Revenant: Black Rose Files Book 2 (The Black Rose Files)

by Ira Robinson

  The problem was, she did not want to have to deal once more with the Society. Its trappings and spite, its snobbery and methods grated at her in so many ways. She had to regard them as a necessary evil, something as a means to an end to use and walk away from.

  If she could walk away.

  That was the rub, and what chased her in the trail of spray as she drove through the orchard. In spite of herself, and against all of her better judgment, the mystery around the place piqued her curiosity.

  So many secrets buried within the walls and her family had been a major part of them. Could she easily walk away from what she might learn while in their company? Could she give up the chance to exhume what had been kept from her for so long?

  There were no other cars as she made her way among the trees, no other indication anyone had been through in some time. But that lack of evidence could be deceptive when it came to the Society and the tricks they had up their sleeve.

  For all she knew, they were already aware of her approach and preparing a response to her presence.

  The by-now familiar pathway did not take her as long to traverse and she soon found herself facing the ancient building once more, its dark stone and wood facade brooding at the center of the clearing. She let the car stop, the gravel beneath the tires crumbling and grinding as they stopped turning. The same strange bank of fog, the abruptness with which it held halfway through her back seat, amazed her, as did the seeming sanctity of the secluded place cradled within.

  A few other cars were parked in the lot, some of which were different than the last she remembered being there, but there were the familiar plain white sedans she had come to recognize as "official" vehicles for the Black Rose. She marked them in her mind for later, in case she ran across them again in town.

  She saw no one outside, none waiting to greet her or to send her away.

  No matter. She was sure, in a place like this, with as many chambers and catacombs it had, there would always be someone there. It was a hive of activity, all burbling, literally, beneath the surface.

  Sam tapped the gas softly, edging into the lot from the dirt path, leaving the thick fog bank behind. She pulled into a spot near the front door of the building and shifted into park. She put the keys in her pocket and got out. As she did, she slipped the small journal belonging to her father into the sleeve of her coat. The weight of it against her arm gave her a strange comfort; the way it was nestled, it would not easily fall out.

  Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for what she needed to do, before crossing the pavement of the parking lot to the door of the Black Rose Society.

  The light of day brought the damages in the surface of the stone to a harsh contrast, making it evident the age of the building was far beyond that of any other place around. The oldest homes and estates could not compete with this. Cracks were everywhere, and she wondered how it could have ever stood as long as it had. One tremor in the ground looked like it could threaten the fall of the stones standing as high as it did.

  Maybe there was some kind of magic at work on it, too, as there obviously was with the bank of fog only a few short yards away.

  Sam reached out and tried to get the door open, but the knob did not turn; the lock holding it fast was not going to budge to her.

  She frowned a bit as she pounded her hand against the dark wood, shattering the silence of the day. A few birds perched atop the building protested loudly before falling back into an uneasy peace.

  Nerves on edge, she waited for a few moments before hitting again. The wooden door barely moved as she did.

  Finally, there as a scraping from inside and, after another moment, it swung ajar. She backed away a step and peered around the frame, glimpsing a tall man, his eyes squinting against the brighter light of day.

  "What?" she heard his grating voice ask.

  "I'm Samantha Miller," she offered by way of response.

  "I know who you are." He did not open the door any further, remaining on the other side of the barely opened portal. "What do you want?"

  "I need to talk to someone," she said, not really knowing who she should see. Tamara would probably be the best, but she would likely have to go through Mortimer. She shrugged her shoulders, the coat on her body shifting slightly.

  "Wait here," he ordered, before closing the door, putting the locks back into place. She listened for his footsteps walking away but none came through the thick wood and stone embracing him.

  She stepped from the door and the path. She looked around, distracting herself from the impatience of lingering for the man to return.

  The small windows along the wall offered nothing for her to peer through. Each edged a little too high for her to see properly, and whatever was on the inside was obscured from her, anyway. If there was any light within the rooms beyond, it was either too dim to compete with the sunlight streaming into the clearing or was turned off entirely.

  But the chance to look around in better illumination offered interesting finds, including the symbol of the embossed rose carved into the stone in many places, etched deeply into the hard surfaces. There were also other symbols, unrecognizable to her, seemingly placed at random throughout the whole wall.

  She assumed flower was nothing more than an identifier for the Society, but the others were confusing. What could they mean? Were they merely decorative, or did they hold some sort of deeper meaning?

  She checked her watch and saw more than ten minutes passed since the man closed the door behind himself and disappeared into the depths of the building. Her already frayed nerves sprung into action, and she forced her steps angrily to it, beating once again.

  As the echo of it faded, she listened again for the sound of foot falls within. There were none, but her ears did latch on to something else.

  The fervent cries and distant chattering of birds and other small critters became whispers, as well, leaving silence in their wake.

  She stepped away from the building once more, looking around. Were they disturbed by a car on the road leading to the lot?

  There was none, but a cloud of another sort began to cross the threshold of the trees. it was alive, and full of chaos.

  Sam's eyes darted from one side to the other; each direction, the sky above was being blocked out by the masses of bodies, small and large, approaching. The birds still remaining in the area were swiftly taking flight, darting away from the onrushing flood.

  Her heart sank as the dread grasped hold of her. Even here, in this place supposedly safe, he was coming.

  They would be there in mere moments, and she tried to use the time to dash back to the door. She beat on it over and over, kicking it as she screamed for someone to come, someone to let her in.

  But there was nothing, no response from inside and no opening of the door to give shelter from the coming storm upon the clearing.

  At first only a few landed on the stone walls of the building, crawling along as they tested the surface beneath their legs. As the seconds passed, droves of them took their places on the face of the headquarters until there was little left but the bugs to be seen.

  She put her back to the door, readying herself for the swarm to set upon her. A few small tears escaped as the fear rushed through her, knowing a place for her to be safe from these things was only inches away, yet may as well have been miles.

  The light from the sun in the clearing dimmed as the morass of bodies took over the sky completely, surrounding the whole as a dome of black. As each second passed, it grew thicker, leaving only small cracks as their shells darted back and forth among each other. She whirled as the first few crawling down the stone reached her and began fluttering in her hair, vying for a place to perch and twitch across her scalp.

  Sam flung her arms to her head, scrabbling at her hair to get them out as panic burst from her guts. She squealed, opening her mouth as she did, and one of them took that weakness to fly in. She gagged it up as it dove for her throat, spitting the thing to the ground at her feet, bu
t there were multitudes to take its place.

  She hiked her coat over her head, using it to shelter herself from the brunt of the creatures as they tried to find any vulnerability to take advantage of.

  The din of them dulled when she pressed the thick cloth of the coat to her ears, keeping the things from getting inside of her that way, but more crawled up across her back and her stomach. She desperately wanted to scrape them aside but if she did, they would find her face once more.

  A few moments later, they stopped, backing from her one by one until she could feel no more of them on her skin. The buzzing and clicking lost its edge.

  Sam stayed as she was for a moment, waiting for the next attack to come, but, when it did not, she brought the coat down from her head slowly. Her eyes, wide and horrified, looked around.

  A few feet away, the revenant stared at her with ember hollows and skeletal, leering grin.

  Her stomach dropped as she took him in. It was him, but he seemed different in so many ways.

  The frayed overcoat hung loosely from his decayed body, the fringes of it thin and so worn she could see through most of it. The hat on his head, too, was threadbare in a few spots. Everything about him showed he had no right to exist, no way to be in the flesh, but he stood by her nonetheless.

  What terrified her the most, beyond the bones and decomposed muscles, farther than the trickling pus and scent of fetid decomposition, was how he seemed more solid than he ever had before. There was nothing spirit left in him. He was fully there, made complete, brought into being by the energy of the fear she felt even now. It exuded from her, a physical thing.

  The bugs were his and his alone, under his utter control. For all their wildness, they obeyed their master standing before her, and he wanted her all for himself, using them only to inflict panic on her to feast upon.

  He walked toward her, the boots he wore, leather and black with rot, scraped across the ground. The grass below him wilted at his touch, dissolving from dingy green to oozing in a matter of seconds.

  She backed up but the the door behind her blocked her from going any further. His grin flashed, the small bits of skin at the edges of his teeth pulling away to reveal the awful dark maw.

  He stepped again, coming within a few feet of her, and she dashed, her coat swinging wildly as she moved. But she did not want to leave her back to him, so she turned to stare at him, waiting to see what he would next do.

  She tried to keep her fear in check, not wanting to lose control over herself again. She could not do it, could not let that happen. If she did, all would be lost.

  She was not going to go down without a fight. Not now that she was so close to being free of this horrible thing standing before her.

  He lunged toward her, his hand outstretched to grasp any part of her he could. She ducked away from it, rolling across the ground as the talons that were once his fingers closed.

  The crunch of bugs beneath her body reverberated, but she brought herself back up to her feet before he could pounce down. She took the chance to kick his form, gritting her teeth as the pressure of it moved him, even if it was only slight.

  Sam tumbled once more as he leaped for her, using both arms in an attempt to wrap them around her. A few strands of her hair were ripped out, snared in his claws and she screeched as the pain caught her by surprise.

  It unbalanced her for a moment and he took the chance to surge once more, so fast she barely saw the movement before he slammed into her, bashing against her chest. She lost her footing altogether, slamming against the ground with a huff of air forced out of her mouth.

  It dazed her, and the revenant of her father tore into her shoulder with his talons, ripping the coat and the shirt beneath.

  Her flesh was rendered open, ragged scrapes tracing from the top of her shoulder to the center of her chest and the suffering flared in her instantly. It was acid in her veins, burning more intensely than anything she had ever felt before.

  She yelped again as the haziness in her head cleared with the agony. She tried to roll away from him but the pressure of his body against hers was too strong and she could not move more than a small shift.

  "Fa-" she tried to gasp out the words. "Father... stop!" Her chest burned as her voice finally managed to stifle out.

  She felt the push on her give way at the words and shoved him off, seizing the chance to struggle. She rolled and kicked at the same time, connecting with the center of his own chest.

  Sam got to her feet before he could recover, gasping for breath as she watched for what he would do next. She could not do this long; she was already wearing thin, waning against his assault.

  She heard noise behind her, but she could barely spare the look to see what it was. Her father was standing again, the grimace on his own face returning to the familiar skinless grin.

  The sound came again as he bore a step closer, seeming more wary of her now than he had been before. The fear inside of her ratcheted down a notch as she realized it meant the monster might just be vulnerable in some way.

  It did not last, though, as he rushed her again, this time grasping both of her arms in his, as he had done when he attacked her in her room. Her body was pushed backward into the stone wall of the building behind her. Dust and leaves from the plants around her scattered, covering her face and hair before falling away to the ground beneath her with her struggles and cries.

  A droning intonation came from her right as the revenant gripped her arms tighter. He brought his face closer to her own, dark breath wafting into her nostrils. Her own gagged in her throat with the odor, the bile making her mouth salivate uncontrollably. Instead of the contents of her stomach, the black wisps of smoke vomited out.

  The voice from nearby grew louder. The grip on her arm loosened. The pressure relieved, lifting some of the pain away as it did. She thrashed weakly, her head turning toward the place it came from.

  Her vision was blurred, and she could see only figures; nothing was clear to her but the desperation with which she fought.

  Whatever was happening, though, seemed to have some effect on the revenant.

  The grip slackened more until, with one last gasp of breath, she shoved against him again and was gratified to feel his hold on her break entirely.

  He backed a step, then two, the ember eyes flitting between her and whoever was near. A frown grew, darkening the pits as the chanting became louder. Word after word flowed into her consciousness, but each one slipped before she could catch their meaning.

  She shoved herself from the wall and used her shoulder to slam into him. He was solid, so strong, but she felt him unbalance, forced backward from her even more.

  His eyes settled on her as a deep growl escaped his being and she was not sure if he was going to come at her again. Sam readied herself for it, bracing her feet against the ground, legs spread apart enough to keep upright if he did.

  Instead of striking, he backed another step, his gaze shifting once more to the chanting figure nearby. The volume rose until the words were almost being screamed and, a long moment later, the horrible vision of her father popped out of existence. As soon as he faded away, the bugs, all of them under his control, began to fly , the blast of it so loud it overcame the still-shouted chants.

  Samantha huffed deeply, trying to catch her breath while she could. She stooped, resting her hands against her knees while waves of nausea ripped through her.

  She spared a glance to the doorway of the building and saw three people standing there, each gawking at the masses of insects flying from sight. Mortimer seemed surprised, while Tamara held her arms still high to the sky, a strange light fading from her fingers.

  The guard who opened the door could not stop staring at Sam's ripped clothing and bloodied chest.

  The world around her spun in circles. She fell to her knees and let everything from her stomach flow to the grass.

  Chapter 32

  "He's actually going to kill me, isn't he?" Samantha asked, her lids heavy with desp
air.

  The room surrounding her, and the people within, were the same as the last time she had been inside the Black Rose, but the mood of it was much different. Sam did not sense the same antagonism as had been there before.

  They had seen for themselves, witnessed with their own eyes the power and fear the revenant of her father exuded. There was no denying his ability and will to destroy not only herself, but devastate anyone that stood in his way.

  While Tamara may have been able to exert some control, as thoughts swirled around, Sam thought it had more to do with the surprise of the situation than anything else. The revenant was so strong, so potent in his dark purpose that the retreat seemed like no victory at all. Only a mere respite, a momentary kink in whatever pathway her father had chosen to put her on.