A Draught of Ash and Wine, page 10
Confusion tightened the knot between Vic’s brows. “A golden net? To what purpose?” Comprehension flashed across his face. “They were after me,” he said, a hitch of surprise in his voice.
“We don’t know that for sure,” countered Johnathan, “but they’ve been tracking us by unconventional means since the train. What if they intercept us before we reach the Estate?”
Vic looked up at him, a mixture of anxiety and anger in his gaze. “What are they tracking?” The words were a murmur, his consternation reflected inward.
A memory nagged at the back of Johnathan’s thoughts, of that dreadful night and all its loathsome revelations. He could almost hear Evans’s words echoing through his head.
Vic stiffened beside him. “We’re close.”
The memory burst. “How can you tell?”
“It’s a feeling, a feather stroke across the senses,” said Vic. “Once you’ve been there, you’ll be able to sense it too.” He gripped the edges of the sheet and grimaced at the cold rain. “We can’t wait until dark. Better make a run for it now.”
There wasn’t much the crew could do to them if they spotted their two stowaways now. Vic lifted the sheet high enough for Johnathan to roll out first. Fresh air was a welcome change, the heavy rain offered a grace of adjustment for his senses after days in the shrouded space. Their worry was for naught. If the crew spotted them in this mess, they deserved to be caught. The rain was so thick he could barely see his hand when he stuck it out in front of him. The torrential conditions limited their visibility and sight equally as they embarked on the shore. His clothes were soaked in minutes. He might have lost Vic in the deluge if the man hadn’t clasped his hand and pulled him along.
They exited the barge without incident and waded the few feet to shore through a thigh deep stretch of the river. There was a momentary pause when they stepped back on land, waiting to see if Johnathan sensed their pursuers. Sister Wilhem and her contingent had either given up on them after their losses, or more likely, the river had disrupted their trail long enough to lose them. He doubted their luck would last long, though he hoped the weather would hinder the Society’s movements as well.
Johnathan squinted through the downfall. He tried to sense what Vic described. The pounding droplets were a constant distraction. “Should we try to procure gloves? Possibly a hat?” Those pieces of Johnathan’s disguise were long lost or destroyed, which meant his inhuman attributes were on full display. A feeling of exposure weighed on him. Would the mystery proprietors of the Estate recognize what he was on sight? Or were demons rare enough that they would hesitate to react?
“Trust me, it’s better we don’t try to hide anything about your appearance. You’ll see. We’ll be there soon.”
Despite Vic’s assurance they were close to their destination, there didn’t appear to be anything for miles but more trees, the dense canopy of branches providing little relief against the rain. To Johnathan, it could have been the same damned forest they’d traipsed through days ago. The dark wet trunks blurred together, closing around him. Pine needles and branches dug into the sensitive pads of his bare feet until the cold numbed his skin. The chill ate at his stamina, each dragging step incrementally heavier. Even with Vic’s guidance, the rain and cold bogged him worse than when he’d been human. They drew to a sudden stop, but Johnathan saw nothing outside the dripping branches.
“Ah, we’re here,” said Vic, his tone nonchalant.
Johnathan scowled and swiped a hand down his drenched face. “There’s nothing here.”
His companion didn’t move except for his mouth. Vic gave him a tight smile. “Oh, there is. Though it appears the proprietors are still cross with me.”
“The proprietors?” Johnathan swiveled around, searching through the rainy gloom for a hint of a house or person. “How can you tell they’re displeased?”
“Because I can’t move,” said Vic, his tone absurdly calm for such a statement. Johnathan rushed to his side. He searched the ground for snares. There was nothing. Grabbing Vic’s wrist was a mistake. Lightning coursed up his arm. He grunted but he didn’t let go. A firm tug confirmed Vic was stuck fast. The shock faded to a dull buzz that made Johnathan snap his teeth in irritation.
“Hell and bother, what did you do to them?” The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Johnathan’s attention shifted to the figure who appeared through the trees, their features concealed by the lip of a small umbrella against the rain. There was an oddness to the air beside them, the rain fall disrupted, slowed through the patch to a near standstill.
“That one is immune to our preventatives.” The voice was hollow, a discordant echo that grated on the ears.
The umbrella tipped, the person beneath it studied Johnathan. “Katherine, please see to our unwelcome guest.”
The odd patch of air rippled and sped toward Johnathan. For a second, he saw the face of a woman, distorted and washed out like a reflection in a pond. The image vanished. Icy fingers sank into his skin, draining the warmth from his blood. Johnathan gasped, collapsing to his knees. His breath emerged in a chilled fog. The cold seized his lungs in his chest.
Vic swore, though he was still pinned fast. “Katherine! Wait, please, let me explain,” he said.
The figure beneath the umbrella held up a hand, two fingers flicked in Johnathan’s direction. The cold abated to a tolerable level, though his teeth began to chatter.
Ignoring Johnathan, the figure turned toward Vic. The umbrella tipped up, exposing the lower half of their face, revealing a delicate elfin jaw at odds with the full lush mouth. Dark red lips quirked up in a smile that promised sin. “My, my, didn’t expect to see your sorry carcass for another decade.” There was a throaty quality to their voice, rich and smoky.
The downpour seemed to abate when they drew closer. A decadent scent teased Johnathan, a blend of rosewater, woodsmoke, and sweet wine. Visible around the umbrella handle, their fingernails were painted a brilliant red, the color a vibrant highlight in the gloom. A direct contrast to their conservative long skirts. They stopped a few feet away, watching Vic with an air of expectation.
“This little trap you set out says otherwise,” teased Vic. The tone drew Johnathan’s attention. “Or were you looking to snare other vampires out here?”
A delicate snort answered him. “None of the others would have shown up without warning.”
Vic blew out a huff, his lips oddly stiff from whatever spell held him fast. “My apologies for failing to do so under pursuit.”
The umbrella lifted higher, a mix of amusement and scorn in their brilliant green eyes. They observed Vic’s rough appearance. “I should leave you out here to rot, vampire.” The harsh words were softened by their apparent humor, laced with a hint of bitterness.
“It’s good to see you too, Merry,” said Vic, unruffled by the threat. There was clearly a history between the two. Johnathan struggled to remain ambivalent. “You look marvelous as ever.”
The newcomer laughed, a sound full of suggestion and dark promise, one that prodded at Johnathan’s possessive streak, unaware he had one. He set his jaw, trying to remain still while their reunion played out, but the cold continued to drain his reserves. A full body shudder drew that sharp gaze to him.
“Well, at least you’ve brought a handsome piece of trouble to my door.” Merry ran their tongue over their teeth. Their gaze wandered over Johnathan, arching a brow at his bare feet. The scrutiny irked him, though he couldn’t understand why. He frowned and examined Merry, stare for stare. The feathery beat of their pulse, steady and sure flowed beneath their warm brown skin. Johnathan blinked.
Merry was human, though they didn’t bat a lash at his unusual appearance. He’d expected Vic’s mysterious proprietors to have a keen awareness of the supernatural if not be a creature themselves. Merry’s perusal was a touch more personal than he expected. A hint of heat crept into his ears.
Their smile widened. “Delightful.” They folded the umbrella, using the length to support themselves on the uneven terrain. “Now, let’s have a look at you then,” said Merry. “Katherine, hold him still for me.”
Vic’s calm evaporated. “Merry, wait—.”
Johnathan frowned. Both Vic and Merry referred to a third person, sight unseen. Where were they? He glanced around when the cold seared him and battered at his consciousness. This was far worse than icy water or any natural cold he’d experienced in his life. It sank into the marrow of his bones. His vision wavered, eyelids fluttering as he rocked back on his heels.
“Katherine, stop. That’s too much,” Vic snapped, strain in his features.
Merry frowned, glancing between them. “Easy, Victor. This will only take a moment.”
Their hand shot out. Painted red nails pinched Johnathan’s chin, tilting his face up to meet their gaze. “Hello, lovely one,” Merry purred. Their smoky, floral scent, twined around him, and Johnathan finally sensed the hidden power lurking in those green eyes. Merry might appear human to his senses but they were also something else. Weakened by the cold, he was pinned surely as Vic, while Merry peeled away his defenses, peering straight into his soul. A pale light flared deep within their pupils. The Hound rose with an internal blast of heat that beat back the cold. Johnathan jerked out of Merry’s hold, his body trembling.
A feminine hiss echoed through his mind, accompanied by a faint muttering. Johnathan shook his head, trying to dislodge a voice that wasn’t his own.
Merry’s empty fingers twitched, their expression stunned. “What exactly have you brought to my door, Victor?” they murmured. Their gaze sharpened, tightening their grip around the umbrella handle. “Katherine?”
That diminishing cold moved through him, emerging from his chest in a shimmer of frigid air that coalesced into a woman. She whirled to stare down at him, her translucent face incredulous. The longer he watched, the more solid she became, though her appearance remained washed out, the colors leeched away to reveal an ethereal creature of gauze and gossamer. A woman without a scent, and though her cool breath fogged the air, the vital organ in her chest remained still.
The woman was dead. Judging by the state of her dated clothing, she had been dead for some time. Her accusatory gaze rounded on Vic. “You brought a demon to our door.” The resonant echo of her voice sharp as cut glass.
“I can explain, please Katherine,” Vic pleaded.
Katherine paced in a short circle; her hair lashed around her in an invisible wind. “Explain? Victor, you know how dangerous their kind are!”
Merry’s response was less frantic, their gaze curious. “How is he here? What breed is he?”
“What does it matter?” Katherine threw up her hands.
“You don’t understand,” said Vic, through his teeth. There was a subtle tension in his frame that made it clear he was fighting whatever mystical hold either Katherine or Merry had on him. “There are special circumstances regarding his presence. We need information. We ask for sanctuary.”
Katherine scoffed. “Demons are not welcome.”
Johnathan remained slumped on the ground. Their argument was a chaotic buzz in his ears. He wanted to tell Vic to stop trying. That no matter what he told them, their minds were made up.
“You are more than welcome to stay, Victor,” said Katherine. “That creature is not.”
That made Johnathan flinch. Weary beyond measure, he could feel their chances slipping away, remotely aware Merry continued to observe him.
“What are you?” The tip of the umbrella gently prodded his knee. He glanced up, trying to gauge the intent behind Merry’s question.
“Hound,” he whispered, dragging the word from his throat. Katherine’s reaction was visceral. Her disconcerting appearance was exacerbated when pieces of her faded out sight. Merry blanched and spun on Vic.
“Really, Victor? A Hellhound?” Merry gaze darted to the surrounding trees. “Where is his master?”
Vic looked miserable. “Here, I guess. I mean. It might be me?”
“Might be you?” Merry echoed, a tone beyond incredulity into to something bordering panic.
“That’s not possible,” Katherine snapped, the echo in her voice made worse by her distress.
“We aren’t sure,” Vic rebuked. “It’s complicated. Look, he’s only been a Hound for the better part of a week.”
The building air of panic dispersed. The two proprietors shot each other a loaded look that made Johnathan’s weary senses tingle.
Katherine threaded her fingers together. “What do you think?”
Merry pursed their lips and gave Johnathan a far more clinical perusal than before. “Are you dangerous?”
Vic sputtered. “I told you—”
“I wasn’t asking you, Victor. Impeccable character that you have, your judgement here is clearly biased,” said Merry.
He didn’t dare look at Vic when he answered. “Yes.” He continued, ignoring Vic’s protests. “I don’t know how to control it.” He swallowed. “But I promise I will not intentionally harm either of you.”
The two shared another silent exchange before Katherine gave a shrug. “See if he can get through the door.”
The words meant nothing to Johnathan, but Vic perked up.
“Come on then, my troubled beauties, before you bring a swarm of demons to our door.” Merry snapped their fingers, releasing the spell on Vic. The umbrella snapped back open, Merry a whirling dervish as they spun on heel and sauntered back through the trees.
Katherine shook her head in exasperation. “Such dramatics. It’s good to see you, Vic, though I wish it were under less complicated circumstances.” She shot Johnathan a final uncertain glance and faded from sight.
Johnathan stared after the rapidly disappearing figure, stunned by their encounter. Vic reached for him, breaching his stupor. His fingers traced the air along Johnathan’s jaw, not quite touching him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you.” Vic crouched down beside him.
Johnathan shook his head. Nothing would have prepared him for that meeting. The familiarity between Vic and Merry, however, stoked an unfamiliar emotion, prickly and uncomfortable in his own skin.
Vic sighed. “We’d better follow before they close the way out of spite.” He helped Johnathan to his feet, but his hand dropped away. He headed into the gloom. Johnathan slowly followed in his wake, silence building between them.
In the days spent regaling Johnathan with stories of his past acquaintances, Vic hadn’t mentioned Katherine or the peculiar Merry. He was grateful for those stories for myriad reasons, but he realized his companion was very careful not to mention one subset of companions. He itched to ask the question. There was a reason he didn’t. Johnathan kept his mouth shut.
That unease was forgotten when the world pulsed, an invisible wave a of warmth ballooning around them that pushed back the heavy curtain of rain. The thick stretch of trees vanished, curving around a sizable expansive of what appeared to be an open field. Johnathan blinked when a massive structure shimmered into sight. His jaw went slack.
Nestled in the clearing, the Estate was three stories tall, a sprawling compound complete with buttresses and balconies. It was a marvel of wood, glass, and stone. The building’s curving wings and towers gave it the appearance of a great beast crouched and ready to spring. The dark exterior presented an imposing front, but light burned from several windows; the front door opened wide, a beacon of safety through the chill and damp.
A low hum traced over Johnathan’s skin, like when Merry grabbed him. His steps slowed, the urge to turn tail and flee rising until Vic realized he was flagging behind.
“Easy, John, let it get used to you,” murmured Vic. His hand slid down Johnathan’s back, a comfort that kept him in place.
What was getting used to him? Bewildered, Johnathan kept moving. He ascended the front stone stairs to the open front door, shoulders hunched by the time they reached the threshold. The welcoming scent of wood polish and lemon verbena permeated the air, the wood floor and walls beyond the door comprised of deep rich mahogany, polished to a warm glossy sheen. Intermittent glass lamps hung around the room and banished the shadows with a sunny glow.
Katherine and Merry waited a few steps inside, observing their approach with an expectant air. They paid no attention to Vic’s entry, fixated on Johnathan as his feet passed over the threshold. There was a slight pressure around his shoulders, but whatever the two expected, he entered the Estate unhindered.
Merry extended their open hand. Katherine rolled her eyes and dropped a heavy silver coin into their waiting palm. “This way, gentlemen.” Merry grinned.
A thick pine green carpet absorbed his footsteps. Johnathan cringed as his bare muddy feet smeared the pristine weave.
A short hall spat them out at the foot of a grand staircase, twice as wide as he was tall. An iron chandelier suspended overhead, decorated with dozens upon dozens of individual glass globes. A steady light glowed from within. Johnathan marveled at the feat of engineering, wondering how long it took to light the individual wicks. Katherine shimmered into view several steps above them. He might have passed their little test, but latent hostility lingered in her gaze.
Merry shuffled around them, ascending the first few steps. Absent the umbrella, their host was a figure swathed in layers of black gauzy skirts that clung to the curves of their body. In the warm light of the chandelier, their appearance dazzled, highlighting the golden hues in their rich brown skin. Curling brown hair reached their waist and framed the angles of their face. Their arms were folded under their breasts, flashing a healthy display of cleavage while they studied their guests.
There was an appreciative gleam in Merry’s expression when they looked at Vic. Johnathan bit the inside of his cheek.
The front doors slammed shut with an air of theatrical finality, likely for their benefit. The chandelier shivered above them. A satisfied smirk tilted the corner of Katherine’s mouth, making her features less severe. Johnathan’s unease continued to build.
Their host’s smile was one of secrets and charm, gesturing to the open staircase with a twirl of their fingers. “Welcome to the Estate.”
