Cameo and the Highwayman (Trilogy of Shadows Book 2)

by McCullough-White, Dawn

  “Your palace? Oh, no. I mean, I couldn’t impose—”

  “Oh, but I insist that you join me.”

  Cameo felt compelled to agree.

  “Take my hand.”

  She hesitated. This was not her Master.

  “Come to me,” he demanded. “Take my hand.”

  “Haffef is my Master,” she said as she set her hand in his.

  He examined the spikes on the back of her black glove with bemused interest.

  “He will never let you do this.”

  Edel lifted his eyes from her hand to her face, “What am I doing?”

  “Trying to take me as your thrall.”

  He grinned. “Nothing could be further from the truth.”

  “Then let me go.”

  The vampire ignored her. Taking her by one hand, he began to lead her up the road toward the palace. “You will be happy here.”

  “Haffef will find me,” she sighed in exasperation.

  He stopped, then turned back to look at her once more. His expression was kind, “He won’t. He never sets foot in Shandow—he can’t.”

  * * * * *

  Lockenwood could be very cold at night, something that Jules had become acutely aware of after being tethered to a tree for several days. He lingered alone in the darkness with only the dead bodies of several of his fellow assassins lying in the clearing behind him. He had been beaten, stabbed, starved, and left to die of exposure in the woods by Cameo and some of her annoying friends. He had every plan to repay them for their lack of hospitality, as he cut through the last thread of his bonds.

  Jules collapsed against the forest floor, his breath visible in the moonlight as it was knocked out of him when he fell. His body ached from being forced into a standing position for days, and even the frozen ground seemed to offer some relief. He had been blessed that Lorelei dropped a dagger near him, but he would’ve preferred an assassin’s blade or anything sharp. In the many hours that he’d been working away with that… item… he had come to the conclusion that she was carrying it for protection while on the road and had never once bothered to have it sharpened. He could have used it to butter bread; instead, he spent the better part of his time hacking away with it at the rope that he had thought to bring along with him in his backpack. A good quality hemp. He regretted spending the extra money on it now. At the time, it seemed like such a good investment; little did he know that Cameo would use it to bind him and not the other way around.

  Curling into a fetal position on the forest floor, he brought his hands up to examine them. His wrists were still tied together. He had been able to cut through only the length of rope tied to the tree due to the angle. Jules laid back for a moment, his long dark hair falling around him, and he felt the chest wound that Opal had left him with. The blood had been staunched by Cameo, but it ached, and he had no idea the kind of damage that that stupid dandy had inflicted on him. A single tear rolled out the corner of one eye in frustration. He thought about how good it felt just to lie there; maybe he could go to sleep for a little while. Just drift off… he was parched, and his shoulders throbbed, and that’s when he determined that if he did drift off to sleep, he might not wake back up. The assassin worked the dagger up into his right hand again and refocused on the task ahead of him. He had to free himself so he could kill Cameo. Not for the bounty on her head, no, but because he really hated her.

  His agony ignited a flame of anger within him and renewed his resolve to free himself. He sawed away feverishly at the rope tied so tightly around his wrists that it threatened to cut off his circulation.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw something moving over the bodies of the murdered assassins: wolves.

  He then cut into his thumb.

  “Dammit!” Jules hissed. I will rip your throat out, you bitch. Left me here to die. I swear, if I get out of here alive….

  * * * * *

  Edel and Cameo approached the palace. He led her off the road and deep into the snow, avoiding any soldiers standing guard at the grand entrance. They walked to the very end of the east wing, then Edel pointed to the window on the second story, and she recognized it from the visions through her shadow-men.

  He never said anything, but simply lifted her into the air as he leapt onto the ledge, pushed the window open, and let them both inside. The vampire never released her hand, so when she did get the bright idea of trying to jump down, she was unable to.

  Inside she beheld a grandeur she hadn’t seen in years. Within the sitting room was a large marble fireplace, warm with a roaring fire. The walls themselves seemed to be made of white marble. There were bookcases paneled with white mother-of-pearl, and settees of deep burgundy velvet.

  She stepped down from the window onto an exquisite woven carpet that surely came from some extraordinarily exotic place she’d never set foot in. Then she realized that she had tracked snow into the room and looked up at Edel almost apologetically.

  He favored her with a kind smile and released her from his grasp. For him it was as if he had just brought a wild animal into his home to be cared for. He watched as she moved in awe from one antique to another.

  Cameo looked up at the huge mirror over the fireplace. It was a bit tarnished at the edges, and it was a golden color. In the reflection of such splendor, she seemed very out of place. One tiny woman: zombie, a killer, a servant.... She did not belong here.

  Cameo turned from the looking glass and bumped into Edel’s shoulder. He had been standing behind her all that time, and she never saw him.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she breathed, taking a step back. His jacket smelled of the grave, and she brushed her nose and mouth with the palm of her hand, then she remembered he could read her mind.

  “Completely my fault,” he said politely. “Completely my fault. Um, well then, would you like to see the rest of the apartment?”

  “Yes.”

  “Right this way,” he extended his pale hand before him and allowed her to walk on. “Here is my room,” he briefly touched the door covered in mother-of-pearl, “and here is the dining room.”

  She walked in, and there at the end of an fine mother-of-pearl and gold gilt table was something resembling a man. Something like a corpse. It was very pale, and wrinkled, and had a wispy shock of steel gray hair on its head.

  Cameo expected this man to move, so she waited for a moment, but he remained motionless.

  “Hello?”

  Nothing.

  “This is Chester,” Edel said finally. He took a step closer to the thing. “Chester awaken.”

  The man blinked his eyes. They were milky white, corpse-like eyes. He pulled his hands from where they’d been resting on the table in a painfully slow manner, and he pushed back the chair, then stood. At full height he was stooped and frail in his excellent gentleman’s ensemble.

  “Chester is my butler. He’s been with me a long time, haven’t you old boy?”

  “Yes, Master,” Chester rasped. His voice filled the room with a high-pitched sound, much like a cat’s weak mew.

  “This is my new good friend, Cameo. She’ll be staying with us now.”

  Before Cameo could protest, Chester met her eyes with his milky orbs.

  Cameo’s mouth opened, and she couldn’t seem to shut it. She was looking at a zombie. Another zombie. She had never seen another in her life. And this was a zombie? He was so slow, so weak. She felt he would break if he tipped over.

  Edel touched Chester’s shoulder gently, as he might have if they had been long-time friends, and also with the tenderness one shows to an elderly father.

  “Is this your thrall?” she asked incredulously.

  “Friend,” he corrected. “You two do have something in common, as I see you’ve noticed. It’s in the eyes,” he smiled. “The dead eyes. Yes, he is also a zombie.”

  “But he’s so different....”

  Chester stared at her. He was so horrifying and pitiful at the same time. He seemed quite helpless.

  “I’ve
noticed that.” Edel fixed his thrall’s large bowtie and straightened his silk jacket. “Fetch us some tea and dessert.”

  Chester turned and staggered out the door at the opposite end of the room.

  “Come along, Cameo. Why don’t we have a look at the room I’ve prepared for you?”

  “Is that why you have a servant? For tea?” She walked ahead of Edel back into the sitting room.

  “He’s my butler, yes. Would you have me send him on outlandish missions and endanger his life, as our Master does with you? Or to spy on other people?”

  She turned around to look into his eyes, eyes that were no longer quicksilver but light brown. He was more human in appearance now that they were no longer in the dark.

  “As you do with your thralls?”

  “How did you know?”

  He smirked. “I saw them the first time I saw you. They follow you everywhere.”

  “They do?”

  “Certainly. You mean to tell me you never noticed?” He tilted his head to one side, studying her face. “After all these years, you never wondered?”

  She exhaled in exasperation.

  “Too caught up in your own little world, hmm? Well, that happens, I guess.” He pointed at a hidden door that she could barely see until he pushed it open. “Your room.”

  Cameo took a bit of a staggered step inside, afraid that if she did walk in he would simply slam the door behind her.

  Edel strolled into the room past her and pointed out the view of the woods out her window. “It’s much prettier in the summer.”

  “Uh huh.”

  He lit several candles, and as he did she could see the luster of gold gilt in the corners of the room. A very large wardrobe with a painting of a white peacock on the front, large mirrors set in the wall, and a bookcase. This time as she looked into the mirrors, she could see the candles being lit by a flame held by an unseen source, and when she turned back she could see that it was Edel. The bed was large, with steps on each side to climb in. She wondered at the softness of the mattress, was there linen or silk on that bed?

  She glanced up at the vampire who was on one side and stopped in her tracks.

  He met her eyes, then glanced at the bed.

  Cameo didn’t move.

  “I could add chairs, of course. Perhaps a desk?”

  “Whiskey.”

  “Oh, yes, I have a bar in the other room. I’ll have Chester stock that.”

  “How do you plan to keep me here?” Her voice was dull, hardened by years of torment.

  The other zombie appeared at her open door.

  She actually started.

  “Thank you, Chester,” Edel’s voice comforted her.

  Cameo felt him come up behind her. She felt helpless, stuck in another situation that she didn’t know how to get out of.

  “I’m to be your prisoner?”

  “Only until you understand—”

  “That I’m free of Haffef,” she rolled her eyes.

  “There are refreshments in the sitting room,” he said, but his voice sounded a bit uncertain.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Oh, Cameo, I don’t mean you any harm, but I don’t know another way to make you comprehend.” He brushed past her and into the sitting room, saying, “In time you’ll understand,” as though he were trying to convince himself.

  She crept out, looking around for Chester tentatively, uncertain if she really wanted to face him again. “How old is he?”

  Edel perused the slices of different cakes his thrall had delivered. Some chocolate with raspberries, some white cake, and some truffles, everything was lightly powdered with sugar. He was enamored by the desserts that he could taste only with his eyes.

  “I need a drink,” she muttered.

  He offered tea.

  She laughed.

  “What makes you think Chester is old?”

  Cameo ate a raspberry. “I must warn you poisoning does not work on me so you may want to try a different tactic if you want to kill me.”

  “Such as,” he searched her expression, “snapping off your head?”

  She nearly lost her appetite mainly because she couldn’t tell if he was serious, and he certainly could do it. “That might work.”

  “It would work. You are not immortal, Cameo, as you’ve long suspected.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yes. You have a long life, and that is all.”

  She thought of the waste that her undeath had been so far, this just another pitfall along the way. Her life had been nothing but servitude, and the moment she had a friend in the world, she was forced to do without.

  “What friend?”

  “I hate it when you do that.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m unable to control it. Everything is coming at me all the time. All of these thoughts and ideas and this knowledge… and I have no one to share that with.”

  Her eyes fell upon him sitting there before the fireplace, the heart-shaped face, the clothes that smelled of death, and then she looked away, uncertain of her thoughts.

  His expression widened for a moment.

  She took an uneasy step back. “Just how do you plan to keep me here?”

  Edel rose sinuously from his place on the couch and faced her.

  She now felt that she had been correct in taking that initial step back and sorry she hadn’t had the opportunity for one last whiskey. She took two steps toward the window, planning on jumping through it just to get out of the Belfour’s palace.

  Edel had her wrist so suddenly that she would’ve fallen forward if he had not pulled her back up.

  She kicked him and made an awkward attempt as wrestling her arm free.

  “Gaze into my eyes,” he commanded.

  Cameo immediately met his eyes, and then she stopped struggling.

  “You cannot leave this apartment.”

  She suddenly realized what she had suspected all along: she was trapped inside the apartment with Edel and that zombie, and it would be useless to try to escape.

  “You are no longer in Haffef’s power.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  He took her by the shoulders, as if a stronger grip on her body would equal the control he had on her mind. “You are no longer in Haffef’s power.”

  “I am Haffef’s thrall… and so are you,” she said with a voice that sounded empty, and dark.

  He sighed. “Tell me, Cameo, when I leave you alone will you leave this apartment?”

  “No, I cannot.”

  “Alright,” he let go of her shoulders and turned from her. “Why don’t you have something to eat?”

  She moved across the room, in a stupor.

  “Awaken.”

  Cameo found herself beside the dessert plate, with a piece of cake in her hand. “What did you do to me?”

  “I didn’t harm you.”

  She looked over at the window. The last thing she remembered was trying to free herself from his powerful grasp. “What did you do?!”

  “I only put you under my spell for a moment.”

  Cameo searched for her pistol.

  Edel took a step toward her.

  She tossed the cake down and pulled her weapon on the vampire.

  “You can’t hurt me with that.”

  “Oh no?” She pointed it to her right, where Chester was walking into the room to pick up the mess she had just made with the cake.

  “Please don’t do that.”

  “He’s a zombie like me right? Not immortal, no; he just has a long life,” she said, waving the pistol at the mindless zombie who had not stopped when she pulled the gun.

  Chester ambled toward the spoiled dessert, with a rag in one hand, hoping to clean up that spill.

  “Please don’t,” Edel said breathlessly.

  Her mouth opened again; those were the same words she seemed to say to Haffef every time he did something horrible to someone she loved. It was the same intonation. The pistol drooped in her hand.

  “Is that what Haf
fef did to you, too?”

  He watched as she put the gun back into her belt, then his eyes met hers once more. “Yes.”

  “What did you do to me when I was under your spell?” She touched her throat, looking for a smear of blood.

  “No, not that,” he said, helping Chester up and off the floor before him. “Will you be leaving tonight?”

  “No,” she said, “I can’t.”

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  She glanced over at the window near the fireplace, still partially open; snow was blowing inside. “Uh, I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  She looked at him angrily.

  Edel was bent over, somewhat embarrassed. He looked up at her hesitantly. “I don’t want you to go yet.”

  “I should’ve shot Chester,” she muttered, as she stormed toward the hidden door that led to her room.

  “I’m sorry, Cameo,” he called after her.

  “Yeah,” she hissed, closing the door behind her. The world outside her window was getting gray; it was nearly morning. She searched her boot for a small flask.

  Chapter Three

  A BELL SOMEWHERE IN THE DISTANCE woke Opal. It was a great tolling bell, like at one of those damn shrines. He became acutely aware of the sun shining on his face.

  “She’s gone.”

  There was a man in his room. Opal sat up with a jolt, looking for a weapon.

  “Good morning, Black Opal.” Kyrian was at the foot of the bed.

  “Oh, it’s you,” he snarled, annoyed to be woken so early in the morning, and lay back down. His back was very stiff for having such a good bed to sleep in. Opal turned over and realized that the bed was still made; he must’ve fallen asleep while talking to Cameo.

  “Where’s Cameo?”

  Kyrian rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Gone I guess.”

  Opal readjusted his eye patch and got up. “What time is it?”

  “Ten.”

  “Really?” He ran his fingers through his blonde locks, “I must’ve needed my rest.”

  “Apparently,” the lad scoffed.

  Opal pulled the bell for room service. “I need coffee, and some glorious pastry, and maybe some fruit if they have any… and then I think I shall have a bath.”

  “She’s taken all of her things.”