a telestator, possibly both. It was a good plan, but the crying from the little girl was starting to get to her.
"Beth, can you see to the girls?" Gwen... didn't really know what to do. She wasn't trained for any of this and comforting people was hard for her still. Even her friend, clearly fighting something inside, was better able to handle the whole mess. In a lot of ways she was less broken than Gwen was.
The Count started to come around about two minutes later, since she hadn't beaten him into brain damage yet, just taking him out for a few minutes. It was kind of tempting to shoot him then, since it would be safe, what with him not being directly on top of the little girl anymore. It was that or get sick.
Even being with the corpse of the boy in a pile of manure and rot hadn't done that to her. It had been close, sure, but she'd held it in. Now she spewed all over the corner of the room and couldn't stop herself. She had to struggle to point the crin at the man that was trying to climb to his feet, still unclothed.
Bethany had moved to the little girl that was bound
and gotten her free first and they were both trying to help the other one dress, just as Agent Barley came back.
"We have help coming. Con-sev. I didn't think it was the right move to get the Westmorlands in on this one." Then he walked across the room and started beating the Count, almost as if the girl had been his own daughter. It wasn't artfully done, but it did take the man down to his knees again.
"You! Lie down on the floor and don't move, or so help me, I'll thrash you until I can't any longer!" The words were crisp and had an accent that was almost British to Gwen's ear, but wasn't really. She had to like the sentiment however. They could take turns with the task.
They had to wait for a long time before anyone came, and Jeffery, the driver, was nowhere to be found, until the others came in, each holding a crin and wearing suits that didn't match, but gave a nice nineteen twenties gangster air to the whole thing. The driver had led them in, but was unarmed.
"They seemed to follow the criminal this way..." He called back to them as they found the room.
Gwen figured out what was going on then. Jeffery, their "criminal", was covering for the fact that he'd gone over the wall himself first. That probably meant he could get in real trouble for it, even with what they'd found. That was something that she'd heard hinted at a few times already. A nobleman could get away with nearly anything at times. Probably even raping young girls and killing little boys for the crime of trying to stop it from being done.
Beth got the girls out of the room at least and didn't say anything, looking absolutely freaked. Worse than Gwen even. The problem with that had to do with the fact that Count Kavas had to be questioned, and that meant a telepath. Except it wasn't going to be happening any time soon. Everyone else in the room seemed to know that, even without thinking about it. Westmorlands didn't easily go against noblemen, they really couldn't. She didn't mention it however, since Barley picked up a heavy stone statue that sat on a nearby table and smashed one of the injured men right at the point of injury. It wasn't elegant, but got a nice scream.
Gwen moved in and pointed the crin at the downed man.
"Tell us everything, and do it now, or things will become a good bit more uncomfortable for you."
On the good side it wasn't some protracted torture scene and they didn't even have to threaten the man, who easily gave up his boss. He was sworn to the man, but since it was all out now and he knew that his life was forfeit, the gray haired man spoke freely.
"The Lord Count has been having us take girls for him for years, over a decade. About one a month. We'd keep them in the basement for his use, until he ruined them, then we had to get rid of the bodies. There's a graveyard in the back. My position forced me to do as he said, you all understand that? I'm happy that this is over now. I'll stand to your sword, if that's all the same to you."
That meant nothing to Gwen, but the other injured man sighed, which had more than a hint of muffled pain to it.
"I would too, if it's permitted. Look for the bodies between the two large oaks out back. It won't be hard to find them, though you'll have to go deep. Lord Kavas certainly knew that he was in the wrong enough to see to a nice deep grave each time. Then, the digging wasn't his to do, so perhaps it was just him being polite?"
Agent Barley shuddered a little bit, and looked at the men as if he were sad for some reason. At first it seemed to simply be about the girls, but then he explained it, looking right at the men, all except the Count, making solid eye contact.
"We're... Con-sev. We aren't killers. I don't know that anyone here can help you." Then, almost as if he realized that Gwen was there he blanched a little. "I... They asked to be put down, to avoid the shame of what they were ordered to do. Normally, well, it's honorable, since they helped with the crimes. They didn't have a choice if ordered to it, but that doesn't excuse the actions. But I can't..."
Gwen stared at him for a long time, until the man looked down in shame. The others in the room looked away, even though it was pretty clear that they were supposed to step up and help their fellow, even if he was technically in charge of the scene. Jeffery stared at her, making her head tickle a bit again for some reason.
What they needed was Groundling, her old friend and shipmate from the Peregrine. If he'd been there, the men would already be dead. They didn't have him there however, did they? She looked at each of the men and then stared at the Count, who was glaring at Barley as if he didn't realize that Gwen had been the one that knocked him out first.
"Alright, what about Kavas? Does he walk away from this or... What's normally done in a case like this? Is there a plan at all?"
It was, oddly, the first man that had spoken that knew what to do, not any of the Con-sev men, who just stood around looking ashamed.
"In a case like this, with an evil noble, once caught... normally he'd be killed and put to the flame. Set this place on fire and burn the wrong out of him. If no one can act however..."
Rather bravely, the man tried to get up. Whether to fight or to do the deed himself, she couldn't tell, but the others made no move to stop him. The injury did though, the man not able to do more than crawl weakly. After a few minutes of this he gasped.
"Sorry, I can't..."
Gwen sighed and pointed the crin at his head, "it's alright. I think I see the plan now. Please clear the room." To her surprise the men didn't move, not until the Count spoke, his face grim.
"You heard the woman. Leave. Go!" He sat up, still nude, but holding a bit of dignity to his battered form. "And bring me a candle, lit, before you go."
It was an order, one that was clear and direct, which meant, criminal or not, the Con-sev men listened to the Count.
It took about ten minutes to set up and a nice big pot of lamp oil was brought in too, for some reason. Gwen got it, but it would be hard to explain why the place had been doused in the liquid later. Of course that wasn't her job, was it? After that, the others left, and the Count tried to stand, which got Gwen to point the crin and shake her head a few times, forcing a smile.
"I don't think so. Sit there. You know that you have to die, don't you? Do you know why?" She didn't understand why she was bothering to speak on the topic, but the man nodded.
"I do. I've killed... scores of young girls, after doing most beastly things to them. If I'm not stopped I'll do it again. If you don't stop me here, no one else can. It's not how I would have ended, if given a choice, but... Well, I was born wrong. I don't feel bad about it, even now, isn't that odd?" He sounded nearly peaceful and conversational, even as the other men, equal to his age, looked frightened suddenly.
There was time to shrug and say a single line, "no, it really isn't odd at all. You're right though, you were born that way, and you can't help it. You have too much power to be stopped by the people here, so I'll help you out."
Then she put the little red dot between his eyes and squeezed the soft round place on the pipe in her hands, making it fire. It didn't destroy the head totally, but she couldn't recognize the man after that either. Without speaking she turned, her throat suddenly dry and aimed at the first man, who closed his eyes.
"I thank you for the kindness."
He died a second later and the final man merely nodded at her, "you're doing the right thing. This is a job for a man, but I can't blame those others, it's a hard thing, to kill, or even watch it being done. This is the part of honor however. Aim true and live well after, for you act for me in this."
It was a strange thing to do, absolving the person killing you, but it did leave her feeling a bit better about the whole thing afterword, somehow. She thought about it for a minute as she splashed the container of oil around the room. It was dyed a faint red color and was probably decorative in nature, she understood. They didn't really need it after all. She used the candle to make sure the place was really on fire before exiting the place, and when she did she didn't bother faking panic.
No one here would be fooled by what had happened.
She still lied about it, so tha
t no one would get in trouble. First she walked over to Bethany, who was with the little girls and looked ready to cry herself. There would be some of that, no doubt.
"The Count, he used my crin to kill the others and himself, after setting the room on fire. I took it back, my weapon, since he said I should. He wants everyone to know that he's sorry for the evil that he did. He hopes that this, in some small way, will help the families of the dead girls to heal." It was so clearly a lie that she felt strange saying it, but everyone, including her friend, acted as if it was just the truth. Like the man had that much self possession and honor in him still, even after all he'd done.
Jeffery called to her then, asking her to walk with him. It was a little odd, but the others let her round an ivy covered building so that they could speak.
"I need you to listen to me. Please, this is very important." The words were smooth, but riveting, like he was about to say something vastly important.
Her head positively buzzed then, the blood rushing to it. That, or away. She saw spots for a moment and the man touched her arm.
"It wasn't fair for me to allow this to happen, but I didn't have a choice. Please forgive my failure?"
She blinked three times, her head not exactly clear at all for some reason. Probably from the smoke.
"Um, sure. Thank you. Those girls might have died without your help. They would have."
Then, her head still feeling strange, she walked away, over to Beth, so that they could do whatever it was that came next in this strange place.
It was a dismal thing, but not, as Bethany pointed out later after they were back at Park Street with the Vernors, related to the Debussey case at all.
"Unless he said something before he passed?"