by Tim O'Rourke
“Can’t you fake some tears?” I asked.
“Are you taking the piss?” he shot back.
“Your fiancée has just died,” I hissed. “If my plan is going to work, then you have to be convincing.”
From the other side of the door, I could hear the sound of the others coming down the stairs now. Making a hook with my finger, I silently beckoned him toward me. He came forward. And checking that Sophie’s face was covered with Potter’s jacket, I silently looped my arms about his neck, resting my cheek against his.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered in his ear.
“Sorry, for what?” he whispered.
“This,” I said, driving my knee up into his groin.
He stumbled backwards, both hands between his legs. “What the fuck was that for?” he groaned.
“You’ve got tears in your eyes now,” I grinned back at him, enjoying doing that more than perhaps I should have. “Now, stop acting like a baby and carry Sophie into the woods. The others will think you’re going to bury her in that graveyard beneath the willow trees. But instead, take her to the summerhouse. Stay with her. Don’t leave her for one moment.”
“What about you?” Potter said, hobbling toward Sophie and scooping her up into his arms.
“Leave the rest to me,” I said, heading toward the door. I opened it to find the rest of The Creeping Men gathered in the hallway. They watched as Potter came forward, Sophie draped in his arms, still and lifeless looking. Potter’s eyes still looked bloodshot and watery as he stepped out into the hall carrying her. None of the others spoke as he headed across the hall to the door. I watched them. But all were poker-faced. I couldn’t see anything that would give any one of them away as the killer.
Potter stepped from the manor and I went back into the study. Before I’d had a chance to close the door, Murphy had come forward.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
“No,” I said with a gentle shake of my head. “I’ just need to be alone for a moment or two.”
“Sure,” he said, turning his back and stepping away.
I closed the door behind him so I was alone in the study. I went back to the rug. Gripping the upturned corner, I yanked it back. Dropping to my hands and knees, I brushed my fingertips over the wooden floorboards. With a smile, I found what I suspected I would. One of the floorboards was loose. With my fingernails, I pulled it up to reveal a small hollow beneath the floor. Reaching inside, I closed my fist around what lay hidden beneath the loose floorboard. Replacing the rug, I got up and went to the window. I unfastened the lock. Turning, I crossed the room and left the study, intentionally leaving the door open just a fraction.
Crossing the now deserted hall, I left Hallowed Manor. It was light now, so crouching low, making myself as small as possible, I headed back toward the study window. Climbing over the flowerbed, I stood on tiptoe and pushed up the window. Glancing back just once to make sure I wasn’t being watched, I climbed in through the window and into the study. Concealing myself behind the curtain, I waited.
My wait wasn’t a long one. No more than five minutes could have passed before I heard the sound of the study door creaking open on the other side of the curtain. I held my breath, standing stock still so as not to give my hiding place away. I listened to the sound of footsteps crossing the wooden floorboards. Then came the whoosh of the rug being thrown back, followed by the sound of the floorboard being removed. Hearing this, I yanked back the curtain.
The figure crouched over the hole in the floor looked back at me.
“Looking for this?” I asked.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Doctor Ravenwood looked at the bottle of Lot 12 I was holding in my fist. His eyes grew wide beneath his thick, bushy white eyebrows. I stepped out from behind the curtain. Doctor Ravenwood stood up, his mass of white hair looking like a cloud had formed around his head.
“How did you know?” he asked, pushing his crescent-shaped glasses up onto the bridge of his hooked nose.
“How did I know it was you who poisoned Sophie, or how did I know where you’d hidden the Lot 12?” I asked.
“Both,” he said, not looking sorry for what he had done but defeated at being caught.
“To be honest, I had no idea it was you,” I started to explain. “I knew at once that it was someone at Hallowed Manor who had swapped the Lot 12 with the poison, but I didn’t know it was you until I discovered where it had been hidden.”
“And how did you know where to look?” he asked. “Only I know about that hiding place.”
“And that’s how I knew it was you who had poisoned Sophie,” I explained.
“I’m not sure I understand,” he said, wringing his huge hands together. Ravenwood appeared agitated and nervous. Not only because he had been caught for his crime – there was something else – but I couldn’t see what.
“You might have gotten away with your crime if you hadn’t have tried to break into this room last night,” I said. “You couldn’t come in via the door because I had the only key. You knew that, because you gave it to me. But why come back – why try and break into this room? It didn’t make sense to me. Whoever poisoned Sophie would’ve known that the queets and garlic would’ve killed her by morning. The only reason the killer would’ve risked breaking into this room was if he had come to retrieve something – something they wouldn’t want to be found. You knew that at first light Potter and I were going to undertake a thorough search of the manor in an attempt to find the missing Lot 12. You knew that if it was found in here – in your private study – the finger of blame could’ve only been pointed in your direction. That’s why you came back – that’s why you risked breaking into the room. After swapping the bottles last night, you came back to your study. You lit a candle so as to find the loose floorboard beneath the rug. You couldn’t use the lights as you had already cut the wire,” I said.
“You make it sound as if you were watching me the whole time,” Ravenwood frowned.
I crouched low over the rug, and pointing with my finger, I said, “There are drops of wax here and here. I saw them last night when I was searching for the shells that had fallen from my necklace. I failed to see the relevance of the drops of wax last night as I was too upset that my necklace had been broken. But I now know that the wax dripped from your candle as you searched for the loose floorboard in the near darkness. You were in a rush as you knew Potter would soon be back with me and you needed to be in the dining room with the others. In your rush you failed to replace the rug completely. Potter tripped over it last night, and because I was upset, I failed yet again to see the relevance, just like I failed to see how important the candle on the desk was.”
“The candle on the desk?” he asked. “Why was that important?”
“Because it was already alight when we carried Sophie in here last night,” I said. “Why was there a candle alight in this study when we had all been gathered in the dining room? Perhaps someone had forgotten to blow it out – perhaps they had been in a rush – but if so, why? The clues on their own don’t mean anything, but when put together, they told me everything. After swapping the bottle last night, you rushed into your study. You needed to hide the Lot 12 and you had the perfect hiding place. You would simply return to your study at some point after poisoning Sophie, retrieve the Lot 12, and dispose of it properly. But what you couldn’t have foreseen was that your study would be the place where Sophie would be locked away. I had the key so you had no way of retrieving the evidence that would put a noose about your neck. That’s why you risked breaking in last night and it was that which gave you away. Once I had the idea in my head that the killer came back not to finish off Sophie, but to retrieve something, I knew that whatever it was must be in this room. The only thing that could be so important to risk coming back for would be the evidence that would convict the murderer. So I knew then that the Lot 12 must be hidden in this room, but where? It was then I remembered the drops of wax, the upturned rug. It didn’t t
ake me long to figure out that there must be some kind of hiding place beneath the rug. And like you said, there was only one person who could’ve possibly known about that hiding place, and that was you, Doctor Ravenwood. But what I can’t figure out is why you would want to kill Sophie. What has she ever done to you? Why would you want to try and kill that unborn baby?”
“Baby?” he scoffed. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I want to understand,” I said.
“You’ll hand me over to them!” he barked. “You’re just like them.”
“Like who?” I asked, taking a step closer toward him.
“They’ll kill me,” he said, backing away toward the door, his eyes wide with fear.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I tried to reassure him.
“You’ve already said that you’re going to put a noose about my neck,” he reminded me.
“I didn’t mean that,” I said, trying not to scare him any more than he already appeared to be. “It was just a figure of speech. If you could only remember, you would know I would never hurt you, Doctor Ravenwood.”
“Remember what?” He looked at me with growing unease and suspicion.
I wanted to remind him that we had once been friends. I wanted to tell him that it had been him who had revealed to me what I truly was and how he had left me that warning hidden between the pages of the book The Wind in The Willows. But how could I tell him any of that? He already didn’t trust me. He would only think I was trying to trick him further.
“I just want you to know that I’m your friend and you can trust me,” I said.
“You lie,” he hissed, claws tearing from his fists. He reached the nearby desk, throwing it across the room so I couldn’t get to him.
“What’s going on here?” Murphy was at the study door.
Turning to find him standing there, Ravenwood leapt forward burying one set of claws deep into Murphy’s stomach. An immediate patch of black blood began to form over the crisp white shirt he was wearing. I cringed at the sickening squelching sound as Ravenwood withdrew his claws from my friend. Murphy staggered backwards, his hands to his stomach. His knees buckled beneath him, as he went crashing to the floor.
“Murphy!” I screamed as Ravenwood bounded over him and rushed out into the hall.
At the sound of my scream, Uri, Phebe, Hunt, and Mrs. Payne came running from the dining room.
“Jim!” Mrs. Payne cried out, seeing Murphy lying in a lake of his own blood on the floor of the hall.
I knelt beside him, pressing the flats of my hand over the wound in an attempt to stop the blood flow. It felt sticky and hot beneath my fingers.
“Get after Ravenwood,” Murphy wheezed.
“But what about you?” I asked, leaning over him.
“I’ll heal, Kiera,” he said. “I promise. Now don’t let him get away.”
“See you later, alligator,” I smiled down at him.
“In a while, crocodile,” he whispered, closing his eyes against the pain.
“Someone look after him,” I told the others, as I raced to the front door.
“Not you!” I suddenly heard Murphy roar.
I looked back over my shoulder to see Mrs. Payne trying to give Murphy the kiss of life.
Poor Murphy, I smiled to myself before leaving Hallowed Manor in search of Doctor Ravenwood.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Leaping down the front steps, I could see Ravenwood darting into the wood on the opposite side of the lawn. Wasting no time, I set off after him. I raced across the lawn and into the wood. Shafts of bright summer morning sunlight cut through the gaps in the trees. There was a brisk wind, but no rain at least. The leaves made whispering noises overhead like children sharing secrets behind cupped hands. I could see Ravenwood zigzagging through the trees ahead.
“Doctor Ravenwood!” I called after him.
He glanced back, saw me. With eyes brimming with fear, he set off again. Was he heading toward the summerhouse? Did he know that Sophie was really alive and that I’d saved her? Was he hoping to make one last attempt at ending her life? I ran after him so fast that to the casual onlooker I would have looked like nothing more than a fleeting blur. Ravenwood raced ahead, matching my speed and agility. Then something caught my eye. Two darker shapes racing through the woods, approaching from either side. I shot forward, head down, picking up even greater speed.
I could clearly see Ravenwood ahead of me now. He looked back, his face masked in fear. The two black shapes I had seen shoot from behind the trees fluttered all around him. Ravenwood cried out, waving his white fur-covered hands in the air. Drawing closer still I could see that it was Uri and Phebe who had caught up with him. They were lunging and swiping at him with their claws. Blood sprayed up into the air, splattering the nearest trees.
“Leave him!” I roared, jetting forward and shoving Uri and Phebe aside.
Uri flew back through the air, crashing into a tree trunk some feet away. Phebe landed on the ground in a pile of wet leaves. Both sprang to their feet as Ravenwood set off again, deep into the wood.
“Who put you in charge?” Uri sneered, coming at me. He didn’t look so friendly now.
“Back off!” I shouted, raising my claws like a fistful of razors.
“You’re meant to be one of us,” Phebe said, leaping backwards.
“I’m on my own in this world,” I snapped.
“He murdered Sophie,” Uri said. “She became one of us.”
“Sophie’s not like us, she’s a vampire,” I corrected him. “Ravenwood is one of us.”
“But he’s a murderer,” Phebe tried to remind me.
“And I want to find out why,” I snapped at her. “Now go back to Hallowed Manor. I can handle this.”
“But he’s dangerous,” Uri warned me. “He not only killed Sophie, he tried to kill Murphy too.”
“I can deal with this,” I tried to convince them.
“Why do you want to protect him?” Phebe asked, her long, dark hair blowing about her face in the wind, wings shimmering.
“The only thing I want to protect is the truth,” I said, staring at her.
“The truth about what?” she asked, as if prepared to hear me out.
“That’s what I’m hoping to find out,” I said.
“C’mon,” Uri said, taking his girlfriend’s arm. Then looking back at me, Uri added, “I’d get after Ravenwood if I were you, before you let a killer get away.”
I watched them head away from me, back through the wood toward Hallow Manor. Losing sight of them amongst the trees, I turned and set off after Ravenwood. I flitted forward, my wings out now, and claws and fangs at the ready. I knew Uri and Phebe were right about Ravenwood. He had tried to kill Sophie and he had attacked Murphy. But I believed he had only done that because he was scared. He was keeping a secret and wanted to get away. I believed that secret was the reason he had poisoned Sophie. I hadn’t gone far when I caught sight of Ravenwood ahead of me again. He wasn’t heading in the direction of the summerhouse, but the weeping willows. I raced after him.
Just before reaching the clearing on the other side of the weeping willows, I made one last desperate lunge forward. I gripped Ravenwood with my claws, dragging him down onto the leaf-covered ground.
“Let me go!” he blasted.
“I can’t do that,” I said, fighting with him as he tried to break free from the hold I had on him. But his strength proved greater than mine as he threw me off him. I spun over and over through the air, thumping down onto the ground at the base of a large tree. A spray of copper coloured leaves shot up from beneath me, seesawing through the air like giant pieces of confetti. My hair hung down over my face and I clawed it away. Springing back to my feet, I charged forward again. Ravenwood saw me coming and raised his giant claws.
“Don’t make me hurt you, Hudson,” he growled, stooping low as if reading himself to attack.
“I just want to know why you wanted to kill Sophie,” I said, lowering my own claws
so that he could see I wasn’t a threat to him.
“No good will come of Potter’s and Sophie’s mixing,” he said, eyes bright and burning now. “Humans and Vampyrus shouldn’t mix.”
“But you promised you would help Potter and Sophie,” I tried to reason with him. “You knew about the baby…”
“The baby,” he almost seemed to laugh. “The half-breed? There is…”
A dark blur shot across my eye line, causing me to lose sight of him for the briefest of moments. When he was visible again, Ravenwood was staggering forward, his claws to his throat. Blood spurted through them and down the front of his shirt in thick black streams. I felt suddenly bewildered. What had happened? Then, as if a sudden gust of wind had blown beneath the willow trees, I saw Sophie drop out of the sky and into the clearing. The morning sun shone off her shimmering wings. They looked as if they were covered in glitter. Blood dripped from her fangs and onto her chin. I looked over at Ravenwood then back at her.
“What have you done?” I gasped, heart suddenly racing.
She smiled, her thick, long hair blowing about her bare shoulders. She still wore the sequined dress she had been wearing the night before. “I saved you, Kiera, just like you saved me.”
“You ripped his throat out!” I shouted at her.
“Before he ripped yours out,” she said.
“He wasn’t going to hurt me,” I said, running across the clearing toward Ravenwood. He stumbled forward and I caught him in my arms. As gently as I could, I laid him down onto the ground beneath the willow trees. He made a gagging sound in the back of his throat. His white claws were soaked red now. Ravenwood’s eyes rolled back into his skull behind the half-moon shaped glasses.
“Look what you’ve done,” I murmured at Sophie, as she stood watching me from the centre of the clearing. She almost seemed to glow in the light from the rising sun.
“He tried to kill me and he would’ve killed you, too, Kiera,” she said matter-of-factly.
Sophie might look beautiful, but it seemed that Potter had created a monster.