Bronwen stared at him. When she didn’t respond immediately, he jumped in ahead of her.
“Not because I’ve grown fond of you or anything sentimental like that. It’s going to be a cold night,” he explained. “I wouldn’t want anybody freezing to death in my pinecone-infested kitchen.”
She frowned.
“Alistair and Loki are gathering wood for the fire,” he added. “The castle gets… well, cold.”
“Oh. Okay, thanks,” she replied.
He shrugged, then turned away. Bronwen followed him into the living quarters, watching as he took a seat in front of the dormant fireplace and patted the chair beside him. She joined him, wondering if she should attempt to make conversation.
Felix seemed quite content in the silence. He reclined in his armchair and closed his eyes. He was as still as a statue—and a thousand times more appealing.
Without opening his eyes, he began speaking. “Sorry about this afternoon,” he said, threading his fingers together in his lap. “I didn’t know we’d be gone for so long. I hope you weren’t bored.”
“Where were you?” Bronwen asked.
“Although I suppose you had your pinecones to keep you company,” he added.
“Where were you?” she tried again.
He opened his eyes and glanced at her. “Trying to pick up a scent,” he explained. “But there’s nothing unfamiliar in the area.”
Scent? Bronwen turned the word over in her mind. How would he pick up a scent…?
“It’s frustrating,” Felix went on. “The problem is, our scent is everywhere. It completely masks everything else. I can’t even detect yours around these parts, and yours is as strong as sin!”
Bronwen bit her lip. “You pick up scents? Like an…” she stopped herself.
Felix peered at her carefully. “An animal?” he guessed. There was a hint of regret in his voice.
“No, I didn’t mean that.”
“It’s quite alright,” he said, flashing her a charming smile. “You’re not far off, really. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so forthright with my wording. I forget sometimes that a few of my personal abilities are not essentially human traits. Sense of smell, strength… that kind of thing.”
“Oh.”
He looked away from her.
“So what does this mean?” Bronwen asked, quickly moving on. “Isn’t the Severan out there?”
Felix massaged his temples, causing dark hair to coil around his fingers like vines. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Although if it is, I’m sure it’ll reveal itself soon enough. These low-level hunter types aren’t particularly clever. Persistent, but not clever. It’ll slip up eventually, and then we’ll put an end to this.”
“You’re confident,” she noted.
He nodded. “I’ve no reason not to be.” He rose to his feet and stood before the fireplace, resting his hands on the mantelpiece while he contemplated his own private thoughts. “All we need to do is work on hurrying things along.” He exhaled heavily. His breath disturbed the dust on the mantel and it exploded back at him in a cloud of silver particles.
He spun around and let out a hearty sneeze.
Bronwen jumped back in her seat, narrowly dodging the line of fire.
“Oh, that’s all I need,” Felix moaned. “Sneezing! I expect I’ve got scarlet fever, or something equally as ghastly.” He slumped back into his seat, his mouth drooping and his hands flopped into his lap pitifully. “Now I must endure its wrath without the luxury of demise.”
“You haven’t got scarlet fever,” Bronwen told him. “I doubt you’ve even got a cold. It’s all the dust around here.” She eyed the forgotten pieces of furniture dotted around the room.
Felix glared at her. “Please, no more sympathy. You’re far too compassionate for your own good.”
“I don’t sympathise with you. You sneezed once!”
Felix rubbed the bridge of his nose. “That’s how it starts…”
Bronwen rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” she moved on, “you were saying about the Severan. What can we do to speed things up?”
Felix coughed—a gesture that Bronwen assumed was purely for her benefit—before continuing. “Well, we did come up with one way,” he began, the trace of a smile returning to his lips. “In light of the fact that the castle is so potent with our scent, we were thinking that we could make it a little more you.”
“To lure the Severan to us, you mean?”
“Precisely.” Felix’s crimson eyes lit up at the idea. “Let’s call it a friendly hint, just in case it’s lost its way. And you, my dear, will be impossible to resist.” He leaned forward and breathed in the aroma of her hair. “Yes. I’d hunt you myself if I wasn’t all too aware of what an utter burden you are.” He laughed blithely.
Bronwen shoved him away. “Thanks. So, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
“It’s already done.”
Bronwen blinked. “How?”
“We’ve laid a trail leading from the woods right up to the castle. That should help to—”
“A trail? A trail of what?”
“A trail of you things,” he answered indifferently.
Bronwen’s gaze shot to the corner of the room where she’d dumped her duffel bag the previous night. The spot on the carpet was empty.
“No!” she cried. “Please tell me you didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” he insisted. “And if I did, it was only out of necessity. Besides, a second ago you said you’d do anything.”
Bronwen threw up her hands. “Yes, but I meant walk around a bit—not throw all my clothes out into the woods!”
“That was the necessity part.”
“But you didn’t even ask me!”
“I didn’t know I had to. Anyway, it’s not like they’re gone forever. You’ll get everything back once they’ve served their purpose.”
“And when will that be?”
“I don’t know. However long it takes for the Severan to pick up your scent. I’d imagine a few days at most.”
“Days?” Bronwen groaned. “I have to wait days?”
Felix clutched his heart. “Oh no, not days! However will you cope? Thank god it’s not an eternity.”
Bronwen folded her arms. “You can’t keep using that every time you want to win an argument.”
“Yes, I can. And I have an eternity to do so.”
Exasperated, she turned her attention to the falling dusk beyond the window.
Felix raised his eyebrows. “Sorry,” he said, rather unconvincingly. Then, after a bated pause, his tone altered. “Sorry that I didn’t ask you first,” he relented. “But I really didn’t see much point. We’d have done it regardless.”
Bronwen sighed.
“I’m trying,” Felix told her. “It’s not easy accommodating guests, but I am trying.”
Bronwen fixed him with a cold stare. “Are you?” she challenged. “Because it seems to me like you’re enjoying this.”
“This?” he echoed. “You mean, protecting you?”
“You’re not protecting me!” Bronwen exclaimed. “You’re only protecting yourself.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“But you do need the cure.”
For a second Felix was stunned into silence. “You’re right,” he said at last, his voice quiet and husky. “You’re right. You’ve got me all figured out, haven’t you?”
She held his gaze, unwaveringly. “What’s to figure out? You said it yourself, you’ll help me just so long as you get the cure.”
“I did say that,” he agreed. “And I meant it.”
They fell back into a stony silence. Outside, the wind began to whistle through the trees, and the branches scraped along the castle windows. For a while, the tapping of the bark against the glass was the only thing heard throughout the room. Then, sounding agitated, Felix spoke again.
“Actually, Snow,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to ensure that they were alone, “you’re not right. You’r
e wrong. I would have done it anyway. Cure or no cure.”
Bronwen looked into his deep-red eyes. “You’re lying,” she said. “If that were true, then why would you threaten my grandmother?”
“Because I want the cure!” he exclaimed. “I had to threaten her with something to be certain that I get the damn thing! Now I know for sure that she’s telling the truth. I am allowed to want things, aren’t I? Or must I be entirely selfless to meet your impossibly high expectations?”
Another silence hovered over them like an overblown balloon crammed with words longing to be said.
Bronwen was the first to break the hush. “You’re saying you would have done this even if there was no reward?”
“Maybe not at first,” he answered, “but now…”
“But now?” Bronwen prompted, meeting his eyes nervously.
He smirked. “Let’s just say you won me over with your impertinence.”
Bronwen smiled in spite of herself. “Thank you.”
“Unfortunately, it’s my pleasure.”
He paused, giving way to another sneeze.
“There,” he said. “That’s twice.”
Chapter Five
Bad Different
Bronwen heaped a pile of bedding into the spare alcove beside Felix. She crawled into the space and lay back, gazing out the tall window behind her. Thin partitions separated the alcoves where the three boys slept soundly.
Across the room, the fire had more or less burned out, leaving only a mound of embers radiating a small patch of orange light around the fireplace. The rest of the room was pitch black and unnervingly silent.
Outside, the wind moaned as it rushed through the pines, shaking their branches with gale force. The night felt tense somehow; even the stars flickered uneasily around the lustrous full moon.
Bronwen pulled the blankets up to her chin and closed her eyes. Behind the dividing wall, she heard Felix breathe steadily as he slept. It was comforting, at least, to know that he was there. She ran her fingers along the oak planks separating them.
Perhaps she could have fallen asleep like that, safe in the knowledge that she was not alone. But her brief state of reassurance was interrupted by a loud yet distant noise. It sounded like a door creaking open. The catch was, the only doors for miles around were inside the castle.
A trick of the wind, she guessed.
But then she heard Felix’s breathing falter.
She sat upright. “What’s wrong?” she said into the dividing wall.
“Quiet,” Felix murmured. “Is everyone accounted for?”
“I’m here,” came Loki’s voice.
Alistair’s followed, “Me, too.”
Very slowly, Felix rose to his feet.
Bronwen could see him now, his torso visible above the partition. Standing motionless, he stared into the dark abyss of the room.
Farther along, in their own alcoves, Alistair and Loki stood up too.
“Is this it?” Loki whispered. Even standing at full height, he barely reached Alistair’s shoulder.
“What’s that scent?” Felix asked in a low voice. “Something’s not right,” he muttered to himself. “The scent… it’s different. It’s stronger than a hunter’s.”
Bronwen scrambled to her feet. “What does that mean?” she asked, searching for his eyes in the darkness. “It’s not the Severan?”
“I’m not sure,” Felix murmured. “It’s different.”
She swallowed. “Good different?”
He returned his focus to somewhere indistinct within room. “Bad different.”
All of a sudden, Loki retched. “Yuck!” he spat. “What is that?”
“Quiet,” Felix murmured again. “I need to think…”
Another noise came, more of a thud this time.
“Did you hear that?” said Alistair, stiffening. “Whatever it is, it’s here.”
“Right.” Felix glanced along the alcoves. “Let’s get this over with, then.”
Bronwen reached over the partition and grasped his arm. “What about me? What should I do?”
Felix stared down at her fingers enveloping the sleeve of his shirt. “You,” he began, inhaling deeply. He touched his hand to hers. “You stay put.”
He slipped free of her and strode out into the vast room, at once swallowed by the darkness. Alistair and Loki followed like shadows trailing him in perfect sync.
Bronwen heard the creak of the door opening.
A shiver coursed through her body. She couldn’t see anything. Was that them leaving? Or something else coming?
“Felix?” she called meekly.
There was no response.
Oh god, she thought. What’s happening?
She backed into the furthermost corner of her alcove until her spine was pressed up against the glass windowpane.
A snap came from the fizzing embers. Bronwen’s heart leaped into her throat, and before she could stop herself, she bolted. She raced across the room and fumbled blindly for the door. Seconds later she burst out into the lamp-lit corridor.
She spotted Felix right away. He lingered at the balcony railing, his eyes on the courtyard below. Alistair and Loki were farther away. Between them they’d managed to cover the perimeter of the courtyard.
Felix looked sharply at Bronwen. “What are you doing out here?” he hissed. “I distinctly remember telling you to stay put!”
“I was scared to death in there,” Bronwen whispered.
“And you’d rather be killed to death out here?”
She shrugged helplessly.
“Seven bells, Snow!” he groaned. “Go back into the room.”
“I can’t!”
Felix ran his hands over his face. “Okay,” he muttered. “Just keep quiet and stay close to the wall. Or ignore me and do the exact opposite.” He rolled his eyes at her.
Bronwen pressed herself flat to the wall.
Somewhere on the ground below, the hoarse sound of rasping breath disrupted the peace. Whatever it was that was down there, it was moving steadily around the courtyard.
Bronwen held perfectly still; only her eyes moved as she watched Felix pace noiselessly along the corridor.
Don’t leave me, she thought frantically. But it was too late.
Felix disappeared from her sight, so skilfully that it was as though he’d simply evaporated. Alistair and Loki were suddenly nowhere to be seen, either. Now only Bronwen stood in the empty corridor. The balcony railing cast cage-like shadows across her legs.
Before she had the chance to panic, there was a sharp clang of metal several feet from her. Felix had gripped the railing and cleared it in an easy jump, pouncing down into the courtyard below.
Bronwen held her breath. From her post against the wall, she had a clear view of him. He moved into the centre of the courtyard with a confident stride.
And then, she saw it.
She couldn’t pinpoint exactly how she knew it was the Severan. It was not at all what she’d expected. Not a monster, or an animal, or even a hybrid of the two. In fact, the Severan looked as though it could have been a normal man. Granted, he was a brute of a man, but human-looking at least. He was tall and thick set, swathed in a black trench coat. His head was bald, and his scalp was tattooed with tribal markings. His face—or at least what Bronwen could see of his face—was twisted into a sinister scowl.
For a long moment, neither Felix nor the Severan moved. But when they finally did, the sight was terrifying.
To Bronwen’s eyes, it happened in a blur. They moved so swiftly and forcefully that she scarcely knew who was who. And it seemed that with every passing second, their movements continued to accelerate. Until, that was, it all came to an abrupt end.
The Severan coiled its rough hand around Felix’s throat and drove him back into the courtyard wall. He collided into the stone boundary with a loud smack. It held its grip steadily until Felix wheezed and choked for air.
“No!” Bronwen cried. Unable to stop herself, she raced forward
and leaned over the railing.
His eyes shot to her just a fraction of a second before the Severan’s did. A look of pure hunger crossed the hunter’s face. It tossed Felix aside and made for the staircase.
“Bronwen, get back!” Felix shouted, scrambling to his feet.
Alistair and Loki leaped over the railing, landing in the courtyard just as Felix had done. In an instant, the boys were in front of the Severan, intercepting its path. But the Severan turned on them, striking at them in fury.
It knocked Loki aside, then moved onto Alistair, sending him skidding across the floor. With only Felix left, the Severan swung out its thick arm. Felix ducked aside, only to be struck with the next forceful blow, this time to the stomach. He was thrown back into the wall. His head clipped the stone with an almighty crack and he slumped to the ground, motionless.
Alistair and Loki were back on their feet now, but all Bronwen could do was stare down at Felix’s unmoving body.
Come on, she urged silently. Wake up!
When Felix didn’t stir, her heart began to pound faster. Time stood still as she watched intently for even the slightest of breaths to pass his lips. But there was nothing. Nothing at all.
Get up! she willed. You can’t die. It’s not possible. This was it, she realised. This would be the proof she’d been after all along—finally, a chance to see if there really was such a thing as eternal life. She’d wanted to call him out, hadn’t she? To prove him wrong? Only, as he lay there, broken and immobilised, she found herself praying that she’d be the one proven wrong.
“Come back, Felix,” she whispered.
As if on command, he drew in a sharp breath. He rolled onto his side and clutched his stomach, his face buried into the stone floor.
Bronwen felt a rush of relief. Without thinking, she raced along the corridor and stumbled down the steps. Her only conscious thought was to get to him.
“No!” Felix shouted as he caught sight of her on the staircase. “Bronwen, don’t!” He staggered upright and winced in pain.
Suspended on the staircase, Bronwen met his gaze. Their eyes locked in a moment of pure urgency.
“Don’t,” he mouthed, shaking his head. “Please.”
Bronwen watched helplessly as he gritted his teeth and returned to the courtyard. With his last ounce of strength, he forced his shoulder into the Severan’s chest, sending it lurching backwards.
Evanescent Page 5