Belmary House Book Three (4 page)

Read Belmary House Book Three Online

Authors: Cassidy Cayman

BOOK: Belmary House Book Three
6.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

They hid out in a tower room that had been converted into a charming, but sparsely furnished guest room. Piper’s big Highlander husband, Lachlan Ferguson, took up most of the room, his shoulder length raven black hair a tangled mess from repeatedly running his hands through it during their jumbled phone conversation with a girl from the village, who Evie had explained was the live-in housekeeper at the castle, and also a medical student. She supposed it was better than nothing if Emma was as sick as they made out, and her cousin’s desperate voice told her they weren’t exaggerating her condition.

It had been about fifteen minutes since Lachlan alerted them that Solomon Wodge had entered the house, seeing it from his post on the tower walkway. He’d barricaded the door as he’d been instructed and they were all crammed into the room, surrounded by various old and new weapons, including Ashford’s gun. For once she was sorry he didn’t have it on him, but Liam and Piper had both been adamant in doing it their way.

As for Tilly, she couldn’t pretend anymore that she hoped Solomon could be redeemed. She wanted him out of her and Ashford’s life. His presence made Ashford think his life was too dangerous for her, and he was always talking about getting her back home to her own time, and to safety. Well, she was home in her proper time, but she fully planned on returning with Ashford, whenever and wherever he went. And that would be a lot easier without a crazed killer constantly after them.

Now she looked at Piper’s best friend Evie, a tall, gorgeous red-haired woman, who was as frazzled as she was pretty. She blinked rapidly and pressed her lips together, clearly not knowing what to do. They’d been warned how dangerous Wodge was, and were supposed to stay in the tower until collected. But none of the three felt confident, seeing right through Liam’s, Piper’s, and Ashford’s display of bravado. Nobody felt good about the outcome of this fight, or why else would they have an arsenal in here with them? And if all these weapons and Lachlan’s great size were no match for the fearsomely powerful Wodge, why did they have to stay hidden in the first place? They were either finished or they weren’t.

Tilly tried to get that point across, firmly on the side of running downstairs and stopping whatever was going on, at least until they could get answers about Emma’s condition. Dex’s terrified voice kept ringing in her ears and she felt awful that no one was giving him any answers.

“I canna let ye do it, lass,” Lachlan said, looking down at her with his mesmerizing dark blue eyes. “It’s dangerous, and Piper will skin me for it.”

“I think she’s right,” Evie said, causing him to stand and pace the two steps the room would allow, turning to glare at them both.

“Ye canna do this to me, Evie,” he said. “Can ye not just do as ye’re told for once? Ye shouldna even be here.” He scowled at her and added ruthlessly, “Think of your children.”

Evie gave him a filthy look for that low blow and seemed like she might change her mind in supporting Tilly. Tilly decided she didn’t need their support or their permission. She eyed Lachlan up and down, wondering if he’d physically restrain her if she tried to leave.

“Look, we know that if they get the chance, they’re going to end Wodge. Does anyone here really think he’s going to apologize for killing all the countless people he already has, and then change his ways? No? Nobody? So, we need to stop them from doing that, at least until we get answers about whatever he did to Emma.”

“It’s probably a curse,” Lachlan said, shaking his head sadly. “I wish I could be down there to squash the wee bugger myself.”

“Piper will really skin you if you do,” Evie said, slumping into a straight back chair. She shoved aside an axe and rested her elbows on the small writing desk.

“Please, are you still there?” Dex’s voice cried from the middle of the bed. “You have to do something, she’s having a seizure now.”

They turned to look at the source of the voice, forgetting for a moment during their argument that he was still on the phone. He was actually crying now, and his sobs tore at Tilly’s heart. She knew how much he liked his boss, Emma Saito. The poor woman had been trapped in the wrong time for a year and a half while Ashford waited for a portal opening to rescue her. Tilly didn’t think Ashford would be able to live with himself if it ended with her dying from some wretched curse by the wretched Wodge.

“I’m going down there,” she said, picking up the axe and quickly dropping it when she realized she’d never make it down the stairs under its cumbersome weight.

She spied Ashford’s gun and got the familiar sick prickling feeling along her skin. Ever since she’d cathartically told Ashford about her father’s suicide and her resultant loathing of guns, she’d been better able to deal with him carrying his weapon, and she’d liked the security of knowing he was able to protect them if need be, but the thought of having to deal with the thing herself after so many years of avoiding them made all her old fears and memories rush forward. Her stomach churned at the thought of gripping the handle and the thought of possibly squeezing the trigger made her almost blind with terror. She’d had to learn to use a gun when she’d tried to become a cop, lifetimes ago, and it hadn’t gone well. It was a fear she’d never got past, no matter how hard she tried. Now, she didn’t think she had a choice. She couldn’t carry Lachlan’s huge axe, she didn’t stand a chance with any of the assortment of knives or swords, and the long bow? She didn’t even know why they’d brought it up with them.

Taking a deep breath, she closed the distance between herself and the firearm. It couldn’t have been three feet but it felt like it took an hour to reach it, and her heart pumped wildly as she focused on it. She stared at the black, glistening metal and pushed away every thought except one. Ashford. He was downstairs with a madman who could do powerful magic, and didn’t have a weapon. He certainly didn’t have any magical powers of his own for defense. What nonsense was that, and why had he agreed to leave it behind? She needed to get to him, find a way to protect him and save Emma. Wrapping her hand carefully around the barrel, she picked it up and held it out, upside down, trying to calm her erratic breathing.

“I’m going down there,” she repeated, daring them with a look to try and stop her.

A faint smile twitched at the corner of Lachlan’s mouth and she realized she must look far from menacing, holding the gun with two fingers by its barrel. She swallowed up the last of her fears, firmly shutting a door on them once and for all, and held the gun the way she’d been trained. She checked the safety and the clip and nodded, looking back to see he now knew she was serious.

“I’m going, too,” Evie said.

“No,” Lachlan replied. “Not without me, ye’re not.” He picked up the axe as if it was a cotton swab and tucked it in his belt. He picked up the phone. “Mellie, lass, do your best for her. We’ll call ye when we have some answers.”

He ended the call and handed the phone to Evie, then looked resolutely at the chairs he’d piled in front of the door to block them in. He shook his head and began pulling them out of the way.

“God help us,” he said.

***

Ashford watched in awe as the ball of white light held Solomon motionless, suspended several inches from the ground. He tentatively moved his outstretched hands a little to the left, and the whole thing moved along with it. The intense anger he felt seconds before turned to fear. He didn’t have a clue what was going on.

“I knew it,” cackled Liam. “I could see how strong you were. I could see it.”

“That’s enough,” Piper said irritably, regaining control now that she was no longer under the painful hex Solomon had cast on them. “Can you hold him?” she asked Ashford.

Ashford shrugged, causing Solomon to bounce slightly. “I have no idea.” As he spoke, he noticed the light faltered, so he clamped his lips together, determined not to speak anymore until they figured out what to do.

She frowned, but walked close to him, stopping just outside the glow of white light. She waved her hand around it, and turned back to Ashford. “It’s cold,” she marveled. When Liam stepped forward she thrust out her hand to hold him back. “Enough. There’s not going to be any revenge killings today, do you hear me? We need to figure out what to do with him while he’s immobilized. I can try and think of this spell … I did it accidentally once. I’m not really sure exactly what it does, but it gets rid of … things.”

Liam also came over to prod at the light prison his son was now encased in. Solomon looked like he would destroy them all the instant he was free, and Ashford shook with the effort it took to hold the light source in place. He wanted to shout at Liam or Piper to do something, take over while they still could. Since he wasn’t exactly sure what he did in the first place, he struggled to aim all his thoughts and energy toward the strange glow emanating from his hands. He didn’t think he could hold out much longer.

It seemed as his frustration level rose, the light grew stronger, but as he became worried or scared, it weakened. He concentrated on every person he’d known that Solomon had killed. He didn’t mingle with many witches, but they all knew of one another, at least a little bit, and news traveled when one was lost. He felt sorry for all the years he’d avoided Solomon Wodge, preferring to play defense instead of finding him and putting a stop to the man’s atrocities.

Sweat popped out on his brow and he longed to wipe it away. Only a few seconds had passed while Piper and Liam bickered, circling Solomon like he was an exhibit in a zoo. Every time they crossed the path of his light beam, he felt weaker and wanted to tell them to stop it, but he was too afraid to speak and risk losing whatever grasp he had on this newfound power of his.

Even though Solomon’s body was paralyzed in the glowing orb prison, his satisfied smirk grew with every passing second. He knew Ashford couldn’t hold him long, and Piper and Liam were too busy trying to make the other one see reason to notice. It would only take a blink for him to have the upper hand again. Ashford’s legs wanted to give out. Whatever he was doing was exhausting.

“Please,” he managed through clenched teeth.

They turned to him and finally realized his struggle. Piper hurried to his side and placed her hand on his shoulder, and a pleasant warm feeling flowed down his arms. He nodded gratefully, never taking his eyes off Solomon, who continued to smile serenely.

“There’s no human prison that can hold him,” Liam explained for the third time. “And we can’t risk transporting him to another time.”

“He’s your son,” Piper said, also for the third time.

“Not since he murdered my wife,” Liam said coldly. “I’m sorry I misled you, but this person needs to be removed from the face of the earth.”

Piper groaned. “But I can’t—”

“Povests,” Ashford gritted. He felt a glimmer of satisfaction when that one word made the smile slide right off Solomon’s face.

“You can’t be serious,” Liam said. “Even I think that’s cruel. Let’s get this over with, quick and easy.”

“I’m sorry, but are you speaking of ending someone’s life as if it’s quick and easy?” Piper asked indignantly.

Ashford slumped and she squeezed his shoulder. Whatever strength she’d given him had depleted and he was on his own again. He shrugged her hand away, as it now felt like it weighed a ton. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he managed to say, “Trial. Witches.”

“A witch trial?” Piper asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

Liam sighed. “He wants to send him to the Povests. They’re a powerful coven of witches. They’ll mete out their brand of justice.” He turned to Ashford, who managed to spare him a look. He knew what Liam was thinking and he didn’t care. If this little weasel got torn limb from limb and then put back together again to have it redone for the next millennium, he didn’t care.

“If we can’t kill him, we send him to the Povests,” Ashford said, almost losing his hold on Solomon. He refocused his energy on the now sniveling man, and smiled his own satisfied smirk.

“We can’t kill him,” Piper said.

“No, you can’t kill him. He did something to Emma. We have to find out what it is.”

Ashford jerked at hearing Matilda’s voice in the doorway, and swiveled to look at her. She stood there, as beautiful as ever, a welcome and shocking sight, considering she was brandishing his gun as if she meant to use it. The look of surprise on her face at seeing him with icy white beams of light pouring from his hands quickly melted into fear and disbelief.

His heart dropped, only to race back up again at Piper’s shriek. He whirled back around to find that his moment of distraction allowed Solomon to break free. In a trice, Liam was flat on his back, thrown across the room by a flick of Solomon’s wrist. Piper tried to do something of her own, waving her hands wildly, but he only laughed and with a snap, she collapsed in a heap.

The giant Highlander was right behind Matilda and he shoved her aside, barreling towards Solomon. Whatever Solomon did to the man clearly caused him a great deal of pain and slowed him considerably. He soldiered on through the hex, wielding a deadly looking axe in front of him as he gained ground. With a grimace of annoyance, Solomon reached into his coat and pulled out his own gun.

Ashford heard a scream, then a shot, and the one unbroken window shattered, causing Solomon to turn away from Lachlan and toward Matilda, the source of the shot. It seemed she knew how to use his gun, but had terrible aim. He saw her shaking hands raise the weapon to try again, and knew that Solomon would be faster and more accurate.

Other books

The Tomorrow-Tamer by Margaret Laurence
Gabriel's Rule by Unknown
Simply Sex by Dawn Atkins
The Busconductor Hines by James Kelman
Gypsey Blood by Lorrie Unites-Struff
Black Marsden by Wilson Harris
Beowulf by Anonymous, Gummere
Celeste's Harlem Renaissance by Eleanora E. Tate