He stood suddenly and pulled her up with him. “Time to go inside.”
“Why?”
“I must be ready. Christopher will come. Trouble comes in threes, and he makes the third plague to have found us in Spain.”
She saw that the contentment in his eyes had fled.
Together they spent hours upon sleepless hours in the sitting room. Midnight passed, then one, two and three o’ clock. Molly sat watching Tom as he paced about the house, moving from room to room with no apparent mission or reason. It was well after four.
“What are you doing still up?” Molly asked. She’d dozed on and off all through the early morning.
“What am I doing? Nothing really, I’m just restless. I slept all day, after all.” Tom toyed with an empty jewelry box, fidgeting and looking into Molly’s eyes with the expression of a child who has been caught red-handed knocking over a valuable vase.
“Are you feeling well?” Molly persisted.
“I’m fine,” Tom said with a forced smile. “Why don’t you try to relax? Get a fire going in your room?” Distractedly, Tom kept looking out each window he passed. Night had long fallen and morning approached, and yet, ever since he’d left the roof, Tom had been acting perturbed.
“All right,” Molly surrendered, “I’ll go to bed again, I suppose.”
“Very well.”
They had just entered her room to build the fire when Sofia called from downstairs. “Señor! Visitor! A gentleman here! Dice necesita hablar con Señora!”
“Do not invite him inside!” Tom’s head snapped toward her voice. His eyes were wide and still. “All right, Sofia?” he called back. Turning to Molly, he said, “Maybe it’s just your father. Wait here.”
“Thomas?” Molly felt uncomfortable. Why would her father come to visit so early?
Tom walked down the stairs and strode to the door with haste. Molly followed closely behind him. Sofia left them, but her expression and the way she kept her eyes on the visitor at the door made Tom apprehensive.
“Good evening sir,” Tom said, meeting the visitor, “I understand you need to see Miss Bishop?” He smiled and offered his hand. “I’m Mr. Garcia,” he said curtly.
The gentleman, though smiling from beneath a broad hat, did not accept the offer. Tom could see his face well enough to determine that he was not Christopher.
“Miss Bishop, may I speak with you outside?” the man asked, looking past Tom.
“What was your name again, sir?” Tom asked calmly.
“We’ll be but a moment, Thomas,” Molly interrupted, trying to form a convincing smile. “I’ll tell them to leave,” she whispered, touching his arm and hoping things wouldn’t escalate for once.
Tom nodded. Molly didn’t appear concerned, so he allowed her to go outside. Molly’s smile faded as she passed through the door. As she exited, two men in black coats traded places with the first gentleman. “You people find me anywhere I go, don’t you? Well, don’t loiter in my doorway. Won’t you come in?”
The men smiled, their veiny, rose-stained eyes glowing.
“How might I help you, Christopher?” Molly asked, glaring at him as his associate led her to his waiting arms. “I thought you would be more intelligent than to …” She trailed off, seeing murderous intentions inscribed his gleaming eyes. “What do you want?”
“Simply to protect you, love,” he responded. His pale face brought back awful memories.
“Well, gentlemen, we all know what happens next, don’t we?” Tom said darkly, looking back and forth between the men in black coats standing in his foyer. As the men drew long, thin, silver blades from beneath their coats, Tom’s eyes turned yellow. A shiny, golden coat of fur spread over his body. “Very well then, just promise you two won’t shame yourselves by screaming, yeah?”
Molly’s eyes cut to the front door.
Christopher chuckled. “I wouldn’t advise going back inside, love. It’s bound to get unpleasant.”
A pair of yellow eyes blinked in the darkness behind Christopher’s head.
“I think it’s already finished,” Molly corrected him, seeing Tom’s large body looming behind the oblivious vampire. One of the men in black coats threw open the front door of the house and staggered outside. His own, long blade was buried in his stomach and twisted into a corkscrew. A broken table leg protruded from his chest precisely where his immortal heart once beat. Christopher remained eerily calm, watching his associate fall to the ground.
“No, it’s not quite finished yet,” he snarled, seizing Molly’s wrist as she attempted to run, holding her in front of him and revealing a large pistol. Molly gasped and imediately reached for La Flor. Tom barked harshly and poised low to spring. “I wouldn’t do anything brave, Thomas,” Christopher warned, cocking the hammer on the pistol, holding it threateningly close to Molly. “I learned something during our first encounter. You may take your own life lightly, but you value hers,” Christopher grinned. “Not that it’s anything to you, but this is all simply a concern of the Black Coat Society. I really hate all these unnecessary measures. I advise you to back down, Thomas. I do not wish Molly harm. But I cannot leave her here. She belongs with her family.”
“Family?” Molly spat the word out like a piece of gristle.
“She is too talented a sorceress to be left in the hands of a self-destructive pirate, and too rare and beautiful a woman to lay with a dog,” Christopher insulted him.
“You pig!” Molly screamed, kicking and wrestling against Christopher’s hold.
Tom’s black pupils contracted. Christopher, some of his confidence diminished, held Molly tighter. Molly flinched in pain, losing her grip on La Flor. Sensing her distress, Tom bellowed a booming howl. The front windows of the house cracked. Christopher yelped, loosening his grip on Molly and clapping his hands against his head to stifle the ear-splitting noise. Tom writhed, growing into full form. Breathing heavily and lowering his clawed hands, Tom bore his yellow eyes down on Christopher from a height of nearly three metres. Molly struck Christopher in the face with her ring hand. The vampire recoiled and released her, misfiring his pistol.
The round shot from Christopher’s pistol emerged from Tom’s right leg, but the entry wound did not immediately heal. Tom wailed. The wound, instead of sealing, began to burn and smoke. Molly gasped in horror, and Christopher backed away cautiously. The beast before them raged and bared its teeth before rushing Christopher. Molly made a grab for La Flor, but Christopher intercepted her. A clawed fist caught him in the stomach, projecting him through a window and into the house. Tom leapt after him, jaws wide open. Christopher raced upstairs, overturning a large bookshelf and hurried into the darkness of the hall. Molly rushed inside after them, loading a shot into La Flor. Tom jumped the main stairs with ease, landing in the upstairs hallway. It was silent and empty.
Molly stood at the bottom of the stairs, her pistol at the ready. She wished she had asked her father for a spell or two, because otherwise her pearl pistols would do her no good at the moment.
Tom crept forward, his frenzied eyes scanning the upstairs hall. A strange shadow materialized on the wall behind him and moved like liquid, mimicking his movement.
From her place at the bottom of the stairs, Molly saw it before Tom could. The shadow’s dark hand peeled away from the wall. Molly could see that it held a dagger. Tom crept along, unaware. A black pair of wings appeared after the hand, followed by a body. Christopher, in his true devilish form, raised the dagger high.
“Thomas!” Molly screamed.
The shadow let out a piercing shriek and stabbed at Tom, who leapt aside and beat the shadow backward down the hall. Christopher stood again with an insane smile on his face. Large black wings spread and fluttered behind him. Molly raced upstairs but froze before Christopher, who stood between her and Thomas.
“Mr. Crowe, I am just as determined as you,” Christopher said, laughing. “Ah, there you are, Molly,” he exclaimed, turning his blood-filled eyes on her. “Don’t be afrai
d. I will kill him quickly, and you will be safe with me again.”
“No.” Molly’s voice felt dead in her throat. She trembled violently.
“And maybe,” he continued, “you will come to your senses and allow me to share this wonderful immortality with you, love. Forever. Imagine that.” He smiled again. His teeth were thin, straight and as pointed as needles. Two, much larger fangs protracted over the top of them.
Molly attempted to steady the gun in her hand. She had no way of knowing if it would do anything.
Tom suddenly pounced and dug a handful of three-inch claws into Christopher’s forehead.
“Aaah!” Christopher screamed, tumbling over the second floor railing. Molly shrieked in terror. Standing, Christopher gave a forceful snap of his wings and soared upward, catching Tom and rocketing the two through the second floor ceiling and onto the roof. Molly scrambled to the roof stairway, cursing her cowardice. Loud thuds from Tom’s fists connecting with Christopher’s body echoed down into the house. Shrill shrieks vibrated the windows and floors. Glowing brightly, Molly’s map ring guided her up the stairs to the roof.
“Thomas, I will protect her! Just give her to me! You know you are a danger to her! I can make sure she lives forever! The Society is strong, and when our new leadership decides it, we’re going to erase our enemies from the world. You don’t want Molly to be among the dead, do you?”
Tom responded with another quick pummeling. Christopher dug his nails into Tom’s lower back. Lifting himself skyward with a flap of his wings, Christopher looked down at Tom. “The clans can’t survive what’s to come, Thomas. You won’t survive. None of your kind will. Don’t curse Molly by forcing her to share your grim destiny!”
Tom leapt from the roof, catching Christopher’s ankle. The vampire hissed loudly, savagely swiping at Tom. Christopher’s needle teeth snapped and gnashed together.
Tightening his grip, Tom swung his body hard and released. Christopher plummeted to the street below, cracking the stone.
Molly crashed through the open roof door, La Flor raised above her head. She spotted Christopher on the ground and didn’t hesitate. Pointing her ruby ring downward, she shouted, “Spuere ignis!”
As Christopher raised his head, his attention was immediately drawn away from Tom by the fireball racing toward him through the dark. He opened his mouth to bellow a shrill shriek before he was consumed. Rising to his feet and screaming in pain, the blazing vampire lifted off the ground, his wings sizzling. Molly tried to fire a shot at him. Reacting quickly, Christopher dodged the shot, retreating up the street toward a church. Tom’s eyes locked onto him. The winged shadow climbed the steeple of the church like a giant bat and disappeared into the belfry. Tom sprinted after it.
Molly fired again, the shot ringing loudly in the darkness as it struck one of the bells inside the tower. Her map ring radiated a violent white light. Realizing it was a warning, she hurried back inside the house. “Sofia!” she called out.
The confused maid rushed to her. “Señora!” She exclaimed, pointing out the wreckage in the main hall and stairway.
“Are you all right?” Molly asked.
Sofia, unharmed, asked where Tom had gone, trying to explain that she and the other maids had been asleep in their rooms when they heard the ceiling cave in.
“I’m going to find Thomas now,” Molly told her. “Keep youselves together and stay safe.” Molly, equipped with her three pistols, ran outside and down the path toward the church, her map ring showing her the way to Thomas.
Tom reached the church and gazed up to the steeple, leaping onto the building’s exterior and digging his claws into the stone. He climbed to the top of the tower and into the belfry. The deep, unbroken darkness surrounded him, disoriented him, stuck to his skin. Christopher’s laughter sounded out in the blackness. He coughed and groaned through his pain.
“Thomaaaas …”
Tom spun around. His ears perked up and his pupils ached as he tried to capture the scarce light as a moth might do.
“You do not understand, Thomas. Your kind is inferior. Your brother is clearly the wiser of the two of you! Look at you—so reckless and brutish.” A dark hand emerged from beneath Tom and slashed his ankle with a dagger, then vanished quickly again, retreating into the solid stone.
Tom stumbled and roared, swatting at the dark.
“I can kill you as you are now, despite our respective physical strengths, Thomas. How pitiful you are in the dark.” The hand leapt from the stone wall again, tearing a gash in Tom’s back before vanishing into the wall. “Does death frighten you? Where is the brilliant light when you need it?” Both hands appeared and shoved Tom backward. He stumbled into a large bell. It rang and echoed deeply in the tower. His wounds burned horribly. Christopher’s dagger was silver. He’d come prepared.
The light from Molly’s map ring was blinding. As fast as her legs could carry her she climbed the stairs to the church belfry.
Christopher’s shadowy form lunged from the wall. He reared back, brandishing his short, silver blade. “I want you to die before the sun rises! All you will see is blackness before you go!”
Molly appeared in the belfry, the light from her ring filling the entire church. Christopher released a harsh gasp, gagging and choking on his shrieks. He covered his eyes. Although his body began to burn away in the light, he advanced forward, the tip of the silver blade one short thrust away from Tom’s heart. Molly drew her pearl pistols and fired. The shots beat against Christopher’s body, forcing him backward. Pushing off of the bell, Tom charged Christopher, tackling and shoving him into the wall of the belfry. Throwing Tom away, Christopher lunged at Molly in desperation, too late remembering her other ring. Trying to slow himself in time, he propelled himself backward with a strong flap of his wings and shielded himself with his bare arms.
Molly, without hesitation, raised her fist. “Spuere ignis!”
Bursting into flames, Christopher tumbled out of the belfry. Tom leapt after him but stopped abruptly at the ledge, watching Christopher plummet toward the ground, wings blazing. The rush of wind extinguished him as he fell. His right wing snagged the outstretched hand of a stone angel carved into a lower tower ledge. His body jerked to a stop as his wing was pierced by the hand of the statue. A faint orange glow appeared on the horizon. Simultaneously, the light from Molly’s ring grew dim.
Tom huffed and puffed wearily. The sky outside grew lighter, orange blending into pink and yellow—black, blue, and violet receding. Molly sat motionless on the floor of the belfry, her eyes void of emotion as she stared at the horizon. Christopher stirred. He tilted his head up to gaze at the sea. Squinting with one eye, he drew in a gasp and struggled to free himself. The red in his eyes became pale and faint. The morning sun rose slowly, and the night was driven from the city streets. The color faded from Christopher’s body, turning him the color of ash. In defiance he stretched a skeletal hand outward and gritted his teeth before ceasing to move altogether. As he froze in that position, his limbs and face crumbled to dust. A light breeze carried him away one particle at a time like a sandcastle in a rising tide.
Tom placed one hand on the floor of the belfry to raise himself to his feet. He limped to Molly and hunched down with his back to her, offering her a ride back to the house. Standing, Molly grabbed onto Tom’s shoulders for support; he gently took her hands to help her onto his back. Leaning a bit, he looped her arms around his neck. The fur was thickest there and easy to hold onto.
Tom descended swiftly down the exterior edifice and landed as softly as possible. He hurried down the empty streets before the city dwellers rose to begin their day. Carrying Molly inside, he motioned for Sofia to follow and carried Molly into his room, where she would no doubt be safest. Sofia stayed by Molly’s side while Tom returned to his normal form. Afterward he excused and thanked Sofia, watching Molly while she lay in his bed. Eventually he fell asleep on the floor beside her.
Tom opened his eyes and blinked them shut several times.
Sofia’s happy face hovered above his as he lay on the floor.
“Buenos dias!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Tom stood up.
Sofia told him Bart had come to the house to tell him the Scotch Bonnet was set for sail, and that word was a local vampire cult had run off the Black Coats earlier in the morning.
“Gracias, Sofia,” said Tom gratefully. He stretched, stripped and put on a clean white shirt and new pants so Molly would not be reminded of the night’s events too soon. As he quickly dressed, he took extra care to be silent, constantly glancing back at the bed where Molly lay asleep. Sofia called them to breakfast. Tom tied his right boot and hunted for the left. Molly stirred slightly.
“It’s here,” she mumbled. Her hand pointed limply toward the corner of the bed on the floor.
“Ah, so it is,” Tom said, sliding it on and tying it quickly. “So, just now awake, eh?” He asked with a grin.
Molly tucked herself comfortably back in her blankets, mumbling something incomprehensible.
“Hm? You were saying?” Tom persisted, throwing off her covers.
“Perhaps.”
“Perhaps what?”
“Perhaps I have just now awakened. Not a problem, is it?” She sounded cross.
“Oh, no, depending on when you woke I may consider you a very lucky woman. Ha ha!” He headed toward the door.
Molly’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Nothing! Are you coming to breakfast?”
Glaring at him, Molly pulled the covers back over her head. “No.”
“Why not?” He leapt onto the bed.
Molly yelped in surprise.
“Ship’s in port, sun’s up, sea’s waiting impatiently. And I’ve done more than enough to lure you out of bed already, I believe.”
“We’re leaving?” Molly asked.
“Yes, we are. Well, I am.”
The Lore Series (Box Set): All 3 Books In One Volume Page 21