Four sets of footsteps scrambled away from the road, all running in different directions. With their keen sense of smell and hearing, they had no doubt witnessed the death of these two on the road. Mostly likely one of the two I had killed was an alpha. Both could be alphas if one was male and the other female, but in this darkness, I wasn’t about to check. Since one of them had killed Thomas, I really didn’t care to know. Both deserved death and if any of the others returned, I’d shoot them without hesitation.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I almost went into the forest to search for Thomas’ body, but I couldn’t bear to see his torn body. The ground was frozen cold, so we couldn’t bury him. We certainly couldn’t haul his eviscerated remains into the coach either. He had deserved a much better ending for his life. I had promised to protect him and had failed to keep him safe.
I grieved. Fighting burning tears of regret, I took a deep breath and opened the coach door.
“Is everything okay?” Father asked.
“Two of the werewolves are dead and the others have fled deeper into the forest. Do you know how to drive this coach, Father?”
He stared absently at me for several moments before giving a slight nod. “I can.”
“We’ll get you bundled to weather this cold. It’s not too far until we reach the city,” I said.
Penelope placed her hand on mine. “Ride up there with him, Forrest.”
Father stepped out of the coach with the burning lantern in his hand. In the faint glow of the light, Father’s nervousness was evident. He looked toward the trees at the edge of the dark road, possibly assuming he’d be the next to get attacked by one of the werewolves.
I offered my hand to Penelope to help her climb into the coach. After she seated herself, I secured the door.
Father glanced toward me. “You’re sure Thomas is dead? Because if he isn’t—”
“From the sounds of him being sliced open and his guts falling out? He’s dead.”
“Unless you’ve seen the body, son, you can’t be absolutely certain.”
I sighed. “Being as I don’t know for certain where his body is, don’t you think we’d put ourselves at greater risk by searching for him in the dark? I don’t like the idea of leaving Penelope, Madeline, and the baby alone. The other werewolves fled, but it doesn’t guarantee they won’t return.”
Howls echoed deeper in the forests. Seconds later, others answered. They were all around us on both sides of the road.
“You’re right. As much as it pains me, it’s best we travel on. Thomas was a good man.”
“I agree. Here, let me help you up into the seat,” I said.
Usually he adamantly insisted on doing any physical activity without assistance, but he offered no argument. I don’t know if he realized he couldn’t possibly balance and pull himself up the side of the coach or if he was more worried that the remaining werewolves were circling back.
Once he grabbed the rails, I boosted him to the top of the coach.
He glanced down. “You mind handing me the lantern?”
“We’ll attract less attention without it,” I replied.
Father grumbled obscenities under his breath. I draped a heavy rug over my shoulder, grabbed the rails, and climbed up the narrow steps.
“What are you doing?” he asked, scooting over on the bench.
“Keeping you company.”
“Company? Out here?” His pretend protest wasn’t too convincing.
I took the thick rug and covered his legs with it. “It was Penelope’s suggestion.”
I caught his wide grin in the dim moonlight. “You’d best not ruin what you have with her, son. You won’t find another as grand.”
“And what do I have?” I asked with a grin. “You just like her because she insists that you’re taken care of.”
Father laughed, released the wheel brake, and tapped the reins on the horse’s back. “What’s wrong with that?”
The horse trudged forward and gradually increased its pace. The cold night air stung my face. I was glad my full beard covered my chin and cheeks to lessen the cold. I marveled at how Thomas had withstood the brutal cold. He had been extremely thin but never complained. Surprisingly, he’d never suffered any frostbite either.
I glanced toward the trees where I estimated he had died, but I was unable to see his remains even from the high seat. I couldn’t believe less than ten minutes earlier he had been breathing, alive, and so quickly, gone. Life was fragile.
Father offered me a shrewd stare and shook his gloved finger. “Don’t tell me you don’t realize what you have with Penelope, son. She feels for you the same as you do her. Neither of you can hide it. There was a reason for the two of you to meet, and it wasn’t those plague demons, either. Have you told her that you love her?”
“You said that it was evident.”
“Have you told her?”
“No, well, yes, a little, but not at great length. But from how you describe us, if it’s evident to you, she already knows.”
“That’s not the same thing. A woman needs to hear it, son. Hell, we all need to hear it.” His voice cracked. He wiped away a tear. “Cause there comes a time when the woman you love might no longer be with you. No other pain in this world hurts as badly as that. Trust me. I know.”
I placed my arm across my father’s back and hugged him close. In comparison to my size, he was small, but whenever painful memories of Momma tugged his heartstrings, he seemed so much smaller. “I know, Father.”
He sobbed and patted my hand. “So you need to tell her.”
“I will.”
The horse picked up its pace. The moonlight spilled through the trees, forming odd shadows as the coach rolled down the road. Patches of ice shimmered. Riding atop the coach offered an incredible sense of freedom. The breezing wind exhilarated me in spite of its biting cold. I watched the shadows, half expecting the werewolf pack to regroup and attack, but they never did. If anything, they had probably returned to the road to claim their dead.
Father sat in silence for several miles. His thoughts were on Momma. He remained torn inside over her loss. Those scars had never healed, and I never expected them to during his living years. It was times like this when I truly hoped a Heaven existed. A place where people crossed a threshold after they died to be reunited with their deceased loved ones. That was the hope the common folks clung to and what the cathedral priests insisted to be true, provided you followed their strict doctrines. Indeed, the thoughts of such a place offered peace and reassurance, which was something every person needed. True love never died, even after someone had. Love and memories lived on.
“I’m sorry, son,” Father said.
“For what?”
The hurt in his voice prevented him from saying more.
“Father, I love you, and I hurt inside because of your pain. I cannot imagine how much you ache inside.”
“You don’t miss her?” he asked. “Doesn’t your heart break because you cannot tell her you love her, too?”
“Of course I miss her. I wish I could tell her every day, but the love you shared with Momma was different than a son’s love for his mother. That’s part of why I’m reluctant telling Penelope my feelings and letting her know that I love her. I see how this still haunts and affects you, and I—I don’t think I’m strong enough to sustain that kind of loss and pain.”
Father turned in the coach seat and faced me. “Do you know what would have hurt me more? If I had never told her how I felt, we’d never have fallen in love, and instead of this loss, I’d be living with the regret of what I would have otherwise missed in life. It’s okay to hurt inside. It’s okay to grieve, but it’s not okay to cower and never take that chance to find true love. Remember that.”
He slapped my leg hard and looked toward the road again.
I thought about Penelope and how close we had come together within such a short amount of time. We were good friends and strange as it seemed, we didn’t need to ful
ly express our feelings in words. We had melded that understanding in our minds and our emotions, but Father was right. I needed to express to her more than I had over breakfast that morning. We never knew how short our lives would be. Thomas was a prime example of unexpected death. It could have been any one of us though, and we still had a few more hours of traveling before we reached Freiburg.
We rode without speaking for a long while. The tree lines on both sides of the road grew thinner. I suspected we were getting closer to the outskirts of Freiburg. I felt the sudden relief lessen the tension in my shoulders.
The coach axles creaked and scraped as the wheels passed over holes and loose stones. Father stiffened in the seat and pulled back on the reins. The horse planted its feet, but due to the road’s descent and the icy patches, it skidded, trying to stop. The poor horse slid for several yards as the weight of the wagon pressed against it. Father pulled the wagon brake.
I glanced toward him. “What is it?”
“Don’t you see them?” He pointed.
From the edges of the road, four people dressed in hooded robes stepped directly across our path. They each held lanterns that glowed to life.
“I see them,” I replied, placing my hand on my revolver and stood. “State your purpose. I have a revolver.”
The second one from my right stepped forward, lowered his hood, and lifted an empty hand. “Sir, may I approach? We offer no harm to any man. But what I must ask is vitally urgent.”
“Yes, come ahead,” I replied.
As he came closer, the moonlight and the light from his lantern reflected off the large silver cross hanging on his necklace. Not a werewolf. That was always good to know upfront. In his other hand he rubbed rosary beads. His nimble steps and his facial expression revealed he was more nervous than I was.
He stopped less than five yards from the horse. From the distance it was difficult to determine his age. His head was bald. “Is your destination to visit the archbishop at the Archdiocese?”
“It is,” I replied. “Who asks?”
“Father Lucas. Would you be Forrest?”
My eyes narrowed. I pulled the gun from my coat pocket.
“Son!” Father scolded in a harsh whisper. “He’s a priest for God’s sake.”
“So he says,” I whispered. I kept my eyes on the man. We had had enough unpleasant surprises on our journey. “How do you know my name?”
“The archbishop has sent us to intercept you.”
“Intercept us? Why? Is he prohibiting our visit?”
Lucas graciously smiled and shook his head. “No, it’s nothing like that. He’s offering your group refuge, but getting there requires a slight alternate route.”
“Why?”
“Because there are people who wish to kill you before you get to the Archdiocese.”
“What people?”
The priest stepped closer, rubbing the beads harder. “They call themselves Hunters. They have every entrance into the cathedral guarded. The archbishop has sent us to offer you safe passage as he is concerned about possible bloodshed.”
“As am I,” I replied.
The priest offered a slight smile and nodded. “But first, he has asked me to seek the reason for your arrival. To see if our accompanying you is acceptable in the eyes of our Lord.”
I frowned, not exactly sure how to take that statement. How would asking our purpose now make any difference to their God? What prompted the archbishop to send these priests then, if not for some type of conviction to aid us? Questions for another time. “We have an orphaned child, and we were asked to deliver him to the archbishop in Freiburg.”
“Why there particularly?”
“Father, I wish I knew. It was a request and I swore I’d honor it. With my life if necessary.”
“A noble gesture. I’m certain the archbishop will be pleased to hear, but we must hurry.”
“If all the entrances are being guarded, how did the four of you even get past them?”
The priest smiled. “We have our ways, Forrest.”
“Did you receive word about our arrival before these Hunters came?”
He shook his head.
“But they told you my name?”
“Yes. And they asked of the child, but never disclosed why they wanted him. The archbishop does not want any blood spilled on our sanctuary grounds. Such contradicts the sole reason for the cathedral’s existence.”
Father cleared his throat. “So, can you guarantee our safety?”
Lucas walked toward the coach. “With the guidance and strength of our Lord, we will do all we can. If you permit us, we will drive the carriage into the city and keep you hidden inside the coach.”
“Won’t people find it odd for priests to be driving the coach?” I asked.
“Not at all. The men are looking for you. Not us.”
“The Hunters will be suspicious seeing this coach under the control of priests.”
Lucas smiled. “They will never see us.”
“Come on, son,” Father said. “Let’s climb down.”
Father checked the brake and tied the lead lines around the brake handle. He turned and lowered one foot onto the first step. I took his hand and helped keep him steady as he slowly made his way down to the bottom. By the time I reached the road, the other three priests had gathered beside the horse.
I didn’t sense any threat from them. Nothing at all indicated they had come to cause us problems or further delay, but I was uncomfortable being near them. Perhaps it could have been their association to the cathedral I was most wary of, simply because I didn’t understand the reasons behind their undying loyalty to a religion that clashed violently against other religions around the world, trying to quash and obliterate them. While they openly told their parishioners to love one another, the direct leadership practiced something entirely different by killing all who opposed them, sometimes entire villages and civilizations. I had witnessed it in Bucharest and had never forgotten it.
I stubbornly refused to cast aside the folk traditions my mother had taught me in favor of the cathedrals, especially since their goal was to annihilate all of the other world beliefs. It seemed ungodly to me.
Two of the priests climbed to the box seat and sat. The other two awkwardly positioned themselves atop the baggage compartment at the rear of the coach and held to metal handles while Father and I climbed back inside the coach.
I didn’t have any idea how they planned to sneak us past the Hunters, but for the moment, I was thankful to be back inside, out of the cold.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Penelope looked concern when Father and I climbed back into the coach and sat down. When the horse began pulling us, she peered out the window. “Why are we moving?”
I explained the situation.
“Hunters are waiting at the cathedral?” she asked.
I nodded.
She placed her hand into mine. “How did they know we were coming? Albert?”
While I believed Albert had sent Philip after me, and nothing had swayed my thoughts about that, I didn’t think Albert had informed the Hunters waiting in Freiburg. But since Varak was a hybrid child, still innocent, an uninformed Hunter would never perceive this child any differently than a normal child. If I didn’t know the boy’s heritage, I’d never suspect the child to be half vampire. Everything about him on the surface demonstrated a typical infant incapable of any wrongdoing. So I really had no idea why these Hunters knew, except being told through Hunter’s intellect, which to my understanding should not occur.
“I’m not sure,” I replied.
“But you’re still delivering Varak to the archbishop?”
“Yes. Afterwards, I have no further obligations.”
Penelope leaned her head against my shoulder. Since I had slept through the entire day, I wasn’t tired. I peered out the window. We were outside the forest now. The faint moonlight was enough to reveal the city buildings.
The driver slowed the horse several
blocks into the city, turned onto a narrow side street, and stopped the coach in the darkness. The coach jostled as the priests climbed down.
The door opened. “Come. Everyone out.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“We cannot risk driving the coach any closer to the cathedral,” he replied. “We take the underground tunnels while the city sleeps.”
Madeline hugged Varak. “Will it be safe?”
“It’s the route we took to not be seen,” the priest replied. “Please, hurry.”
I grabbed my Hunter box while Penelope collected her bow and quiver. Father got out and helped Madeline climb down with Varak. The baby cried. She rocked him and gently shushed in his ear.
The cold night air and the eerie silence of the dark streets seemed almost worse than when we had stopped on the forest road. In some ways, I expected it to be more harrowing since these Hunters were all that stood between the Archdiocese and us.
“How many Hunters are here?” I asked the priest closest to me.
“At least a dozen,” he replied.
“It is exactly a dozen,” Father Lucas said. “Aren’t you a Hunter, too?”
“I am.”
He sighed. “It must be a heavy burden you bear.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“To be hunted by your own.” He walked to me, took something from his pocket, and then rubbed an oily substance on my forehead. He spoke a blessing in Latin, which basically asked God’s blessings upon my soul. “The longer we linger above ground, the more danger you’re in. Come. With a dozen men, they have enough to patrol the area, looking for you.”
He turned and walked away.
A dozen Hunters in one place? Such was unheard of. Dominus had spoken about Hunters fighting in pairs, and he was the only Hunter I had ever fought side by side with. But a dozen? To kill me and this child? At this point, I didn’t expect any negotiations. They’d kill me on sight. Nothing deterred their obsession and since I hadn’t given the child to Philip, I was marked for death, too, because sending a dozen Hunters against one was overkill.
Forrest Wollinsky: Predestined Crossroads (Forrest Wollinsky: Vampire Hunter Book 3) Page 19
