Isabella's Heiress

by N. P. Griffiths

  “No, huh. But you have kissed a boy haven’t you?”

  Again the red cheeks and downward glances told their own story.

  “Hmm, fifteen and never been kissed, huh? Well we’ll have to do something about that won’t we?”

  Lisa wasn’t sure what he meant but if his comment didn’t convey his meaning, the sudden presence of his right arm around her waist clarified things instantly.

  “Simon, I don’t know, your Emma’s ex-boyfriend.”

  “That was ages ago and besides, she doesn’t have to know, does she? This is about you and me, I saw the way you used to look at me when I came over.”

  Lisa wanted to say no but a combination of the drink and her own feelings suddenly coming to the surface combined to produce just enough ambiguity to hold off any response.

  For the first time, she smelt the citrusy aftershave adorning his chin. She would have given anything to be sophisticated enough to be able to name it but as it was, she settled for being in a position to feel its fragrance surround her.

  The next few seconds were a blur as his face came closer. Lisa felt her heart explode in a cacophony of beats per minute as first the smooth skin of Simon’s chin then the firmness of his lips wrought havoc with her senses. She let herself go completely as one new experience after another queued up to wash over her.

  Time stood still as she enjoyed this sudden feeling of adulthood. Was this love? She wasn’t sure but she was happy to accept it for what it was. Slowly Simon’s hands worked their way down to just below her waist and she felt herself being lifted up. His right arm took hold of her left and moved it from round his neck, how had it got there? And started to work its way down his body. The outdoor work had left its mark, thought Lisa, as she let him guide her hand down until, oh god was that his…

  “No, stop, I shouldn’t…”

  But it was too late as a scream reached her from where Emma and Taryn stood.

  The night had been going well as, for once, Emma felt like she might actually pull someone fitter than Taryn. But her sense of elation was short lived as her eyes set upon the sight of Lisa wrapped in the arms of her ex-boyfriend and to make it worse she was fondling his… “BITCH!”

  A molten rage filled Emma as she dropped Pete and stormed towards Lisa, whilst behind her Taryn looked over, first in confusion, then horror as she realised what had happened.

  Lisa’s face was a contorted mixture of different emotions but this was all lost on Emma as she stormed over to her sister and her ex.

  “You complete bastard!” She aimed her attack at Simon but he seemed unfazed by it all, in fact he seemed to be enjoying it.

  “Well what did you expect, you weren’t interested so I settled for Lisa instead.”

  It was a rebuke to far and Emma’s right arm swept round in a perfect circle, her hand slapping Simon’s cheek, the impact being greeted by laughs and cheers from a group of boys leaning against the bar a short way behind them.

  “Em, I’m sorry.” The tears now streaming down her face as she gave her older sister a plaintive look choked Lisa’s words.

  “Shut the fuck up, you evil cow, how could you do this? He’s my ex for Christ’s sake!” Lisa visibly shrunk at her sisters’ response as Simon rounded on Emma.

  “Don’t have a go at her, it’s not as if you were anything special, the only reason I got hold of you was because you were friendly with Taryn. Do you think I would have been interested otherwise?”

  Emma was about to aim another slap at him when her wrist was grabbed from behind and she found herself being shoved forward.

  “I think it’s time you ladies left.”

  Emma realised that they were now surrounded by half a dozen doormen, all of whom were now forming a mini-cordon as they ushered Emma and Lisa through the crowd. Lisa’s tears did nothing to assuage Emma’s pain and her sense of betrayal. It was all she could do not to lash out at her even though she knew it was pointless.

  As they approached the main entrance, Emma looked straight ahead as the pain of what had happened and the embarrassment of everybody watching them being unceremoniously removed from the club threatened to become too much. At the door, they were walked to the cloakroom where Emma passed across the tickets for their coats. For a second Lisa looked like she might be about to say something but a look from Emma put paid to that.

  Taryn appeared behind her and, for a second, all the resentment started to boil up all over again but she knew it wasn’t Taryn’s fault. Emma stormed to the door of the club and flung herself into the night. The car was a little way off but she didn’t wait for the others. Instead she chose to walk the short distance on her own. As her tears mixed freely with the rain, the heat was the only thing to distinguish one from the other.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Samantha’s Indecision

  When Taryn walked downstairs, Emma could see that something wasn’t right. She had sensed over the preceding days that something had changed. Taryn had become more distant and withdrawn and seemed constantly preoccupied when they spoke but it wasn’t like before when she had harboured a simmering resentment and had just ignored her. This was more worrying from Emma’s point of view as it seemed that Taryn was losing the will to carry on. It showed itself more when they were on the train and they were pulling into her stop. Taryn would sink further into the seat until it seemed that she was trying to get it to swallow her up. No amount of questions or encouragement seemed to make any difference apart from the occasional weak smile from Taryn, which wasn’t fooling either of them.

  Emma would watch as she slunk off the train in a manner reminiscent of a child heading to school full in the knowledge that she was in for a beating. She would walk slowly along the platform with blank eyes and a deadpan expression and Emma would find herself craning her neck as the train pulled out, trying to get one last look before her concern for Taryn was replaced by the more pressing concerns for her own fate.

  This morning Emma decided to see if she could get Taryn to open up and made a point of being downstairs early to ensure that she was there when Taryn walked through the door.

  “Morning.”

  “Morning.”

  “You heading out, or are you waiting for Sister Ignacia?”

  “I’m heading out. I need to…I don’t have…” Taryn stopped herself, she looked away and let out a sigh, “Look, Em, would you mind if I went out alone today? It’s just that… well I need some time to think…alone.”

  The word came out in an awkward staccato and at first Emma felt slightly hurt but she could see that Taryn wasn’t finding this easy.

  “Of course, whatever works for you. Erm, see you tonight?”

  “Yeah, see you tonight.” Taryn turned and headed out the door without saying another word and Emma had to fight the urge to follow. She ran over the events that had taken place in the last few days and tried to work out what had caused her to retreat into her shell like this. It had only been in the last week or so that the change had occurred, ever since Emma had come back from her parents in a depression brought on by the jammed jewellery box. Since then Father Eamon had been refining her telepathy in an effort to allow her to force the jewellery box open. Unfortunately this hadn’t been working and the last trip had ended with Father Eamon saying something about trying a different approach.

  “Morning, Emma.”

  Emma looked up to see Father Eamon walking up to her. “Oh, morning.”

  “You seemed perturbed, what is the problem?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s Taryn, she’s changed in the last few days and I can’t work out if it’s something I’ve done or not.”

  “I wouldn’t concern yourself with Taryn at the moment. We have more pressing matters.”

  They headed out into the realm and Emma found herself standing under the eaves of the Boars Head tavern with all the familiar smells working their way through her nose and throat.

  Water dripped from the edge of the first floor and formed a fetid pool at
Emma’s feet. She sidestepped this as they walked towards Thames Street. It was 9 o’clock in the morning and people would normally have been in the streets making conversation, whilst throwing sidelong looks at Emma but all that had changed since news had got out about the Soul Gorger. Now, the most Emma could expect was the occasional twitching curtain or the odd person looking out from an alley. This changed when they reached the main roads. Here people came out into the street but turned away or rushed into a nearby open doorway to avoid them. It seemed everybody new about the impending arrival.

  Nobody wanted to be associated with her. Even Elizabeth’s house had been empty on the occasions that Emma had passed it and she was starting to pine for the attention she had got when she first entered the plane.

  Just as they passed a fishmonger, Emma caught a glimpse of movement on a rooftop behind her, reflected in the broken and dirty windows. She whipped round only to see an empty space where she was sure there had just been a person.

  “What is it?” Father Eamon was looking over Emma’s head and studying the rooftops.

  Emma pointed towards a set of chimneys where three columns of grey smoke drifted lazily up before intertwining and disappearing into the half-light, “I’m sure I saw someone on the rooftop over there.”

  “Someone? Or something?”

  “Does it make a difference?”

  “Yes, the Soul Gorger will not look like a person and the chances are that we will not see it on a rooftop. It is too stealthy for that.”

  Great, Emma thought, my day just keeps on getting better.

  “No it was definitely a person; at least I thought it was.”

  Father Eamon stepped out into the street and checked the surrounding rooftops. Emma caught a fleeting glimpse of movement in an alleyway on the opposite side of the road.

  “There!”

  Father Eamon turned towards the alleyway but stopped. He looked towards Emma but his gaze passed her by and carried on up the building behind her until it settled on a spot. He stepped back and Emma went to follow him.

  “You must be Ambrosia.”

  A woman was floating down from the roof but as Emma looked, she could see that she wasn’t floating so much as gently lowering herself with the aid of a huge set of wings which gently beat out a slow undulating rhythm until her feet touched the ground without a sound.

  “I am. I have been sent by Odysseia.”

  “I’ve been expecting you for a while now.”

  “Odysseia sends her apologies. This creature has been hard to follow; it knows how to cover its tracks well.”

  Ambrosia looked around her and Emma could see discomfort in her eyes.

  “How did you find the journey here?” Father Eamon was also looking around “We should step into the shop.” He motioned to the building that Emma had just walked away from.

  They walked inside and Emma gagged on the smell of rotting fish as Father Eamon and this woman stepped to the back of the shop and continued their conversation. Emma looked the newcomer up and down; still not sure she could believe what she was seeing. This woman must have been seven foot tall and had hair that fell in waves across her shoulders. Her slender frame, covered in a tunic of white and gold, was offset by the muscular tone of her exposed arms and legs but it was what she carried in her right hand that caught Emma’s eye. It looked like a long spear, although she couldn’t be sure in the dimness of the hall. There was no mistaking the bow in her other hand. Emma found her stare being returned and for a second looked away, unable to hold this woman’s gaze but as she looked back, she saw that the eyes of this stranger had a quizzical look in them. Emma felt a peculiar sensation as though warm treacle was making its way in to her stomach. It wasn’t unpleasant but it wasn’t totally welcome either as she was sure that it came from the woman in front of her.

  “There is no need to search Emma, Ambrosia.” Father Eamon chided the woman and instantly the sensation left.

  “Forgive me; sometimes I do it without thinking.”

  “There is nothing to forgive; you managed to get to us in time.”

  “Well, let us hope that it will do some good. Odysseia has also said that she is willing to send a cohort of her guards to deal with this assassin should you so require.”

  Father Eamon’s eyes took on the distant look that Emma always saw when he was mulling something over. “That will not be necessary; I fear that sending a cohort of angels into the realm is just the excuse the Cado Angelus are looking for to send in their own forces. You took a big enough chance in coming here on your own.”

  Angels! Emma wasn’t sure at first that she had heard him correctly but there was no denying what her eyes were telling her. The woman was unnaturally tall and try though she might Emma couldn’t see a single imperfection on her, although that could be down to the lack of light in the room she told herself. The clincher however were the wings. They extended out from her shoulder blades and arched upwards for a further foot above her head before sloping gently out in an elegant arc, the grey feathers rippling each time Ambrosia moved.

  Emma wanted to ask her if she was truly an angel but was overcome with shyness and felt pangs of embarrassment just at the thought of speaking to her.

  Father Eamon and Ambrosia turned and headed back towards the door and this, inevitably, meant back towards Emma. The closer Ambrosia got the more embarrassed Emma became.

  When they were side by side, Ambrosia turned and tilted her head towards Emma. As she did so, her hair dropped down and tickled Emma’s shoulder. “Good luck, Emma, we are counting on you to join us.”

  “Erm…yeah, right, thanks.” Emma didn’t know what else to say. She felt so awkward, it was all she could do not to look at the floor and shuffle her feet.

  Ambrosia left the shop closely followed by Father Eamon. They exchanged a few more words before the angel extended her wings and took off. Emma hurried out of the shop and looked up to follow her flight but by then she had already disappeared in to the sullen sky.

  Father Eamon’s gaze shifted to the surrounding buildings. Curtains shuffled and doors closed as they walked back into the fishmonger’s doorway. Emma immediately wished they had found somewhere else as the smell of the shop burnt the back of her throat. She was still flustered at the meeting with Ambrosia and had trouble talking.

  Father Eamon smiled. “Take your time. ‘Tis natural for you to become flustered in the presence of an angel. You are only human.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “Not for a long time. Once you leave this realm, all those feelings will pass.”

  “Why would I want to lose all my emotions?” Emma wasn’t sure she wanted to be some emotionless automaton, it hardly sounded like progression to her.

  “You won’t lose all of them, just the ones that you felt in Ambrosia’s presence.”

  “So angels really exist.”

  “Yes, they really do.”

  Emma stood there, trying to take in what had just happened. “Are there more like her?”

  “Many thousands.”

  Emma tried to imagine a sky full of angels. She let it stay there, blotting out her current predicament, before she came back to the present.

  “Why was she here?”

  “Ambrosia came to give me news. The Soul Gorger is a day away; it will be with us soon.”

  Emma’s heart sunk. All the time this had been spoken about, there had been a possibility in her mind that it would be captured or killed or that it might just get bored and not turn up. Assuming it was possible to kill something that had a name that sounded to Emma like it should belong to a bad heavy metal band. She felt the feelings of despair return but Father Eamon placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Emma, these are dark times for you but you must have faith that we can deal with this. I have been around a long time and have seen many things which men have no idea exist. I have defeated them, sometimes with help sometimes on my own. This is just one more of those occasions. There are many people here w
ho would ensure that when it arrives, it would fail.”

  Emma took little comfort from his words. She turned towards the door and looked at the sky, convinced that it had darkened since she had walked back in.

  “So what do we do now?”

  “We know that it will be here tomorrow, so we are safe today. Angels are tracking it but have been unable to get close enough stop it. We will have to deal with it ourselves.”

  “Yeah, because that’s going to be a fair fight. Just you, me and the assassin from hell. Why can’t we just stay in the sanctuary until it’s dealt with?”

  Father Eamon paused for a second, “Your time is short and all it will do is wait for us in the plane. Once it is here, it will hide itself until such time as it sees an opportunity to strike. If we are to defeat it then we must bring it out in the open and to do that, we must carry on as normal.”

  “So what you’re saying is that you need me to act as bait to lure this thing into the open. This thing which by Sister Ignacia’s own admission no one has seen in three hundred years and has no idea how to stop.”

  “We will not be going out unprotected I can assure you. Wait until we head back to the sanctuary tonight and you will understand.”

  Emma knew that there was nothing else she could say, so decided to leave it at that. For now she was willing to give Father Eamon the benefit of the doubt.

  The rest of the journey passed without incident, despite Emma jumping like a startled rabbit at every sound that was not created by her or Father Eamon. By the time the train pulled away, she was a nervous wreck and Father Eamon had to calm her down.

  “Emma, you are safe. It cannot touch in this world and I promise you it will not touch you in ours.”

  Emma withdrew into a shell and stayed there until they arrived at Dulwich North. When the train slowed, she got up and headed towards the double doors.

  At Red Post Hill, Father Eamon placed an arm around Emma’s shoulder and guided her across the road but instead of turning left as they reached East Dulwich Grove, Father Eamon carried on down towards Dulwich Village.