Grabbing at the handle I found it slick with the black blood seeping from his wound and couldn't pull it free. The ghoul growled and swung again. His claws raked my shoulder and the sting shocked me. The blow from his meaty hand sent me flying into the brick wall lining one side of the alley. The impact of my back against the surface of the wall jarred me from head to foot and I had a brief moment of dazed confusion. Expecting the ghoul to come finish me off, I was surprised when instead he turned back to Cam.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Driscoll in the middle of the alley, like a pillar in an earthquake, stock still yet shaking with his eyes scrunched shut and mouth pinched in a trembling line. Fantastic. He had the only gun the general had allocated to our assignment. Right now it hung at his side in his right hand, the weapon limp and useless.
"Shoot him," I screamed.
No reaction came from Driscoll. Clearly, the Lieutenant was going to be of no help.
My hand went to my wrist and touched the "chain" there which had served as a twenty-four inch supply of cheese slicing wire until I'd fashioned it into a makeshift bracelet. My weapon of last resort. This moment probably qualified.
By the time I'd untied the ribbon, which secured it, the ghoul had grasped Cam by the hair and lifted him from the ground. Reaching in his pocket, the ghoul extracted an object and held it to Cam's chest over the boy's heart. A faint reddish glow emanated from beneath the ghoul's palm as he chanted in a low murmur I couldn't understand. Cam cried out and then moaned.
With my bracelet weapon in hand I charged at the ghoul just as I heard a few scattered words sounded like Latin: portare animam tuam. Leaping the last few feet, I landed on the ghoul's back. My weight sent him stumbling forward and he dropped Cam. The ghoul bucked and thrashed as he screeched in fury. The rotting flesh smell of the creature forced a gag reflex but I fought down the bile that had rushed into my throat as I clung to him. It would serve him right if I retched down his back.
Simultaneously, I wrapped my legs around his waist and twisted the wire around the ghoul's neck. Pulling with every bit of strength I could muster, the wire tightened and the ghoul's scream turned to a faint gurgle. But the lack of vocal ability didn't stop him from lurching in violent motions designed to throw me off. The ghoul reached for his neck and his claws sliced into my hands and arms like mirror shards.
Fortunately, I wore leather wrist guards or I'd have been bleeding out from a strike to a major artery. An involuntary cry of pain escaped me but I didn't release my grip on the wire. If anything I tightened my hold and I felt the wire bite into his flesh...still not enough to slow him down.
The wire wasn't sharp enough nor was my power great enough to cut completely through the cartilage and bone. The thick, slimy ink-like blood poured out of his wound over my arms and down his front. Good thing I couldn't read ghoul blood. I didn't need to fight off a vision right now too.
"Driscoll," I shouted as the monster and I struggled to see which one of us would survive this night. "Lieutenant Driscoll! Shoot him." Even if he did manage to regain his senses enough to fire, the chances were fifty-fifty Drisoll would hit me instead of the ghoul. With my luck probably more like ninety-ten, but it was worth a shot—literally.
I needn't have worried, Driscoll still didn't move.
My strength was beginning to wane. In another few moments…
Cam rose up from where he lay and crawled toward us. He grasped the hilt of the dagger protruding from the ghoul's thigh and used it to lever himself into a standing position.
The ghoul gave another gurgle, either with pain from the dagger or the wire at his throat. Who could have known at this point?
Cam tugged at the handle and it jerked free. I couldn't have been happier if I'd been a personal witness to Arthur freeing Excalibur. And like Arthur, Cam had the instinct for the use of his weapon. He stabbed the silver blade into the ghoul's chest, into what passed for a ghoul heart.
As Cam twisted the blade, removed it, and then thrust again, I suddenly felt the last resistance in the ghoul's neck give way as the wire garrote severed the last few inches. The head, top hat and all, slipped forward and then plopped onto the ground before rolling hatless into the shadows. The ghoul's body crumpled and it went down.
So did I.
Chapter Two
"Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak."
Sun Tzu, The Art of War
My right foot was trapped beneath the ghoul's body. Using what felt like the last of my strength, I kicked the dead thing with my left foot and scooted far enough to free myself.
Driscoll emerged from his stupor and stomped over to me.
"I should shoot you," he said.
My arms felt hopelessly weak, as if the bones and muscle had been removed. Not only that, rivers of blood ran from my shredded flesh. Now that the shock was wearing off, my arms and hands felt like they were continually being stung by a thousand wasps. I wasn't certain my legs would hold me up even if I could manage the strength to rise.
"Help me up," I said to Driscoll.
His features twisted with anger. Driscoll barked out, "the general shall hear of your insubordination."
"And she'll hear about your cowardice," I shouted. "You son of a bitch. You almost got us all killed. I'd cut off your balls but I don't think you have any."
"How...How dare you?" he sputtered. A fiery blaze lit in his eyes. Driscoll's arm rose upward until I found myself staring into the muzzle of the pistol, with his finger twitching against the trigger.
"No," Cam cried, snatching the pistol from the Lieutenant. Driscoll blinked rapidly then gaped at the young man, as if just remembering Cam was there.
"You shall be executed for that," Driscoll choked out. "Return my gun at once."
"And allow you to shoot us? Not a chance." Cam handed the pistol to me.
Holding the gun was excruciatingly painful because of the wounds on my hands and arms, but better than trusting it to anyone else.
"Wanker," Cam muttered. Gripping my upper arm he pulled me to my feet. Despite the gaping wound to his shoulder still oozing blood he seemed in surprisingly good shape. Much better shape than me, I thought, glancing at the raw meat that used to be my arms.
"Come Amy," Driscoll ordered eyeing the gun in my hand. "We should've been at our meeting fifteen minutes ago."
"I don't take orders from you anymore, Driscoll."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I'm removing you from command of this operation for dereliction of duty."
"That's mutiny," Driscoll cried.
"Mutiny is only on a ship, moron." Bending over the decapitated body, I observed one of the ghoul's hands still clenched in a fist. The fingers wouldn't budge. "Help me," I said to Cam.
The two of us pried at the hand until finally a snap, snap, snap signaled the breaking of the bones. The hand opened to reveal a multi-faceted crystal the size of a pinecone; the interior of the crystal glowed red, while outside was a bluish-grey.
"Why would the ghoul hold a crystal to your chest and what was that glow?" I asked Cam.
He shook his head. "I don't know. I only know it felt as if my intestines were being pulled out of my body through my nostrils."
Reaching down I picked up the crystal and at first it singed my fingers. With a hiss of pain, my hand pulled back automatically. But then I noticed the red glow abating and, testing with the tip of my index finger I found it had cooled enough so that I could pick it up. As I examined it, the crystal continued to grow cooler.
"Do come on, Amy," Driscoll said, twitching and seesawing from foot to foot. "And get rid of him." He pointed at Cam.
Reflexively, I glanced at the young man and noticed the wound in his shoulder no longer bled. Then the wound visibly knit together before disappearing all together.
My arm swung up before I fixed the muzzle of the pistol firmly against Cam's gut. "What are you?" I demanded
Cam's eyes widened. "I'm h-h-human."
"I d
on't think so," I accused with a nod toward his shoulder. "Humans don't heal that fast."
His right hand flew to his shoulder and he explored it with tentative fingers. "I don't understand—"
"He must be a ghoul," Driscoll said. "Give me the gun. I'll protect us from him."
"He's not a ghoul," I snapped, no yellow glowing eyes. No pointy teeth. "What are you doing in this alley?" I demanded.
"My father and I came to London from the country." Cam tugged a hand through his hair.
"Who cares about that," Driscoll said, his voice quivering. "He still has your dagger, Amy. Shoot him."
"And from the haystack you wandered into this alley?" I spoke to Cam, ignoring Driscoll.
The young man's eyes locked with mine. "My father and I were in the Resistance in Hampshire. We came here to find the London section. My father was told we could get information from a merchant called Fenwick about where they are. So we set up a meeting for tonight."
I had difficulty suppressing my instinct to believe him, but I tried anyway, fearing my instinct might be overly influenced by Cam's looks. He was almost beautiful in fact. Even though I was only twenty-one, I knew the tug at my insides must be akin to something like maternal feelings.
Agh. Terrible.
"What rank are you?" I asked the question even though I knew it was useless. Anyone could lie about such a ranking, particularly since I had heard the Hampshire section had been decimated by the prince's forces.
"I'm a private." Cam glanced down with embarrassment before his gaze returned to mine.
I believed him. No one would lie to become a private.
"Where's your father?" I asked.
Cam pointed into the distance. "Out at the front of the shop."
Helpful when the ghoul was around back.
The young man's eyes strayed from mine. "What are you?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Your wounds are healing too." Cam pointed to my forearms.
Glancing down, I saw he was right. The shredded raw meat was gone and only pink lines remained where the claw marks had been. "What the—"
Could it have been the crystal? That seemed to be the only explanation I could come up with for the spontaneous healing. Cam and I had both been touched by the glowing crystal. The rock in my left hand was now all blue-grey and cold. My gun arm fell to my side.
"What is going on, Amy?" Driscoll demanded. "Are you a ghoul, too?"
"Of course not you nutter." I rolled my eyes. "We're all human."
"Well, whatever you are, come the hell on." Driscoll gave a large huff and turned on his heel.
"Cam is coming with us," I said.
The young man's eyebrows arched in surprise and then I realized I'd used his name when he hadn't spoken it.
"Oh all right." Driscoll motioned us to follow. "But hurry. If we don't make this meeting, the general will have my hide. Of course you both will certainly be executed either way."
"That gives us a lot of incentive to accompany you." I laughed, my eyes meeting Cam's. He smirked in response.
Retrieving my coat, I put it on and then pocketed the crystal. I followed Driscoll down the alley with Cam at my heels. About ten meters down the alley we arrived at Fenwick's back door. Driscoll attempted to enter and found it locked. He pounded three times and then paused. No one answered.
"He probably left, thinking we weren't coming," Driscoll groused.
"Oh, let me," I muttered taking a skeleton key from my pocket. After inserting the key into the lock, I twisted it and the lock gave way easily.
Tossing a grim smile over my shoulder, I turned the knob and the door swung open. The backroom was crammed with Fenwick's typical shop inventory—junk. Skirting by a chest piled high with old newspapers, before inching by a collection of salt and pepper shakers perched atop a column of boxes, I weaved my way through the room, followed by Cam with Driscoll bringing up the rear.
At the doorway that allowed passage from the back to the front of the shop, I swept aside the drape barrier and went in. No sign of Fenwick. The shop seemed undisturbed, but a fire burned in the hearth. A teacup with wisps of steam rising from its contents sat on the counter.
"He's gone." Driscoll pursed his lips and shot an angry glare in my direction.
"So it seems," I said, scanning the room.
"The general will be furious." Absently, Driscoll picked up a book from a stack on a table in the corner.
"Uhummm." I crept closer to the counter.
"I'm not taking the fall for this," Driscoll said.
Cam's brows rose as I edged by him.
"What—" Cam began.
I put my finger to my lips and he quieted. With a sudden leap I came around the counter to peer behind it. I'm not sure what I expected to see, but in fact I saw nothing, except the nothing seemed to shimmer with an odd veneer as if there really was something there hidden within the nothing.
So stepping forward I reached into the shimmering "nothing" and when my hand met fabric-covered flesh I grasped a hold of it and pulled. A high-pitched squeal echoed in the room and out of the nothing, the short, stocky Fenwick emerged dangling from the waistcoat I was grasping. His eyes scrunched shut hiding what I knew would be eyes with pink irises that turned red with ire. The demon's sharp nose and pointed chin were in profile as he twisted away from me. As usual he wore the white face make-up he'd previously told me was a remnant of his early life training as a mime. I wasn't sure about the truth of that, but I really didn't care much, either.
"Fenwick, you little shite," I said, shaking the three foot tall demon before I set him on the counter. "Open your eyes."
At my words, his eyes snapped open revealing a pink frightened gaze. "Corporal Amy," he said with a laugh that rang with tinny falsity. "I'm so happy to see you."
"Right," I scoffed. "Then why were you hiding from us?"
"Oh, not from you, my friends," he assured me. "I was hiding from...I was hiding because...I wasn't sure who was coming into my shop at this time of night."
"But you were expecting us," I said. "And you must have heard us talking just now."
"Ummm," Fenwick hedged.
A thought occurred. "But you also expected the ghoul," I accused. "You sold us to that foul creature. That's why he was in the alley. He was waiting for us."
Hate warred with reason. Pointing the gun at him, my hand shook. The Resistance relied on Fenwick for intel. The general would be upset to lose him, but what did I care for that right now when I quivered so close to losing my famous temper, and blowing the demon to oblivion. The first shot might not do it but part of me relished the idea of dismembering him and then torching his remains.
"You're dead, you little traitor," I said. Fenwick obviously saw the murderous intent in my face. I'd been told my blue eyes appeared almost black in times of rage. Perhaps that was what he saw.
"No. No," Fenwick screamed throwing up his hands in front of his face and cowering. "I would never sell you. The ghoul was to have come and gone by the time you arrived." Fenwick pointed at Cam. "I sold him to the ghoul."
"Wwwhat?" Cam sputtered.
Fenwick glanced up and shrugged. "A demon's got to make a living."
"I don't believe you." Fingering the trigger I waved the gun at him. "You sold me to the ghoul." I did believe him but he didn't have to know that. Chambering a round made him cower deeper into his shoulders.
"Wait," Fenwick cried. "I have information to give you."
"For free?" I asked.
"For....free." The demon''s mouth twisted and his tongue protruded on the last word as if it created a nasty taste in his mouth.
Lowering the gun I said, "All right. Speak quickly. What information do you have?"
The calculating wheels inside his mind were clearly visible as he considered whether to hedge.
"Fenwick," I said in a warning tone and raised the gun again.
"Pax," he screeched giving in.
"The portal to an off world dimension opene
d again yesterday and a hand came through from the other side."
"What?" Driscoll whined his question. "Off world dimension? That old myth? There is no such thing."
"The prince believes in the myth," Fenwick hurried to respond. "He's been sending his agents every day since the equinox to check the location of a portal that opened almost thirty years ago. His astrologers claimed it was time that it opened again."
"Where?" I asked.
"On the top walkway of Tower Bridge."
"Ridiculous." Driscoll huffed.
"It's true," Fenwick insisted.
"Whether it's true or not, that information is useless to us." I tightened my grip on the gun again and its muzzle went from relaxed to menacing. "What else have you got?"
"Prince Leopold's wizard, Gethin," Fenwick cried, cowering again. "He has a factory in London where he is manufacturing a weapon. A crystal within a crystal."
Thinking back to the red glow within the bluish-grey crystal now in my pocket, I wondered if this was one such crystal.
"And what about these crystals?" I asked.
"They have healing properties," the demon hurried to say.
"Why would Gethin create something so altruistic? And how does that make them a weapon?" Driscoll asked with more insight than he usually exhibited.
"Healing is not their primary purpose, of course." Fenwick smirked
"What is their primary purpose?" Lord, the extraction of this information was like pulling the eyes from a fairy gnat.
"I do not know," Fenwick answered.
"I will shoot you." I waved the gun threateningly.
"I don't know." The demon's red lips quivered and a tear slipped down his white, painted cheek.
Lowering the gun, I asked, "Do you know where the factory is?"
"I can show you on the map." After leaping up, Fenwick scurried to a shelf and extracted a parchment. He unrolled a map of the city and environs onto the counter.
Resistance (A Paranormal Romantic Suspense) (Dark Realm Series) Page 2