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Chapter Twenty-Seven

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When Thomas drove the coach through the castle gates, the snow was no longer falling. Winds during the night had blown a good portion of the snow off the road. The sun peeked at the top of the mountainside, presenting a pastel sky of reds, purples, and pinks. I was ecstatic that we were on our way.

Flora had made me uneasy. Vampires could compel most mortals, but a beautiful vampire held a stronger seduction, drawing unsuspecting victims to her by enticing their lusts first. Even at a young age, I realized people tended to judge others upon first glance, and often the plain common folk were quickly ignored while our interests were drawn to those with unnatural beauty and charisma. Sadly, some people sacrificed their dearest possessions in their pursuit of obtaining what they believed to be the perfect spouse; only to later find themselves wallowing in sorrow when they realized what was on the surface was far more beautiful than the monster contained within.

Flora was dangerous, and probably had been so before she had been turned, using her looks and charm to obtain the things she desired without question or argument. As a vampire she could influence others to do her bidding for hundreds of years, provided she wasn’t slain well beforehand.

Father cleared his throat and adjusted himself in his seat. I tossed him the pouch of coins. He caught the pouch, frowned, and shook it in his hand. The sound of jostling coins brought a curious hopeful smile to his face. “What is this?”

“He gave us one hundred marks.”

His mouth dropped in awe.

“You know what this means, don’t you Father?”

“What?”

“Regardless of whether or not I’ve made the right decision in slaying Ambrose for Lorcan, there’s no declining the offer now.”

Penelope leaned her head against my shoulder. “His daughter seems more unpredictable than he is. I don’t care if she did deny it, but she views demons as pets. She has a fetish for them. A vampire who holds affection for demons is quite unsettling. She has eight plague demons in her possession. Do you realize how great a threat that is to the population of neighboring towns and cities?”

“You think she’d use them to infect a city?” I asked.

“Don’t you? Imagine how she could blackmail a king or queen into giving her whatever she wanted. If they denied her, she could use one demon to prove her point and keep the other seven in reserve.”

I hadn’t considered that. Manipulation was the agenda of most ruling vampires, and Flora definitely fit that mold. Mentally, she had a passion to watch others suffer. It wouldn’t have surprised me to learn that the torture devices were toys she used on peasants whenever she became bored.

But Penelope was right. Flora could choose whatever city she desired and claim it for her own. She had been the only one of the six that we had met, and if she were the least dangerous of Lorcan’s children, I couldn’t imagine what Philip had faced when he had fought for his life. The others had conveniently excused themselves from our presence, which I considered more intimidating because it left us wondering about their true nature. All we really knew about them was what the paintings on the wall revealed.

Frowning, I said, “Once we reach Freiburg, won’t these demons that Albert sent after Thomas dissolve or return to wherever he had summoned them from?”

“We can hope but at this point, there’s no way to know. If she’s completely bound them to the circle in the pit, she now controls them.”

Father shook his head. “What she could do with those demons is more frightening than the turmoil most vampires cause, if she chooses to use them to spread the plague.”

“I agree. But we don’t have time to concern ourselves over that just yet. We’re a day and a half’s journey from Freiburg. If what Lorcan says is true, then we don’t have to worry ourselves with the plague demons. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to worry about other Hunters trying to get Varak before we hand him over to the archbishop.”

Madeline leveled a frightened stare at me while hugging the child tightly. The boy cooed and giggled, as innocently like any child his age would. How I wished I were able to see ahead in time to know what this child would become, so I could feel more at ease. My mind was torn between hope and sorrowful regret, as I longed to keep the world safer. But I knew I couldn’t allow harm to come to Varak while he was in our possession. Once Varak was at the Archdiocese, I was released of my oath and hoped that in the future I didn’t need to rectify the situation, but I knew in the back of my mind my worries would continue to linger.

With a broad smile, Father stacked the gold coins in his hand.

I rubbed my burning eyes and yawned. The coach rocked steadily, making it more difficult to stay awake. “I’m going to get some sleep since it will be several hours before we stop.”

Father stared at the coins, not hearing a single word I had said. I shrugged and leaned against the wall. Penelope lay against me and placed her arm around my waist. The warmth the coach had absorbed from being stored inside Lorcan’s stables was being drawn away by the winter’s frosty grasp, in much the same way Death sucked the last fragments of life from a dying man or woman. I pulled a blanket over us to fight the chill that was building inside the coach, and I surrendered to sleep.

***

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My sleep had been uneventful. No dreams or nightmares came, and thankfully, no attempts from Lorcan to venture into my mind had occurred either. Perhaps he could keep his word, but only time would tell.

Nightfall had settled. I rubbed my eyes and shook my head. I was still groggy. Father held a small lantern and sat at the window. He pulled the curtain aside and looked outside.

“I’ve slept through the entire day?” I asked.

He nodded. “I’m surprised you never awakened yourself with all your raucous snoring. I’d have stuffed cotton in my ears if I’d had some.”

“I was snoring?”

“Like a giant bear.” Penelope playfully jabbed me with her elbow. “You kept me from sleeping.”

Father smiled. “Her snoring wasn’t as loud as yours, son, but she was trying hard to complete.”

“What?” she asked. “I don’t snore.”

“Yes, young lady, you do,” Father said.

I stared out the window. “Why are we still traveling?”

“My guess is that Thomas wants to get to Freiburg as quickly as possible. He’s only stopped a few times to feed and water the horse.”

“Even after the demons have been bound, he’s reluctant to stay the night elsewhere?” I asked.

“Do you place full confidence in her claim that she will keep them bound?”

I sighed. “Not really, but he’s going to freeze to death.”

“Death comes to us all eventually, son. I’d rather freeze to death than die from the plague.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t always get to choose our time of death or how we die. I suppose it’s best not to know, but some forewarning would be nice,” I said.

He nodded. “And sometimes you survive against incredible odds. You live when you should have died.”

I knew he was talking about his own near death experience.

“Get Thomas’ attention,” I said.

Father turned and hammered his fist against the top of the coach. Thomas shouted, “Whoa!”

A few seconds after the coach stopped, Thomas opened the door.

“Are we not stopping for the night?” I asked.

“We are approximately a half hour from reaching Freiburg,” he replied.

“So soon?”

He smiled. “I have kept the horse at a faster gait. The road has been better than what it was during the previous few days. Less snow, so the extra speed shouldn’t stress him. We’re almost there.”

A sense of relief passed through me. It was good this part of our journey was coming to an end. “Great news. Press on.”

Thomas smiled and closed the door. A few seconds later, he shrieked. The volume of his terrified screams decreased as something dragged him into the forest.

Penelope grabbed her bow and flung open the door, but Thomas was nowhere in sight. I opened my Hunter box, searched through the contents, and stuffed various items into my coat pockets. With a stake in one hand and my loaded crossbow in the other, I squeezed through the door and stepped onto the icy road.

“Where is he?” I asked.

She shook her head and whispered, “I don’t know.”

“Demons?”

“I don’t sense any.”

The horse shuffled his feet back and forth, making nervous whinnies. His eyes were wide.

Penelope took her night spectacles and separated the lenses, handing me one of them.

Faint moonlight spilled overhead, cascading downward through the firs and leafless deciduous trees. Snarls came from the shadowed recesses within the trees. I stepped around Penelope to shield her while scanning the trees with the night goggle lens. Whatever had taken him had carried him behind the larger trees out of sight.

“Thomas!” I shouted, holding the stake tightly to my side.

“Is that really a good idea?” she asked.

“Be ready,” I whispered.

“For what?” She took her half of the spectacles and used the long leather strap to tie and secure it against her right eye.

“A werewolf,” I replied.

She pulled an arrow from her quiver and lined it up on her bow. “Will an arrow kill it?”

“No, but it causes a great deal of pain. Aim for a vulnerable spot.”

“Like what exactly?”

“An eye or the throat.”

“And that won’t kill it?”

“No. It’s difficult to kill a were creature.”

Thomas wailed in agony. Claws slashed through him, making wet sloppy sounds. He was silent in an instant. He was dead.

Anger pulsed through me. For all Thomas had endured to reach Freiburg and to come this close, a werewolf killed him. Since Jacques was a werewolf, I tended to be more permissive and not view them as enemies. However, after meeting Ulrich I understood that not all werewolves were affable toward the human population or even to those they once considered to be a part of their pack.

“Thomas is dead,” I whispered.

“That’s what I feared.” Her voice crackled.

“Whatever happens, do not get bitten or scratched,” I said. “Or you’ll become all hairy.”

“Does that mean you’d like me less?”

“It would change things quite a bit for both of us.”

Branches snapped on the other side of the coach. Thomas had been killed in the forest on this side of the road. “There’s more than one.”

“I heard the footsteps, too,” she said. She turned and pressed her back against mine. “You watch that side and I’ll watch this one.”

The horse stamped its feet. I couldn’t see where these creatures were or their advancement. Deep breaths came from the edge of the trees ahead of me, but this creature blended in with the darkness quite well.

I pressed the lens firmly against my eye and squinted to hold it like an ocular. I held the crossbow ahead of me, waiting for the slightest movement that helped pinpoint its location.

Father eased the coach door open. “Is everything okay out there?”

“Close the door,” I whispered. “Thomas is dead.”

He leaned forward and looked out. “Dead? How?”

“Werewolves,” Penelope said softly.

Father eased the door closed.

“See anything?” I whispered.

She didn’t reply. Her arm pressed against my back and the bowstring twung! A fierce growl softened to painful yelps, moaning and crying. “The eye is a soft spot.”

The beast I faced growled and leapt from the shadows. It was massive and muscular, almost the size of a small bear. It charged, growling. I fired the crossbow, striking its upper thigh. It roared from the pain. The arrow slowed the creature’s pace slightly, but it kept coming toward me, snarling and raising its sharp-clawed hands, ready to slice through me. Nothing heightened the anger of a werewolf like a painful injury.

I dropped the crossbow and pulled my revolver from my coat pocket, firing three rapid shots into its chest when only one was necessary. The werewolf dropped and spasmed on the road before stiffening in death.

I turned and nearly knocked Penelope down. I didn’t realize how close she was standing to me. Her wide eyes stared at the one she had shot with her bow. I walked toward it. It was writhing on the road with an arrow protruding from its eye. It was so preoccupied trying to pry out the arrow that it never even noticed my approach. I aimed and fired one silver bullet into its forehead, ending its struggle permanently.

The smell of burnt gunpowder wafted on the air. The gunshots echoed deep into the forest, reverberating for miles.

“They’re dead?” she asked.

“Yes. I used silver bullets. Automatically guarantees the death of werewolves.” I listened for more movement along the forest floor but heard nothing. “Any other werewolves out here? I have more silver bullets if you’d like your fate to be like theirs. Show yourselves!”

Four sets of footsteps scrambled away from the road, all running in different directions. With their keen sense of smell and hearing, they had no doubt witnessed the death of these two on the road. Mostly likely one of the two I had killed was an alpha. Both could be alphas if one was male and the other female, but in this darkness, I wasn’t about to check. Since one of them had killed Thomas, I really didn’t care to know. Both deserved death and if any of the others returned, I’d shoot them without hesitation.