“Who are you?” I said, straining my eyes through the darkness. “What do you want with me?”
“I don’t want anything with you,” he replied. “But your sisters do.”
“I figured,” I said. “Alright, where are they? Come on, let’s have it out.”
A chilling laugh bounced around me. “They’re out feeding, replenishing their energy levels. They’ll be back soon enough.”
I sighed. “Right, and I’m just supposed to sit here and wait, am I?”
“Pretty much.”
“Do I get a drink or anything?”
Silence.
“Hello?”
“I…I don’t know. That’s a good question. I guess there’s nothing wrong with giving you some water.”
“Thanks,” I said, my tone of voice deadpan flat. “Any chance you can tell me where I am?”
A haughty chuckle sounded followed by the scuffling of feet across the ground. “Even if I did tell you, you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
“You’re inside my home,” he replied. A smooth piece of wood pressed against my lips. “Open your mouth. Drink.”
I did as I was told and was rewarded with cool, refreshing water gliding down my throat. It eased my headache somewhat.
“Thank you.” I licked my lips, noticing how dry and cracked they were. “So where is your home?”
The strike of a match sounded behind me, then the soft glow of light shone against the wall in front of me. The outline shadow of me on the chair danced against the rough surface in the yellow flame.
I squinted my eyes and looked around me, trying to make out where I was. Glancing at the floor, I realised I was on bare earth. Turning my attention upwards, I saw nothing but a never-ending pit of darkness.
Then, as I turned my head to the right, I caught the glance of something out of the corner of my eye. It looked like a little archway, like what a mouse gnaws into a skirting board for a doorway.
“What the…?” I saw something move outside the little archway, waving slowly back and forth. It took me a few seconds to realise it was grass. “Is that grass?”
An ugly, boil-ridden face popped into view, making me jump. Two beady black eyes stared into my eyes and a huge nose almost touched mine.
“Welcome to the world of the goblins, witch.”
Chapter Thirty
Lina
We did good, my sister and I. Our quickly hatched plan worked like a charm. By the time the detective woke, we’d be long gone, vanished without a trace.
All he’d ever find was Kyla’s body. Nothing more. It was a shame we couldn’t help him further his career by giving him the truth about the multiple murders, but survivor’s never win by having empathy for other’s situations.
Me and Arana both wanted some bittersweet revenge by taking Kyla back to our childhood house and killing her there, but we knew that would probably be the first place the detective went to when he started looking for Kyla.
Arana had had a brainwave and mentioned the goblins. Never in a million years would anyone ever think to look for her in a tree trunk nor expect her to be the size of a pen. The best part was it was on her own damn land. That was the perfect bittersweet irony.
After making mud pies and stealing more leather shoes, we delivered our gifts and received open hospitality.
The leader, Borvil, even offered to watch her for us whilst we headed out to replenish our depleted magick levels.
It was perfect.
There’s something strangely euphoric about walking around in civilisation, knowing you’ve got someone tied up somewhere, awaiting your return so you can torture the hell out of them.
My current target, a cute barman by the name of Jack, was pulling out all his best lines in an effort to woo me, but he hadn’t realised I’d already decided I was having him. He absolutely reeked of cherries and I had little doubt that he pulled more than one girl a night.
After being told to ‘show off my parking skills and reverse onto his lap,’ I was waiting for his next charming quip.
“You really are quite beautiful. Why don’t you take this—” he gave me twenty pence “—and go and call your dad, tell him you won’t be coming home tonight.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, I don’t live with my parents.” I snatched the twenty pence from his fingers anyway. “Because they’re dead.”
The horror that flashed across his face had me dying of laughter inside. What a twerp.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Save it,” I said, giving him a killer smile. “I’ve already decided you’re mine so cut the crap.”
He balked. His mouth dropped wide open. “Wait, what?”
I rolled my eyes. “You never had a woman who knows what she wants?”
“Erm…”
“I’ll take that as a no.” I glanced behind him to the door that led down into the basement. “You got any lines that need cleaning or barrels that need changing?”
“You serious?”
“Do I look like I’m having a joke?”
Off he trotted, like a good little boy, through the black door at the back of the bar. With the bar top open at one end, I slipped through and followed him in.
This was going to be a fun quickie for me.
By two a.m., both of us had stocked up our magick levels and we were ready for business.
Stepping outside the club, we went around the back, to where I’d killed Chester, and shifted into bats.
Then, flying high, we soared our way back to the goblins, eager for our bloodthirsty revenge.
In less than ten minutes, we’d reached our destination, drank a cup of acorn juice, and shifted back into our normal form.
“She’s all yours,” said Borvil, giving us a wicked grin. “Have fun. Shout me if you need anything.”
I looked at Kyla. At her feet was a leather pouch. Curious, I went to it and opened it. Inside, a vast array of metal implements that would aid us in our torture gleamed back at me.
I grinned. What a treat.
What I didn’t expect though was for a foot to smack the side of my head. I found myself splayed out across the dirt, nursing a dull ache just above my right ear.
“Fucking bitch!” Arana yelled. She stomped across the compacted ground. Seconds later, a sharp crack sounded through the air. “We’re in charge here, not you.”
“Could have fooled me,” Kyla replied, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Seems to me it’s the goblins in charge, not you.”
“Shut up,” screamed Arana. “You fucking bitch, just shut up!”
A loud thud followed my sister’s shouts along with the ground vibrating beneath my head.
“Lina,” Arana said. Her hand rested on my shoulder. “Are you ok?”
I shook my head as if trying to clear the fog my mind. “Yeah, just a bit dazed.”
The leather pouch in my hands suddenly slipped through my fingers as my sister took a hold of it.
“Excellent,” said Arana. “What a cute torture kit.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Sam awoke around three a.m. What pierced her sweet dreams was the constant whining and door scratching of Maxi.
Grabbing her phone, Sam looked at the time and frowned. “Kyla?” she called out.
She gathered up her dressing gown and put it on. Ambling across the landing, she continued to call out Kyla’s name as she passed each of the bedrooms.
No response met her.
Sighing, she padded downstairs to find Maxi exactly where she’d left him when she went for her bubble bath.
“Maxi, come on,” she said, patting her knees. “Mummy will be back soon.”
Maxi ignored her. His whining became glass-shattering. It was then that Sam noticed the streaks of blood staining the wooden hallway floor.
“Here, boy,” she said, creeping towards him. “Let me look at your feet.”
Thankful that Maxi finally paused his cries for attention,
Sam picked up one of his front paws. She gasped when she saw he’d literally scratched his nails down to the quick. Blood was steadily flowing to the surface from each one.
Sam sighed. “Oh, boy. What have you done, hmmm?”
Running back upstairs, Sam called her brother.
“Yeah?” Dylan replied, half asleep.
“Is Kyla with you?” Sam sighed for extra effect, making it obvious she was not impressed.
“No, why would she be?”
“I thought you were taking her out for dinner tonight?”
“I called her, but she never answered. Why, what’s up?”
“She’s not come home, and this damn dog is driving me mad. He hasn’t stopped whining and scratching at the door since I got in. His nails are all bloody and—”
“Let him out.”
“I can’t. Kyla will kill me if he runs off.”
“Let the damn dog out, Sam. Something’s up, you idiot. He’s trying to get to her.”
Sam smacked her hand across her forehead. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think.” She bolted downstairs and opened the front door. Maxi hurtled across the driveway before careering off to the right across the gardens. “Well, he’s definitely gone.”
“Follow him. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
Sam put the phone down and sprinted after Maxi. His brindle colouring made it almost impossible to see him in the darkness.
For the first time since her fifteenth birthday, Sam debated shifting into her wolf form.
It was an initiation ceremony on all werewolves fifteenth birthdays that they turn in front of their family. The process is done in front of the other family members in their wolf form and allows for them to recognise one another in their alternate bodies.
However, Sam’s family had been subjected to a curse centuries ago. It affected the females only. Not only were they cursed to only ever have two offspring, but they were also cursed in lessening their fertility chances with each shift.
Sam’s mother, Lily-Rose, insisted she’d shifted hundreds of times and was fine, but it was a chance Sam wasn’t prepared to risk.
Now though, with her best friend’s life at stake, Sam figured lessening her chances of pregnancy was a trivial thing.
Standing still, she closed her eyes and tilted her head up towards the night sky. She took a deep breath and allowed the fresh morning air to invigorate every cell within her.
When she imagined herself galloping across the grass with huge, furry paws and a thirst for blood running through her veins, she opened her eyes to see she was doing exactly that.
Her long, grey legs were swallowing the ground with huge strides. Soon enough, she found herself caught up with Maxi.
He turned to look at her as he kept running and in that second, Sam could see and hear his mind.
“Kyla, Kyla, Kyla,” chimed through his head, on repeat like a bad record.
Sam nodded to him which seemed to give him a new burst of speed.
As they crossed the vast expanse of grass, the faint scent of cherries wafted through the air, raising questions in Sam’s mind.
The closer they came to the boundaries of the Worthington estate, the stronger the smell became.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kyla
The little goblin fellow, Borvil I discovered his name was, happened to be not all that bad.
Whilst we waited for my sisters to return, I informed him of the fact that I lived on the estate he was currently also living on.
“I would dare to suggest brokering a deal,” I said. “After all, you are living on my land and I can make things either exceptionally pleasant or exceptionally unpleasant for you.”
He laughed. “And what makes you think you’re even going to be alive after your sisters have finished with you?”
“Because someone will come for me before they kill me.”
“You sound awfully confident.”
“Because I’m awfully right. My dog, my familiar, for one, will alert people to the fact that something’s up. With his nose, he’ll pick up my scent from miles away. Let alone the psychic connection we have.”
A stream of foreign words left his mouth which I presumed were curse words in his own language. “You damn witches. Full of evil tricks and wicked sorcery.”
I resisted my urge to laugh. “And how are you any different? You gave my sisters something to curb my powers. That’s evil trickery.”
“No. That’s knowing how to best your opponent.”
“However you look at it, it’s a nasty little trick.”
“What do you want me to do? I can’t let you go. They serve Lilith. Do you know what Lilith does to goblins who betray her or her precious Lamia?”
I shook my head.
“She eats them. But not whole, not even cut in half. She lays them out on a table and carefully cuts into them, slowly eating them alive, muscle by muscle.” He peered at me, his nose inches from mine. “And there’s no pain relief.”
“Well it’s not like there’s much to you so I can’t imagine it would take long.”
His eyes swarmed blood red but as soon as the colour appeared, it disappeared. “Mocking my lack of height is not going to help you win a deal.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I apologise.”
“The best I can do is loosen your restraints. Except for the rope around your neck. That must stay or they’ll know it was me that helped you.”
“What do you want in return?”
“A lifetime supply of mud pies and leather shoes.”
I burst out laughing. “You are joking me?”
“No,” he said, frowning.
“So I barely get any help and you want a lifetime supply of something? You got to do better than that, fella.”
“What do you want?”
“If you send word for my grandfather, I’ll give you a lifetime supply of whatever you want. Hell, I’ll even plant more trees for you and corner this part of the estate off. Strictly off limits to anyone but me.”
“DEAL!”
His surprise shout made me jump. Bingo. “Do you know my grandfather?”
“Yes, your sister mentioned him when we spoke last night. Malpass?”
I nodded and grinned.
“Is he going to kill my messengers when I send for him?”
“Depends how nice they are to him.”
Borvil shivered. “I’ll send them now. They better return in one piece.”
“Don’t you need his address?”
“My dear, goblins can sense dark magick like a dog senses raw meat. We know where he is.”
“Nice doing business with you, Borvil.”
He stepped into my line of sight and cut the restraints around my ankles. “I’ve never helped a witch before. Don’t make me regret this.”
“You helped my sisters,” I said, laughing.
“No. They brought me gifts. I’m obliged to help them in return. You have given me nothing yet.”
“You have my word, Borvil. Hopefully this will be the beginning of a long and happy relationship.”
He mumbled something to himself, in his own language, as he disappeared into the darkness.
At least, for now, I had gained the upper hand again.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Malcolm and Lily were enjoying a peaceful Monday evening, watching the regular weekday soaps and all the tragedies that play out in them.
“Don’t you think,” said Lily. “That sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction?”
“It’s always that way, dear,” replied Malcolm. “Hell, if the humans knew half of the reality they fantasised about, their heads would explode.”
Lily laughed. “That’s very true. I guess the saving grace is that fiction has to make sense, but reality never does.”
Malcolm mused over her point for a moment. “That’s very true. It’s odd really, isn’t it? You follow a character through a story and every little thing has to be tied up into reasoning and motivati
on, yet in reality, the answers aren’t always there but it’s acceptable. Sometimes, someone killing someone is a simple case of ‘because he felt like it,’ yet in fiction there has to be something underlying to it.”
“The human mind is a constant marvel of mystery. I don’t think anyone will ever understand it.”
“I don’t think I want to.”
Lily chuckled. “Cup of tea, dear?”
“Yes, please.”
Lily rose from her warm, comfortable seat on the plush sofa and wandered into the kitchen.
Still using an old-fashioned whistle kettle and an aga for hot water, she switched the stove on and filled the red pot before settling it over the burning ring.
When she turned to her left to retrieve two mugs from the cupboard, she opened the door and screamed.
Malcolm was at her side in seconds. “What’s wrong?”
Lily, with one hand over her chest, pointed inside the cupboard. “Damn goblins.”
She backed away and allowed a violent shiver to take control of her body. The nasty little creatures gave her more chills than a spider.
Malcolm reached inside the cupboard and picked one of the five goblins up. Squashed between his thumb and forefingers, the dirty critter growled and hissed at him.
“What the hell are you doing in my home?”
The goblin currently being squashed waved a white handkerchief in front of his face.
Malcolm narrowed his eyes at him but set him back down next to his friends. “What?”
“We come in peace. We have a message for you.”
Lily turned back around, her gut feeling telling her that something was wrong. “Kyla,” she breathed. “Something’s wrong.”
The goblin nodded at Malcolm. “She sent for you. She’s in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Two Lamia have kidnapped her and have her held hostage.”
“Where?”
The goblin faltered. “In our domain.”
“You’re getting involved in other creature’s business?” Malcolm leaned forwards, glaring at the small creature. “Why the hell isn’t Kyla using her powers?”
Unleashing Vampires: A paranormal revenge novel (Unleashing Series Book 2) Page 9
