Ambrose blew out a long, regretful sigh, the triple-barrel wavering a little. “For one glorious moment, they appeared to me; monstrosities created away from the grace of God. Full of the fury of The Pit and ready to do my bidding as their master. But when they passed over the Calling Circle, the magic that defends The Weald transformed them, trapping them inside a glamour spell. It was magic I could not undo. They were useless to me after that.”
“And you didn’t have any more of my blood for your spells.”
“I hired men to kidnap you, but they were unsuccessful.”
“They had to take a number and step in line.” I glanced over at Caleb. “You didn’t know anything about this room until Mr. Sunshine-and-Happiness came along?”
“He threatened my family,” Caleb said. I nodded like I understood, but I didn’t miss the look on his face. It told me he wasn’t sure where his allegiance lay. He wouldn’t like it, but he would hurt me.
“Poor Captain Haskett was most surprised when I confronted him.” Ambrose gave a nasty laugh. “Naturally, at first he was appalled, just as any citizen would be. It is hard to see the path to true greatness. Harder still to do what is necessary. So I simply applied the right amount of pressure.” Ambrose made a clucking sound with his tongue, looking around me and directly at Caleb, eyes like pieces of flint. “It is quiet apparent he never thought I could go through with my threat. Once I realised he had set you on my path, I knew he couldn’t be trusted.”
“You leave my family alone.” Caleb’s voice was a roar as he made a move towards Ambrose. The monk shifted his weapon and Caleb stopped, fists clenched by his side.
“Don’t think I won’t kill you, Captain.”
“I had no choice, Lora.” Caleb’s voice was broken. “I was the one who shot the nephilim in the church. After that, I couldn’t turn back.”
Ambrose shook his sadly. “Collateral damage. Who would have thought to find a Regulator praying in Applecross on that night? Unfortunate, but God understood. I couldn’t allow anyone to interfere.”
Caleb’s shoulders bunched, like he was going rush Ambrose. He gave a yell and sprung forward. I went to follow, to back him up, but Ambrose fired off a shot before I could take a step. The bullet grazed my boot, tearing at the leather. I stopped abruptly, staring down in disbelief.
“These shoes are Italian leather,” I raged. “They were custom made for me.”
Ambrose shifted the gun, pointing it at Caleb. “I have two shots left. One for each of you.”
“I kept my word to you,” Caleb spat.
“You went to her.” Ambrose nodded his head at me. “You set her on the path.”
“I had to keep the pretence of working the case.”
“I think you went a little above and beyond your duty, Captain,” Ambrose murmured. “I considered our deal broken a long time ago.” He pulled the trigger again. I grabbed at Caleb and we fell together. I tried to get to my feet, but Caleb’s movements were sluggish. I rolled him off me and saw my hands were bloodied. Caleb’s face was pale, breathing shallow and a bloody patch on his right side. I pressed his hands against the wound and hoped the bullet hadn’t speared anything important. Taking a breath, I raised my eyes to give Ambrose hard look, getting to my feet, adrenaline helping me forget my weak leg. The smell of Caleb’s blood filled my nostrils and fury roared in my ears. Ambrose’s free hand moved towards a pocket.
“Now I have you, and Key of Aldebaran. Join me, Lady Blackgoat. If you resist, I will be forced to bespell you.”
“I’m taking Caleb out of here and you’re not going to stop me.”
He gave me a gentle smile. “I can’t let you leave, especially not with the Key. I know you have it. I can sense it on you.”
“You’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands.”
Ambrose’s shoulder shifted as he aimed his weapon at me. I fell to the ground as he pulled the trigger, engaging the quick-draw and getting my own shot off. The room went quiet as we stared at each other. I waited to feel pain, but nothing came and I knew he’d missed me. My eyes dropped to his upper chest, where a bloodstain was spreading. I bared my teeth at him in a bloodthirsty smile. The old monk fell to his knees, dropping his useless weapon. He pressed a hand against the wound; looking kind of surprised his day had turned out like this.
I got to my feet, pushing the rig back home. Stepping over Caleb, I picked up the lantern on the desk, raising it over my head and then smashing it down on the table. Fire bloomed over the papers and a whooshing noise filled the room. Heavy croaking came from within the cage and the bars began rattling, the drape shuddering.
“No!” Ambrose shouted, one of his hands fumbling with a salt pouch. I walked over to him, stooping to pick up my cane. Straightening, I bought the stick down on his hands, hearing his fingers break. Ambrose screamed. “I curse you.” He struggled to rise, lips spitting blood. “I curse you to The Pit.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I put a boot into his stomach, pushing him back. Ambrose groaned as I laid a heel on his throat, pressing down. His face turned a funny eggplant colour, his hands thumping against my leg. “Where are the hellspawn?” I demanded. “Where will I find them?”
His eyes rolled in their sockets a couple of times before resting on mine. They had a light in them I didn’t like. I eased my boot off his throat.
“You’ll be too late.” One of his hands clamped around my ankle.
“Too late for what?” I coughed as smoke filled the small room.
“They came for me, wanting the Aldebaran. Said they would kill me.” Ambrose grinned up at me, teeth washed with blood. “So I told them where I had hidden it.”
I tensed. “They’re coming here?”
More blood trickled out of his mouth. I knew the bullet had most likely hit his lungs and he was beginning to drown. A vicious part of me was happy I’d inflicted this slow death. Justice, it told me, I’d passed down justice.
“Are they coming here?” I repeated angrily.
“I told them that I’d hidden the book at our good Captain’s home.”
I stilled at his words, thinking of Caleb’s family. “Why would you do that?”
Ambrose snarled at me, his eyes wild. “Retribution for his betrayal and his children’s blood will be on your hands.”
Ice crawled up my spine, my limbs freezing still. “You’re insane.”
“A punishment for his sins!” Ambrose cried, his voice becoming strong. He struggled under my foot. “The hellspawn act as the hand of the One True God.”
The ice in my limbs thawed to a grating panic. I stepped back, releasing the old man. Ambrose rolled to his side, clutching his throat and coughing. “Take me to the infirmary,” he begged. “I need my brother to see to me.”
I bent over and picked up my belt, buckling it back on. I tucked my cane in the back of my belt, and pulled Caleb towards the tunnel.
“You can’t leave me here.” Ambrose began to crawl after us. The fire grew, flames sweeping up the walls, over the old books and parchments in the bookcases and consuming them indiscriminately.
I pulled Caleb’s unconscious body down the short corridor, batting aside the vines as it reached for us. I shoved the bookcase open with my shoulder, when a shout made me look up, breathing hard. Ambrose was in the tunnel. One hand was pressed against his bloodied chest, the other groping in front of him as he swayed forward, brushing against the vine. As if woken by his touch, the vines began to hiss and vibrate. A green tentacle close to his foot uncoiled, reaching for him. The old monk did not notice until it had wrapped itself firmly around his ankle, and by then it was too late. Shrieking, he tried to kick it off, but the vine held tight and was soon joined by others, wrapping around him like vengeful snakes. With a final heave, I tumbled out of the tunnel with Caleb.
“Mercy!” Ambrose cried, reaching to me with bloodstained fingers.
“No.” I kicked the bookcase shut against the firestorm in that little room of nightmares, hearing Ambrose scream.
&
nbsp; Chapter 44
Dragging Caleb out of his office, I yelled for help. Constables appeared in the hallway with confused looks that turned to alarm when they spotted the smoke. Some ran, calling for water, a few others pushed past us to get into the room, looking for the source of the fire.
I slumped down beside Caleb. Two Constables knelt beside me, one unbuttoning Caleb’s jacket and pressing against the wound in his side. Caleb opened his eyes and blinked a few times, before his eyes fixed on me. “What happened?” His voice was a dry croak.
“I set the room on fire.”
“Ambrose?”
“I shot him in the chest, he should be dead by now.”
“Just relax,” one of the Constables told Caleb in a calm voice. “We’ve got to get you to a hospital.”
I wrapped my hand around Caleb’s. My throat was raspy and raw. “He sent the hellspawn to your home.”
Caleb’s face twisted in horror. “Lora?” he started, but couldn’t finish the plea. He didn’t have to. I gave his hand a quick kiss and stood, pulling my cane loose. I shoved past the constables forming a water-line, passing buckets between them, water slopping on the floor.
In the main room, I spied a little Mercury boy in a crowd of lookie-loo’s. Pulling him aside, I shove all the money I had on me into his hands. His eyes popped, staring down at the cash.
“Find Captain Seth Hallow,” I said. “Tell him to get to Caleb Haskett’s home on Pinker Street. Tell him the hellspawn are going to kill his family. Tell him Lora Blackgoat needs him.”
The little goblin’s eyes grew even bigger under his dirty little cap. Then he gave me a crisp salute and sprinted off, out of my sight in seconds. Despair sat like a thick sludge in my stomach. How was I going to beat the hellspawn to Caleb’s house? What kind of head start did they have? Would a rickshaw get me there in time? I needed something faster. I stumbled into the courtyard lit by gas lamps, desperation eating at me. The willow bark extract was beginning to wear off and I was beginning to feel every single one of my aches, cuts, breaks and bruises. One of the horses tethered nearby lifted its head to give me a dirty look, tail flicking. He looked big. He looked fast.
“Fuck.” I tucked my cane back in my belt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
*
I arrived at Caleb’s home ten minutes later. My arse and thighs felt abused, and not in a good way. The horse was as fast as he looked, but impossible to control. We had knocked down pedestrians, crashed through street vendors and a pack of stray dogs had chased us through the meat district. But fuck it, I was here. Pulling the reins hard enough they cut into my skin, we came to a stop outside Caleb’s house. Hoisting my good leg over, I fell to the ground with one foot catching up in the stirrup. Eating pavement, I cursed and shook my foot loose. Freeing my cane, I pulled myself up the footpath, grunting each time I put weight on my bad leg, pain radiated up to my hip in waves.
The front door wasn’t locked. Almost sobbing, I threw myself inside. What would I do if I were too late? Knowing it was me who was responsible for the hellspawn coming to The Weald?
The scene that met my eyes nearly sent me to my knees with wild relief. Three little boys and Pigtails were playing marbles under the kitchen table. Ester was stirring a pot on the stove and the baby was playing with a wooden spoon at her feet. Her shock at seeing me quickly dissolved into anger. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes dropped to the blood. Caleb’s blood and she gasped.
I pulled my sword free from my cane. “Get your kids. We’ve got to run. Now.”
The kids under the table peered up at me with curious eyes, then looked at their mother. Ester dropped the spoon she was stirring with and scooped up the baby.
“Why should I trust you?”
“Caleb sent me.”
Her eyes went to the blood on me and her face paled. “Is he alright?”
“He’s been shot, but he’ll be alright.” I made a move towards the kids. “We have to go and I mean now.”
Ester’s eyes traced the desperation in my face. She turned to the kids. “We’ve got run, children. The Bad Man is coming.”
“Can’t we hide?” Pigtails crawled out from under the table. She looked as scared as I felt. “He won’t find us if we hide.”
I picked her up and my lame leg shuddered. “It’s not the Bad Man coming. It’s something worse.” I looked to Ester. The boys were clutching at her skirts, eyes wide and afraid. “Back door?”
“This way.” Ester herded the boys down the small hallway that ran beside the kitchen. A door with hat hooks sat at the end, sided by an umbrella stand and straggly sets of small shoes. A heavy thump came from the other side of the door, making it rattle on its hinges. Pigtails buried her head in my shoulder. Ester stared at me, panic making her mouth slack.
“The front door,” I hissed.
We hustled the kids back down the hallway and to the front of the house. I pulled everyone to a stop.
“What?” Ester whispered. “What is it?”
I held a hand up, trying to listen over my own harsh breathing. Then we all heard it. A scraping sound behind the front door, like someone running long fingernails down it.
Sweat trickled down the side of my face. I put a hand on Ester’s arm. “You’ve got to hide.”
Ester gave a nod and passed me the baby. I put Pigtails down and took the little one, watching as Ester kicked aside the living room rug. A trapdoor sat in the wooden floor near the fireplace.
“It’s a coal cellar,” Ester whispered as she pulled the door up. She ushered the children down the stairs. I passed her the baby and she followed them. I waited, making sure everyone was down the stairs, then closed the door, trying to ignore the pale faces staring up at me. I put the carpet back and then collapsed against the cold fireplace, feeling like a fool. I should not have confronted Caleb by myself. Gideon had told me to have someone watch my back and I’d ignored him. Now I was alone, facing creatures that I knew I couldn’t defeat. Even Crowhurst would have been a welcome face. Keeping my sword at the ready, I marched over to the front door and yanked it open with all the courage I could muster.
No one was there.
I stepped outside. Tension hitched my shoulders high and butterflies tickled my stomach. The street beyond the short front garden was empty and quiet. Deep black clouds bruised the night sky and thunder rumbling somewhere in the distance. A wind had picked up, ruffling leaves across the rough cobblestones. My eyes caught a shadow shifting in an alleyway across from me. I limped down the front steps and out into the middle of the street, my sword before me. A huge figure lumbered from the alley and it took a moment to understand what I was seeing.
“Hello, little nephilim,” Legara said in a chunky voice. “I am so glad to see you.”
My eyes ran over her body in shock. Legara’s mass had tripled in size. Her face was a swollen mass with a bulbous nose, her neck nothing but rolls of sweating fat. Pendulous breasts rolled as she waddled awkwardly towards me, thighs a quivering mountain of flesh. Her peach gown was shredded Hulk-style and I gagged as the hemline rode up her dimpled thighs as she walked towards me.
“What happened to you?” I took a step back.
Legara rubbed a hand over her huge belly. A swollen pink tongue rolled over her lips and her eyes took on a dreamy look. “The hunger burns inside of me. I cannot find my fill.”
“Sweetheart.” I almost gagged. “I can relate to a little overeating, but you’re the size of a house.”
“Don’t make fun of meeeee!” Her voice ended with an indignant squeal.
I gave her a fierce double-barrel set of dimples, feeling ready for murder. “Then come here, tubby. Let’s sort this out.”
Legara snarled and charged me. I pinched salt with my free hand, ready to cast the strongest hex I knew. Then a crash of furniture and a scream sounded from inside the house. My breath caught. Legara stopped her charge and began to laugh; a grotesque gargling sound.
I spun and ran towards the house, pulling up short
when Kronin opened the front door. Ester’s baby sat in the crook of his arm, crying. From inside the house, I heard the other children sobbing, but nothing from Ester. Kronin looked horrible. His body was a polar opposite of his mate. His hair was thin and ragged, skin stretched sickly tight over his bones. All is muscle and flesh had melted away and he looked like an animated skeleton.
My fingers froze and my sword clattered to the ground, salt spilling from my fingers. Any plan that had been brewing in my mind disappeared, leaving a calm certainty in its wake; I would trade my life for Caleb’s family.
“Give me the baby.” I held my hands out.
Kronin stared down at the child with a hungry look. “We need the magic that runs in your veins, nephilim, and the grimoire.” His rich, baritone voice was gone, his words now a hoarse hush. “We must return home to heal.”
Legara whispered from behind me, “Our master told us the book is in the pretty house. We shall find it. It cannot hide from us.”
“I know where the book is.” I chose my words with care. “I’ll take you to it.”
“She has it! She has it!” Legara lumbered past me and up to Kronin, clapping her mutton hands together, thick upper arm flesh quivering.
“Put down the baby first.”
“Where is the book?” Kronin fixed me with button-bright eyes.
“I said I’ll take you to it.” I relaxed my face, my voice. Put my empty hands in clear view. Not a threat. “Just put the baby down and I’ll take you.”
“Unarm yourself,” Kronin commanded. “I smell weapons on you.” The baby began to cry louder. I pulled the long knife from the sheath at my back without hesitation and threw it away.
“There.” I showed him my empty hands again. “No weapons.”
“She lies.” Legara thrust a finger the size of a sausage at me. For a horrible moment, I thought she’d caught sight of the arm-rig, or could somehow see the blades in the soles of my tanker boots. Then I realised she was pointing to my belt. I unbuckled it and tossed it to one side.
Chaos Born Page 29
