Blood Marriage (45 page)

Nicholas kicked the stallion, spurring it on as fast as he dared, and buried his face in Elizabeth's neck. His tongue flicked across the warm pulse there and she squirmed in his lap. His hand slipped down low on her belly and he pressed her back against him so that her soft bottom fit snug against his thighs. She wiggled, adjusting her position until she was as close to him as possible. 

Encouraged, his mouth left her neck and sought her lips. She returned his kiss briefly, but then pulled away, her eyes cutting toward the priest riding at their side. Vlad blushed beneath his white beard and discreetly allowed his horse to fall behind the stallion.

Nicholas didn't care if Vlad saw. He needed Elizabeth. Needed the taste and touch and feel of her to drive away the memory of that moment on the entry hall floor when he'd thought Lucy might defeat him and separate them forever. Even now the thought of what the
diavol varcolac
would have done to Elizabeth had he lost that fight sickened and enraged him. His mouth sought hers again, but she shook her head and buried her face, shy, against his chest. She whispered something about the priest watching. He grinned and returned to scanning the forest and trees for attack, holding her close.

Nicholas slowed the stallion to a trot as they came out of the forest and his brow knit. Light radiated from the mullioned windows of the village church as if the sun itself were inside. The sweet high sound of women singing drifted over the moonlit graveyard.

Vlad came alongside Elizabeth and Nicholas, leading the stable horse. Beneath the blanket the bundle twitched and struggled. Nicholas saw Elizabeth turn her eyes away and look toward the church. The sound of singing grew louder as they cantered into the churchyard. Vlad's face beamed with pleasure.

"We may not need holy water or the sword after all," he murmured. 

At the church doors, Vlad handed the stable horse's lead to Nicholas, then dismounted the roan. He went up the steps. The church door opened before he reached it and Bergen's black-clad figure filled the doorway. 

"How is he?" Nicholas asked from the stallion. 

"Alive and growing stronger, but it's good you've brought Vlad," Bergen said. 

The doctor stepped out of the doorway. Elizabeth pulled her body a little away from Nicholas, craning her neck to see inside church. Nicholas found himself doing the same. He'd been more worried about Leo than he'd cared to admit, but he couldn't go in to check on his friend himself. Doing so would mean leaving the headless
diavol
unguarded. He wouldn't do that. Not even for a moment. Lucy had only to place head and body together again to regain her ally. Nicholas had no intention of allowing that to happen. 

The view through the open doors showed the pews near the front of the church crowded with women of every age, some wearing nightcaps on their heads, all holding hymnals before them. Their voices rose into the night sweet and clear, filling the church like an angelic choir. Before them, the communion table was draped with a series of blankets, so that no part of it was visible, yet the form beneath the blankets made it obvious someone lay there. To one side of the table the vicar stood beside his wife, leading the women in song. To the other side of the communion table Lennie, and a decidedly pale Fielding, sang as well. 

Vlad's sonorous baritone blended with the women's sopranos as he entered the church. Bergen continued to hold the door open and raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth. Nicholas shook his head. Leaving Elizabeth in the care of the vicar, safe in the church with the other women, was the logical thing to do. But Elizabeth had vowed to follow him if he left her, and having seen proof of his wife's strong will again and again over the last few days, he believed her. Besides, after what Elizabeth had done to Lucy tonight, nowhere would be safe for her until the
diavol varcolac
was back in Hell where it belonged. Bergen came out of the church and pulled the door closed behind him, muffling the sound of the singing. 

"Margaret heard noises and saw light coming from the church," the doctor said. "She came looking for Lennie, brave girl." Bergen strolled past the roan to the stable horse. "She decided if an empty church was good for a bargeist, a full one would be even better. She gathered the village women to sing and pray." 

Bergen lifted the quilt away from the body. Elizabeth averted her gaze. The doctor continued speaking as if headless bodies were a common part of his day. 

"The women came, no questions asked. Even the vicar hasn't asked who or why. The Devlins needed help and that was enough. I got the impression he didn't want to know more." Bergen poked a finger at the burlap sack hanging from the saddle. "Nice work, Nick," he said. And then a little too casually asked, "Lucretia?"

"Lucretia died more than twenty years ago, Sebastian," Nicholas said. "But the
diavol varcolac
who stole her body is still out there. We'll have to find it, but Leo came first."

Bergen stepped back to the roan that Vlad had ridden and mounted the horse. He held out a hand for the lead rope to the stable horse. Nicholas handed it to him.

"Leo is visible. And human," the doctor said. "The goodness of the women, their prayers and songs, started the process. Vlad will take him the rest of the way. He'll be fine." 

"Good," Nicholas said, some of the tension easing out of his body. "Now, while we've got the lawmen singing hymns, let's go send a demon back to Hell." His arm tightened around Elizabeth, pulling her close against his chest once more. 

The stallion and the roan left the village at a brisk trot, the stable horse trailing in their wake. The ride through the forest to Maidenstone was uneventful. Though Nicholas kept a close watch on the forest around them and the sky above them, the only thing that disturbed the quiet of the woods was the sound of the horses' hooves hitting the ground and the occasional clink of chains made by the still struggling corpse.

When they entered the clearing and Maidenstone rose before them in all her ghostly gray-stoned glory, Nicholas relaxed a little more. A faint light glowed from behind the closed shutters of the tower room, but otherwise the castle stood serene and silent beneath the waning moon. They crossed the moat and rode through the yard around the side of the castle, bringing the horses to a stop beside the oval pyre. The stallion neighed a greeting to the wagon horses that earlier had been released to graze on what they could find. The two shook their manes in acknowledgement.

Nicholas dismounted and reached up for Elizabeth. She rested her hands on his shoulders and slid into his arms. He held her against his body, her feet suspended above the ground and, taking advantage of the fact the huge black horse blocked them from Bergen's view, touched his lips to hers. An electrifying rush of longing flashed through him. She must have felt it too, because she gasped against his mouth. He deepened the kiss, slowly lowering her body down his, raking her breasts lightly against the muscles of his chest. When her feet finally touched the ground, he bent her back slightly pressing himself into her. His senses reeled at the way her body molded so willingly to his, at the taste of feminine surrender on her lips.

"Ahemmm."

Nicholas opened one eye. Bergen's head appeared over the back of the stallion.

"Sorry to interrupt, Nick, but we do have a demon to burn," the doctor said. "You can light that fire later, after we've lit this one." The doctor tilted his head toward the stone oval.

Elizabeth was pushing at him, trying to move out of his embrace. Nicholas released her reluctantly and went to help Bergen lift the headless
diavol
from the horse and carry it to the pyre. His eyes kept returning to Elizabeth. His decision was made. She'd trusted him with her life tonight. He was ready to trust her with the truth, and respect her right to accept or refuse. But that discussion should happen at a more private place and time, preferably with her lying naked in his arms. It wouldn't be fair to use his body and her response to it to stack the odds in his favor, but he would. 

He and Bergen positioned the twitching corpse on the wooden patterns, removed the blankets, tossed them into the stone oval. Bergen retrieved the burlap sack, untied it and pulled out the head. The eyes were wild with anger and the mouth worked ferociously, the teeth gnashing and grinding.

"Vlad should be here," Nicholas said.

Bergen shrugged. "So the
diavol
won't get its official
bon voyage
. The gates of Hell won't fly open as it goes sailing in. I personally don't mind slamming the damn thing in the back door. Hell is hell, whether you arrive there in a golden carriage or on a turnip cart," Bergen said.

"I'll light the fire," Elizabeth said, her face composed, her eyes steely.

"Maybe it would be better you allowed me," Bergen said.

"It stole my mother's body. I need to be the one who sends it back where it came from," Elizabeth said.

"She's right," Nicholas agreed. "She needs to do this herself." 

Setting fire to her own mother would be difficult, but he understood Elizabeth's need to see this through to the finish. She needed to win against this demon, to reclaim her mother's dignity and her own sense of power and control. There was a long pause and all three looked around. 

One corner of Bergen's mouth cocked up. "Anyone remember to bring fire?"

"Damn!" Nicholas said. One of them would have to go get a flame while the other guarded the body and the safety of everyone would be compromised. Nicholas's eyes went first to the starry sky, then to the castle. "There's a fire in the tower room," he said. "It wouldn't hurt to check on my father, anyway. He could use someone to sit with him, Elizabeth." He'd said she should light the fire, but he'd prefer to leave her tucked safely in the tower sanctuary. He looked at her, hoping she'd agree, expecting her to refuse.

Her lips were trembling. Instinctively his arm wrapped her waist, pulling her against him. His gaze followed hers. A flame hovered in mid-air at the center of the hole in the castle's kitchen wall, dancing in the blackness like a tiny yellow ghost. A hand extended out of the darkness to cup it, protecting it from the night air. A boot thrust out of the darkness below the flame and at the same instant a face, made grotesque by the eerie shadows carving its contours, appeared above it.

"What are you doing out of bed, Father?" Nicholas asked.

The duke teetered at the edge of the hole in the kitchen wall before stumbling through. He wove his way toward them, a small candle held in the hand of his uninjured arm, the hand of his splinted arm shielding its flame. Nicholas released Elizabeth and went to meet him. 

Bergen beat him there. The doctor carefully plucked the dancing light from the man's hand. Immediately the light steadied, continuing to burn brightly, yet now unaffected by the night air. 

"Marlbourne, I take back everything I ever thought of you," Bergen held the candle up and smiled. "Some of it anyway."

"Heard the horses coming. Saw it was you from between the slats in the shutters. Couldn't get the damn things open to yell at you, so I decided to come down and say it."

"Say what, Father?"

"Couldn't believe you two were so cork-brained as to bring a woman. I'm runk, um, dunk, er..."

"Drunk as a lord?" Bergen supplied helpfully.

"That!" The duke poked a confirming finger in the doctor's direction. "And even I know better. Ladies aren't meant to see..." 

The duke leaned precariously to one side and peered at the headless body twitching on the pyre, its obscenity-mouthing head positioned above it. A piece of wood had been wedged between the two, keeping head and chain-wrapped body safely separated. For a moment Nicholas thought his father might lose his balance and tip over at the sight, but then he straightened and continued his rant.

"What maggot got in your head, boy, to make you bring our sweet 'beth?" Nicholas could hear the softening, the regret in his father's voice. "She shouldn't be here. She's the future mother of my gandsun-gramdun...well, a future mother -- if you've been doing your damn job right."

Bergen beckoned Elizabeth over to the pyre. 

"It's time," he said and handed her the candle. 

Nicholas's father abruptly seated himself on the ground. Nicholas patted the old man on the shoulder and joined his wife. Her cheeks were damp with tears. He pressed a kiss to her temple, then steadied her hand with his, helping her to touch the flame to the sleeve of her mother's wedding gown. 

There was an instant of expectation, then the fabric ignited and flames rushed across its surface. Nicholas stepped quickly back, bringing Elizabeth with him. They stood beside the duke, a good distance from the blaze that engulfed the oiled wood and the corpse that lay upon it, watching the corpse jerk and thrash as the flames consumed it. As her mother's mouth screamed in silent agony, Elizabeth cried out in horror and Nicholas gathered her into his arms. Her cheek pressed into his chest as deep wracking sobs shook her. 

The body on the pyre blackened, shrinking within the blue hot flames. The silver chains that bound it slid through its heated flesh and bone disappearing into the raging fire below. Elizabeth sobs gave way to a sort of forlorn weeping. The sound tore at Nicholas's heart. Bergen came to stand beside them.

"What now?" the doctor asked. 

"Now we get these two safely to the tower and we wait here in the open by the fire. Lucy will come. And soon. Daylight is only a couple of hours away. She won't wait another night for her revenge."

"To the tower then," Bergen agreed. "I'm guessing you get the pretty one and I'm stuck carrying the drunk."

Bergen made a face at Nicholas's father who sat in the grass just a few feet away. The duke scowled back at him. Nicholas had always loved his father, despite his faults, but at the moment his sympathies were with the doctor.

"Sebastian, about Lucretia...I know it isn't fair. I think I can understand, at least a little, what my father's mistake cost you, and Lucretia." Nicholas smoothed a hand over Elizabeth's hair. She'd stopped crying and rested with her cheek pressed to his shoulder.