Crumbling Control (Helena Hawthorn Series Book 3)

by May Freighter

  The stranger pulled off his gasmask and lifted her face to meet his. Ben’s chilled finger’s dug painfully into her jaw. While his eyes burned with hatred, his voice remained colder than ice. “I finally found you.”

  Lucious and Byron arrived at Phil’s office. He clutched the amulet in his hand as he climbed the stairs, full of determination to get Ghoul Master to help them as soon as possible.

  Once Lucious entered the tiny room, the Master looked up from a newspaper he was holding in his beefy hands. He folded the paper then placed it atop of the books on a shelf next to him.

  “Did you retrieve it?” Master asked.

  “I know what this is.” Lucious dangled the amulet in the air. “It gives you the power to bind more ghouls.”

  Master’s eyes flashed red. “Are you threatening me, Lucious?”

  “I wanted to make sure you are aware of the situation you’re in. If Eliza found out…”

  Ghoul Master’s hands started to tremble. “Give me the relic, Lucious, as per your word. Or does that mean nothing these days?”

  Lucious threw the amulet at Master who caught it without batting an eye.

  “Did I miss the fun?” Byron piped in from the doorway.

  “Just about.” Lucious walked to the window and rested his back against the windowsill. “Will you help us capture the hunters?”

  Master raised a thick, dark brow. “Is that an order or a request?”

  Lucious folded his arms. “Take it however you like.”

  The room fell silent. No one moved, and their attention was on Master as he rubbed his fingers along the smooth surface of the amulet.

  Phil pushed past Byron in the doorway with a tray full of pint glasses filled with larger. He set it on a coffee table and looked from Lucious to Master. “I heard everything. It is best we don’t fight among ourselves and concentrate on the true enemy.”

  “I second the old man,” Byron said with a smirk.

  Phil selected a pint glass. He drank the contents, set it back down, and moved on to the next.

  “Isn’t that for everyone?” Byron asked.

  “I never said it was.” Phil sat on the couch next to Master and elbowed him in the side. “Stop being mad already. Lucious got your trinket back, so the least you could do is thank the fellow.”

  Master sighed. “You have my thanks for retrieving the amulet. Without it, the hold on my ghouls would eventually slip, and they would die.”

  Lucious frowned. “Why would they die if they become masterless?”

  Master tied the amulet around his neck. It emitted a dark-red glow before merging with the vampire’s flesh. He rubbed the area as if to soothe the ache. “Fireawn ‘uwnadad was given to me by my sire, the first Ghoul Master.”

  Phil choked on his drink. “Bahir? The man who wanted to rule a continent using an army of ghouls? I thought he was a myth…”

  Master sat back in his seat. “He is no myth. The Royals did not like the idea, so they killed him and every ghoul they could find that belonged to my sire.”

  “I do not care for history lessons, Master. Will you aid us or not?” Lucious asked. His patience was running out. A sudden pain exploded in his calf, and he glanced at it. Seeing nothing wrong, he closed his eyes to feel Helena when Master’s deep voice broke his concentration.

  “I already am. My ghouls are searching the streets of London as we speak for anyone who could be plucked away from the flock.”

  Lucious pushed away from the windowsill. “Then I must go and check on someone.”

  As he drew closer to the door, Byron studied him with interest. “Mind if I come along? I’m dying to meet your bird.”

  “Do as you wish,” Lucious replied.

  At first, his mind failed to process the image his eyes registered. One of the most guarded buildings by the Council, Westminster Abbey, was lit like a Christmas tree with flames escaping out of the smashed, stained windows and charring the stone walls around them.

  He scanned the garden around the abbey, searching the bystanders and the firemen for Helena.

  “Was she inside?” Byron asked beside him, making Lucious’ worry spike.

  He didn’t reply and closed his eyes to concentrate on the link. Yet, when he touched the soul-string inside of his mental shields, it felt cold. Pushing his energy into the link, he willed for it to show him where to find Helena.

  The link didn’t shift. Not a single jitter or tremor. No life. He spat out a curse and started marching to the building.

  Byron grasped his shoulders, drawing him to a stop. “Are you mad? You’ll burn to death.”

  “What if she’s in there?” Lucious demanded, trying to shake his hands off him.

  Byron’s hands shifted into claws and cut through Lucious’ flesh. His voice grew deeper as he spoke, “If she was in there, she’s already dead. And, if not, we will find her.”

  The werewolf was right. Helena was alive somewhere. Although, not knowing her precise location unsettled him. “Let go, Byron. I won’t do anything foolish.”

  His friend retracted his claws and wiped his bloodied hands on his jeans. “Were the hunters behind the attack?”

  “I don’t know.” Lucious motioned for Byron to follow. They merged with the crowd of onlookers. Closing his eyes, he listened to the radio conversation between the firefighters.

  “Search…finished…no one else…left inside…found a few canisters of…accelerant near…remains…look old,” the cracking voice said.

  “I’m losing you. Wrap it up and backtrack to the site. We are going to put the fire out,” the commander responded.

  Lucious stepped out of the crowd with a heavy heart. He contemplated what this could mean. At the same time, he recalled Levile being with Helena. His phone was instantly in his hand, and he dialled Vincent’s number.

  “Master Vincent, there was a fire at the Archives.”

  “I know. Levile and Helena are not answering my calls,” he replied grimly. “One moment.” Vincent’s muffled voice filled the speaker, and Lucious tapped his foot as he waited for the Councilman to continue. When Vincent returned, he sighed. “I must go. Eliza wants to discuss the attack.”

  “So, it was the hunters?” Lucious inquired.

  “We believe so, yes,” Vincent replied, and the line went dead.

  The phone’s screen cracked under Lucious’ hold. He relaxed his cramped fingers and slid the device into his jacket’s pocket. Immeasurable anger bubbled inside him. He lowered his head to keep the humans from noticing his flaring eyes.

  “What do we do now?” Byron asked.

  Lucious balled his hands at his sides. His body quivered with an urge to kill. He vowed to never go back to being a monster again, but he had no choice. No. The hunters took the choice from him the second they laid a hand on the only thing keeping him sane. And, as he saw red like a rabid bull, he was ready to tear each and every one of them limb from limb to get the answers he needed. Damn the consequences.

  The cold from the stone ground seeped into Helena’s side as she peeled open her eyes. For her vision to adjust to the darkness, she blinked a few times. The stench of stale water and God-only-knows-what made her stomach churn as she sat up and covered her mouth and nose with her hand. Searing pain shot through her when she tried to stand on her left leg. She collapsed on the same spot, hitting the stone ground hard.

  “Michael?” she called out with her mind.

  Within seconds, he appeared next to her. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like shit,” she whispered and squinted at her bandaged calf under the light, which came from the tiny gap in the door a few feet away from the cell she was thrown into. The bandages had soaked up blood and dark fluids that were smeared all over her. Judging by the stench, she wasn’t eager for the light to be turned on anytime soon.

  “How long was I out?” she asked.

  Michael sat next to her on the ground and crossed his legs at the ankles. “A little over two days.”

  “You’re
acting strangely calm in this situation,” she responded with a hint of disappointment.

  “Would you prefer I panic? Would that not frighten you more?”

  Accepting his reasoning, she closed her eyes. She had to contact Lucious and tell him to find her. There was no way Ben would wait long to unleash his rage on her. She ran her fingers over Maya’s bracelet and focused her attention on the link. No matter how hard she tried to send a message through the soul-bond, it remained immobile.

  “It’s not working…” Helena looked at her guardian expectantly.

  “This place is surrounded with Wiccan wards,” he replied, staring at the door ahead.

  Her lips pressed into a grim line. There had to be a way out of here. She didn’t remember placing ‘rot in a dank cell’ on her things-to-do-before-you-die list. Using the wall behind her for support, she climbed to her feet, putting most of the weight on her right leg. With every cautious step towards the cell’s metal bars, she caught voices outside the door.

  “Hey!” she shouted, trying to get someone’s attention.

  The voices quietened. Heavy-booted steps advanced, and the door was pried open, letting more light into in the room.

  Helena squinted to mediate the sudden influx of brightness.

  The shadowy figure flicked on the light switch on the wall next to him. The darkness went away a second later, revealing Ben. He glared at her for a long time, saying nothing.

  Dread was like a bony hand of the Grim Reaper on her throat as she contemplated what to say. She wanted to tell him the truth about Maya, yet knew it would only make things worse. Perhaps it was for the best that he believed her to be dead and not a demon…

  “Why did you stop that hunter from killing me?” she asked.

  Ben approached her cell. His emotionless face caused her empty stomach to knot. She staggered backwards when his hands wrapped around the bars with a jerk, causing the metal to hum from the force.

  “Because I wanted you to tell me why you left her there.” Exactly like his face, his voice held no emotion.

  Helena took another step back, careful not to put too much weight on her already burning calf. “I didn’t want to leave her! I tried to save Maya.”

  “Tried…a nice word,” he mused. “And why didn’t you? Why wasn’t it you who remained behind and died?”

  She cast her eyes downwards. There were nights when she wondered the same thing. Over and over, she would replay the memory in her mind, visualising that it was her who stabbed Lazarus and not her friend.

  “What are you planning to do, Ben?”

  “I will make you suffer in the same way she did. Once the union of two clans is complete, we will have an army big enough to take out every vampire in London. Knowing Lucious, he is searching for you as we speak, but he won’t find you. A few friendly witches from Aberdeen made sure of that…”

  Helena’s gaped at him. “Cullodena wouldn’t do that!”

  “Looks like you have pissed off more people than you can count.” Ben laughed. “Even the vampires willingly handed you to me.” He lifted his hand, saying, “Three days is all you have, Helena. I hope you’ll get well acquainted with your new neighbours.”

  She looked around, not seeing anyone else in the cell. “What neighbours?”

  “The rats are nocturnal creatures. You have…” He lifted his hand and checked his watch. “…maybe another hour or two before you meet your new friends.”

  A violent shudder reverberated through her body. Her eyes darted around the room. She saw Ben closing the door behind him and taking away her only source of light.

  “Don’t leave me here!” she yelled.

  He paused long enough to say, “I bet Maya said the same thing.”

  The door clicked shut, leaving her stranded in the darkness. Helena strained her ears. The sole noise penetrating her eardrums was her loud breathing as she felt her way to the wall and huddled in the corner.

  “Michael?” she called out to him, her voice shaking.

  “I’m here, Helena. I’m always here,” he said next to her. His soothing voice brought a little comfort.

  “What should I do?”

  “The only thing you can do in this situation, contact the demon.”

  Helena bobbed her head. Without Maya’s help, talking to Ben was impossible. He wouldn’t listen, even if she pleaded on her hands and knees. She found some stones lying amidst the dirt and grime. She picked the sharpest one and pressed it into her palm. The piercing pain made her clench her jaw. Her blood dripped onto the floor between her legs, and she squeezed her wounded hand above the bracelet. “Maya, please hear me.”

  Nothing happened. Her nails dug into the open cut. The pain migrated up her arm, and she covered her mouth with her hand to prevent a scream from escaping.

  The air thickened with each second. An unnatural breeze climbed her legs, and she drew them in closer to her chest.

  “Is it working?” she asked.

  “It certainly is,” Michael replied.

  When the air was cold enough to make her shiver uncontrollably, the bracelet tightened around her wrist as if trying to break it off. She attempted to loosen it with her blood-stained fingers, only they continued to slip. Hissing in frustration, she gave one last tug. Her body convulsed, and she gasped for air.

  Dark energy stalked around her mental shields. The more the dark vines coiled around her, the less air she could take in. Her lungs burned while her body and mind struggled against the invasion.

  “Relax, Helena,” Michael spoke in her mind. “Let the darkness take you.”

  She let go of her control, the struggle, and the pain. The heavy breathing was replaced by whispers; voices of the people she had missed. But, one stood out—Maya’s.

  Helena faced Maya in the middle of the wasteland she hated seeing. Endless, grey clouds hung over their heads, swirling in different directions yet no wind caressed her skin to explain the movement. She wrapped her arms around her waist to keep in the warmth her body was rapidly losing.

  This was the first time Helena got to see Maya’s full body since the transformation. Her clothes were gone. They were replaced by a shadow-like, ever-morphing energy that snaked around her body in a shape of an ebony gown. The neon-red dye in her hair had faded. Instead, natural red locks fell over her shoulders.

  “Maya, I need your help,” Helena mumbled through chattering teeth.

  With eyes as dark as night, Maya studied her. “Ben…”

  “He won’t believe me if I tell him you’re alive.”

  A single tear left a shimmering trail on Maya’s pearlescent cheek. “I haven’t seen him in so long.”

  Helena’s nails dug into her skin. The cold was becoming unbearable. “Maya! Snap out of it. I need you to talk to him.”

  “I want to. I do, but I don’t think I can. He won’t like me anymore.”

  “Please!” Helena hobbled closer to her friend. “He’s going to get himself and everyone else killed.”

  Snapping out of her dreamy state, Maya’s attention flicked to Helena. “You’re right. I can’t let him get hurt. Not again.”

  “Do you have a plan?”

  Maya smiled a sharp-toothed grin. “Don’t I always?”

  “I hope it works because I’m about to find out whether I ever want pets or not.”

  The darkness around her shields retreated, and Helena gasped, filling her lungs full of frosty air. After a couple of minutes, the cold soothed her burning chest. Although Maya was gone, Helena’s body didn’t stop shivering.

  She huddled closer to a corner and hugged her sides as she envisioned her parents and Lucious sharing a meal with her. The fireplace in the cabin had been lit and produced a comforting glow. Across the table from her, Richard and her mother smiled happily. Their warmth radiated from them, and she smiled back. Looking to her right, she saw Lucious who took her hand in his. He squeezed it gently, making her wince.

  Pushed out of her daydream, she noted that her open wound had r
ubbed against the rough material of her jeans. Tears prickled her eyes and the blissful dream faded as quickly as it came. Reality hit her hard. To make things worse, faint scratching came from the far end of the room.

  Looks like Ben’s estimation was wrong.

  Unable to hold in her nausea that overturned her stomach with the thought of one of those things on her, she fell forwards and retched until her body was beaded with sweat.

  The outlook of the world through Lucious’ eyes was tinted with red. He counted every second of every minute that ticked by while he was unable to do anything to help her. His anger emanated from him as he sat, still as a statue, in a chair in Phil’s office.

  Patience, he thought. He would claim his vengeance on those guilty of taking her. There was nothing left to lose if she had mere hours left to live in the hands of the hunters. And he would return the favour, gladly.

  Four ghouls burst into the office, carrying bodies on their shoulders.

  “Bring them to the freezer,” Phil instructed and opened the metal door to Lucious’ right.

  The ghouls carried in three unconscious hunters, dropped them like vegetable sacks on the blood-stained tiles, and shuffled out of the building.

  Phil rubbed his hands together in excitement. “Do you want to wait for them to wake up?”

  Lucious rose from his seat and, snubbing the question, walked into the opened freezer. The smell of blood assaulted his senses. This was Phil’s playroom, and if he closed his eyes, Lucious was certain he would be able to hear the screams of those tortured here.

  He raked his eyes over each hunter laying there: two men and one woman. Methodically, he took off their shoes, checking for the tracking devices. When he found them, he crushed the tiny round discs with the heel of his boot. He searched their pockets for any hidden weapons, finding silver daggers taped to their backs and ankles. After stripping them to their underwear, he removed the last weaponry they possessed and carefully laid the knives out on the metal counter.