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Deception

Page 16

by A. S. Fenichel


  His chest ached. Perhaps this was a broken heart.

  Her blue eyes were the loveliest he’d ever seen, and when she looked at him, he saw only love in their depths.

  His pain eased. He kissed her and she opened for him. Their tongues met in a dance that had him hard again. His fingers threaded her soft hair. Breathing hard, he broke away and kissed her cheek. “We have to go, mon trésor. I am not angry, only disappointed. I will recover.”

  It was worth the small lie about recovering to see her smile again. “I will meet you downstairs.”

  * * * *

  The remains of the old church loomed in shadows of the waning day. Several footmen helped them build a large fire near the ruins, and then Dorian sent them away. He couldn’t bear the idea of people who worked for him being injured or taken by demons.

  Night swallowed the last bit of sunlight. Dorian stood near the fire and watched the ruins.

  Lillian walked several yards away.

  A shadow crossed the light from the moon.

  He drew his sword and pistol, crouched, and waited.

  Her face masked with worry, Lillian ran toward him. She held both her sai blades. Crouching next to him, she cut a piece of cloth from her skirts and handed it to him. “Dorian, tear this in two and plug your ears. Do not fight. If she comes near, close your eyes. Do you understand?”

  “No.”

  She tore another piece of her skirt and tucked the shreds in her ears. “Just do as I say.”

  He had a dozen questions, but did as she told him. Twisting the fabric into his ears, he stayed low and waited.

  Lillian tied up her skirts and took a stance in front of him. She scanned the sky. The muscles in her arms firmed tensely. She was a lioness ready to pounce, and he was the thing she protected.

  The shadow crossed again. A terrible scream filled the night. The cloth muffled it, and he was tempted to listen more closely. Was someone in trouble? Did someone need their help?

  She ducked away from something, but her back obstructed his view.

  Lillian leaped in the air, swinging her blades as something swooped down.

  Wind gusted from the thing flying above them. The fire flared and sparks flew in every direction.

  The shadow moved to the right. Lillian’s mouth opened, and the temptation to know what she called overwhelmed him. She and whatever she fought moved out of the light of the fire. He couldn’t see anything, and the cloth in his ears prevented him from hearing. He was isolated. Helpless.

  Standing, he searched the darkness for Lillian. Just inside the scope of the firelight, a woman landed. Her long hair blew back in a wind that did not touch his skin. Naked, she reached out to him. She spoke, but he couldn’t hear, and every fiber in his body wanted to hear her. Never in his life had he seen a more beautiful woman, and she was all for him. No other woman would do. He had to have her.

  He closed the distance between them, reached out, and she touched him. Ecstasy. His body trembled with it. She wanted to tell him something important. She was going to declare her love, and he couldn’t hear. He tugged the stuffing in his ears free.

  A scream, somehow familiar, female, but not from his beautiful, naked love.

  The hand that touched him and gave him such pleasure dropped to the rocky ground. Her eyes blackened, and her nose receded to two small holes as her perfect heart-shaped face elongated into a horror mask. The hair he’d longed to touch glowed translucent. She was an abomination.

  She screamed.

  Pain erupted inside his head, and Dorian clutched his ears.

  A flash of metal caught the fire’s light, cut through her neck, and her head fell to the ground.

  His eyesight blurred and everything turned black.

  Lillian’s worried eyes came into focus above him. “Dorian, talk to me.”

  Thunder crashed around inside his head. “Lilly? What happened?”

  Relief shadowed her sweet face, and she sank forward, hugging him. “That is twice I nearly lost you.”

  “I’m fine.” It might have been a lie, but he sat up. A wave of vertigo limited him to reaching his elbows.

  Lillian slapped his chest with biting strength. “I told you not to look. I told you to stay down.”

  His muddled mind cleared and he focused and remembered. “It was a banshee. I’m sorry, Lilly. I should have listened. Maybe Drake is right. Maybe I do need a refresher on my training.”

  She helped him stand up and another wave of nausea spun his head and stomach. The pounding in his head eased.

  The creature’s winged body huddled not far away, its hand and head a few feet closer. How could he have mistaken that gray beast for a woman he loved? Especially when the woman he loved was right there and had never left him.

  “Dorian, I think we were set up to be killed tonight. No ritual is going on. No demons or humans have come to worship below. The banshee nearly eliminated you and could well have killed me.”

  “Let’s find the carriage, go home and send for Drake. He will have to answer for this.”

  He walked on wobbly legs with the help of his sword and Lillian. She’d saved his life. The tearing sound of the banshee still fresh in his mind, he cringed at the state he might have been in. If he’d not been killed, madness might have destroyed him.

  * * * *

  By the time Drake Cullum arrived, Dorian was feeling himself again. Other than weariness and a slight headache, the banshee’s cry had not damaged him.

  “You say you received a note today instructing you to go to Holyrood?”

  “You know we did.” Lillian’s voice sharpened.

  “I sent no note.” Drake frowned.

  “It had The Company seal,” Dorian said.

  “I sent no note. I have no idea who might have done so. The seal is locked in my desk. I used it this morning to send a message to London. The implications are not good.”

  Dorian reeled with the danger of a spy inside The Company. “The note was in your hand, Drake.”

  “May I see it?”

  Lillian paced the room with stiff shoulders and fisted hands.

  Dorian walked to the door and told the footman to go to his room and fetch the message from his dresser.

  Lillian sat across a low table from their superior. “If we assume your desk has been broken into, what are we facing?”

  Bile rose in Dorian’s throat.

  Drake ran his fingers through his hair. “It is not good, Miss Dellacourt. My desk holds all the details of where hunters are located and their assignments.”

  “Then we are compromised.”

  The footman returned with the parchment, and Dorian directed him to hand it to Drake.

  “It is a very good imitation of my writing. Not perfect, but I can see how you might think I wrote this, especially accompanied by the seal.”

  Dorian took it. On further inspection, the curve of the letters was exaggerated, and the signature lacked the gentle flow of Drake’s pen. He tossed the page aside. “What do we do now?”

  Drake Cullum stood up and straightened his waistcoat. “I will secure the items in my desk, and going further we will take great pains to encode our messages. It will take some thought. As soon as I have a full plan in mind, I will inform you and the rest of The Company. In the meantime, exercise caution, find out what the demons are planning under Holyrood and figure out how to find and close the gates.”

  Lillian stared down at the carpet, then straightened. “Today we found documents regarding the agreement of the four lords.”

  “What four lords?”

  Dorian took the seat next to Lillian. “Shafton, Ellsbury, Whitely, and Bluntwhistle made an agreement seventeen years ago.”

  “What did they agree to do?”

  “That is the question. We know a year after their original agreement they made a pact to rid the world of demons.”

  “A year after. What did they agree to initially?”

  “We are not sure, though we have some suspicion they m
eant to harness the power of demons and use it to defeat the enemies of the crown.”

  Drake shook his head. “Arrogant bastards.”

  Lillian nodded. “Yes. Do you know any of them besides Shafton?”

  “Ellsbury is a young man. His father died when he was a small child. Whitley and I went to school together. He has been the earl since he was a boy. I remember his father died suddenly. I do not know Bluntwhistle, but the family owns substantial lands in England.”

  “Shafton never told you about his association with these men?”

  Drake rose and paced the floor. His back was stiff and his fists clenched. “I was hired ten years ago by The Company. At the time it was run by Shafton, and he admitted to making a mess of things.”

  “We saw your contract. It was in the archives. We found the documents regarding the four lords in crates tucked into a back corner.”

  “I will send for Shafton.”

  Dorian stood. “Might I ask you to wait a few more days? We need to gather more information on our own before confronting his lordship.”

  “As you wish. I have a lot to think about and a security problem to deal with. It seems you were right, Miss Dellacourt.”

  Lillian stood and offered her hand for shaking. “It does not matter who was the cause. We have to fix this.”

  The hint of a smile broke Drake’s hard stare, and he took her hand. “Indeed.”

  “We will inform you of any findings,” Dorian said.

  Drake turned toward him. “I have been thinking, it is time you had a change of occupation, Dorian.”

  “I beg your pardon.” Too shocked by the statement, he couldn’t examine it.

  “Yes. I am transferring you to the field. You are no longer my assistant. I will find another at some point, but for now, your skills will be more useful in fact gathering and demon hunting. As I have no idea when Reece will be available to hunt again, you may continue as Miss Dellacourt’s partner. It seems to suit you.”

  “I see.” Was it a demotion? Did that matter? It meant being near Lillian in the long term and not temporarily. Perhaps he’d gain more of her trust. It was well worth the blight on his record.

  Drake narrowed his eyes. “You have done a fine job. If you want a different assignment, speak up.”

  “No, sir, I am pleased to work with Lillian.”

  Drake nodded. “Good. I will see you both tomorrow. Better get some rest. Dorian, are you certain you are unharmed?”

  Dorian nodded, shook Drake’s hand, and saw him to the front door.

  Chapter 10

  Lillian accepted the package from the footman. She acted as the lady of the house. None of the servants seemed bothered by it. In fact, they all treated her like she and Dorian were already married. Warmth curled in her belly, but she squashed the emotion. No good could come of living in a fantasy.

  She took the note from the top and opened it.

  My dear, Miss Dellacourt,

  Thank you for your note. I am doing quite well. Belinda saw me back to London, and I will go to the country estate for a month before once again joining his lordship in Scotland. Now that the entire family knows of our purpose, things are much better.

  Belinda and Tullering hired a small army to protect me on my travels and at home. It is strange to have new people in the house, but they are all splendid footmen and I feel quite safe.

  With regard to your request, I am happy to help you in any way I can. I have stored the enclosed journals of his lordship for many years. While I have not read them, I feel certain they can be of assistance. David used to be fastidious about keeping an accurate journal. Perhaps the details of how he came to his current employment might help to end this war.

  While you and I have only met a very few times, I feel I know you. My daughter thinks the world of you and speaks of you often. Without you, our family would have shattered the night Belinda was taken. I know you will use the information within these books for the greatest good.

  Please be careful as I hope to be in your company again very soon.

  With greatest admiration,

  Jacinda Clayton,

  Countess of Shafton.

  Lillian handed the note to Dorian and unwrapped the package of six leather-bound journals, each one monogramed in gold with the earl’s name. She opened the top book. Dust and the moist scent of aging parchment wafted up from the pages. Her heart pounded with the notion that so many answers might be inside these volumes.

  Since suspecting a mole within The Company, Dorian’s study had become their base of operation. Dark woods and overstuffed furniture assured comfort missing in the dusty archives.

  Dorian placed the countess’s letter on the desk. “I don’t mean to be indelicate, Lilly.”

  “What is it?”

  “I had been told her ladyship had a love of drink and opium. I’m surprised by the lucidity of this message. Not only that, she cleverly reminds you of your duty to Belinda. I would not have expected this from the rumors I have heard.”

  “I agree. I can confirm the rumors are true, but it seems she is doing better than the last time I saw her.”

  “Why do you suppose she has not read them?”

  “Journals are private. Perhaps she does not wish to invade her husband’s privacy.”

  “Yet she sent them to you.”

  “She must believe it will help our cause.”

  “I think she trusts you.”

  “Do you think her trust is misplaced?” Her voice quivered.

  “I think your hate for his lordship has clouded your judgment in the past, but no. Her ladyship has judged you well. You will do the right thing, even if you do not like it.”

  Her eyes prickled with unreleased emotion.

  Dorian drew a chair close to her and sat.

  She flipped to the first page, and she and Dorian read.

  May 20, 1793

  Those creatures came out of nowhere, and I had never seen anything like them in my life. Nothing God created could look so hideous or be so evil. Bluntwhistle wants to destroy them, but I think they may have a purpose. England has enemies, and an army of those evil things could tip the balance of power.

  I have convinced Bluntwhistle to think on the subject. It is only a matter of time before I sway him to my way of thinking.

  August 4, 1793

  I followed one of the demons to a cavern north of Edinburgh. I had to climb through a hole and wade through grime. It was not becoming of a man of my station. Still I did it for my country.

  Sneaking inside one of their cells, I thought I would certainly die. They pray to something I do not see. It is imperative we discover what they are doing in that cave and who they worship. I know this is what is best for England.

  Bluntwhistle continues to oppose this action. I have enlisted Lord Whitley to my cause. He is much more amenable to using the demons for the good of the crown.

  I know the power of these beasts can be harnessed.

  February 28, 1794

  I traveled to Wales on the word of a witch. She told me there was a monastery in the west where I might find answers. The monks are long gone and the church abandoned, but I found a text of immeasurable value. The monks learned to control the demons hundreds of years ago. The book is a manual to do the same. Four men of noble birth are needed.

  To this end, I have convinced Ellsbury to join us. His father squandered their fortune, and he is keen to bring great wealth to his family for the sake of his young son. Perhaps it was wrong for me to prey on the weakness, but we need a fourth to gain control of the monsters.

  I am troubled by the demise of the monks, though I can find no evidence regarding the cause. Perhaps I can avenge their deaths as well once the demons are under my power.

  June 9, 1794

  I have witnessed immeasurable terror. How do I begin to write what I have seen? It is too horrible, yet I must get it off my chest if I am to go on.

  Frederick Bluntwhistle is dead. Maybe he was right. These demons kn
ow no reason. They are bound by no set moral code. The master they pray to is not in this world, but his arm stretches with god-like power. My friend Frederick’s throat was cut, and his blood seemed to strengthen the effects of the demons’ prayers.

  I know now they work to open a gateway between two worlds. I must get to this master and control the power behind these monsters before the gate opens.

  July 1, 1794

  I must find a forth lord. It is important not to let Frederick’s death stop us. We have learned so much and nearly had the demons in our power. If Frederick had stood his ground, we might be using the master’s minions to defeat all of England’s enemies. I believe this with every fiber of my body.

  Finding a fourth will be difficult. It will take time. Weakness will be the death of us and put the crown in danger.

  December 22, 1794

  All is surely lost. Ellsbury and Whitley are both dead. There was nothing I could do. My life was in peril and my escape only by the grace of God. Still the demons pursue me. They have discovered where I stay in Edinburgh, but I am loathed to return to England. My wife knows nothing of my doings in Scotland, and it must remain that way. Jacinda could never understand what I have done. I have to protect her and our new baby girl.

 

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