Abigail Jones (Chronicles of Abigail Jones #1) (33 page)

FORTY-ONE

News travelled fast to the village. By the time we arrived at the Lamb and Flag, the street was crowded with curious onlookers despite the late hour. Ignoring them, I helped Ginny and Edgar to their rooms. The village physician arrived shortly. Leaving them in his good hands, I made sure to have food and drink sent up. Then I asked the innkeeper to call for a hackney. He did as I asked, and within a quarter hour I was climbing into a well-travelled coach.

As I bumped against the thin cushions, I heard a crackling noise like parched leaves underfoot. Remembering, I reached into my cloak pocket and withdrew the packet of letters. I held them in my palm, their weight so insignificant, and yet Mrs. Beecher had died to save them. To preserve the memory of love found and dreams lost. My throat thickened. Undoing the twine that bound the yellowing folds together, I scanned the familiar, precise loops of Aunt Agnes' script.

9 March 1856

My dearest Rebecca,

As always, when spring arrives I think of you. The hope of renewal is ever bright within me; yet I know you think my dream cannot be so. Thus I wait, full of impatience for the time when your mind blossoms into possibility (though, I daresay, you will prune it soon enough with that pragmatism of yours!). But never mind: I write not to unearth old arguments, but to share with you tidings of the year past.

Little Abby, how she has grown. She is thirteen now, a serious thing more like me than my sister, her own flesh-and-blood mother. Yet though Abby's temperament is steady, I fear my sister's weakness is growing within her. I cannot speak more of it; I can only say every family has its cross to bear, and I pray that Abby can withstand her burden with greater fortitude than poor Patricia did.

But you know me, Rebecca: I do more than pray. I have been instilling all the best protections I know of
—
a learned mind, a moral heart
—
and my dear girl absorbs all like a sponge. My heart is full when I think of her; something of her quiet strength reminds me of you and makes the loneliness a little easier to endure. You would like her, I think, and I cannot relinquish the hope that one day we three shall meet.

Affectionately yours,

Agnes

I blew my nose. I had always thought Aunt Agnes a woman of fiercely independent spirit, and while that was so, I ached to realize that her solitude had not been entirely chosen. As I read on, I gleaned that she and Mrs. Beecher had parted ways because they could not negotiate a way to be together. Mrs. Beecher wanted them to continue as domestics beneath a shared roof, their feelings hidden yet their time together real and abiding.

My aunt, on the other hand, wanted freedom. She dreamed of living her life on her own terms, openly and without shame. Reading between the lines, I knew also the sacrifice she made for me. At times, when her loneliness was too great, she thought to join Mrs. Beecher in a household—but what of me? With my affliction, she had to keep me safe, insulated from the dangers of strange objects and people. She could not risk my coming to the same end as my mother, her beloved sister.

So she gave up her own happiness, for my sake. She surrendered her own future in order to give me mine. The closing of her last letter brought a poignant burn to my throat.

...
So many years have passed since we last saw each other, Rebecca
—
in my mind it was only yesterday you wore a peony upon your breast, the bloom of youth yet more beautiful upon your cheek. But time has passed; we are both older. And dreams, though un-relinquished, grow duller with the tarnish of the years.

I have only one hope left, and that is to see Abby safe after I am gone. That time is not too far off, I fear. Dear friend, may I ask this last thing of you? To keep an eye on Abigail for me, to guide her with your wise and loving heart. I have many regrets in this life, and you, my cherished Rebecca, figure in too many of them. The one regret I do
not
have, however, is having known love. There is no sacrifice too great, no pain I would not endure, in its blessed name. It will be in my heart when I pass from this earth; thoughts of you and Abigail will lift me with gratitude and peace.

Forever yours,

Agnes

These letters were my aunt's final gift to me. Moisture splattered onto the fragile paper as I understood at last what love was. Something worth living and dying for.

*****

Too soon, I arrived at my destination. As the hackney rattled away, I stared up at the magnificent gray walls of the cathedral rising high into the night. The medieval Abbey was a place of sanctuary that countless before me had visited to worship—or to find a miracle. As I entered through the door, I understood why. I looked upward into the stone vaults which stretched so high above me; I looked forward through the nave, its ten elegant bays, all the way to the chancel and the breathtaking altar. Even at a distance, I could see the screen of ornate sculpture, the fabric of rich scarlet and gilt, and the holiness of the windows which seemed to reach into the heavens above.

In such a hallowed presence, I felt my smallness, and for once it comforted me. I knew now that I was not alone. Loneliness and fear fell away. My aunt's words illuminated my heart, and all the love I had ever known surged through my veins. I felt the warmth of my mother's cross against my neck, the weight of Hux's kisses upon my lips, and I knew a strange and wondrous peace. This was the place to meet my destiny. The time, too, whilst the enemy was weakened by her recent assault on Hope End.

As if it had sensed the turmoil to come, the Abbey had emptied itself. My steps were the only sound as I made my way down the deserted nave. I noticed the luminous medieval drawings along the sides of the walls and the elegant checked stone over the arches. All of the details flashed through my mind as I advanced calmly to the heart of the building. To the place where legend had St. Alban, Britain's first martyr, giving his life for a greater cause.

Stopping before the altar, I dropped to my knees. I said a quick prayer, my heart quickening despite the calmness of my soul. I thought once more of all those who had loved me, and I was filled with immeasurable gratitude. With my eyes raised heavenward, I reached to my neck. My fingers grasped hold of the amulet which had protected me for two and twenty years. I could feel its energy even now, the invisible light that had buoyed me through countless sorrows.

In one fluid motion, I pulled it over my head and let it drop to the ground beside me.

Laid bare to Lilith, I waited.

FORTY-TWO

I sensed her arrival. The air around me began to stir with disturbed energy. Color bled from the stained glass, the panes darkening into the pitch of night. On the altar, the row of votives leapt in agitation. The smell drifted to me, sweet and acrid burning, and I knew she was not far off. A humming began in my ears, quietly at first, and then growing in volume and timbre. It blossomed into a clear soprano, a voice so beautiful that my eyes welled, and it enraptured me, called to me as a mother calls to her lost child.

An irresistible longing swept through me.

Footsteps echoed against the stone. She was a dark figure, cloaked in shadow. As she came toward me, the darkness around her seemed to grow, a pulsing black aura which fed off light and turned it into swirling ash. The ground trembled with her advance. Grabbing hold of the necklace, I slipped it once more around my neck. The cross settled against the hollow of my throat, and the familiar hum of energy steadied me for confrontation. Her floating, mocking voice seeped into my head.

"You do not stay kneeling before your mother?"

I stared at the form before me. Though the top half was hidden by a velvet hood, her face nonetheless exuded unearthly beauty. Lips of ruby gleamed against luminescent white skin. She laughed, and I saw the pointed incisors, pearly and glistening.

"After all these years of hide-and-seek, and nothing to say for yourself," she said. "For shame. What am I to do with you, my naughty girl? What punishment would fit a crime such as yours?"

Though chilling, her words pulled at me like fingers plucking at a harp. Every fiber of my being seemed to respond to her, in yearning and in fear.

Taking a shaky breath, I said, "I have committed no crime against you, Lilith."

"Tsk, tsk," she responded, as if reprimanding an errant child. "Lying will only make it worse for you. Give it back, little girl, before I rip it from your throat."

My fingers went to the necklace, closed instinctively around it. "Why do you want it so badly, Lilith? What power does this cross possess for you?"

Her teeth bared suddenly, the hood blowing from her face. Her otherworldly splendor struck me with the force of a gale. I stumbled back a few steps, my arm raising to shield my eyes. Tonight she inhabited a form of glowing camellia skin and shining ebony hair. I'd thought that her recent carnage of Hope End might diminish her strength. All hope of that evaporated as she hovered above the ground, her features radiant, her eyes amber suns ringed with fire.

"You dare question me?" she hissed. "Like a thief in the night, your ancestor stole what was mine. She took from her own mother—she betrayed my blood, all that I had given to her. And for what? To lay on her back for that disgusting filth. To stay hidden from me, so that she could bear the sickly fruit of his weak seed and be enslaved to his mortal will. My disgraced daughter," she spat, "who gave up a goddess' immortality to be with a man. And you, offspring of that repulsive union, you will give me back what she took."

My mind struggled to process Lilith's words, to put them together with what I knew already from my visions. "My ancestor stole the cross so that you could not find her. She could sense you—but you could not track her. She passed the necklace to her children so that we would remain safe from you. Having made the choice to love," I said with sudden realization, "she did not want her children hunted by evil."

"Love." Lilith's eyes flared a livid yellow. "What is a man's love? It is
nothing
. Less than a word, less than the dust from which he was made. A mother's love—
that
is everything. I gave her life—and I will take it back tonight."

"Why do you want the necklace? Why does it mean so much to you?"

"
Enough.
"

The force of her fury whipped all around me. Her hair sprang into the air like a thousand angry snakes. Hissing, slashing, frenzied for blood. As I stood there, paralyzed with fear, her white hands waved in a circle; a gleaming black box appeared, suspended magically in the air.  As its lid flipped open, I could see an alien script rippling along the box's scarlet innards.

"Put it in," her voice boomed. "Give me back what is mine—or perish a slow and painful death."

Against my will, my fingers twitched against the delicate chain. A deep, instinctive part of me lurched, eager for her command. Poised for it, as a babe's lips before her mother's breast. Swallowing, I slowly shook my head. "I will not give it you. At least, not without something in return. 'Tis an exchange I wish to discuss."

"An
exchange
?" I did not think her rage could grow, and yet she seemed to inflate with it. All the shadows flew to her. Her aura spread, surrounding me in a whirlpool of darkness. She loomed over me, her gleaming lips stretched into a terrifying smile. "You think to bargain with me? Me, who gave you life, who with less than a snap of my fingers could take it away?"

Heart hammering, I slipped the chain from my neck and let the amulet dangle from my fingers. Her eyes latched upon the swinging cross. "If I give this to you, I want your vow not to harm any more people. I want you to swear you and your Lilin will leave this earth and not hurt Hux nor anyone else so long as you live. All of this I want on your word as a goddess."

"You dare to name terms with me? I am Queen of the all the dark forces, and you are a lowly mortal. You are
nothing
."

Raging winds whipped around me, stinging me with debris, but I did not flinch. "I am Abigail Jones," I said, "and I come from love."

"Insolent girl! I will kill you," Lilith snarled, "and then I will take back what is mine."

Taking a deep breath and more than a gamble, I met her scorching gaze. "Go ahead, then. Do your worst."

Her scream rose to the rafters, shaking the wooden planks. The stones shook in their mortar, and all the candles extinguished at once.

But I remained unharmed. I knew then that my hunch was correct. She could not hurt me. No as long as I had contact with the necklace.

"You cannot take it from me, can you?" I held it up higher, pushing the tiny golden cross up toward her. She cringed, a small instinctive movement that told me everything. "You cannot even touch it. That is why you want
me
to put it in there." Jerking my chin at the floating box, I guessed, "That writing, on the inside. It's some sort of magic, isn't it? Some sort of protection to guard you from the cross."

As I spoke, I felt the kindling aura of the necklace. Its golden glow began to seep into my skin and radiate from my palm. Lilith shrieked, her darkness fading. The winds began to die, and she shrank into her original form, her eyes darting to and fro. The light filled me, sparkling from within my skin, spilling radiance into the gloom. The gilded waves lapped against the demon's skirt, and I saw the fabric curl and wisp into nothingness.

"Get it away," Lilith cried, retreating a step.

"You know the necklace's power," I said, following her. "For you wore it once. You bear its mark."

"The cursed thing!" Lilith's beautiful eyes brimmed with tears, and one hand fluttered to the small, pink mark at the base of her throat. "'Twas a slave's collar snapped around my neck. He used it to enslave me—he used it to dim my power. Our power, my dearest daughter. He tried to take it all away."

"Who?"

"Who do you think?" Lilith's gaze directed heavenward, then narrowed. "He's afraid of me, of the Goddess' strength. Don't let his holiness fool you—he wants to control you, control all of his creation. You are nothing but an underling to him."

"That is not true. God is loving and kind," I said.

Lilith's lips curled. "If that is true, why did he let your mother die alone and despised in an asylum for the insane? Why did he let you grow up a bastard? Why did he let your Aunt Agnes die, without knowing the freedom of living in her lover's arms?"

Her words pelted me with uncertainty. I felt my outstretched arm growing heavy; the cross trembled with my fatigue. "He ... he works in mysterious ways."

"Mysterious." Lilith laughed, her voice a silken caress down my spine. "Dear child, don't tell me you still believe
that
old line. Men have been using it for centuries. To oppress
us
, my daughter. To justify their fear of us."

"Wh-why would men fear us?"

Her sweet, seductive scent snaked around my senses. "Because we are the True Creators. We are the ones to bear life. That is why they want us on our backs, to use us as submissive animals to breed at their will. But we are not. We are Goddesses, and we will take our own pleasure. We will be the ones to dominate."

"I don't want—"

"Don't you?" Her lashes lowered coyly. "Don't you want to make love to your beloved Hux? Don't you want to have that succulent body at your bidding?"

Her voice slithered into my head, releasing intimate images. The muscles of Hux's back gleaming in the sunlight. The hollowed leanness of his hips. And between his thighs, the turgid abundance, that fleshy shaft made to fit perfectly inside ...

"Ah, you like to have that in your quim, don't you? You like to take your pleasure from his cock. That is your Lilin fire, my darling, your Mother's gift. Pleasure without shame. Ecstasy without restraint. No one to tell you what you can and cannot do."

My intimate muscles fluttered, my breath quickening with arousal. To have Hux whenever I wished, however I wanted, mine forever ...

"Freedom is your birthright," she purred. "Claim it, take it."

I felt Hux, large and quivering beneath me. I saw myself climbing atop him, my hands spanning over tough sinew, hard muscle and flesh designed for my pleasure. Rubbing myself against him, I moaned with delight. I leaned over to kiss him, his blue eyes melting into mine, and then I plunged him inside me. I gasped, the thrill of it beyond anything. The pure joy of taking him, of slaking myself in unfettered rhythm, of directing our passion. Harder, faster, no limits at all ...

Lilith's face glowed with a mother's pride. "All you have to do is rid yourself of the wretched chains. Free yourself from submissive morality, and together we will create a new world."

Floating beneath my hand, the open box beckoned like a hungry mouth.
Give it me
, it whispered.
Let me relieve you of your burden
.

The cross was so heavy, my arm so tired.

I felt my hand lowering, my grasp on the necklace slackening.

"Abigail, no!"

Hux's voice snapped me back to reality. Snatching back the cross, I whirled to see him running toward us. The sword glowed white silver in his hand.

Lilith growled, and the box vanished into black smoke. "Insolent little flea! You dare to intrude upon a mother's tender reunion? I will take care of you once and for all."
            She flew at him, a rage of darkness pitching against light. Screaming, I ran after her, only to see the two of them collide, the power of that crash blasting the air with energy. I flew backward and landed on my side. Black lines danced before my eyes. Dazed, I struggled to sit up. I saw Hux and Lilith facing off between the pews. He slashed at the hair hissing through the air; he deflected the fiery beams of her eyes with his mirror-bright blade. Her face veined with rage, Lilith let loose a howl that sent Hux flying backward into a pillar.

"You test my patience," she snarled. Ropes of hair lashed around his torso, binding him to the stone post. Struggling, Hux tried to raise his sword, but he could not move his arms from his sides. Her hair imprisoned him, blood trickling where the strands garroted his flesh.

Lilith advanced toward him, her hands raised. "I should have killed you years ago. I let you live so that I could enjoy your suffering, but now you have become a nuisance. Now it is time for you to die."

"You first, bitch."

With a sudden blaze, the sword in Hux's hand lit a glowing blue. Spikes of light catapulted outward from the blade, striking Lilith in the face and chest. She staggered back, her yowls shattering the glass in the windows. Coming to my senses, I ran toward them.

Lilith raised her head. Dark rivulets oozed where the light had pierced her, and her eyes burned yellow in her torn face. "You will pay for that," she purred.

Holding up her arms, she chanted syllables of an ancient language. A dark ball grew between her hands; the swirling smoke and black energy pulsated and crackled with malevolence. As if in slowed time, I watched that fatal missile fly from her palms. I saw the spreading smirk upon her red lips as death hurtled keenly, inexorably toward my beloved.

"
No
," I shouted.

Love is the most powerful protection of all, Abigail.

My aunt's voice broke through my panic. Guided by instinct, by the necklace burning in my hand, I ran toward Lilith. I flung the golden chain over her head.

The cross landed at the base of her throat, upon the scar. There was a clicking, like a key inserted into a lock. Lilith's eyes widened; the flame within them suddenly extinguished. Pulse pounding, I saw the black ball vaporize into nothingness just inches from Hux. All around, the demonic aura began to fade, absorbing into the still stones of the Abbey.

Lilith screeched as she looked upon herself. The injuries upon her skin closed as she shrank to a form purely human. Her hair fell to her sides, long and limp and harmless.

"What have you done to me?" she cried.

I was already racing toward Hux.

"Are you alright?" The words flew from our lips simultaneously.

Shaking, I clutched at his arms, his face, afraid to believe that he was unharmed.

"God, Abigail," he rasped, "Don't you
ever
scare me like that again. If I have to, I'll chain you to my side, but you are never leaving my sight again."

Overjoyed to hear that familiar arrogant tone, I buried my head into his chest. His fingers tangled fiercely in my hair as I listened to his thundering heartbeat. Too soon, he pulled away.

"There is something I must finish first," he said.