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Authors: A.S. Fenichel

BOOK: Betrayal
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Humfrey said, “I shall wait here for you, sir.”

“Thank you.”

They walked down the hall, and Reece pulled open the double doors, exposing a ballroom twice the size of the one in his father’s house.

“My word, Reece, are you sure we need this big a home?”

Also covered, a pianoforte stood in the back corner. He walked over, pulled back the sheet, and revealed the polished black instrument. He sat and played a few notes of Handel. “One day this war will be over, Lizzy. When that day comes, I would like to fill this house with children and parties. Though, I suspect we will spend a great deal of our time in the country.”

She sat next to him. “I didn’t know you were musical.”

“It has been many years since I played. I have little use for the skill in my current occupation.”

“Yes.” She leaned against his arm.

“Do you think you might like to have children?”

“One day, if we live so long. I do like the image you have created. You playing in the evening and the children dancing. Perhaps we will sit quietly in the study. I will improve my reading while you write letters of business.” She sighed.

He kissed her nose. “I like it too. Let’s go and see if the study will suit.”

Though enormous, every room appeared finer than the rest. They peeked under the sheets covering a bureau in the master suite, which revealed exquisite woods and fabrics, before returning to the foyer. “Do you like it, Lizzy?”

“Of course. Who would not like such a house?”

“Should we purchase it?”

“Why ask me?”

He pushed a stray hair behind her ear. “You will be the mistress of this house. It will be your home. If you do not like it, we will find one that suits us better.”

She cocked her head and looked around the room. “It is a very nice home. Is it reasonably priced?”

“A bit too inexpensive in my opinion.”

“Well, then let’s go and find out why.”

He offered his arm, and they descended the grand staircase.

Humfrey read a document he’d spread out onto the table. He gathered up the papers as they approached. “Do you like the house?”

“It’s very fine, but extremely large and I wonder why it is selling for so fair a price?”

The solicitor looked around, then at his shoes.

“What is it?” Reece asked.

“The previous owner was murdered in the house. People are superstitious. I thought, in light of your current…um…hobby, you would not mind the thought of a death having taken place in the house. Forgive me if I have overstepped my boundaries.”

Elizabeth giggled.

“Not at all. Purchase the house for us, Humfrey.”

“Then you are not bothered by the murder? They have even said the victim’s ghost remains within the walls.” He shivered.

“We are not given to squeamishness. We will have a friend take a look at the ghost possibility, but I would guess it is rubbish.”

“I will see to the paperwork. It will take a few days to deal with the legal transfer, and I will need your signature of course.”

“Send me whatever needs signing. We will remain at the other location until this property is ours. I do have one other task for you, if you can manage it.”

“Of course, sir. How can I be of service?”

“Miss Smyth and I would like to marry as soon as possible. In our line of work, to wait for banns can be costly.”

“I will obtain a special license. May I wish you both great joy?”

“Thank you, Humfrey.”

Elizabeth blushed down to the neckline of her day dress. He’d never seen anything more charming.

“John, take us back to the office.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

Elizabeth said good-bye to Mr. Humfrey and climbed into the carriage.

Reece sat next to her and held her hand.

She’d grown used to these gestures of affection. Never had anyone paid so much attention to her. Why would they? She had only been the scullery maid in her old life. “You know, I have no idea how to run a grand house, or any house for that matter.”

“You will learn. No one expects you to know everything right away.” He lifted her hand to his lips.

The kiss shot like a lightning bolt and filled her with joy and desire. “That’s good, because I only know how to scrub pots, clean fireplaces, and kill demons.”

“You understate your talents, my dearest. I hope in time you will appreciate them as much as I do.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” What talents did she have? She could clean house, make a fire, and scrub pots like any maid, nothing more. The only other thing she could do with moderate skill was fight.

His gaze met hers, and he kissed her long and slow. “People trust you, Lizzy. They believe in you. It was that way with Connie and now with Tally. You even drew Shafton in with your clever mind. You think outside what is expected and doing so brings an entirely new outlook on a problem.”

Her cheeks were on fire. “That is very kind of you to say.”

“You should know by now, I never say anything out of pure kindness.”

“No. No you are always quite honest with me.”

The carriage pulled to a stop.

“John, what is it?” Reece jumped down.

Elizabeth followed him out. They were still ten blocks from the office. Normally a busy area of London, the street stood empty. Not a sound except for the horses’ hooves clomping with displeasure on the ground and their own breathing.

“What is this, sir?” John asked. “The street was crowded a moment ago, and then everyone vanished.”

“I fear it is us who has vanished, John.” Elizabeth pulled her sword and waited until the first wind came from behind the carriage. She spun and faced the opening vortex.

It started as a fist-sized hole and grew.

When it reached the size of a dinner plate, Reece fired. A scream echoed out.

It enlarged more aggressively until it filled the width of the street and beyond. An army of demons marched out of the swirling void.

Elizabeth hurled a throwing knife into the chest of a trebox.

It clutched the hilt, pulled it free, and fell to the street.

John fired a shotgun from the top of the carriage. He managed to blast several demons, but the buckshot mostly slowed them rather than doing mortal damage.

She threw another knife, and it skimmed off the head of a malleus, leaving a gash but not slowing the beast at all.

Reece fired his pistols and managed to kill two with no time to reload before he had to abandon them for a sword.

“There are too many, Elizabeth. We must retreat,” Reece screamed over the wind and demon war cries.

She grabbed onto the back of the carriage and he did the same. “John!”

The carriage bounced, John snapped the reins, and the horses took off at a gallop. She gripped the wood as they rounded a corner. The street looked the same as the last, and the vortex didn’t recede. They were not putting any distance between them and the danger.

“I come for you, peasant-hunter. You are mine by consecration. Your attempts to escape are futile. Come to me now, and I will spare your friends.”
The voice of the master whispered in her head.

More than a hundred demons spread across the road, gaining ground. The horses galloped themselves into a lather. The animals would die if they kept up the pace too long, and they would be no closer to escape. “Reece, they want me. Only me. Get John out of here.”

“No, Lizzy. We are in this together.”

“If you do not go now, you will be killed, and then who will come for me?”

His eyes burned and the muscles in his neck bulged. “I will come for you.”

“I love you.” She longed to touch him once more, but with the speed of the carriage, it wasn’t possible to get any closer. John had to slow as they rounded another corner. She jumped to the street and rolled to a stop a foot from the front line of malleus demons. Feet the size of an elephant’s stopped and dead eyes stared down at her.

“I love you.” Reece’s voice faded as the carriage raced away.

A malleus lifted her from the street. The vortex folded over and swallowed them.

She held her breath as if forced under a pool of water. Reece was safe, but her own fate emerged less secure. How would he find her? Where were they taking her? The world around her spun and her stomach lurched.

The wind stopped and rain splattered her face. The demons ran across a field.

Bouncing in the arms of the demon, she couldn’t make out the area, and trying to watch the terrain made her nauseas. She closed her eyes and braced herself against the jostling.

They stopped and she hit the ground with a jarring bruise to her shoulder. There were only twenty demons with her now. She didn’t know where the others had gone or when they had left. The last of the daylight filtered over the horizon. She’d lost her sword in the street. Grabbing two throwing knives from the belt under her skirt, she let one fly and pierced a trebox in the forehead. She let loose the second and hit a malleus in the eye.

She ran into the darkness with no idea where she was. Get away, then worry about location. She couldn’t kill twenty demons, but maybe she could escape. A lantern burned in a window across a puddled road. She ran toward it.

A hand wrapped around her ankle, and she went down face first into the mud. Digging her hand into the earth, she pulled away.

More hands grabbed at her.

She screamed.

A malleus gripped her shoulders and hauled her from the ground.

The pointed teeth of a trebox were inches from her face. Another grabbed her jaw. Its rough scaly hands scratched her as it pried her mouth open.

Elizabeth kicked and struggled against the hands of the demons, but their grips tightened. Pain stung in her limbs and jaw. She choked on a liquid poured down her throat.

The demon snapped her mouth shut and held it closed.

The dusky sky blurred, and the light in the window grew fuzzy. Her world turned upside-down. Had she fallen? No, the malleus had slung her over his shoulder. What was she doing in a field? She only had to reach her sword. The lantern, she had to get to the house with the lantern.

Her eyelids grew heavy. A short rest was all she needed.

* * * *

Arms tied behind her back, Elizabeth woke on a long wooden bench. Her body ached in places she’d never considered. Even the skin on her head hurt. Easing to a sitting position, she recognized the church where they had rescued Tally. They’d left her on a back pew. Three other women sat on different pews, staring forward. None of them spoke.

“What’s happening here?” Elizabeth asked.

The women didn’t turn at her voice; they just stared at the empty altar.

She tugged at her bindings. The rope bit into her skin. How long had she been there? Her shoulders ached from the restraints. No sun shone through the tall, blackened windows. Once, they might have brightened the nave and depicted the stages of the cross, but they were burned black by evil. It might be daylight outside, but she’d never know. Getting to her feet, a wave of dizziness forced her to lean against the pew. She closed her eyes until it passed.

Ten flaming lanterns lit the church. Elizabeth scanned for demons, but only humans populated the room. She staggered to the front pew and looked back at the other three women.

Their eyes glazed over, staring at nothing. No binding secured their hands. Whatever held these women clearly did not hold her. The blonde in the front row wore a fashionable day dress. Smudges marred her face, and her fancy curls felled from a jeweled set of combs.

“Miss, we have to get out of here. Untie me and I’ll get us to safety.” Elizabeth wanted to shake her, but she could not get free of the rope. She took a breath to calm her racing heart.

Two rows back a dark-haired woman wore a fine dress, but out of fashion by a few years. She might be a lady’s maid. On the other side of the center row a filth covered child stared blankly up at the altar. “Wake up. Oh for pity’s sake.”

Elizabeth looked back, but did not see what held them so enraptured. Though, when she last entered the church, the altar had been a makeshift stand of wood, and now a grand riser of carved stone filled the back of the apse. Behind it, a crucible filled the table. Impressive change for the timeframe, but still not enrapturing. Having to leave these women turned her stomach, but she ran for the door. With her back to it, she tried to pull the latch, but it didn’t budge. The ropes cut into her flesh. She battered herself against the oak. Pain shot across her shoulder.

Without arms for balance, she barreled along the side of the nave, looking for another way out. Half the distance to the altar, she found another door.

Locked.

She ran through the crossing up to the apse and around the altar. Shrouded by curtains, she edged her way along the dark sacristy until she found the door where she had entered with Reece and Tad. Her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and she reached for the latch.

Torchlight blinded her. The grunt and grumble of a demon pricked at the back of her neck.

“Puny peasant-hunter is much trouble.” The tritor loomed over her, exposing his pointed teeth in a leer. Dead eyes stared down at her from where it bent to avoid hitting the rafters.

“Better to just let me go then.”

“Master has an interest in you.” He gurgled and grated out the words.

“Why? I’m no one.”

“You can ask him.” He grabbed her arm.

The bindings bit deeper.

The tritor lifted his spear.

She closed her eyes. Sorry to leave Reece behind.

The blade whooshed through the air. Her hands came free.

She opened her eyes, and the tritor pulled her, stumbling toward the other side of the sacristy to a set of steps. Pins and needles speared her fingers and palms as the blood rushed back to her extremities.

Rough-carved steps led beneath the church and into darkness. Fear strangled her. The spear offered a quick resolution, but what lay below? She shuddered.

“Go.” The demon prodded her back.

No choice. No way out. She descended the steps. After fifteen or more risers, they curved to the right and continued toward a lighted archway. It opened into a carved out cave. An elaborate bed of dark wood, gold and plush drapery filled one end. On top of the deep purple and gilded threads slept the master. Even with pale flesh and hallowed cheeks, his looks compelled. Wearing nightclothes of dark silk, he might have been any English gentleman.

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