Danville Horror: A Pat Wyatt Novel (The Pat Wyatt Series Book 3)

by Laura Del

  “She thought it was funny that I had faked me own death ta elope with ‘er. Then she said somethin’ dat broke me heart. She told me dat she never loved me, dat she was just playin’ with me ta get on ‘er father’s nerves, and was confused why I ‘ad gone so far fur ‘er. I tried ta explain that I was in luv with ‘er, but she just stood d’are and laughed again. After some beggin’ on my end, she screamed at me ta get out and I did.”

  “What a bitch,” I blurted, and he looked at me funny. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that aloud.”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay. She broke me heart, so bitch is fair. But I got over it. However, when Samuel found out, he laughed at me, and I almost killed ‘em. Then ‘e explained that it would have never worked between us and dat he was confused as ta why I hadn’t killed ‘er on the spot. He explained dat when ‘e first was made, ‘e killed two people in one night. I didn’t ‘ave dat urge. But when I settled down from all the excitement, I was hungry. Very hungry. Samuel ran with me over ta Dublin, and we found a pub where d’are was lots of drunks around. We went inta the back alley where ‘e told me ta wait. The next t’ing I knew, he was pulling dis barmaid out by ‘er hair. He threw ‘er at me, and commanded that I feed. I did, but I only drank as much as I needed, not as much as I wanted. And when I was done, she was still alive. ‘Course ‘e got angry and started shoutin’ at me ta kill ‘er, but I refused. And I haven’t killed anyone ta this day.”

  “Bastard,” I muttered to myself, finally realizing something.

  “Excuse me?”

  I shook my head, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Not you. Samuel said that you were a great warrior. Now I understand why he laughed to himself.”

  He nodded. “His big joke. He’s such a feckin’ arsehole.”

  “You can say that again.”

  We were silent for a while, and my mind wandered. The little voice in my head urged me to ask Mortimer something that I had a feeling he would know about. “Mortimer?”

  “Yes,” he answered with a smile.

  “How long were you with Samuel?” I started out easy.

  He sighed. “Ten long years. Why?”

  “Did he ever mention why he is the way he is? I mean, I’ve met Mariah, so I know part of the reason, but he’s so much more…” my voice trailed away until I finally found the right word, “vicious than he needs to be. Do you know why?”

  He averted his gaze and said, “No, I have no clue.”

  “You’re lying to me again, Mortimer.”

  “How do ye know dat?” he asked, finally looking at me again.

  “You have an easy tell,” I explained. “You look away when you lie.”

  “Shit,” he hissed, and I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it. But that didn’t stop me.

  “Please, Mortimer,” I begged. “I have to know. It’s driving me crazy.”

  “All right,” he conceded, “but ye ‘ave to promise not ta ask any questions.”

  “I promise,” I said. But really this was me we were talking about. The questions would come, and he would have to answer them whether he liked it or not.

  I saw him think about this for a second, realized what he was getting himself into, and he continued anyway. “The night before ‘e dropped me off at Kathryn’s ‘e told me a story. One dat I will not soon forget. He told me the story of his death and rebirth just as I’m tellin’ it ta ye now. I must warn ye, some parts’re not fur the faint of ‘eart. Are ye sure ye want ta ‘ear this?”

  I nodded defiantly. “Yes.”

  “Right…” he paused, prepared himself, and told the story. “Samuel was born in France and was thirty years old when he married the luv of his life.”

  “I knew it,” I whispered, and he cocked a brow at me. “He said that he never had a wife before. I knew he was lying.”

  “It was a long time ago, Patricia,” he clarified, “and ‘e doesn’t like ta talk ‘bout it. It doesn’t make it right, but there ye ‘ave it. Anyway, he married a woman who was ten years young than ‘e was. But ‘e loved ‘er just the same. She completed ‘em, so ‘e said, and I believed ‘em. Four years later, they had a daughter named Marie. After dat, their little family was whole.

  “Ye should’ve seen his face when ‘e talked about them. He lit up inside. I’d never seen ‘em like dat, and I don’t t’ink I ever will again. He was in luv with them, and life went on. ‘Til one day his little gerl was taken from ‘em.”

  When Mortimer said that, I felt awful. “Oh no. What happened?” First question. Promise already broken.

  “We know it now as Scarlet Fever,” he answered. “She was only four. They were devastated, and rightly so. But his wife, Claire, was so distraught dat one day ‘e came home from an outing and found ‘er hangin’ out the winda by the silk sheets.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “After dat he was a mess. He nearly drank ‘emself ta death. Every night he’d go out and he’d get drunk. Even during the day sometimes. Then one night, ‘e met a woman dat told ‘em ‘e was the most beautiful t’ing she’d ever seen. Samuel said it was because ‘e never seemed ta age, even when ‘e was alive. He got ta about twenty-five and looked the same way until she got ‘em.”

  Samuel still looked twenty-five, but I didn’t want to get off track, so all I asked was, “Mariah?”

  “Mariah,” he confirmed. I could imagine her angular features, creepy smile, and sliver streaked black hair, luring Samuel in. She was a soulless goddess, and it wouldn’t have taken much for her to get him and keep him where she wanted him. “All ‘e remembers was comin’ out of a shallow grave three nights later,” Mortimer’s voice shook the images out of my head, bringing me back to the story. “After dat they were inseparable. Mariah taught ‘em dat ta kill was the only way ta feed. But Samuel didn’t like dat. He told me dat ‘e still ‘ad his humanity about ‘em, and ‘e didn’t like killin’ for no reason. In fact, the two people ‘e killed on his first night still haunted ‘em and ‘e couldn’t stand it. He kept on insistin’ ta me dat ‘e didn’t want ta kill, Mariah forced ‘em. She beat it inta his brain dat if ‘e didn’t, she would torture ‘em by pullin’ his fangs out. She’d done it at least six times before, and it takes months fur fangs ta come back in. Meanwhile, she’d starve ‘em and tease ‘em ‘bout it.

  “One night when she was out doin’ ‘er own t’ing, she told ‘em ta go out and find someone ta eat while she was away, and ‘e obeyed. However, ‘e didn’t count on meetin’ a luv’ly duchess who stole his breath away. Figuratively speaking, mind ye. He said dat she was so beautiful and so full of life dat he just knew she was gonna be his salvation. She was gonna save ‘em from ‘emself. So they fell in luv. A vampire and a human. Samuel likes breakin’ the rules, but ‘e couldn’t help it. From the moment ‘e saw ‘er dat was it.

  “A month passed and they had successfully met up without Mariah findin’ out. Then one night, he went ta the inn they frequented and she wasn’t there. He really didn’t t’ink anythin’ of it, she had missed meetin’s before, but when he went back ta his mansion, dat’s where him and Mariah were stayin’, t’ings were off. He could smell fresh blood comin’ from the bedroom. And when he made his way upstairs and inta the room, he saw his duchess hanging from a hook by ‘er bound hands. Her legs were spread wide and she was stark naked. Mariah came out from the shadows behind the door and laughed. She told ‘em dat she had found out his little secret and was ready ta play his game. Then ‘e said his duchess looked at him, pleadin’ ta be let go. When ‘e tried ta help ‘er, Mariah hit ‘em, and ‘e fell backwards. The next t’ing ‘e remembered was bein’ tied with his hands and feet behind his back and bein’ made ta kneel in front of his very injured luv.

  “She was cryin’ so Mariah hit ‘er until she stopped. Then…” he paused, and I could have sworn he took a breath, “then, she smiled down at ‘em, after ‘e begged ‘er ta l
et the duchess go, and all she did was just laugh telling ‘em dat she would make ‘em rue the day ‘e ever strayed. So she took the chair from behind his desk, broke the leg off, spread the woman’s legs wider, and—”

  “Stop,” I cried, tears pouring down my face. “Oh God, please stop.” Mortimer took me in his arms and let me cry for a minute. That poor woman and, I hated to admit it to myself, poor Samuel.

  “There’s only a little left, Patricia,” he said as he pushed me back, wiping my tears away with the sleeve of his shirt. “Should I go on?” I nodded, and he finished the story in a gentle voice. “After dat horror, Mariah commanded ‘em ta make ‘er inta a vampire or she would torture the poor gerl even more. ‘Course, ‘e did it ta save ‘er, but when ‘e turned ‘er somethin’ went wrong. She woke up without ‘er right mind. He still luv’ed ‘er though, so ‘e kept ‘er safe and away from a lotta people.

  “He said she was like a child. Only lookin’ fur play t’ings. She’d killed at least ten people ‘er first night and Mariah reveled in it. So ‘e tried his best ta keep ‘er out of crowds, except one night she got out and killed hundreds all by ‘erself. Kathryn found out and ordered Mariah ta ‘ave ‘er put down. And of course, instead of doin’ it ‘erself, she had Samuel do it. He ‘ad ta kill the one t’ing dat he luv’ed in this world more than ‘emself.

  “Samuel protested, but Mariah just laughed and walked away from him. Thus, ‘e took his little duchess out inta a field, and they sat star gazin’. She looked at ‘em like ‘e was the only man in the world fur ‘er, and ‘e said dat for the rest of his existence, ‘e would never forget dat look. Dat look of utter trust. He stroked ‘er hair, kissed ‘er forehead, told ‘er ‘e luv’ed ‘er more than the moon and stars, and snapped ‘er head off her neck. Then he left ‘er remains in the field ta be burned away by the sun.

  “Dat was the day Samuel Satané lost his humanity, and ‘e’s never regained it.”

  When he ended, I was silently crying for everything that Samuel had lost and everything that he used to be. I hated myself for shedding a tear, knowing what he had done to me, but I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t fair to him or to her. “Poor Samuel.” Did those words just come out of my mouth? Yes, yes they did. Mortimer looked at me and said nothing. “I mean it, poor Samuel. No one should have to go through that. Not even him. I am physically repulsed the man, but to have to go through all that…” my voice trailed away as I shook my head. “It’s unthinkable.”

  Mortimer nodded. “He’s still a feckin’ arsehole. But I do agree with ye.”

  There was one thing that I was wondering throughout the entire story, and I figured it was a good time to ask. “What was the duchess’s name?”

  He shook his head. “Ye promised no question.”

  “I already broke that promise,” I reminded him. “What was her name?” He shook his head again. “Mortimer,” I said sternly, “what was her name?”

  “Her name…” he paused looking me dead in the eyes, “her name was Patricia.”

  My eyes widened in shock and horror. I could feel my lower lip begin to quiver, and I began to shake my head in disbelief. I had reminded Samuel of her and that was why he pursued me. That was why he had wanted me to be his vampire bride, because he was afraid of what Mariah would have done if she had gotten her slimy little hands on me. It didn’t explain why he was hell- bent on killing and hurting me, but it explained the rest. The manic behavior and his total mind fuck of a personality.

  I couldn’t stand it any longer, I just couldn’t. Feeling myself rocking back and forth, I grabbed a throw pillow, put it over my face, and screamed.

  chapter

  FOURTEEN

  I paced, opening and closing my mouth a few times. Then I finally turned to face Mortimer, placing my good hand on my hip. “What the hell am I supposed to say to all this? How am I supposed to react?” I screeched.

  Mortimer shrugged. “I t’ink the way yer reactin’ is appropriate.”

  I had screamed, threw a pillow and then started pacing with incoherent muttering. I was pissed off, confused, hurt, and upset. Samuel should have explained all this to me when we were married. Not that it would have changed the outcome, but his behavior sure would have made a hell of a lot more sense, especially when Mariah showed up. He could have said something, anything, but he didn’t, which was one of the reasons I couldn’t stand him. He was never straightforward and always kept me in the dark. It was in that moment that I realized that I truly hated Samuel. I didn’t just dislike him, I hated him. My mother had always taught me that you could never hate a person, but Samuel wasn’t a person, he was a monster who had raped me, lied to me, and nearly tried to rip my hand off. So I finally gave myself permission to fucking hate him, and I felt better for it.

  I looked down at Mortimer on the couch. He had remained calm throughout the entire thing, and I just kept wondering how he turned out so goddamned normal compared with the mind screw Samuel had become. But he was right, I was reacting fairly appropriately, which scared the hell out of me. Normally, I would have taken in all in stride, but lately it was getting harder and harder to keep myself from getting unglued. So I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. It didn’t work. I raised my head and screamed to the Universe, “Why did he do it? Why me? Why did he take me down in that dungeon when he had all this happen before? Why?”

  “Patricia,” Mortimer said quietly, standing up to wrap his arms around me. I stood leaning my head against his chest for a minute. Then I pushed him away, and he let me. “It’s all right, ye know,” he continued, trying to calm me as he rubbed my arms. “Ye can be angry. ‘E’s an arsehole, and nobody knows why ‘e did what ‘e did. ‘E is outta his mind. Maybe ‘e t’aught in some twisted way dat ‘e was savin’ ye from Mariah. I don’t know. But what I do know is ‘e is a crazy bastard and yer better off without ‘em.”

  “I know that,” I breathed. “But why me? I just can’t wrap my head around why he’d choose me.”

  “Dat one is a little simpler,” he replied. “‘E wanted ta ‘ave a second chance, and ‘e fucked it up. Again. And besides,” he said with a bit of a smile, “yer beautiful. No one can resist a beauty like yers.”

  I shook my head. He was getting me off topic, and I let him. “Stop it. I am not beautiful. Attractive. Maybe. But not beautiful.”

  “Ye are,” he protested. “Yer very beautiful.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be beautiful when pigs fly.”

  He laughed a little and then stopped to stare out the window. “Oh dear Lord,” he shouted, running over to the window seat, looking out, “did ye see dat?”

  “See what?” I asked, running over to him, a little scared at what I might find outside.

  “A boar,” he whispered, pointing to the sky, “‘e just sprouted angel wings and flew off.”

  I hit him in the shoulder, and he laughed. “That’s not funny,” I huffed.

  He shrugged, sitting down. “It’s a wee bit funny.”

  “And you’re a wee bit crazy,” I mocked, sitting down beside him. We were silent for a moment, and then I sighed. “It feels like the whole world has gone crazy. You know, more than usual. Everything is so overwhelming and I feel like I might break into pieces if one more thing goes ape shit. And I know it will. It always seems to.”

  Mortimer placed his hand on my shoulder. “Not everythin’ falls on yer shoulders, Pat. Ye are only responsible fur yerself. No one else. And I t’ink, considerin’ the circumstance, dat yer copin’ as best as ye can.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” I sighed again. “I’m doing my best. But I still can’t wrap my head around the whole Samuel thing. I mean, did he think he was saving me, or did he think he was going to get a second chance to kill her all over again?”

  “I was surprised dat ‘e had the nerve ta go after ye in the first place,” Mortimer said quietly. I think he was trying to say it to himself, but he
said it aloud instead.

  I looked at him so fast my neck cracked. “What does that mean?”

  He shook his head, dropping his hand from my arm. “Nothin’.”

  “You’re lying to me again. What did you mean by that, Mortimer? And tell me the truth.”

  His shoulders slumped as he looked me dead in the eyes. “When yer mother left fur America, I wanted ta protect ‘er by any means necessary. She was me best friend. So I asked Kathryn if she could be put ‘er under protective custody.”

  He didn’t even have to finish, I knew where he was going with this. “Jesus Christ,” I huffed. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

  “What do ye t’ink it means?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. He knew exactly what I thought. “That when she married Pops, he was protected, when Jessica was born, she became protected, and finally—” I pointed to myself.

  He nodded. “Aye.”

  I closed my eyes to the headache that was forming behind my right eye. “So what you’re saying is that I’m sort of like a protected species?”

  “Aye,” he replied again, looking down at his hands, which were in his lap.

  “That’s why Kathryn came to my rescue, isn’t it?” I asked, and he nodded. I shook my head, realizing that it all made sense.

  “When Charlie called ta tell me dat ye were in trouble, I freaked out and told Kathryn ‘bout it. She was very immediate in ‘er response.”

  I let that sink in for a minute. All this time I had been protected by vampires, and I never knew. One thing still bothered me though. “If I’m protected, why in the world did Samuel marry me in the first place?”

  “It’s a rule,” he answered, and I could feel my brow furrow. He obviously saw that I was confused, so he explained further. “It was yer freewill. When ye said yes ta Samuel, ye chose it yerself.”