“But…” she tried to speak.
“I haven’t much longer. I’m growing weary, and soon I must rest.”
She squirmed under his body, knowing that probably meant he was going to be little more than a lifeless corpse compressing her in a few moments. “Is that why you pulled me inside? So that you could tell me the truth?”
He sighed, “No.”
She looked up into his unnatural eyes. “You’re going to kill me.”
“No, and I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, as if he were reminding himself more than he was trying to reassure her.
She felt his lips against her neck. Cold and lifeless.
“Why?” she asked breathlessly. “How did you happen to be at Gail’s camp?”
His lips rested against her pale skin for a moment, as if he were considering the question. “I found you there.”
Edel’s voice was deep and soft in her hair as he spoke. “I was there when Haffef transformed you in the meadow. I wanted to stay with you, make certain you were safe, but the Master wouldn’t allow it. As soon as he had secured your sister’s body at his home, he sent me off to slaughter the men who had attacked you, and by the time I’d returned, Gail had you.”
“You were trying to protect me?” she asked incredulously. “But why?”
He released what sounded like pent-up, half-crazed laughter, muffled in her long hair. He muttered something incoherent, possibly a name, or another language, then moved over her, slowly, and pressed his lips against hers.
She shrank from him. His fangs had ripped open her mouth only a few minutes ago, although she was certain her wounds were already healing. The blood had dried onto her pale skin, tempting him to drink her blood afresh. But now she knew. He had been the one who had saved her decades ago; she did actually have someone out there who cared about her. A shadow guardian, as she’d once referred to him.
She resisted his corpse-like lips. Their teeth gnashed against each other briefly, ineptly; he clearly had not kissed another person in ages.
“I cannot make you a vampire,” he whispered. “But as I drink your blood, I bring you one step nearer to immortality.”
Cameo stiffened.
He kissed her chin, her jaw with his clammy undead mouth.
She grimaced at the feel of it, wishing she had not flinched as he touched her, hoping Edel wouldn’t notice.
The vampire listened to her breathing, and the slow enduring thrum of her heartbeats. Her blood was flowing, moving through her veins, and as he kissed her neck, gently savoring the taste of her salty skin, he heard an odd sound, a sigh, or half spoken word… and then he realized that it was him. The sound emanated from him against her pale skin, something—a muffled moan—caught in his throat as he pierced her artery with his fangs and closed his mouth over that one pulsing conduit. Latching onto the life-force forcefully, urgently.
Cameo grabbed his shirt suddenly, shocked by the pain of it.
* * * * *
It was dark when she awoke. There was a great pressure on top of her, making it difficult to breathe, and someone’s head was lying on her shoulder. For a minute she thought that she was lying in the meadow, with Adrian’s dead body on top of hers, and she was about to panic, when she heard an odd sound. A swift, deep intake of breath just beside her ear, and then she remembered. She was weak, and her body throbbed. She had no idea the extent of blood loss that she’d suffered at the vampire’s hands. No idea what his plans for her were; if he meant to kill her, he had failed.
“Edel?” she whispered into the darkness.
“I’m awake,” he said, opening his eyes. “I have imparted my gift to you. It is all I have to give. Now you are not Haffef’s creation alone. You have a little piece of me as well.”
“I have the ability to read minds?” she rasped.
“Not necessarily,” he said. “You will have some of what Haffef gave me, altered in my bite and given to you to make of it what your body is able.”
She thought of Opal waking and finding her gone, and then of Haffef pushing her to the floor at Hattie’s and being left little choice but to return.
“How did he get to Shandow?” Edel’s voice was grim.
“Who?”
“The Master.”
“I don’t know. By ship?”
“Couldn’t be. He can’t cross moving water, unless … No, it’s not possible.”
“What?” she asked weakly.
He shook his head, “Nothing. It’s not possible.” He slid open the lid, saying “I want to look in on Chester now. Make certain he’s safe.” Edel stood and turned around.
“Hello, Edel.”
Cameo recognized Haffef’s voice, and she struggled to sit up. Edel was standing over her with a look of horror on his face. When she finally pulled her arm over the edge of the coffin, she saw Haffef standing there, holding onto Chester, and Jules standing beside him, lugging a large, dusty bag that she recognized.
Jules raised his eyebrows when she flopped out of the casket. There was blood on her mouth and a messy bloodstain on her collar.
“You thought you could escape me. Toy with me. Take her bones.”
“How…”
Haffef grinned at him. “I walked.”
“Across the Azez? It’s not possible—”
Haffef stared down at him.
“Leave me,” Edel demanded.
“And take Ivy with me?” he asked, referring to the bag of bones.
“Yes, take her.”
“And my thralls?”
Edel hesitated. “Yes, take them.”
“And what exactly? Let you stay here, with your…” he shook Chester, “creature?”
“Yes.”
Haffef cocked his head to one side. “It doesn’t work that way, Edel. You left me, and you know the penalty for that.”
Edel’s expression revealed that he did indeed know. “Give him to me.” He reached for Chester.
Haffef suddenly tore one of Chester’s arms from his body. It took little effort on his part, just a quick tug and it was no longer attached, and then he dropped Chester to the cold ground.
“No!” He took a halting step forward.
The zombie writhed around on the floor, his high pitched cries similar to a kitten’s mew.
“Please don’t,” Edel pleaded as Haffef reached for the creature once more. “Please don’t!”
Cameo watched as the Master tore Chester’s head from his body. The sound was akin to breaking straw.
“Chester! No!” A tear slid down Edel’s cheek, “Oh… no…”
Haffef laughed.
Edel knocked Haffef down in an instant, but Haffef was faster and was up so quickly that Cameo could make out only a blur of motion. A moment later, Edel was lying on the floor, feet from where they had been.
Jules dropped the bag and took a step back. The door behind him was open.
She began to crawl toward the entryway, but then she heard a ripping of clothes, accompanied by a loud snap and Edel’s pitiful scream.
When she looked back she saw him. He had one arm now. Her mind was racing. What had she done? Betrayed him. Led him to this demise. “Edel!”
Edel raced toward the door, but Haffef caught him by his other arm and tore that off as well. He fell to his knees before her and met her eyes, as if he were asking her, Why? Why did you do this to me?
Cameo’s mouth opened. She had chosen to spare Opal’s life and had condemned Edel to this ending. “Edel…”
Haffef dragged his one-time protégé back to him, by one leg.
She tried to catch hold of his jacket as the Master was pulling him away, but someone shook her. When she looked around, she saw Jules; he was a step behind her, walking out the door.
Cameo glanced back over her shoulder at the horror enfolding in Edel’s tomb. Edel was being taking apart, piece by piece; he was done for. There was no saving him, and if she got out now, maybe Haffef would forget about her. Maybe she could just run away and get lost
in the world. So she crawled out the door and forced herself to her feet, staggering out into the snow where Jules was waiting.
It was crisp, and dark, and her footfalls echoed as she moved into the night. She took a drink from her flask, wiped her bloodied mouth, and walked away.
END
Turn the page for Chapter One of Book 3, Cameo and the Vampire.
B o o k T h r e e
Cameo and the Vampire
Chapter One
THE GIRL REACHED DOWN INTO her large basket of wash and pulled out a wet sheet, then flung it haphazardly over a clothesline, and as she did she saw him. That man in the distance, standing under a tree in the meadow. He was tall and painfully thin, an aspect even more exaggerated by the top hat that he wore and the long, black hair that touched the grass where he stood. He was staring at her.
She was somewhat unnerved by his presence. She lived alone, on the outskirts of Terrence, with no one around for miles. She supported herself as a washerwoman and by the little money that her sister sent her from Shandow.
It was growing dark. The girl had one more item left in her basket to hang, and then she would walk inside, bolt the door, and hide away from whomever this was.
She lifted a heavy blanket out, and just as she looked up he was standing directly before her. The girl startled and dropped the freshly washed item onto the dirt.
He gazed into her eyes and then tipped his hat. “Hello, Ivy.”
“Hello,” her lips mouthed, making scarcely a sound. Her long, dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders as she stood there. The sky was violet.
There was something menacing about him, but she didn’t run. She was curious instead, mesmerized by the darkness within him. “How do you know my name?”
He smiled at her, “I read your mind.”
Ivy couldn’t help but smile in return, “Sure you did, and I’m the Queen of Lockenwood.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you are.”
“What?” She blushed. “Who are you?”
“A friend.” He looked over at the shack she lived in. “Take this,” he put a gold coin into her tiny hand.
Her green eyes widened, then she shook her head. “No, I can’t....”
But he was gone.
She clasped the gift tightly to her chest, uncertain what had just transpired.
* * * * *
Years later ...
Cameo awoke on the cold floor of a tomb. There was a layer of frost under her cheek, and as she moved to one side, she saw that it stretched along the floor to the wall. She removed her gloves and felt her face for the scars of Edel’s bite.
“There’s a mark.”
She turned over slowly and met Jules’ eyes, which were white, corpse-like—just like hers. He once had had green eyes, but that had been when he was human. He sat in the corner beside a sarcophagus, consciously looking away from her.
“What did he do to you?”
“Nothing I didn’t deserve.” She touched her throat as she sat up. The bites the vampire Edel had left her with had healed completely, but she now had some disgusting new scars. “How bad are they?”
Jules glanced at her for a moment, then lowered his eyes to the gray stone floor. “It looks like he bit your face.”
She swore. It had finally happened: she had acquired scars all over her body, but nothing but a small scar on her cheek up to this point, and now she had the imprint of Edel’s mouth wrapped around hers for eternity. This was all her Master’s fault. Haffef had insisted that she be the bait to distract Edel while he snuck in to steal back her sister’s bones and catch Edel while he was still asleep in his coffin. If he hadn’t sent her in to be some sort of offering .... Cameo pulled on her gloves and stood up, having a little discussion in her head about how much she hated her Master, and as she did she saw Jules look over at her quizzically.
He was still wearing one of the capes from the Association, the company of assassins that they both used to work for, she noted, and then she realized that so was she. “We need new clothes.”
“We do?” There was an edge to his voice.
“They are hunting down all of the assassins who used to work for Wick. A woman told me while I was in town. Surely you must be aware?”
Jules had been chased around the town of Lockenwood and the Port of Villoise right there in Shandow by those who wanted to see him hanged. “Yes,” his voice was hard, and somewhat sarcastic. “I know.”
“Well, I’m going to change my clothes.”
He followed her out of the mausoleum and into a cemetery, which was near the Azez. She was moving quickly and had entered a second mausoleum while he stood mesmerized by the sea that was now one solid piece of ice.
When Cameo reemerged, she had on a long cloak more suited to the weather in Shandow, with a short sword strapped to a scabbard at one side.
Jules tilted his head to look at her new ensemble. “Nice pistol.”
She glanced down at the pistol butt sticking out of one boot. “Concerned?”
“Are you planning on shooting me?”
“Undecided.”
“Well,” he opened his hands, “here I am.”
“The pistol is frozen. Take this,” she tossed a cloak at him, which he snatched out of the air with unnatural speed.
He looked over at the mausoleum she was in front of. “Is this some sort of cache?”
She pulled out her flask, ignoring him, and drank down a morning breakfast of whiskey.
Jules slipped off the cape he was wearing and tried on the cloak she had just given to him. “Better. Thank you.”
Cameo brushed her hair to one side self-consciously, attempting to cover a small bald area she had acquired in a fight with the Master months ago. She was tired of him now. She’d gone for years seeing him only a handful of times, and now within the past three or four months he was there every time she turned around. She was starting to reminisce about her life as a blood-thirsty assassin, a life that she had loathed and wanted to get out of for a long time, but for all of its horrors, she had had more freedom then than she had experienced lately. Perhaps that was over now though. Haffef had what he wanted: the recovered remains of her sister’s long-dead body. There was nothing left of them now, just bones. Maybe this meant that he would just ignore her for a while.
“Well, goodbye.” She turned and walked away from Jules.
He was in the process of tucking his old cape into the mausoleum when she departed.
She needed to get back to Opal. Haffef had forced her to leave him in order to trap Edel, and that had been two days ago now. Poor wretch, Opal; she hadn’t even been able to tell him where she was going. Cameo thought of him lying there alone in an empty whorehouse room, with his hands broken by King Avamore’s jailers, leaving him unable to help himself, unable to eat or drink without someone to help him—and Haffef had forced her to leave him in that condition. Her pace hastened.
The sunlight on the snow was blinding. She was on the east end of the palace grounds, and she had left him at Hattie’s, a place far to the west. She was in the wilderness, slogging through two feet of snow. Last night she had had to crawl out of Edel’s apartment, weak from blood loss while Edel was being murdered inside, his limbs ripped from his body one by one. She had never witnessed a murder so gruesome, and it made even her, an undead with many kills under her belt, pause. Haffef seemed to know how to upset her. Poor Edel, she said to herself. Her mind was racing; she had to get to Opal to make certain that he was all right, make certain Haffef hadn’t slaughtered him while she had been with Edel—he was only mortal, after all. He couldn’t protect himself from a vampire like her Master.
Cameo stopped in mid-step and spun around.
Jules was a dark figure in the snow, just ten feet behind her.
She pulled her sword. “What are you doing?”
He held up his hands. “I have no weapon.”
“Why are you following me?”
“I’m going with you.”
> She laughed a short, bitter laugh. “Go away, Jules.”
He met her eyes.
“We don’t even like each other. Why would you go with me? Go your own way.”
“We don’t? That really hurts me,” he hissed.
She took a step away from him, and he took a step toward her. “And I thought you had changed at Edel’s. Apparently not. I see this is going to be just another fight to the death then?” She reached for her pistol as well.
“I’m unarmed.”
“Arm yourself then. I’ll shoot you regardless.”
“Your pistol is frozen.”
“Fine, come over here, and I’ll beat you to death with it instead.”
He smirked, but then she came toward him—fast. Jules took several steps back.
Cameo charged him with a sword in her right hand and a useless black powder pistol in her left.
Jules raced back across the field, following his own footsteps. He was amazed at how fast he could run now. Only a few weeks ago he had still been human; now he was a monster like Cameo. He had the same awful vampire Master that she did. The love of his life had been murdered, and he was only starting to come to terms with the idea that she had been deceiving him for years. He started to see the tiny dots of the cemetery they had just left in the distance. The former assassin glanced over his shoulder, but Cameo was nowhere in sight.
He stopped and caught his breath, and then, sighing, he turned himself back around and followed her footsteps in the snow.
* * * * *
Cameo entered the brothel quickly, with a determined expression on her face and a sword at her side. She swept in, bringing the snow with her and upsetting the clientele who were lounging in the downstairs of the tavern, playing cards and drinking.
She heard the word assassin clearly as she passed through a kitchen area and up the backstairs. The women working there moved out of her way as she marched up the steps and toward Opal’s room. And then she hesitated as she stood at his door—there was high-pitched laughter and cheery chit-chat issuing from the room she presumed was Black Opal’s. For a moment she wondered if they had thrown him out or given him over to the authorities, and she was about to burst into the room of some gentleman enjoying an evening at Hattie’s.
Cameo and the Highwayman (Trilogy of Shadows Book 2) Page 17