Dead of Winter (48 page)

He realized he had abandoned Father Xavier, leaving him in the fur trading room. As Tom went to check on him, the ballroom echoed with squeaks and cawing. At the staircase, a waterfall of rats poured down the stairs. The horde turned the corner and went down the stairwell that led to the cellar. Before Tom could make sense of what he was seeing, a swarm of black birds flew down from the upper floor and followed the rats.

Tom’s skin sprouted gooseflesh.
What the…?
He ran to the staircase and peered down. The descent to the cellar was a black chasm. He could hear chittering and scratching and the rustling of feathers.

He had no idea how they got in. He became more concerned by what drove them down there. Tom sniffed, catching a whiff of smoke from upstairs. Then he heard the sound of crackling. “Christ, a fire!” He raced up the stairs.

210

In the fur trading room, Father Xavier sealed off every window with a chalked line and a prayer. He could hear the demons circling Noble House. They scratched the boarded windows, then pulled back with cries of agony. Father Xavier released his breath. The holy shields seemed to keep the evil out. But for how long?

He sensed an evil spirit out there in the blizzard. A higher intelligence far superior to the bloodthirsty cannibals. The legion’s ruler probed his mind, searching for his weakness. With Mirabelle’s soul set free, the dark forces no longer had a hold on Father Xavier. “My mind is a sanctuary of God, demon, I cast you out!”

The evil spirit backed off.

Father Xavier went into to the ballroom and searched the surrounding darkness. “Tom!” He had run off in a fit of rage.
His demon was taking over and I neglected him.
Father Xavier became burdened by guilt and sadness. He didn’t expect Tom to return human.

It’s just me now, alone against Satan’s legion.

Father Xavier couldn’t fathom how he could possibly survive. An entire fort village had perished. His own mentor, Father Jacques Baptiste, had died trying to fight this legion. Father Xavier felt the enemies of fear and doubt begin to wear away his faith. He crossed the ballroom to the glow of the fireplace. On a small table sat his holy book,
The Roman Ritual of Exorcism
, along with an arsenal of cross-daggers. Engraved at the center of each was the fiery sun. The insignia of the Jesuits.

I will not go out without a fight.

The exorcist chalked a half-circle along the floor around the fireplace. “I bless this space as a sanctuary of God.” He then picked up a silver cross. “I call upon the Immaculate Virgin, Mary, Mother of God, the Apostles, Peter and Paul, and all the saints.” With each name he kissed a cross and gesticulated. He then called forth his patron saint, the Jesuit soldier. “I invoke the bravery of his holiness, St. Ignatius Loyola.” Father Xavier picked up the last holy dagger. “Fill me with the divine warrior spirit of Archangel Michael. Give me the strength—”

“Your saints and angels can’t save you now,” a voice echoed off the wood floor.

Father Xavier spun around, holding out the cross-dagger. “Who’s there?”

Brother Andre stepped to the edge of the fire glow. “Hello, Mentor.”

211

At the fourth floor, Tom ran through the Pendleton home. Smoke filled the parlor. The paint on Lady Pendleton’s portrait melted and dripped. Tom coughed and hunched over, covering his mouth. “Willow!”

“Help me!” she cried from down the hall.

He ran to her bedroom. At her doorway, a wall of heat knocked him back.

A fiery blaze consumed the bed, walls, and ceiling. The floor was covered in blood and the remains of a skeleton with severed bones. Avery Pendleton’s misshapen head was propped against his lap.

Willow sat at her beauty table, brushing her hair and humming. She wore a red ball gown. The cracked mirror reflected a crimson face. Lidless eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you, lover.” She turned, facing Tom. Her facial bones shifted into a demon.

Tom backed away, stumbled down the hall.

Willow appeared at the threshold, silhouetted by a wall of fire. “This time you’re all mine.”

212

Down in the ballroom, Brother Andre remained in the gloom that bordered the chalked line. He was wearing a priest’s cassock and white collar. “Surprised to see me?”

Father Xavier gasped. “How on earth…?”

Andre just smiled, his radiant blue eyes gleaming with arrogance. There was not a bird scratch on his face.

Father Xavier felt the sting of betrayal. “I trusted you.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Father, but I’ve found a new mentor to follow.”

“Whatever demon is influencing you, don’t give in. Remember your vows, Andre. You took an oath to be a soldier of the Society of Jesus Christ.”

The young missionary laughed. “Frankly, Father, I find Catholic priesthood to be too frustrating. I mean, the Church takes away our primal desires? Castrates us? And then expects us to live in a world of lustful women without giving in to temptation? I just don’t understand the purpose.” He ran a hand down his black robe. “I’ve found a new religion to follow. And on this path I don’t have to vow to forego sex.”

“I knew your spirit was too weak,” said Father Xavier. “Willow’s succubus seduced you, didn’t she?”

“For two years I flogged my thighs to hold back my desire for her. I’ve endured enough pain on behalf of the Church.” Andre smirked. “Now that Pendleton is gone, Willow and I will spend an eternity together.”

“You ignorant fool,” Father Xavier spat. “You have been tricked by Satan. Your eternity in hell will be spent suffering for your sins.”

“We disagree.” The young Jesuit suddenly spoke in dual voices, “Under Lucifer’s rule, hell shall finally come to earth, and all mankind will know true ecstasy!”

Father Xavier said, “Lucifer holds no power in the kingdom ruled by our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!”

“I admire your passion, priest.” Andre’s cheeks grew thinner as he walked the edge of the chalked border. “We are a lot alike, you and I. We were both sent here to carry out missions to serve our gods.”

“And what is your mission, demon?”

Andre twirled his bony hand. “To make sure every man finds the pleasure he seeks. Such as your cravings for caviar and crackers, and your father’s needs to have affairs with teenage girls.”

Father Xavier felt as if he’d taken a blow to the chest. He raised his cross with a shaking hand. “What is thy name, demon?”

Andre’s eyes went solid black. “I am the one you’ve been seeking your whole pathetic life, eunuch.” His face shape-shifted into Gustave Meraux.

213

Upstairs, Tom raced through the smoke that filled the Pendleton home. Behind him ran Willow. Her dress and hair were on fire. She ripped off the tatters. Pulled out her hair. She slapped at her scorched flesh, unleashing screams like a coven of burning witches.

Tom dashed through a maze of corridors and hid behind the dining room table. His lungs burned. He crouched down low, sucking in air. On the floor lay Walter Thain’s bones, picked clean. Tom ignored this fact and jammed fresh bullets into his revolver. He spun the wheel and cocked the hammer.

The flame-covered succubus shrieked as it ran past the dining room. Her bare feet thumped along the floorboards down the hall. Tom considered chasing the demon, but the haze was too thick. His biggest concern was finding his way back to the stairs. Fire was spreading into the parlor. Orange tongues licked the ceiling over the dining room table. A heavy beam came crashing down.

Tom rushed out into the hall. Heard thumping along the floorboards. He turned as the succubus pounced, knocking him to the floor. His pistol skidded away.

Willow straddled him. Tom grabbed her wrists. She was bald and naked, her black and pink skin clinging to her frail bones in patches. She smelled like boiled tallow and charred meat.

The cannibal within Tom hungered to tear his teeth into her half-cooked breasts.

Willow gripped his jaw. “You want to eat me, don’t you, lover!”

“No!”

“
Ravage me!
” She clamped her thighs tight around his waist.

“No, damn it!” He fought to push her off, his fingers sliding down greasy skin.

She roared inches from his face. “Then I will eat you!” Her mouth ripped open. A dozen shark’s teeth sprouted from her dripping gums. She cackled like a madwoman.

Tom reached for his belt, gripped the cross-dagger, and drove the blade into the back of her skull. Willow arched her neck, wailing at the ceiling. Her eyes caught fire. Her face turned black with orange cracks. And then the demon’s head burst into an explosion of charcoal. She slumped across his body. Tom rolled her off.

He picked up the holy dagger. His pistol with the Hatcher family crest was lost somewhere in the fire and thickening smoke. Coughing, he made his way to the stairs.

Orange-blue flames snaked across the floor, torching the railing. Tom hurried down the winding staircase with an even greater sense of doom. Somehow, he and Father Xavier had to get the hell out of Noble House.

214

Gustave’s cassock transformed into an upper-class business suit as he casually walked the arc of the chalked line. Flames from the fireplace rippled in his jet black eyes. “Xavier, did you ever wonder how your father made his fortune?”

“You leave my father out of this!”

“He was never there for you, was he? Always traipsing off with his young mistresses. Little sluts not much older than your sister.”

Father Xavier remained paralyzed as his childhood flashed before his eyes…living in a giant mansion…his father always away on business trips…Xavier’s mother drinking heavily…his sister, Mirabelle, becoming possessed by a demon and slashing her wrists in the tub.

Father Xavier’s throat constricted as he remembered the thing that had clawed at his bedroom door.
Let me take you to where the children play forever.
“It was you…”

“Yes, I took your precious Mirabelle. I would have taken you, as well, had you not been so damned righteous.”

Father Xavier felt his rage building. “Why…why did you take her?”

“Your father failed to fulfill his agreement with me.” Gustave grimaced, showing sharp teeth. “And the sins of the fathers always fall upon the children.”

“Father!” Tom ran into the ballroom. “Upstairs there’s a…!” He froze.

Gustave grinned. “Welcome to the party, Tom.”

215

Tom nearly choked on his own breath. The entity in his belly shot out cold spikes at the sight of the Cannery Cannibal. Gustave Meraux and Father Xavier stood opposite one another, the crackling fire in the hearth at the priest’s back, the shimmering light reflecting off Gustave’s high-boned cheeks. His black and silver hair was slicked back. His eyes gleamed like polished black stones. “At last we meet again.”

Tom’s hunger returned. So did his rage. He tried to speak, but his words came out in a harsh growl.

Gustave smiled, blinking his eyelashes. “I wouldn’t be happy to see me either.”

Tom walked toward him, pumping his fists.

Father Xavier held out a palm. “Stop, Tom. Don’t come any closer.”

“I’m going to strangle this fucking cannibal.”

“He’s feeding off your anger,” Father Xavier said. “Keep your thoughts on God.”

Tom halted, his entire body shaking.

Gustave folded his arms. “I’m afraid you can’t save this one, priest. He and I have a contract to settle.”

Tom said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Remember the human flesh you ate?”

Tom recalled the woman’s cadaver on the slab at the morgue. Stealing small samples of flesh and cooking them at home. The rich, juicy flavor. The sudden surge of power in his body.

“I had to understand what drove a monster like you to cannibalize women.”

“And you took pleasure from it.” Gustave twirled his hand as he spoke, his long-boned fingers making gestures. “You devoured every piece of her meat, didn’t you? Then you felt the rush and craved more. In essence, you became a cannibal like me.”

“No, I only ate those few bites. You murdered over a dozen women.”

“One bite of human flesh is all it takes to seal a contract with me.” The cannibal grinned, exposing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. “The dark lord whom I serve is waiting for you right outside. It owns your soul, Tom, and I’m here to claim it.”

216

At the first light of dawn, Anika and her warriors ran through the fog toward Noble House. A fire consumed the entire roof and top floor. The dormer windows exploded with gusts of flame. Black smoke drifted over the fort.

Anika and Swiftbear ran side by side, the two braves right behind them. As they neared the log mansion, the mist thickened. A fierce wind knocked Anika sideways, and she fell to one knee. Snow blinded her eyes.

Beasts howled from every direction. The warriors hollered, their voices trailing off. Anika stood, bracing herself against the storm. She wiped sleet out of her eyes. And found herself alone. “Swiftbear!”

Amidst the fog echoed a maddening clash of growls and battle cries. A man’s wailing voice was cut short.

Anika raced toward Noble House, using the burning sky as her guidepost. A stench of carrion pummeled her senses. She froze like a rabbit wary of a predator. As the haze drifted, she saw a monstrous shape. She made out the skeletal back of a giant, man-shaped beast with broad shoulders. It was sitting cross-legged at the bottom of the steps to Noble House, its bony arms resting on its legs. Elk antlers jutted from the sides of its enormous head.

Anika crouched behind the well, quivering. Sitting before her was the creature she’d seen painted on petraglyphs. The Ancient One. The first winter manitou. Her heart nearly stopped when the windigo turned its head, facing her.

217

The raging thing inside Tom expanded ice-cold hatred up into his chest. His forearms and finger bones stretched. He twisted his head, snarling.

“That’s it,” Gustave said. “Give in to the beast.”

“Fight it, Tom!” Father Xavier yelled. “Keep praying for salvation.”