by Anna, Vivi
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked.
“Just my pride.” She rubbed her fingers against the brocade of her jacket to avoid his gaze. “I’m sorry I couldn’t scry for you. I know this is why you called for me.”
“That’s not the only reason, Skylar. Surely you must know that.” He reached across the seat and covered her hands with his.
Surprised, she looked down at their joined hands but did not pull away. Not this time. It felt too good to have his touch, to feel the warmth of his skin against her own.
“Jovan, I…” But the carriage lurched sideways, cutting off the rest of her words.
Then Rhys was yelling and banging against the roof. “We’re being followed. Hang on!”
They lurched to the other side, causing Skylar to bump into Jovan, nearly knocking her head against his. Once righted again, she stuck her head out the side window to see what was going on.
There was indeed another steam carriage close behind them, two men sitting up top. One of them, a necromancer by the looks of his tattooed face and neck, was forming a ball of fire between his hands.
“Rhys!” she yelled. “We’re going to have a big problem in a moment.”
Up top, Rhys turned in his seat. His eyes widened. “Hang on to something!” He cranked the steering mechanism to the right.
Jovan pulled her back in just as they skidded around the street corner, in the process nearly taking out a gas lamp and an elderly couple out for a stroll. The poor couple likely thought they were under attack by enemy forces.
Skylar glanced out the window again just as the fireball exploded on the cobbled road where they would have been if Rhys hadn’t maneuvered the carriage the way he did.
“That was close,” she said.
“We need to disable the other car {thent siriage.”
Skylar reached for her satchel. She hoped the mirror had not been broken. She opened up the bag and took out the six-inch long, narrow tube of bamboo she’d had fastened inside.
“I may not be able to take out that carriage, but disabling the driver might suffice.”
Jovan’s eyes widened. “A blowpipe? What are you going to use as darts?”
Reaching up to her hat, she plucked out one of the decorative feathers. She ran her fingers down the shaft to the point. “You’ll see.”
She took out a small vial of a clear liquid, uncorked it and dipped the tip of the quill in.
“Poison?”
“Curare. Tranquilizer made from Chondrodendron tomentosum plant from Peru.” She plucked a few more feathers and did the same, then put them back on her hat for safekeeping, careful not to touch the tips.
Jovan grinned at her. “You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”
She smiled back, his compliment filling her with an unexpected joy. “Of course I am. I am a Druid tracker, for the sun’s sake.” And with that she leaned out the small carriage window. “Hold my legs, will you?”
He grabbed her as she perched precariously on the edge of the windowsill. With her right hand, she gripped the iron railing on top of the carriage. The other hand clenched the blowdart. Every bump sent a pang of pain over her derriere. She suspected she’d be bruised by morning.
“Hold me tighter, Jovan!”
“I’m trying.” He grasped her more tightly around the waist and pinned her legs under one arm.
Rhys glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes wide. “Good Lord, Skylar. What are you doing?”
“Saving our arses.”
“You’re going to fall,” he said.
“Slow down, Rhys.”
“Are you mad?”
“Possibly.”
But he did as she asked.
Releasing her hand on the rail, she plucked one of the treated feather darts from her hat and set it in the bamboo shoot. She put the gun to her mouth and steadied her arm, setting it a little high for the wind velocity and the distance of the pursuing carriage. Taking a deep breath in, she then let it out as forcefully as she could.
The dart shot out fast, breaching the distance between the two vehicles. Skylar clenched the blowpipe, hoping for a direct hit. But she didn’t get it. The feather soared past the sorcerer’s head, just brushing his ear and bouncing off the roof of the carriage.
The sorcerer gave her a grin that made her blood ice over. He then slapped his palms together and she could see the beginning glow of fire between them. And she was a prime target hanging out of the carriage the way she was. She’d have to be quick if she didn’t want to be charred and singed like a roasted leg of lamb.
She plucked out another feather and settled it inside the tube. Before she could lift it to her lips, the carriage wheel hit a stone on the road. The impact sent her reeling back, and Jovan’s grip loosened. Good thing because the fireball the necromancer had loosed struck the carriage where she’d been only moments before.
“Skylar!” Jovan shouted as he scrambled for h {ramhe rail,er through the tiny window.
The ground was quickly coming up and she struggled to break her fall on something, anything. But she only had one hand to work with; she didn’t dare risk dropping the blowpipe.
After what seemed like an eternity of falling but what was likely mere seconds, Jovan had her by the bodice of her ruffled shirt. It was not the most becoming of situations, but at least she wasn’t a casualty on the road.
“Keep me still, Jovan,” she said, hanging upside down.
Thankfully she hadn’t lost the dart, and she put the pipe to her lips and blew. This time she hit her mark. The dart lodged in the sorcerer’s throat. His eyes bulged and he dropped the newly formed ball of fire. It bounced on the driver’s leg and set his trousers on fire.
Skylar breathed a sigh of relief when the carriage careened off the road and struck a lamppost. The impact sent it tilting to the side and finally it lumbered over, the driver pinned beneath it. The unconscious sorcerer had been thrown off and lay motionless on the sidewalk.
“Pull me in.”
She scissored her legs to help her shimmy back into the carriage. Jovan pulled at her top until he could get a solid grip on her and help her back through the window.
Once she was safely inside, Jovan hugged her close, nuzzling his face into her hair just above her ear. A gesture he’d done so many times before when they were courting.
“I thought I lost you,” he murmured against her skin.
His heart raced. She could feel it thumping against her chest. The heat of his body enveloped her. It felt too good to be in his arms again, to smell the familiar earthy blend of him in her nose. It would be too easy, too simple, to surrender to it. Especially now, with her emotions muddled, and the fear of her death still lingering inside.
But they were not courting, and the pain of Jovan’s abandonment still haunted her like the lingering remnants of a bad dream.
She pulled out of his embrace and straightened her blouse. “It will take more than that to lose me, I assure you.”
“Yes, well, let’s not tempt fate ever again.” He knocked on the ceiling of the carriage. “On to Whitechapel, Rhys.”
Chapter Twelve
The overturned carriage and the unconscious sorcerer on the sidewalk drew quite the crowd of gawkers. There were two constables present trying to restore order but to Darin it appeared they were doing a poor job of it. Even from across the street he could plainly see that.
He desperately wanted to pinch the driver away from the law and find out what happened. Yet he couldn’t draw attention to himself. The Hawthorne name couldn’t be linked to such doings. His father would murder him, or worse disown him, if Darin were to be implicated in this matter. No, he best watch this situation from afar and hope like hell that both the driver and the sorcerer died before they could say anything about the Hawthornes and the Davenports.
Damn that Jovan and Rhys. They were proving to be more formidable foes then he first thought. It was probably the Druid woman’s knowledge and ability that was aiding the
m. He always suspected that she possessed great power. Power he’d desperately coveted, but she’d shunned him. It was too bad because he didn’t really like to get h ~8~t siis hands dirty, but for Skylar Vanguard he would get them right filthy.
A chill bit at his gloved hands and he rubbed them together. Turning, he walked down the street to where his carriage had been parked. His driver jumped down from the seat and opened the door for him. Darin slid inside, gathering his cloak tighter around his body. The night was starting to get cold, and by the smell in the air it would rain soon.
He would return home for the evening and send out his man to get the information needed from the driver and the sorcerer. Unfortunately, he had to relinquish the chase until he knew more. He didn’t know where the Davenports were headed. They had won this round of the game. For now.
Chapter Thirteen
The road told them when they reached Whitechapel. Its smooth surface gave way to a rough one pitted with blemishes, much like the inhabitants. Rhys parked the carriage in the light from one of the lampposts but Jovan didn’t think it would matter. If thieves wanted to steal it or its parts, it wouldn’t matter if it was parked in front of the bobbies. People were poor here and did what they needed to do to make ends meet.
The three of them gathered on the dirty sidewalk and looked down the darkened lanes.
“Where the hell are we going to find this Caroline?” Rhys asked.
“I should be able to scry now.”
Jovan handed her the satchel.
After the same ritual she performed in the cemetery, Skylar peered intently into the reflective surface. This time she must’ve seen something because she handed the mirror back to Jovan to put away. Then pointed across the street. “This way.”
She led them down three street blocks, then down a seemingly endless dark alley, which of course was impossible since everything had an end. Jovan was acutely aware of their isolation as they crept down the shady lane. If they ran into trouble here there would be no outside help. They would be on their own.
He was about to ask how much farther when Skylar stopped in her tracks and pointed to the stone wall. Except instead of rock there was now a door. A weird one, painted blood red.
She glanced at him. “For someone with so much magical power you look a bit unnerved.”
He didn’t answer but indeed couldn’t shake the sense of dread that had washed over him. Over the years he’d encountered many things, many different types of power, but nothing felt as ominous or as unsettling as whatever was behind that door.
“Are you sure Sebastian came here?” Rhys asked.
“That’s what Evangeline said,” Skylar answered. “So we must go in.”
She was about to wrap her hand around the door handle and push it open when Jovan put a hand on her arm and stopped her. “I’ll go in first.”
She didn’t argue, just stepped to the side to give him access. He opened the door and went in.
The small entrance was gloomy, dimly lit by a candelabra mounted on the wall. The candlelight flickered eerily over the red-painted walls. Jovan could barely make out the stairs in front of him. But it was obviously the only place they could go so they went down. Skylar and Rhys crowded in after him. He could feel her nearly pressed up against him. He wondered what she’d do if he turned suddenly and t rea they couembraced her tight. He had the urge to do just that. This place was bad. He could sense it all the way down to his toes.
He glanced over his shoulder at Skylar. “Stay close. I don’t like the feel of this place.”
“Nor do I. It feels wrong, as if it has no business existing at all.”
With Jovan in the lead they descended the stairs slowly, cautiously. He procured a lit candle from the candelabra and held it out in front of him. Despite the flicking light, he still couldn’t see much ahead. It was as if the very shadows feasted on the meager glow. Gobbling it up before it could illuminate any danger.
After an unnatural amount of steps, they made it to the bottom. Now they faced what appeared to be a tunnel dug out from the earth itself. A hollowed-out tube leading into the belly of the beast.
A shiver rushed down Jovan’s spine as he led them through. The walls were damp and stunk of mold and dead things. It reminded him of the cemetery. Except this time they were deep underground. After a short time the tunnel opened up into a vast space. A cavern perhaps by the earthen smell.
And that was when he saw a woman standing in the middle of it, eyes trained on him as if she’d been waiting for him this whole time.
“Good evening,” she said, her voice deep but musical.
“Are you Caroline?” Jovan asked.
“I am.” With a wave of her hand, candles lit one by one around the room.
The light grew in size, and as it did Jovan took the time to survey their hostess. Her skin shone like polished mahogany in the candlelight. Her lips were even darker, probably stained by ink as a mark. Her long dark hair was in tight thin braids, bells and bones weaved inside. She wore a simple shift of deep rich red that clung to her generous curves. She wore no shoes and dug her toes into the soft earth beneath her. There was something alluring about her. Jovan felt a slight tug at his loins. But he didn’t know if it was just the look of her or the power that radiated around her. It was so strong it was almost visible like an aura.
“We’re here to…”
She put up her hand to stop his words, her bracelet of bones clacking together. “I know why you have come. I have seen it.” She gestured to the ground, where animal bones lay scattered at her feet. They were arranged in a strange pattern. “There will be a price for my services.”
Skylar stepped forward. “You don’t know what we ask.”
“You seek the one called Sebastian and the item he came looking for.”
Jovan glanced at Skylar then Rhys. It appeared they had come to the right place, however uncomfortable it made them feel. He could see the unease in both their faces.
“Give us information first,” Skylar said.
Caroline smiled and it was as if the whole room shrunk. “That is not how this works, Druid lady. You must agree to the price before I tell you anything.”
Skylar flexed her fingers and took another step forward.
“Be cautious,” Caroline said, “Your Druid powers will not work down here, so far away from the trees and the sun.” She flung her arms out to the side dramatically. “You are in my world now.”
From the shadows lurched twin giants of men dressed in filthy rags and smelling like death. Every step they took appeared cookrld nowumbersome because of the gimp leg that dragged behind each of them. But it was their heads that made them monstrous. Their faces were an amalgamation of scars crisscrossing over their noses and left eyes like the tracks of a locomotive.
They stood beside their mistress, one on each side, the threat implied. No one needed to speak out loud the true purpose of their appearance.
Rhys moved in next to Jovan and gripped his arm tightly. “Let’s go. We’ll find another way to find our brother.”
“There’s no time, Rhys. The Solstice comes soon.”
He nodded and dropped his hand. “But what if the price is too high to pay?”
“Then we’ll deal with it.” Jovan turned back to Caroline. “What is your price?”
“Three gills of sorcerer blood.”
“Ridiculous,” Skylar said.
“Done,” Jovan said.
Both Skylar and Rhys reeled on him.
“Three gills is almost a pint, Jovan. That’s too much,” Rhys said.
“Are you out of your mind?” Skylar poked him in the chest. “You know how powerful your blood is. You don’t even know what she’s going to do with it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he retorted. “And I don’t care. She can have it if it helps us find Sebastian in time.”
Skylar shook her head. “You’re a damn fool.”
“So I’ve been told repeatedly.” He took a step toward Caroline
. “Now tell us about Sebastian and why he came to see you.
“He came looking for something.” Her fingers played around the beaded necklaces she wore. “A key.”
“What kind of key?” Rhys demanded.
“A special one. That unlocks the door to oblivion.”
“Stop with the riddles,” Skylar said, “and tell us in plain language about this key and why it’s special.”
“Very well, Druid.” Caroline nodded to Skylar. “The key opens a doorway to time. Sebastian came for it so he could go into the past.”
It was just as Evangeline had said in the cemetery. Sebastian was looking to go back, likely so he could stop her from dying. Guilt was powerful. It could make a person do just about anything.
“Did you give him this key?” Jovan asked.
“Yes.”
“And where was this door supposed to be?”
“At the circle of standing stones.”
Faster than he could track, Skylar unloosed Rhys’s sword and pressed it to Caroline’s swanlike neck. The two bodyguards just grunted and had yet to move to defend their mistress.
“I said enough riddles,” Skylar seethed. “I may not have my powers, but I can still slit your throat easy enough.”
“Skylar!”
“I’m sorry, Jovan, but this place is making me a bit irritable and I’m tired of being down here. I miss the fresh air.”
Caroline chuckled, the movement forcing the blade to nick her skin, but she didn’t seem to care. “Your woman is quite fierce.”
“I’m not his woman.”
“Of course you are. You have been and always will be.”
This seemed to make Skylar angrier and she pressed the steel even harder. Beads of blood pooled on Caroline’s skin.
“Put the blade away, Skylar. Please.”
His pleas did nothing to stay her hand.
“The standing stones are at Stonehenge. That is where Sebastian took the key.”