Rick swallowed hard. It might be considered cowardice to want her to take him as her prisoner, and do whatever she wanted with him. Then he grinned as the spell broke. A scuffle sounded from beneath the stairs, and Ellie ran out, brandishing a small sword, and taking her place next to Fleur in a reasonable facsimile of her pose.
The little girl was a mini-warrior. The same dark clothes, the same star pattern on her sleeve. Her hair was tied in a ponytail on one side of her head, and she had pink stars and a mask painted onto her face. Rick wondered for a moment whether the face paint was non-toxic and decided that Fleur would have taken care of that. She’d clearly attended to every detail of the costumes.
“So you have reinforcements?” Rick resisted the temptation to run forward and hug Ellie, and found his voice. “That’s going to be much harder to handle...”
“Can you take him, Moonbeam?” Fleur prompted Ellie with a nudge of her hand.
“Yes!” Ellie jumped up gleefully, and Fleur nodded. His daughter brandished her little sword above her head, in what was clearly a carefully choreographed move, and then made a rush at Rick.
“Ow!” His daughter whacked his leg with the plastic sword, which bent almost in half. Rick fell to one knee, and Ellie poked her sword into his ribs.
“Do you surrender, Creature of the Sun?” Ellie snarled at him, and Fleur clapped her hand across her mouth in an attempt to hide her smile. Clearly she’d supplied Ellie with the line.
“Yes. Absolutely.” Rick held up his arms in an expression of compliance. “Who are you, masked creatures?”
Ellie squealed, capering with delight, thrashing the sword around. “It’s me, Daddy!”
“Ellie...?” Rick tried to sound shocked. “What did you do, sweetheart? Are you a warrior now?”
“Yes!” Ellie stretched out her arms in an expression of love, and Rick hugged her.
“You look fantastic, Ellie. I was scared out of my wits.”
“You don’t have to be scared of me, Daddy. We fight for justice and truth.”
“Ah...very good. And who’s this we?”
“Warriors of the Moon, Daddy. Like in my comic...” Ellie’s voice took on a Don’t you know anything? tone.
“Of course. Well, I’m glad to see that you’ve got the right priorities. Justice and truth are always good.”
“What’s priorities, Dad?”
“Um...the thing you think is most important...” Rick was in no mood to explain words to his daughter at the moment. Fleur had got to her feet, the slow grace of her movements concealing the fact that anything more athletic was beyond her at the moment.
“You like the costumes?”
Rick hugged Ellie to his chest. Staying on his knees seemed entirely appropriate. What else was a man supposed to do in the face of such terrifying beauty?
“I love the costumes...”
Ellie wriggled out of his arms impatiently, running away to try out a few battle moves against the bannisters at the bottom of the stairs. There was only Fleur. Only her eyes. She bent slowly, whispering into his ear.
“On your feet.”
Her gaze held his in thrall as he rose. She was proud, and brave, all the things he wanted so much for her. Rick took her hand, raising it to his lips.
“You scared the living daylights out of me.”
Fleur chuckled. “I just wanted to see what I could do without taking my feet off the ground.”
“I’m honored you chose to share it with me.” It was bitter-sweet. Each new step that Fleur took toward finding her place in the world again was one step away from him.
“I helped, Daddy.” Ellie tugged at his hand.
Fleur grinned. “Yes, you did. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“And Fleur’s dad helped too. He climbed a ladder.” Ellie frowned. “I’m not allowed...”
“That’s right, ladders are for grown-ups.” Rick firmly quashed any hopes that Ellie might have of clambering around in the stairwell. Looking up, he could see the box that had contained the luminous cloud of glitter that had come fluttering down from the top of the tower held firmly in place by ropes and pulleys. He couldn’t imagine that Josh would have allowed Fleur to fix it in place on her own.
“Where is Josh?”
“He’s up in the viewing gallery, playing with Ellie’s telescope.” Fleur turned, calling loudly up the stairs. “Dad...!”
Light flooded downwards as the door to the viewing gallery opened and Josh appeared, walking down the steps. Ellie raced toward him, brandishing her sword.
Rick smiled a greeting and Josh grinned back, before turning his attention to the imaginary duel with Ellie, bolting through the door to the kitchen to avoid her lunges. Ellie ran after him, and Rick heard the sound of something crashing to the floor as the fight continued.
“So what do you have lined up for me? Prisoner of the Warriors of the Moon?” She’d already made him her prisoner, and Fleur could chain him up and lead him wherever she wanted.
She shot him a mischievous look. “I was thinking about it. But I decided it wouldn’t suit you. I’ve got something a bit more appropriate for you.”
She led him through the chaos that was ensuing in the kitchen, and Rick followed. Upstairs, in his bedroom, she’d laid out a dark suit on the bed, and added a shirt with a wing collar, a cravat and a richly embroidered waistcoat.
“Let me guess...” Rick frowned. “Count Dracula?”
“No! Everyone’s going to be coming as Count Dracula.”
“Okay... Give me a clue.”
“Well, it’s the library, so it’s a character out of a book or a comic. And it’s Fright Night...” She gestured to the chest of drawers, where a Victorian-style glass flask filled with a blue liquid lay. Beside it was a sheet of paper, stained to look like parchment, which bore the name Henry Jekyll in flowing script, along with a string of what looked like chemical formulae.
“You couldn’t resist it, could you? Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” Rick chuckled. “Be careful. I might drink the blue potion and think up an even harder exercise routine for you.”
Fleur grinned. “Too late. You’re not my doctor anymore...”
* * *
When he walked back downstairs, order had been restored and Ellie was sitting quietly, drinking a glass of juice. Josh admired the costume and Fleur produced a bowler hat from a large bag on the kitchen table.
“If this doesn’t fit, you’ll have to carry it.” She handed him the hat, and Rick tried it on.
“That’s fine.” He removed the hat, inspecting it. The hat had been carefully brushed and looked new on the outside, although the headband was a little worn. “Where did you get this?”
“It’s mine. I had it in my props box.” She took the hat from him, putting it on her own head. It was big enough that it slid down over her brow, covering her ears, and it looked slightly incongruous with the face paint and the swords. All the same, she looked adorable.
“When are we going...?” Ellie’s impatience to show off her costume surfaced.
“Not yet, Ellie. It doesn’t start for another half-hour.” Rick turned the corners of his mouth down, mimicking Ellie’s expression of dismay, and Fleur looked at her watch.
“I’d better get moving.” She took the bowler hat off and reached for the bag on the table. “You’ll drop me round to see Jess on your way home, Dad?”
Rick’s heart fell, and he realized he’d wanted to arrive at the Fright Night with Fleur more than anything. “Jess...?”
“You know Jess. Jess Brady, she has a Saturday job at the bakery. Her father’s Sheriff Brady.”
“Ah, yes, of course. I met Jim Brady in Main Street the other day, he came up and introduced himself. Nice guy. I can take you over to see Jess if you want.” Rick wondered whether Ellie might be persuaded to contain her impatience for just a little
longer so they could make a detour to the Brady house.
“How about you come with me, Ellie?” Josh seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “You can protect me from Aunt Maura. I’m going to be a poor shipwrecked sailor and she’s the horrible sea monster who’s chasing me.”
Ellie’s face lit up. “Yes, Uncle Josh! Daddy...?”
Rick chuckled. “If you don’t mind, Josh? We’ll call in and pick her up on our way to the library.”
“Of course not. We’ll need our little Moon Warrior to help us.” Josh grinned at Ellie and lifted her down from the high stool.
* * *
He looked so handsome in his suit. Handsome and wicked, the way he’d been in her dreams. The question of whether Rick was a good guy or a bad one had been answered a while ago, but it was still a joke between them. And the indulgence of dressing him up as a Victorian English gentleman had paid off. He played the part with more panache than Fleur could ever have imagined.
“So...is Jess a Moon Warrior as well?” He steered the car through the dark streets.
“No, she’s a ghost. She wasn’t going to come tonight but I persuaded her to. I said I’d make sure she has the best costume in town.” Fleur quirked her mouth down.
“That sounds...defiant. I thought everyone was going to be there, so why didn’t Jess want to come?”
He seemed always to know what she was thinking, how she was feeling. Fleur shifted uneasily in her seat, fiddling with the silver rings on her fingers.
“She was going out with this boy. He thought it would be a good idea for her to lose her virginity to him on her sixteenth birthday. He broke up with her when she stood her ground and told him no.”
“Good girl.” Rick’s words rang with approval. “So Jim Brady’s got this lad in lock-up, awaiting execution, has he?”
“No, he had a word with the boy’s father, who took a pretty dim view of it. But that’s all Jim can do as the boy hasn’t actually done anything illegal, because he never touched Jess. And Jim can’t protect her from the other kids. Apparently the boy cut her dead at school the other day and walked off laughing with his friends. Jess was pretty cut up about it.”
“But you can protect her, by making her the belle of the ball tonight.” The warmth in his tone curled around Fleur’s senses like a soft blanket.
“Yeah. I’m going to do my best.”
He chuckled quietly. “Coming from a Moon Warrior, I’d be more than surprised if your best isn’t more than good enough.”
* * *
Fleur was a warrior on a mission. Forget the swords, the determination in her blue eyes as Jess’s mother, Emma Brady, ushered her into the large hallway was enough to make armies of teenage boys with the wrong idea cower at her feet.
“You both look fabulous!” Emma was wearing a long gingham dress with a white apron, covered in what looked like tomato sauce. “Dr. Jekyll, I presume?”
“At your service, ma’am.” Rick smiled, and tried out a sweeping bow. He must have done well enough, because he heard Fleur giggle.
“Nice. But as it’s a fright night you might like to go for something a bit more sinister. A maniacal laugh wouldn’t go amiss...”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Jess is upstairs in her room. I curled her hair for her, as you said...”
“Thanks. Could I leave my swords down here, please?”
“Yes, of course. Put them with my axe on the hall table.”
Emma indicated a bloodstained axe, and Rick wondered whether there were any fake weapons on this side of Boston that hadn’t been pressed into service as props for tonight. Fleur put her swords on the hall table and carried the bag she’d brought with her upstairs.
“Come and have some coffee. Jim will be down in a minute...he’s just getting the boys ready.” Emma led Rick into a large family kitchen, clearing a space for him at the cluttered wood-topped table.
* * *
Sheriff Brady had plainly decided to go over to the dark side for the evening, and take his three sons with him. Rick heard the sound of feet thumping down the stairs, and four Draculas of varying sizes spilled into the kitchen. The three larger ones were red-haired, and the smallest one, a solemn-looking five-year-old, had his mother’s dark hair. Rick rose, shaking Jim’s hand and Emma took her youngest son onto her lap, telling him how smart he looked in his suit and bow tie.
“Isn’t Jess ready yet?” one of the middle-sized Draculas started to complain.
“No, son. She’ll be ready when she’s ready.” His father gave a slow smile, and sat down at the kitchen table.
They waited for another five minutes, and then Rick heard footsteps on the stairs. A little frantic whispering outside the door, and then it opened. Jess walked into the kitchen, her head held high and her back straight.
The smallest Dracula buried his head in his mother’s lap. The two middle Draculas stared at their sister, open-mouthed. The largest Dracula sprang to his feet, a broad smile on his face.
“Honey, you look beautiful!”
Jess did indeed look very different from the shy girl who waited tables at the café. Her red hair was piled on top of her head in a mass of curls and silver ribbons. She wore a long white dress, trimmed with lace, under a silvery-gray cloak, made of a thin fabric that seemed to float around her silver slippers. Her lips were very red, and her cheeks very pale, with dark violet around her eyes.
“I’m supposed to look like a ghost, Dad.” Jess frowned.
“The most gorgeous ghost in town. Doesn’t she look great, Emma?”
Emma laughed. “Beautiful.”
Fleur was leaning in the doorway, grinning, her jacket thrown over her arm. An off-duty Moon Warrior. “Show them the lamp, Jess.”
Jess raised the lamp she was carrying. As she blew on it, the cobwebs swathed around the glass cover fluttered, and the candle inside burst into flame. Everyone around the table caught their breath.
“Neat trick...” The middle Draculas expressed their approval. Jess blew on the lamp again and the candle went out.
“Do it again, Jessie.” The youngest Dracula had got over his bashfulness at his big sister’s appearance and demanded a repeat performance. She blew on the lamp again and the flame kindled once more.
“Right, then. Is everyone ready to go now? Got your fangs in your pockets, boys?” Jim rose from his seat, giving his sons a final once-over, and Emma chivvied them all into the hall, hugging her daughter as she went.
“Fleur...” As Rick followed them he heard Jim’s voice behind him. Quiet now, instead of booming over the chatter of his family. “Thank you for what you did tonight.”
“It was my pleasure. You know that,” she answered.
“Have you thought any more about what I asked you the other day?”
Something about the sudden seriousness in Jim’s tone made Rick keep listening for Fleur’s answer.
“Yes, I have. I don’t want to reopen my case, Jim. It’s over now, and I don’t want to dredge up the past...”
It wasn’t over. Rick knew that Fleur was still struggling with the agony of not being believed, and it seemed that she was still determined to cover that up.
“There are things you don’t know, Fleur.”
“There are a lot of things I don’t know. But raking it all up again isn’t going to help me. It’s really important for me to look forward now, not back.”
“As you wish. You know my door’s always open.”
“I do. And I always appreciate it.”
Rick heard Fleur’s footsteps on the tiled kitchen floor, then jumped as he felt her hand on his arm. Maybe the guilty feeling that he shouldn’t have been eavesdropping showed in his face, because Fleur shot him a querying look.
“Are...you okay?” Rick couldn’t think of anything else to say. Not here, and not now. He needed to think about this and choose his moment to talk t
o her.
“Yes, I’m fine.” She grinned up at him. “Ready to go?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT HAD BEEN decided that Jess should go in Rick’s car, so that the rough and tumble of her three vampire brothers wouldn’t crease her dress. They made a five-minute detour to pick Ellie up, and waited in the car outside the library for Jim and Emma to arrive.
Flaming torches lit the outside of the library, sending shadows dancing across the piles of snow. A heavy mist issued from under the heavy outer doors of the building.
“How did you do that?” He turned to Fleur, who was sitting in the passenger seat, clutching Jess’s lamp.
“It’s just a couple of warm air humidifiers, with the outlets placed on each side of the doorway. When the warm air hits the cold, you get mist. Pamela wouldn’t let me do it inside, because it might damage the books.”
The Bradys’ car drew up next to theirs, and the three younger Draculas tumbled out. The eldest saw a group of his friends and ran across the road to join them.
“Ethan! That’s a dollar you owe me.” Jim’s voice boomed out, and all the boys jumped.
“Dad...” Ethan Brady protested, and Rick heard Jess giggle in the back seat.
“That’s the third time he’s fined Ethan this week. Dad says that it doesn’t matter if everyone else gets away with jaywalking, we have to abide by the letter of the law.”
“No favorites, eh?” Rick wondered whether Fleur saw what he did. That Sheriff Brady was a very different kettle of fish from Sheriff Taylor. That it would be safe for her to go back and find out what she didn’t know about that night because, whatever happened, Rick would protect her.
Jim’s smiling face appeared at the car window. “Are you ready to make me the proudest man on the island, Jess?”
“Dad...” It was Jess’s turn to protest, but she grinned as she did so. She got out of the car, taking her father’s arm, and Fleur handed the lamp to her.
“I suppose you’re not going to tell me how you did the thing with the candle.”
Resisting Her English Doc Page 9
