The Demon Inside, page 25
Through her amusement, she somehow managed to wave a hand towards the stairs, her shoulders shaking as she said, “You’d better take that up to Kate before she sends out a search party.”
Several minutes later, Hope walked slowly back into the room, lips parted and eyes clouded. “I think I’m scarred for life.” Shuddering, she flopped down onto the sofa between Darcy and Rebecca. “I’m never having children.”
“I second that,” Callie muttered, raising her eyes to the ceiling as another of Lydia’s pained cries drifted down the stairs.
“You forget all about the pain the moment you hold your child for the first time,” Rebecca assured them, standing up and walking over to the fireplace as she also lifted her gaze. Callie and Hope shared a doubtful look, but Darcy felt something warm and fuzzy spring to life in the pit of her stomach; one day she’d like children, a family of her own. One day, when it was safe, or at least safer.
However, as time wore on and Lydia’s cries escalated and the usually good tempered woman began loudly cussing her husband, Darcy began to reconsider her decision. The labour lasted hours, dinner came and went, several people came round to see if there was any news and left disappointed. But, finally, it went silent upstairs and then a shill cry rent the air. They all drew in a collective breath and held it until Kate appeared downstairs several minutes later, looking tired and haggard, but satisfied.
“It’s a healthy baby boy,” she announced with a rare smile.
Unable to remain sitting in her excitement, Darcy leapt to her feet. “What about Lydia?”
At the same time, Hope asked, “Have they named him?”
Holding up a hand to forestall any other questions, Kate answered, “Lydia’s fine, they haven’t decided on a name yet and I think it is best if you wait until morning until you see him, give them some time alone together first.” Nodding, Darcy thought grudgingly that the other woman was probably right, though she hated to say it since Kate’s self-righteous tone really rankled.
The others were also disappointed; one of the reasons they had stayed all day was in the hope that they would get to meet the new baby when it was born, however, they all left. It was only once they locked the gate behind them that Darcy realized they were walking back in the dark, totally unprotected. Contemplating the long stretch of road, she grabbed Hope’s hand so that they didn’t get separated and began hurrying towards their house, every sense on high alert until they reached the front door and it was yanked open to reveal Alec standing in the doorway.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He snapped, “I thought you were staying the night at Edward’s, if I’d known you were walking I would have come to collect you. You do not walk home alone in the dark!”
“Sorry,” she defended, taking a surprised step back, “we forgot.”
“You forgot?” He reached out to drag them both inside, slamming the door on the night. “How can you forget that there a murderous, bloodthirsty monsters out there? Are you stupid?”
Beside her, Hope whistled softly between her teeth, muttering, “I’ll leave you to it.” Neither of them spared her a glance as she slipped past.
"No," Darcy said between clenched teeth, glaring at him, "I'm not stupid and it's not just my fault, we all forgot. Lydia and Edward, quite understandably, wanted some privacy and even if I had wanted you to come and escort us home, how do you propose we call you? Phones don't work. I suppose we could have yelled out of one of the windows..."
"Sarcasm isn't helping," he snapped, dragging a hand through his hair in agitation, "you could have been killed." Part of her wanted to ask if he'd even notice, but she knew that wasn't fair; he loved her, she knew he did, they'd just hit a rut and couldn't seem to communicate enough to pull themselves out of it.
So, instead she replied, "But we weren't. We're home safe and sound, no harm no foul," and left it at that.
Chapter Twenty Five
They didn't get a chance to see the baby over the next couple of days because of the hideous weather. It was stormy and overcast, with forks of lightning decorating the sky at intervals followed by loud claps of thunder. However, on the third day they decided to risk it, because though it was still raining, the wind had died down. Dressed in long, hooded anoraks – an item of clothing she never would have been seen dead in the previous year – she, Hope, Rory, Callie and Will made the short journey across the street to the proud new parent’s house. Part of her was disappointed that Alec hadn't come, but she shook that off and pasted a happy smile on her face as they walked, the wind snatching at her thin anorak and plastering it to her legs. When they reached the front door they didn't need to knock because Edward was already there to usher them inside, a stupidly happy smile splitting his face.
"Come and see him," were the first words he said, "he's beautiful."
Once they were escorted into the living room, where Lydia sat cradling the new-born, Darcy secretly thought that may have been a bit of an exaggeration on Edwards part, but then all parents thought their children were beautiful no matter what. Personally, she thought the baby was kind of funny looking. Not ugly, but comically cute, almost like a bush- baby; his head seemed too big for his tiny body and in turn his ears seemed too big for his head and his blue eyes too big for his face. But then again, he had two arms, two legs and ten fingers and toes, so she supposed he was perfect in every way that mattered.
"Do you want a cuddle?" Lydia offered with a beaming smile. Hesitating, Darcy missed her chance as Hope zipped past her to claim the child, cradling him naturally in her arms as she cooed and stroked a gentle finger over his button nose, making him scrunch it up.
Laughing softly at the adorable response, Hope lifted her gaze briefly to ask, "Have you chosen a name yet?"
"Yes, we have actually." Lydia grinned, casting a fond look at her husband who stood behind the sofa, "It took us long enough, but since we couldn't agree on any of the names we'd short listed, we decided on Christian, named after my dad."
"That's nice," Darcy commented, going to perch on the arm of the sofa to peer over her sister’s shoulder, since Callie had already swiped the spot on Hope's other side.
After a few minutes of 'ooing' and 'awwing', Callie exclaimed, "Alright, my turn." Having been completely happy in Hope's arms, little Christian began to wail as soon as he was handed over. Jigging him in her arms, Callie spent a few moments trying to soothe him, before panicking and twisting around to hand him to his father, saying, "Here, have him back." Holding his son to his chest, Edward kissed the top of his head and stroked a hand down his back. Quieting instantly, Christian began to gurgle happily, kicking his little legs and waving his fists.
When he was content once more, Edward looked at her over the baby’s head, asking, "Would you like to hold him?"
Swallowing nervously, she licked her lips. "Okay, just... just let me sit down first." Sitting in the other armchair, opposite Lydia, Darcy shuffled backwards until she was comfortable and then she made a cradle out of her arms for Edward to place the baby in. Her sister was looking at her strangely, but she didn't care; with her and Hope being the youngest members of their family she hadn't had many opportunities to hold a new-born and the last thing she wanted to do was drop him. Placing him in her arms, Edward stepped back as she gazed down at him. Catching one flailing fist, she smiled as tiny fingers curled around one of hers. A little more confident, she shifted her hold, lifting him higher up against her chest. Promptly, the little boy opened his mouth and spewed his most recent meal down the front of her shirt. For a moment it was silent and then Callie started to laugh.
"Oh my God!" Lydia exclaimed in a rush, jumping up from her chair, as Edward took Christian from her, "I'm so sorry, he's been doing that a lot. I'll get you a cloth." Hurrying from the room, Lydia disappeared into the kitchen and appeared a moment later with a dishcloth, which she thrust at her, and a pack of baby wipes.
Whipping out a few as Darcy tried to clean herself up, she wiped her son's mouth and the front of his pale blue baby grow, before clicking her tongue and shaking her head, "I'm going to have to change him." Taking the baby, she glanced over her shoulder as she headed towards the hall, calling out, "Darcy, if you come with me I'll find you something to change into."
True to her word, Lydia provided her with a clean shirt, which she told her she could keep since it had been a little snug on her even before she gained the baby weight. It was pretty and pink and made her feel very girly and glamorous for the first time in a long while, but best of all, it didn't smell like baby vomit. Returning to the living room, after watching Lydia change a dirty nappy, something which made her reconsider her desire for children, they stayed for a little while longer to chat while Christian took his nap, before leaving.
"Wasn't he adorable?" Hope gushed as they walked home, the wind having died down enough that they could actually hear what each other were saying.
"He had a nice set of lungs on him, too," Callie commented.
Laughing, Hope admitted, "I want one!"
"No you don't," both Darcy and Rory exclaimed at the same time.
Grabbing her boyfriend’s arm, Hope grinned up at him. "Alright, well maybe not yet, but one day."
Smiling, Rory conceded, "I think I can agree to that." On Darcy's other side, Will slung his arm over Callie's shoulders and pulled her into his side, snuggling her close as he kissed the top of her head affectionately. A spark of jealousy made her look away; that used to be her and Alec. She missed the easy affection, a kiss here, a touch there. She missed having someone to talk to, even if it was about inconsequential things. She missed having someone to cuddle up to at night, but they hadn't done that in a long time; most nights they slept on opposite sides of the bed, any touch being accidental. That night was no different.
Getting into bed after brushing her teeth, she tucked the covers around her and sat back against the headboard. Alec stood over by the window, looking out over the front yard, with his back to her.
"Are you coming to bed?" she asked softly.
"Huh?" He turned to her with an expression which clearly said he hadn't heard her, "What did you say?"
"Are you coming to bed?" She repeated.
Turning back to the window, he answered over his shoulder, "Not just yet." The storm had reached a new high, the wind buffeting the house, rattling the glass in the windows and making the entire building groan. Alec was worried about falling trees compromising their safety and was watching for just that, she knew, but still his rejection stung. All the same, she simply nodded and snuggled down in bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.
Out in the hall, she could hear Lucy's claws on the laminate flooring as she paced up and own in agitation, whining occasionally and scratch at the door even though the dog knew she wasn't allowed to be upstairs, let alone in the bedrooms. Soft touch that he was, Alec finally went to open the door, letting her in. Immediately, Lucy leapt up onto the bed and curled up beside her, wriggling around until she was comfortable. Settling her head atop her hip, she soon went to sleep, though she continued to twitch and growl in her sleep with every rumble of thunder. Soon after, Darcy was lulled to sleep by the savage lullaby of the storm outside, leaving Alec to his silent vigil.
The next morning they all ventured out together to assess the damage. A few roof tiles lay shattered on the ground around their house and the barbed wire in front of all the gates had been torn loose, but both of those were easily fixed. As was the chicken coup which had lost its roof to the strong winds, though where the chickens had ended up was beyond her, but since there were no carcasses or feathers littering Edward’s lawn she guessed they must have taken refuge nearby and would turn up sooner or later. A shallow rooted beech tree had been knocked down in Mr Johnson's garden, crushing one of the greenhouses, but it was nowhere near the properties walls so it was deemed safe to leave and return to chop into firewood later. Obviously, Mr Johnson huffed and puffed about having it in his garden, calling it an 'ugly monstrosity', but there wasn't much anyone could do about it then and there since they didn't have a chainsaw, or even an axe. Another tree had fallen across the road but again, since it hadn't damaged any walls they didn't give it any immediate attention.
While the boys were replacing the barbed wire, she, Callie and Hope stood off to the side, shoulders hunched against the cold. They had been helping but Mac had gruffly dismissed them when Callie proved that they couldn't be trusted not to cut themselves. So instead they’d cleared the debris from the road and now stood watching. Coming out of her house, Poppy crossed the road towards them, her two charges, both booted and dressed in their waterproofs, running in front of her, laughing gleefully as they splashed and played in the puddles. Having been watching a magpie hop along the fallen tree, Darcy turned to smile at them as they approached, taking a step back to avoid being splashed as Amber jumped into a puddle with both feet, giggling so hysterically that her pigtails bounced.
Coming up beside her, Poppy commented randomly, "One for sorrow, two for joy."
"What?" Darcy frowned.
"That's what my granddad used to say." She nodded towards the scavenging bird, repeating, "One magpie for sorrow, two for joy." Glancing back just in time to see the bird fly away, Darcy shivered, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickling as a feeling of foreboding settled over her. Seeing her unease, Poppy said quickly, "Of course, it's just an old wives tale." However, Darcy caught her worried look as she watched the bird fly up to perch on the highest branch of a tall, skeleton tree at the top of the road, surveying them with beady black eyes.
Chewing her lip anxiously, she turned away, just in time to see Oscar point over to the fallen tree across the road and say, "Uh-oh."
"I know, the trees fallen over, hasn't it?" Poppy hunkered down beside the toddler holding her hands out in an exaggerated shrug, "That's not good, is it?"
"Uh-oh." Oscar insisted and Darcy worried frown slipped into a fond smile. Until she noticed what he was actually talking about. Her feet were running before her brain even had time to realise what was happening. Charlotte had come out of her house and was climbing over the gate.
That wasn't the problem. The problem was the bloodied creature, tangled in barbed wire, which had pulled itself out from behind the fallen tree.
"Charlotte!" She cried, "Get back."
Behind her she heard Alec yell at Poppy to "Get the kids out of here." And then he and Rory overtook her, their longer legs propelling them forward. But it was too late.
With a heart of gold, Charlotte edged closer to the creature, sympathy for the wounded, whimpering animal writ clear across her face. Reaching out a tiny hand, she brushed the tangled red hair back from its face and for a moment nothing happened, as if the creature were simply accepting the comfort as it died. But then, a bony hand shot out to wrap around her wrist, holding the terrified child steady as it heaved itself up and leaned forward until their lips were a bare inch apart.
"Charlotte!" Rory screamed his sister’s name, running impossibly faster even as the rest of them slowed in appalled shock as black smoke transferred from one to the other, smothering the child as it bled into her mouth and nostrils, writhing and twisting like a snake.
In the next moment both bodies collapsed to the ground, one going limp in the peaceful throws of death, the other going manic with the stiff, jerky movements which proceeded the change. Tackling Rory, Alec struggled to keep him from getting closer, but he was strong for a gangly teenager and it took both Alec and Will to hold him back. Will got an elbow in the lip, Alec a kick in the gut.
"Charlotte!" Rory continued to yell as he struggled to get free. He got no response until, slowly, after what seemed like a lifetime, she sat up and her head swivelled to face them. A pair of glassy white eyes fixed on Rory. Instantly he stopped struggling and went silent.
"Oh my God..." Hope whispered behind her. At her side, Callie reached out to grip her sleeve. No one knew quite what to do, so they all just stood there. Even when she stood, taking a step towards them, one hand extended, no one moved. Lips curling into a creepy smile, her muscles bunched as she prepared to pounce, shoulders curving forward ever so slightly. The next second she sprung. Darcy's eyes widened, but that was all she had time to do.
Bang.
A gun went off. The sound reverberated around the houses. Charlotte's body was propelled backwards. For a brief second surprise widened her eyes and Darcy swore she saw them flicker back to their usual colour. A flash of pure, innocent blue. A neat, round dot appeared in the centre of her forehead. Brain and other matter splattered the pavement. A scream rent the air. The child's body hit the ground... dead. No black smoke billowed from her mouth; the creature had been given no time to escape and had died along with his host. Rushing down the front path, Joanne flung herself at the closed gate, arms reaching through the bars, hands grabbing at thin air in her desperation.
"My baby," she wailed, tears beginning to pour down her face, "my baby..." Looking shell-shocked, Rory sat cross legged on the pavement, staring numbly at his sister’s limp body as Hope attempted to comfort him. Clinging to the bars, Joanne also sunk to the ground, overcome as realisation struck her, weeping inconsolably, her sophisticated facade completely abandoned as she broke down. Likewise, Will slowly made his way over to the body of his own sister, tangled in barbed wire, her delicate skin grubby and ripped to shred. Gently brushing the tangled hair back from her face, he leant down to press a farewell kiss against her cold cheek. Tears welling in her own eyes, Darcy turned, swallowing the lump forming in her throat, to watch Mac lower the gun.
"What have you done?" She whispered as a single tear slid down her cheek.
"It had to be done."
Pressing her lips together, she shook her head angrily. "I can't believe you. Have you no heart? Look at them!" Her voice rose as she gestured wildly to Rory and his mother.
