Cameo and the Highwayman (Trilogy of Shadows Book 2) (7 page)

“Oh, that’s why he wanted my sister—”

“That’s why he wanted
you
.”

Her eyes narrowed, “What do you mean?”

“What do you think, the Master just chose you to torment? I know it seems like that sometimes, doesn’t it? But no, there was more to it than that.”

“What?”

He shrugged, “Of that, I’m uncertain.”

She sighed. “I can’t read minds, I only see these ...” Cameo motioned to the shadows she saw lingering in the dining room. They were standing at the doorways and behind Edel’s chair.

“Ghosts?”

“Is that what they are?”

He folded his hands together and smiled at her thoughtfully. “Do you want to read minds?”

“I suppose it would come in handy,” she quipped, not really thinking about what he was asking.

Edel studied her, sitting there toying with her flask. “Because I could give that to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You could read your friend Opal’s mind any time it pleased you.”

She didn’t think that she would like that very much.

“Or perhaps you would like to know more about these… what do you call them?
Shadows
? See them as they truly are, have more command over them.”

“What are you getting at, Edel?”

He smiled at her, trying to pull together a speech that he hadn’t yet considered writing:
How best to convince her the whole thing was such a good idea?
“If you let me drink your blood… only a little, then you would have those abilities too.”

She raised an eyebrow, speechless.

“It wouldn’t make you a vampire… nothing like that ....” He could hear his own voice seeming to weaken, as if he were no longer believing what he was saying either. If he had been human, he would’ve been blushing; as it was, he was looking for something on the table to hide behind, and he decided on the candelabra.

“No,” she said, almost angry that he had suggested such a thing. “I don’t want to be a vampire. I don’t even want to be this half-thing that I’m forced to be. I want to be a human. I play at being a human. Why in the world would I want that?”

“You wouldn’t be a vampire.”

“But I certainly would be headed in that direction, wouldn’t I?” She folded her arms defensively.

Edel met her eyes; they glittered in the dimly lit room. He felt he had said too much. “I must go out for a walk.”

He excused himself and departed.

She watched him walking away. He had a certain stride about him, graceful and elegant, but there was something otherworldly about it… something too beautiful to be human.

Cameo unclenched her fingers, shaking a little. In a sudden burst of energy she was standing at the window that had been behind her a moment earlier. The snow-covered ground was sparkling in the waning moonlight. Then she saw the lone figure cross from the right and walk out into the emptiness behind the palace walls.

He slowed down just as he was directly in front of her, then stopped, turned around, and met her eyes.

She held his gaze for a moment, then took a step back and moved into the sitting room, leaving him outside, staring up at the empty space where she had once been.

* * * * *

Opal stared out at the water from his room at the Lakestar. The sun rose in the morning sky as the waves were breaking over the ice-covered rocks. He could hear it faintly through the walls, it was that loud. It hadn’t been all that long ago that he had last been in Shandow, staring out at the sea, from the very same hotel. There were no lovely settees in the hotel then, no harpsichords and no beautiful antique pieces because it had been prior to the rebellion, and no one had stolen them from the homes of the wealthy yet. No one had the opportunity to enjoy that sort of luxury. Only the rich, and the servants of the rich. He himself had followed his father into the palace on numerous occasions when his father gave music lessons. Opal was the little boy who helped carry the instruments or music. Whatever his father needed of him.

Oh, how he envied the royal children in their crisp jackets, the lace crimped in perfection at each wrist, wearing the shiny fabrics that he would never be allowed to wear. They would take their lessons one by one as Opal stood in a nearby corner. He watched as the royal family took them for granted, never thinking to ask if he needed a chair or a drink of water. He watched them treating their maids with outward distain, as if each one were worthless and disposable. They had no empathy for other children, no clue about the outside world, and that was because they were so wealthy, they had no cause to look outside of themselves.

He hated being back in Shandow. The snow, the utter cold, the remnants of the original royal family that had since claimed the throne some fifteen years ago. He hated that things hadn’t changed. He had hoped for change. But after most of the royal family had been hunted down, their homes ravaged, torn apart by the mob, it just turned on itself. The royals who had gone abroad to escape execution came back with militaries supplied by other countries. They just came right back in and rounded up and murdered every last member of the mob that they could find.

Opal could remember public executions. He had lost track of the number of hangings he had actually witnessed. He could remember leaving Shandow forever.

At least he had thought that it was going to be forever.

“Cameo’s been gone for three days now.” Kyrian’s voice startled him a little.

“I know,” he sighed. “I think something has gone wrong.”

“I told you she wasn’t coming back,” the lad said anxiously from the darkness. He had been sleeping on one of the fainting couches the Lakestar had
acquired
since Opal had been there last.

He could see the ghostly image of his own face in the windowpane staring bleakly back at him. “Do you have any idea where she is?”

“Yes, I know. At least I think so. I saw her in a dream.”

Opal turned in the direction that the voice was coming from, though he couldn’t make out any features.

“If you go to find her, it has to be in the daylight hours. She’s the hostage of another undead, and this part doesn’t make sense, but it’s what I saw: She’s at the palace.”

Opal paled.

“You
must
go find her in the daylight.”

The highwayman sat down slowly, “But how will I get past the palace guards?”

“That’s what you’re worried about? The guards?”

“Are you certain you saw the palace?”

“Pretty sure. I mean, it’s true that I’ve never been there before, but I had a strong feeling about what I was looking at, where I was.”

Opal glanced up in Kyrian’s direction. “Where you were?”

“You don’t believe me.”

The highwayman removed his eye patch and poured a pitcher of water into a basin. “What choice do I have?”

“Oh, thanks.”

“I can either sit here and drink my days away or go find her for myself. Throw me that dreadful coat of yours, would you?”

“Why?”

Opal scrubbed the paint from his face and pulled the ribbon from his hair. “Because I’m going to wear it.”

Kyrian tossed his well-worn coat across the room in Opal’s general direction.

“Thanks,” he muttered as it sailed past him.

“Oh, I get it. You’re going to the palace dressed like this so not to rouse the suspicion of the soldiers.”

“Go to the palace dressed in rags? Certainly not.” The highwayman pulled on the coat and ruffled his hair a bit, then he turned to look at the lad who was now standing in the light. “I’m going to steal a horse. I don’t want anyone to recognize me.”

“Oh.”

He glanced down at his fantastic boots. “Oh, I can’t wear this. That’s it, give me your pants as well.”

Kyrian put one hand in front of his groin protectively. “You aren’t getting my pants.”

“Well, this is just what you get for only having one pair, isn’t it?” He rummaged through his own shoulder-pack. “Here, take a lovely pair of my breeches.”

“Those are made of silk or something—”

“No, just satin. Well here.” He attempted to set them in Kyrian’s hand, but the lad took several steps backward.

“You look as though you’ve just tasted a lemon for the first time, lad. Stop being so fussy. Stop thinking of your own selfish needs for once and consider Cameo’s welfare.”

Kyrian lifted the lavender breeches with the tips of his fingers. “What’s a lemon?”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear that. Now, take off your pants.”

“I’m not wearing these. I’ll just wrap up in a blanket or something.”

Opal rolled his eyes. “Fine, get a blanket then. Can we just move along? The point of stealing a horse at dawn is to do it before it gets light.”

The lad undressed hastily behind a blanket then threw his pants at the dandy.

For a moment Opal wondered why he had been so adamant about wearing them. They clearly had not seen a wash in ages. “I think I’ll just wear these over my pants.”

Kyrian flopped down on the sofa unhappily.

* * * * *

Cameo woke with the sun in her eyes. She pulled her blankets over her head and rolled over. It was late in the afternoon. She had been used to getting little sleep while on the run from Wick and the assassins who had wanted her head for the bounty placed on it. Now she had all the time in the world to sleep or think. Sleeping was preferable to the latter.

Unable to fall asleep again, she turned onto her back and pushed the covers from her face. It was a very comfortable prison at least. She reached for her flask on the bedside table and heard the thud of something falling over. Cameo was suddenly awake, scrambling to right the flask before she spilled alcohol everywhere. As she sat up, she saw the full-length mirror on the other side of the room, and she caught a glimpse of herself in the nightgown. It was startling. For a moment she didn’t recognize herself. She looked frail and ghostly. Cameo approached the glass apprehensively. The gown brushed the top of her feet lightly, and she could see the scars: the scars that Gail had left her with, even down to her toes. She stripped off the gown and looked at herself.

What was once young and fresh was marred for all eternity. Her chest had multiple stab wound scars from her near death, and a bullet wound from being shot in the Graveyard of Yetta. The length of her body had many dings and marks from various scraps she had been in over the years, but the majority of her wounds had been inflicted by Clovis Gail DePell....

Her eyes lingered on his signature; it was carved into her torso.

She lowered her head sadly, and she saw little bald patch on her head from when Haffef had thrown her against a wall and nearly killed her.

Cameo tossed the gown over the mirror and hurriedly dressed in her black leather. She had kissed Opal once; now she wondered what she’d been thinking. She was an undead; it could go no further than that—ever. If he saw what she was… how like a monster she truly was, he would turn from her in disgust.

She took deliberate gulps from the flask as she remembered: After she staggered back to life, she ran into Gail. She was weak and confused from her near-death experience, and Gail held her captive for days. He cut her, and the cut healed, leaving a bloated scar within hours. This must’ve caused him a great deal of amusement because he covered most of her body with lengthwise scars. One day when she was dangling from her chains, she felt them break, and the next thing she knew she was lying on the canal path near Wick’s tower. Someone found her and brought her inside. Wick’s tower was a home to her for years, until she met Black Opal.

She remembered the wind in her hair as her Master lifted her from Gail’s camp to Lockenwood. Somehow she’d forgotten that detail, but now it came back to her in vivid detail. The wind, the smell of pine and a summer night, fresh with rain… balmy… and the scent of decaying flowers....

These were horrors that had haunted her decades ago, yet now she realized that every drop of whiskey hadn’t quite put them to rest. She slumped down on the edge of her bed and tried to relax; outside it started to snow.

* * * * *

There was a knock at the window in Kyrian’s suite. A rather dingy individual was holding onto one side of the large pane looking perturbed. For a moment the lad had no clue as to who it could be, and then he noticed the expensive blouse sticking out from his collar.

“Opal?” he asked as he unlocked the window, and the dandy leapt into the room with a flourish.

“Well, finally!”

“What? I mean… it’s midday, and I thought you’d be with Cameo by now.”

“Rescue the dear lady dressed like this?” He held up the filthy coat, then flung it over a chair. “That wouldn’t make much of an entrance now would it?”

“But it’s afternoon. You
have
to get to the palace before sundown.”

Opal dismissed him with a gesture, then rang for a maid.

Kyrian waddled toward him still wearing a blanket around his waist, “You did get a horse?”

“Of course.” He removed the second pair of trousers and flung them over the coat.

A knock came at the door. It turned out to be that same little maid that Opal had spoken to before, and this time she was a bit more distressed about the dandy’s appearance. He wasn’t wearing any makeup and he’d left his hair a mess. It suddenly dawned on him to turn and put on his eye patch. Embarrassed, he looked back at her, “As you can see, I am in need of a bath.”

She lowered her eyes as she shut the door with a curt, “Of course, sir.”

“A bath?! You haven’t got time for that.”

Opal raised an eyebrow at the young man. “There’s always time for proper hygiene, but I suspect a sentiment like that is wasted on lads such as yourself.”

Kyrian sighed, “Look, I just don’t want to see you killed. I’m telling you there’s a vampire with her… and some other creature, but I’m not sure what it is. I don’t understand why you seem to be more willing to face that vampire than the palace soldiers.”

Opal attempted to brush the knots from his hair. “Oh, certainly. Just take on the entire Belfour army.”

“It’s not going to be the entire army.”

“It might as well be. We’re talking about the palace guard for heaven’s sake.”