Cameo and the Highwayman (Trilogy of Shadows Book 2) (9 page)

“I’m sorry I brought it up then,” the vampire said, lowering his eyes. “Perhaps the two of you would like to be alone?”

Before either of them realized what he had said, they heard his voice again but this time he was ten feet away, standing beside the door.

“I must excuse myself now and go out for my nightly walk. Please feel free to stay as long as you like, Black Opal.” He exited the room slowly, at a human’s pace, leaving the two of them together in silence.

“When he says
nightly walk
, does that mean he’s going to kill someone?”

“I believe so.” Cameo sat down in the spot that Edel had just vacated.

“That’s a bit disturbing.”

Cameo looked down at her shot glass for a moment. It was sparkling in the light of the fire. “Yes, it is.”

“What was the deal you made with Edel?”

“What?”

“The deal you mentioned that you made with Edel? Something you needed my pistol for?”

“Oh that. I threatened to shoot Chester if he hurt you.”

Opal attempted to hide how pleased he was by this piece of information. “Who is Chester?”

She pointed over his shoulder.

The dandy turned and found a monster leering at him from the entryway to another room and leapt to his feet.

His corpse-like face stared back at the highwayman. His skin was sallow and tissue paper thin, and the eyes… the dead eyes in the expressionless face gawked at him.

Cameo placed her hand over Opal’s, which was resting on the hilt of his pistol. “It’s alright; he’s harmless.”

Opal staggered backward. He stared blankly, unable to move.

“What is it?”

“Chester is a zombie. Like me.”

He looked at her suddenly as she ordered Chester out of the room. She was the same creature as that thing that had just left the room? Is that what she would become in a few years, he wondered.

Opal glanced down at her hand that was still holding his, then met her eyes, a question forming on his lips.

She let his hand drop. Chester, who was now safely back in the dining room, reminded her of exactly who she was. Of the scarred body she was in. She was a zombie like him, not a mortal.

“I’m a monster,” she said, turning away.

“And so am I.”

She smiled to herself and then appraised him standing there. He was dressed so handsomely.... “Those are just smallpox scars.”

Opal touched his face self-consciously. “I meant… my deeds are monstrous.”

She nodded, not really agreeing with him at all.

“Are you? You’re not… in love with that vampire, are you?”

“What?”

“Edel strutting about in here acting so superior. Who is
he
anyhow? Just some unclean undead.” He shook a finger at her, “He can’t love you back.”

“Unclean?”

His face went pale when he realized exactly what he had said. “Oh, not you. I never meant you. Can’t you see, I’m your equal, not Edel.”

“I know.” She looked at him sadly.

“You do?”

Cameo toyed with the tray of pastries, shaking her head, knowing this could go nowhere. If he had any idea of what she actually looked like beneath the full-body leather she always wore… the telling, endless scars, a roadmap to her true age with every healed wound she had ever endured.

“Opal, what do you want from me?”

He took a hesitant step forward. “I… “ he said, suddenly at a complete loss for words. “I want your love. You certainly have mine.”

An expression of complete bewilderment came over her face.

Opal looked at her, seemingly too shocked to move. For a moment he couldn’t believe that he had said it. The highwayman could feel himself holding his breath. The air was thick with what was likely going to be the crushing weight of rejection, but he had to say it; he had little time. She would be out of his reach in a few short hours.

“I’m unclean. I’m a zombie. I’m like Chester—”

“No, I didn’t mean that. I never meant that.”

“No, I am,” she stated. “I’m not human. You have no idea what you’re asking me.”

“Oh yes I do. I know very well what I’m asking, and I know exactly why you won’t reply.” Hurt, he turned with a flourish to go.

Cameo was suddenly in front of him.

Opal had forgotten just how fast she could move. He took one step back into the room, uncertain of her motives, one anxious hand on the hilt of a dagger.

“Don’t leave like this.”

“Why not?”

“We’ll never see each other again.”

“Then perhaps you’ll be kind enough to let me go with one shred of dignity intact,” he brushed passed her and neared the entry door to Edel’s apartment.

“I am not in love with Edel,” she announced, without any emotion in her voice at all, no human inflection.

He stared sadly at the marble floor for a moment. “Yes, I was able to surmise that much, my dear.”

“Don’t go like this. It’s dangerous.”

“You have no idea,” Opal said seriously.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” He opened his mouth as if to speak again, and then thought better of it and confirmed his last statement, “Nothing.”

She was suddenly in front of him again. Her back was pressed up against the door.

Unnerved by her unlikely speed, Opal reached for the door handle.

But Cameo blocked the door with one hand.

He took a wary step back. “I don’t like it when you do that.”

She smirked. “Does it scare you?”

Before he could reply, she was instantly closer, as if she were not taking any step at all, simply materializing in different points, closing in on him. He wasn’t certain if he should pull his rapier, or his pistol. “Please don’t do that.”

Cameo grinned as she heard the rattle of the sword leaving it’s sheath. “A moment ago you were declaring your love for me, and now you’re about to run me through… with your rapier?”

Opal exhaled nervously. “Yes… silly of me.”

“Yes,” she said, attempting a laugh, but all the while focusing on his mouth. Red with rouge. “Did you mean that?”

He felt her lips brush his lightly, tentatively.

She looked up at him.

“Yes,” he whispered unsteadily.

She kissed him a second time. More deliberately. Inhaling the scent of his cologne and the taste of his tongue in her mouth—a delicious concoction of pipe smoke mixed with brandy. “I ...” she murmured, trailing off.

“Say it again.”

Cameo pressed her mouth against his. It was better not to say it aloud. It would be best to confuse him with a kiss and not to think on it again, but he broke away from her.

“I know you said something. Tell me. Say it again.”

“I love you?” She mustered up the phrase that was barely audible, feeling unexpectedly small and vulnerable all at once.

Opal crushed his body against hers, enveloping her in the wealthy clothing of a celebrated highwayman.

“Don’t repeat it—if Haffef ever knew....”

“Oh, my love,” he sighed as he kissed her deeply.

* * * * *

The highwayman crept out of her bedroom; it was still dark. He had left her asleep, still believing herself curled around his body. He hated to leave like that, but he had to think of his own safety.

“Leaving so soon, Black Opal?”

It was the vampire.

Opal stood facing the door to the stairs, just a breath away from safety. “I thought it best.”

Edel was watching from his perch at the window seat once more. “Well, that’s really a shame. I think Cameo will be sorry you left in such a hurry.”

The dandy refused to look into Edel’s eyes again, so he addressed the door. “Why don’t you let her go then?”

There was a long pause, and Opal expected the vampire to be directly behind him by the time he finally spoke, but he was not. His voice was distant. “I can’t do that.”

He glanced over at the vase, the one with Kyrian’s pendant in it.

“Take it.”

Opal turned toward the vase, avoiding Edel’s gaze, and put the necklace on.

“What are those?” The vampire smirked, “It looks as though you have jewelry holding your shirt together.”

Opal glanced down at the now-tattered garment held together with several sparkling pins and pulled his duster closed. “I really should go. It’s nearly dawn, and I’d rather not be arrested.”

“Goodnight then.”

“Goodbye.”

Chapter Six

T
HERE WAS A YOUNG BOY
throwing a rock at the tower that used to house the members of the Association. After several attempts he finally smashed the stained glass, much to the delight of the crowd of children cheering him on.

The boy had no idea that he was being watched by a dark-haired man who was hidden between a local dentist office and the general store. Jules pounded out the embers of his pipe into one glove and brushed them against one leg, letting them fall away to the ground. He tucked his clay pipe into a suede pouch on his belt and brushed his hair from his eyes.

When the king had discovered Wick and her assassins had been murdered, he had had the tower emptied out and set bounties on the heads of all the wayward assassins who used to work for the Association. Avamore seemed more than happy to sever ties with the guild that used to do a good share of his dirty work for him.

Jules stared at the lone tower that stood on the Avon. It’s reflection was beautiful on the canal water at night. He had seen the bloated corpse of the woman whom he had once believed to be stunning. Wick’s dead body. She was not at all whom he believed her to be, his beautiful lover and benefactor. In truth she was an ancient crone who was using a powerful magic on him. All that time he’d been working for nearly nothing, completely entranced by her spell.

A few of the other assassins had been captured on their way back to the tower, taken completely by surprise that it had fallen. Their bodies were hanging in gibbets around Lockenwood.

A man ascended the rickety steps of the dentist’s office, and Jules moved into the shadows in the alley, not expecting to see anyone lurking around that early in the morning.

The dentist sensed the movement and looked down the darkened pathway. In the dim light he made out the tall figure of a man.

Jules took an uneasy step back.

“Maethelmaf! Jules Maethelmaf! Guards! Guards!”

Jules stumbled over some rubbish left in the alley and then spun around and raced out of sight.

* * * * *

It was morning by the time Opal had left his horse tied outside someone’s barn and walked the last few miles back to the Lakestar. All he wanted was to be alone and to soak in a hot bath.

Various maids greeted him on his way in. He grumbled something in reply. For the first time in years, he felt a sense of hopelessness coming over him. How could he save Cameo from the clutches of a vampire if he hadn’t been able to save himself from being taken in by the Belfours?

He limped into the suite where he and Kyrian were residing and closed the door silently, hoping not to wake the lad. Opal pulled off his duster and reached for his hat, but it wasn’t there. He must’ve left it in Cameo’s bedroom. The idea brought a smile to his face, and he folded up the coat, smoothing out each crease in a bit of a trance. Her brooch was pinned to his purple jacket. He touched the face of it, as if it were her face, her hair....

“Black Opal?”

He instantly recognized the irritating voice to be that of Kyrian.

“Did you just get back?” he yawned.

“That’s right.”

“Well, did you find Cameo?”

“Yes. She was exactly where you said she would be, at the east end of the palace.”

Opal removed his jacket and placed it on the bed, then rearranged the brooch so that it was facing up.

“She didn’t come back with you though.”

“No.”

Kyrian sat up. “What are you going to do now?”

Black Opal looked down at the front of his shirt that was now tattered. He unhooked the glittering pins that he’d taken from one of her dresser drawers and hurriedly pinned into the shirt earlier. As he examined the jewels, he realized they were probably something Edel had acquired ages ago and could fetch a good price if he had the inclination to attempt to pawn them.

As the shirt slid off of Opal’s shoulders, Kyrian made out what seemed to be the imprint of teeth on his neck.

“Did you get in a fight?”

“Hmm, what?”

“You’re bruised.”

Opal touched the area that the boy pointed at, and his mind, at once, went back to the moments spent with Cameo. He smiled to himself, “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s fine.” He removed the remaining brooches and dropped them into his pack. His shirt fell open revealing smallpox scars and more bruises. Opal hastily clamped the garment shut.

“You look like you had a fight.”

“No. Edel was… I suppose benevolent, for a vampire.”

“Why are you limping then?”

“Here,” the highwayman tossed him the amulet, ignoring what he was saying. “That thing worked to a point. He felt uncomfortable looking at it; unfortunately, he was still able to hypnotize me into taking it off.”

“He didn’t kill you though,” Kyrian said as he weighed the pendant in one hand. “I wonder why.”

Opal pulled back the bedcovers and sat down on the edge of it. “Cameo asked him not to. He wasn’t like Haffef.”

“What do you mean?”

“He seemed like he still had some shred of humanity left, I suppose. Not like Haffef. He’s so ....”

“Cold?”

“Yes. Severe. Dead.”

“Sort of like Cameo.”

“Certainly not,” Opal said disdainfully. “They are nothing alike.”

Kyrian slipped the amulet back over his head. “Cameo’s gone. What are we going to do now?”

Opal removed his boot with a painful tug and, without paying attention to what Kyrian was saying, pulled off the other and crawled into bed. “I’ll figure that out after some sleep.”

* * * * *

Jules pulled his cape around him and curled up against one wall of the shed, careful not to knock over any of the larger farming implements that had been piled in there. It was dusk. He had eaten some field corn earlier in the day, stopped to drink from the town well hours ago, and then purged the field corn prior to sneaking into the old shed and collapsing. The former Association member hoped for a few hours of peace before he had to leave town, maybe go south back toward Kings Basin. He had to get out of Lockenwood before the royal military found him and gibbeted him as well. As it was, his stomach was painful, aching for food. He could only imagine what it was to starve to death in the gibbets over the heads of the commoners.