The Black Lotus (Night Flower)

by Claire Warner

  “Justin.” The voice chided as the figure stooped to the embers and lit a candle. “So much violence in you,” John stood, the candle throwing light across the room.

  “You have this effect on me,” Justin pulled himself upright and walked towards John, raising his fist as he did so.

  “Ah ah,” John held up a hand and smiled. “I wouldn’t,” He placed the candle down on the table and leant back against the table.

  “Why not?” Justin replied with a snort. “You took my brooch and left me for dead. You threatened a woman I care for and killed several innocent ones, I feel fully justified in beating you to a bloody pulp. Granted it won’t take but I least I’ll get some satisfaction out of it.”

  “Justin, you misunderstand.” John smiled chuckling slightly as he did so. “Of course you may beat me, but that will only waste you time.”

  Justin stopped moving and he stared at John with growing suspicion. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean while you’re here beating me, my agent is dealing with your paramour.” Justin took a step back and stared at the other man in horror. “Of course,” John carried speaking in a conversational tone. “By all means you can start, but unless you want your current beloved to end up like your last one...”

  Justin didn’t wait to hear any more. Despite the screaming pain in his ribs he raced from the room. Running through the main hall, he headed out in to the night. Ignoring the agony from his injuries, he raced across the drive towards the stables. Pulling open the door, he stopped. The scent of coppery blood hung in the air and his feet slipped on the slick floor. Looking down he swore as he took in the body of Coll. His retainer lay on the floor, his eyes wide with horror and his throat slit.

  “I’m sorry Coll,” He whispered as he closed the man’s eyes. Pushing open the stable doors fully, he raced back into the building. It smelt of horse, sweat and now blood. Reaching the stalls, he pulled open the first door he came to and reached for one of the horses. Dragging himself onto the horses back, he urged the horse out of the stables and into the cool night air. There was a waxing moon in clear sky and the world was bathed in shades of milky white. In desperation, he kicked the horse into a gallop and they flew across the landscape, heading for the woods and Melissa’s house beyond.

  Chapter 43:

  Melissa watched as Marcus tended to their mother’s wounds. She felt like breaking down from the events of the evening. First there was her disastrous meeting with Hugh and Emily and now, she risked a glance at Montjoy on the floor, now he had come to her home. She bit her lip and tried not to cry, she had done enough of that already this evening.

  “Mother?” Marcus stared down at their mother’s form with concern. “Melissa,”

  Melissa was at his side in an instant, looking at the bloody wound to their mother’s head with apprehension.

  “What is it?” She choked on the words, fear strangling each syllable. She took a deep gulp of air and tried again, hoping that what she feared was unfounded.

  “Give me a hand?” Marcus reached down and took gentle hold of their mother’s body. Steadying himself against the dead weight, he picked her up. “Get the doors; we’ll take her upstairs.”

  Melissa nodded and walked forward. She was stepping over Montjoy’s body, when his hand snaked out and seized hold of her ankle. With a scream, she crashed to the ground and watched in horror as the man dragged himself upright.

  “It worked after all,” The older man sneered as he watched the shock on Marcus’ face with a grin. “I believe you owe me boy.” Montjoy lumbered forward and reached for Marcus. His body was slow and uncoordinated, but still moving. “And after I deal with you,” He cast a glance at Melissa, “I believe I’ll have your sister, after all, you can’t stop a dead man.”

  “No!” Melissa grabbed a nearby vase and flung it at Montjoy’s head. The heavy ceramic shattered into myriad pieces, cutting into the man’s face. He bled freely, rivulets trickling over his skin to drip over his shirt.

  “You can’t stop me girl,” Montjoy gasped out as he staggered forward.

  Marcus carefully placed his mother on the ground and advanced on Montjoy, his face bleak. “Get out of here Melly,” He uttered in deadly grim tones.

  “No! I’m not leaving you to…” Marcus grabbed her arm and propelled her towards the door.

  “Get out of here and find the servants,” He gave her a push through the door, “If you can’t, get to the stables and run.”

  “No Marcus!” She shouted as he pulled the door shut and she heard the bolts strike home. “No!” Flattening herself against the heavy wood, she hammered futilely on the hard surface of the door. From within she could hear the sounds of a struggle and she sank to her knees, weeping in frustration and fear as she tried once again to beat on the unyielding wood.

  “Please Marcus don’t die,” She whispered, despair running through her as she imagined her brother lying still and cold. Something large or heavy fell over in the other room and she looked up, wondering if her brother was now lying dead.

  “Crying about it won’t help,” She whispered to herself as she picked herself up from the floor. Looking at the closed door, she pushed aside the desire to curl into a ball and hide. Wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand she turned and faced the hall, resolve building in her chest as she took stock of her situation. “If I find the servants it may be too late,” She muttered. Making a snap decision, she reached out for her father’s cane. Her fingers closed around the smooth wood and she pulled it free from its stand in the hall. Clasping the cane tightly in her hand, she ran from the study door. With light steps, she raced to the front door and pulled at the handle. Flinging it open she raced through and out onto the drive.

  Heading out into the darkness, she raced towards the side of the building, heading for the windows to the study. Her skirt wrapped about her legs and she fell heavily. The breath whooshed out of her lungs and she scraped the skin on her hands and face. Bruised and almost in tears from fear, she picked herself up. Blood ran freely from a long scratch on her hand and pain radiated through her. She looked down at the long restricting skirt and swore. Reaching down, she grabbed the front of her dress and tore, ripping the fabric from the hem to the waist. As her legs became free, she seized hold of the cane and started to run. Heading for the side of the house, she raced round it, fright fuelling her movements. When she reached the study window, she swung the cane, shattering the window with several powerful blows. In a panic, she clambered over the windowsill, slicing the delicate skin on her hands as she did so.

  “Marcus!” She called as she pushed herself against the heavy shutters, hoping that the household staff hadn’t managed to secure the panels yet. “Marcus!” She could hear fighting from within and she pushed again with renewed hope. The shutter rattled in its place but did not move. As she readied herself for another blow, she heard a familiar voice cry out from beyond the shutter. In her fear and worry, she threw herself at the shutters, jarring her bones painfully as they gave way. She spilled through the window and into the room, landing in a heap on the floor. Dragging herself upright, she stared into the room looking for her brother and Montjoy.

  “Good evening Miss De Vire,” She choked back a scream as Montjoy’s arm closed about her throat and pulled her close to his chest. As he dragged her across the floor, she could see her see her brother. He lay before the fire with his eyes closed and shirt bloody. Her cry of horror was choked by his hold on her throat as he dragged her mercilessly across the floor. She could see her mother still unconscious in the chair and took a deep fearful breath.

  “How nice of you to get ready for me.” Montjoy’s voice echoed in her ears as one of his hands reached down to her torn skirt.

  “Bastard!” She swore and kicked back, feeling her heel connect against his hard shin. He staggered back but did not let go.

  “Enough of that,” He growled in her ear before throwing her to the ground. “You’ll only make me angry.”


  Melissa lay on the floor and stared up at him. His shirt was red from where she had shot him and he limped toward her, his injuries clearly slowing him down.

  “As you can see, I can’t die.” He reached into a pocket and pulled a black lotus blossom from its depths. “Such a wonderful thing isn’t it,” He whispered in a marvellous tone. “I can just keep going.” He walked forward slowly.

  Melissa rolled and stood, reaching for the mantel and several large vases. Grasping one in her hands, she threw it across the room, where it broke against his head. He staggered back, woozy from the blow.

  “You’re only making it worse.” He threatened as he lurched forward.

  She threw another vase, this one caught him in the chest and he doubled up in pain. Melissa reached for something else to throw but at that moment, her mother groaned as she started to come round. Montjoy turned and headed for Lydia, flicking open the lotus as he did so. Melissa threw the next vase before racing across the room towards Montjoy.

  Melissa grabbed hold of Montjoy’s arm, but even as wounded as he was, he was still stronger than she. He pushed her back to the floor as he reached for her mother, holding the lotus blossom in his hand.

  Justin reined in outside of the De Vire manor as an anguished scream rent the air. Throwing himself from his horse, he raced into the manor as fast as his legs could carry him. He reached the main hall and caught sight of the dead body in the hallway.

  “Melissa!” He shouted, hoping that she was nearby.

  Melissa stared at the body of her mother in shock. It had taken but a moment. As Lydia De Vire’s eyes had flickered open, Montjoy had thrust the brooch before her gaze. Just one look sealed her fate. Melissa had watched as her mother jerked as though she had been shot. Blood poured from wounds that appeared from nowhere as Montjoy stood straighter, the damage leaving him.

  “Melissa!” She heard the shout from the hallway and screamed out, trying hard not to watch her mother die.

  Justin raced through the hall and entered the study, stopping in horror at the sight that met his eyes. Montjoy was reaching for Melissa as her mother lay crumpled and dead nearby and Marcus, he glanced down at the other man but couldn’t tell whether he were alive or not. The thing that really drew his attention was the lotus bloom in Montjoy’s hand.

  “Lestrade,” Montjoy turned to face the newcomer. “How kind of you to make it?” He lifted his hand and showed him the lotus. “I hear I have you to thank for this.”

  Justin ignored him; he glanced over to Melissa and helped her to her feet. “Are you alright?”

  “He killed my mother,” She replied, her voice dead and eyes full of hate. “I’ll kill him.” She lunged forward, taking Justin by surprise. Rage powering her, she struck out at Montjoy wildly, attacking with her hands, feet and teeth. He pushed her to the floor, his foot slamming into her side and she gasped in pain. Justin moved between them and seized Montjoy’s arms.

  “Don’t you even think about it,” He snarled back, more angry than he had ever been.

  “What do you think you can do?” Montjoy smiled back. “You can barely stand, you haven’t healed your injuries and you can’t.” He pulled back and tried to break free, but Justin held on.

  “True I am injured.” He replied with a grim smile, “But I know more about this than you.” He twisted the arm that held the locket and watched as it hit the floor. As Montjoy tried once again to pull himself free, he shouted over his shoulder. “Kick it into the fire.” He shouted at Melissa, who rushed forward and bent down. “Don’t pick it up!” He yelled in panic as her hand closed on the smooth enamel. He watched with dawning shock as she stood, lotus in hand and without falling unconscious.

  “It’s alright,” Melissa said with a grim smile. “Your friend Emily already gave me my own one of these.” And with that, she threw the lotus into the fire. Montjoy flinched as though he had been struck and Justin took advantage of the distraction, throwing the man backwards and into the wall. He reached down and picked up the poker that had been dropped earlier. With an almost nonchalant motion, he swung the poker at the man’s head. Montjoy fell to the ground and Justin lay about his prone body with the poker, landing blows came thick and fast until Montjoy lay still on the study floor with a bloody mess for his head.

  Justin backed off and dropped the poker, his face grey from the exertion. Melissa rushed to his side and stared at the body.

  “What do we do?”

  “He’ll be awake soon, but he will be decaying.” Justin muttered as he reached down and pulled Montjoy’s body upright. “Help me with him,” Melissa rushed over and helped pick up the body.

  “What are we doing with him?”

  “Burying him,” Justin answered simply. He took in the shock that crossed her features and continued, “Or at the very least, making sure he won’t move for a while.” Together they manoeuvred the body from the study and out onto the grounds. Justin loaded him on the back of his horse and mounted up behind.

  “Where are you taking him?”

  “My estate,” He called back. “It won’t take me long,” He glanced up at Melissa’s house and then back at the girl before him. “I think you should pack some essentials, things that won’t be missed. You’re going to have to leave tonight.”

  And with that he took off across the grounds at a fast gallop, leaving Melissa to stare after him in shock. Turning back to the house, she rushed into the study and the body of her brother.

  “Marcus,” She whispered, reaching down to shake his shoulder. “Marcus,” his skin was warm beneath her fingers and she could see his chest rise and fall, so she knew he was not dead. “Marcus please wake up,” She pleaded, settling back on her heels and beginning to cry.

  She was still sat there when Justin returned. He reached her side and hunkered down next to her, his arms sliding across her shoulders. With a moan, she turned and cried into his shoulder, feeling his warm arms supporting her.

  “Do I have to go before knowing he’s alright?” She whispered when she finally gained control of her emotions.

  “Yes,” Justin replied, his voice low and sorrowful. “Because you will be assumed to have been abducted or killed. When Marcus comes to, he will tell them about Montjoy.” He took a deep breath continued, his heart heavy with all the things he had to say. “They will see your mother and assume that he found you and left.”

  “But I can’t just leave…” He pulled back from the hug and stared her deep in the eyes.

  “You have to,” He stood up and reached down a hand. “I’m so sorry I got you into this.” Melissa stared at the hand and then back at her brother. “He will be alright,” He reassured, stepping closer and laying a hand upon her shoulder. “I should know, I’ve seen more than enough wounds. It’ll take a couple of hours but he will be alright.”

  Melissa reached out a hand and turned Marcus over. She brushed the strands off hair away from his face and felt the tears start to come. “I’ll miss you,” She whispered, weeping through the words. “And I love you, I’ll never forget.” With that she reached down and hugged him. Justin watched her stand and head for the door. Without so much as a backwards glance, she reached the stairs and headed back to her room to pack.

  He sighed as he sat down and waited for her to reappear. It would have been better if he had never spoken to her, better if he had not returned to court. He thought of Emily and all the words he would have with her once he caught up with her. His ribs and body still hurt and John still had his brooch. As Melissa finally arrived in the room with a small case in her hands, he had made the decision. They couldn’t go on like this forever. There had to be an end to it, an end to the suffering and bickering, even if it took him many centuries, he would cure them. As Melissa mounted the horse behind him and they headed off into the night, he swore that he would not rest until he found the answer. No matter how far he had to travel he would cure them all.

  The End.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue:

&nb
sp; Chapter 1:

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5:

  Chapter 6:

  Chapter 7:

  Chapter 8:

  Chapter 9:

  Chapter 10:

  Chapter 11:

  Chapter 12:

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14:

  Chapter 15:

  Chapter 16:

  Chapter 17:

  Chapter 18:

  Chapter 19:

  Chapter 20:

  Chapter 21:

  Chapter 22:

  Chapter 23:

  Chapter 24:

  Chapter 25:

  Chapter 26:

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28:

  Chapter 29:

  Chapter 30:

  Chapter 31:

  Chapter 32:

  Chapter 33:

  Chapter 34:

  Chapter 35:

  Chapter 36:

  Chapter 37:

  Chapter 38:

  Chapter 39: