The Devil's Blue Eyes

by Chris Sanders

  Slowly, Luke could feel Lena beginning to relax underneath him.

  “Are you going to stop fighting? I didn’t plan on being outside so late. The weather’s terrible.”

  She smiled. Gradually, Luke began to relax his grip. For a moment, as the rain continued to beat down against them, they lay pressed together against the ditch’s bank. Luke began to caress her face softly. He then kissed the tip of her nose gently and continued to wipe away the rogue strands of hair from her face. She ran her own hand through Luke’s soft, blonde locks and kissed him just as gently on the lips. Luke reciprocated, only firmer.

  “Let’s get you back into the cottage. We’ll both freeze out here if we’re not careful.”

  Lena kissed him again, this time both her hands grabbing at his hair and forcing him closer. Her kisses became more passionate, but Luke continued to pull away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, sweets. Let’s just get inside, okay?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry for all this.”

  “Ok. I know. Come on. Let’s get you up.”

  Luke was the first to stand. Holding out his hand, he then helped Lena to her feet.

  “I’ll run you a hot shower. We’ll get you something hot to eat too, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He kissed the ridge of her nose gently. Together, they headed back to the cottage.

  8 - It’s In The Blood

  Father Francis McCormack, sixty five next birthday, stood at the edge of the graveyard and watched as the village lights began to flicker on. He’d arrived in Chatterton a young man from Darwin, Australia. During those long years of service, he’d still not been able to come to terms with the cold British winters. As the first flakes of snow began to land across the cemetery gravestones, Francis turned from the village lights and made his way back towards the church doors. St. Peter’s had been his place of work for almost thirty years now. He’d walked the same narrow and winding path each day for a good part of those thirty years. Francis had always been a creature of habit. As he did most days when approaching his office, he glanced up towards the gargoyles and stone dragons which lived just above the church doors and smiled wryly to himself. If only his parishioners knew, he thought to himself. If only they knew the truth. Still smiling, Francis entered the building.

  “Are you feeling any better Marshall?” Francis questioned. He was lighting the church candles one by one. It took him a great deal longer these days to complete such a simple task. Since arthritis had set into his knuckles, his hands were not as steady as they’d once been.

  “Don’t ask such foolish questions, McCormack,” Marshall shot back. “You know how I feel.” Francis grinned.

  “Then perhaps you should be used to the pain,” he went on trying to get a rise out of his guest. Marshall had picked the middle pew to rest. Having finished lighting the last candle, Francis strolled down the church isle and took a seat next to him. Marshall continued to rock gently backwards and forwards, his hand clutching at his stomach. The pain was intense. He hadn’t been in so much pain for many years. The cravings were very bad this time around.

  “When will Drake be here?” Marshall then whined, his forehead pressed into the pew’s wooden frame. Father McCormack placed the palm of his hand across Marshall’s broad and muscular back and began to pat the ex-paratrooper as a Mother might have patted their frightened child. He was used to comforting his parishioners, but Marshall was a case apart. After all, both men had shared the same dark secrets for many years.

  “Anytime now Marshall. I finished talking with him not one hour ago. The boy is with him.

  You’ve no need to fret. The pain will be gone very soon,” McCormack spoke. Marshall turned from the pew to glare at him.

  “Why? Why didn’t you wait for me? I told you I was on my way.” Slowly, McCormack began to wipe the blood from his mouth. Several drops had already fallen to the floor which meant he would have to rise early before first mass and make sure the church was spotless. “I’m sorry Marshall. I was thirsty too. The cravings can take over at times. You know how it can get.”

  “I’m dying here, you bloody old fool! I don’t know how much longer I can hold out. Damn it! Where is Drake?” Marshall continued to bellow smashing his hand against the pew with such force that the entire row was made to shake. “If he’s not here in ten minutes I shall find my own meal!”

  “Patience Marshall. I don’t think that would be a wise move. Not under the current circumstances. We have to keep a low profile. Too many children have been taken of late,” McCormack continued, glancing towards the altar and the shadows which lived either side. He could just about see the boy’s legs, the remainder of the child’s torso having been hidden within the same shadows. A thick trickle of blood could be seen running from the altar and into the church’s central isle. Yes. He would have to give the church a thorough clean tomorrow.

  “I shall have to burn the body this evening. Will you stay to help?” McCormack went on, turning back to face his friend. Marshall scowled at him, shrugging off the priest’s arm.

  “Do it yourself McCormack. I’m in no mood for helping others this evening.”

  “I was thirsty. I told you.”

  Marshall pressed his head back into the pew. McCormack’s eyes quickly fixed on his friend’s neck as he did. Marshall’s skin was already beginning to discolour. Quite soon, McCormack reasoned, his friend’s transformation would be complete. The ex-soldier needed blood and fast! Knowing he would get no collaboration, McCormack left Marshall to endure by himself. The church’s interior was below freezing that evening. Marshall had insisted they leave the door wide open so that they could hear Drake approaching. The cold had begun to irritate McCormack and he’d decided to close the doors. He kicked the small wooden door-stopper free and was beginning to push the church’s thick oak door too when he noticed Drake’s car pull up outside the cemetery gates.

  “He’s here Marshall,” McCormack called over. Marshall raised his head and tried to stand but collapsed back into the pew.

  “Tell him to come inside. And hurry!”

  McCormack nodded grabbing his coat from off the nearby coat stand and stepping out into the church courtyard.

  “Where’s the boy?” McCormack questioned, having reached the church gates. Drake glanced furtively to his left and right. The road in either direction was empty. Turning back to the priest he said, “He’s in the boot. I had a lot of trouble getting him here. Alexander was asking a lot of questions. We’ll need to find other options soon. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep things under wraps. Social services are getting suspicious. They want to know what happened to the Liam twins. I can’t keep fobbing them off.”

  McCormack sighed. Drake had been repeating the same tired mantra for months now.

  “Spencer will have our solution soon. I can’t see us staying much longer in the village. I know people are beginning to ask questions. I feel it too. We just have to be patient and wait for Spencer to give us the green light.”

  “But how long? How much longer do we have to wait for answers?” Drake continued to demand, again glancing nervously to his left and right.

  “Not long now. I’m sure,” McCormack lied. He was tired of explaining. Spencer had already bought property in Costa Rica. Nobody asked questions in the Americas. It would be a good move for all of them. The village was no longer the safe sanctuary it had been. It was time tomove on.

  “Drake! What kept you?” Marshall then yelled. Both men turned to find Spencer’s right hand man slouched just inside the church’s vestibule, his hands clutching at the stone archway, the first flakes of snowfall beginning to patter against his jacket lapels. “You have the boy, Drake?”

  “Yes. We have the boy, Marshall. You go back inside. We’ll be with you shortly,” McCormack yelled back.

  “Marshall’s in a bad way,” Drake noted, turning back to face McCormack.

  “I know, but he’ll live,” McCormack r
eplied grinning.

  “Give me a hand to get the boy out of the boot then, will you? He’s a handful, this one.

  He’ll put up a fight,” Drake went on making his way back towards the car. McCormack simply nodded and followed.

  ~ ~ ~

  Elizabeth had arrived at the cottage unexpectedly at eleven thirty the following morning. Luke had been in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Lena was still in bed sleeping off the night’s traumatic events. Luke had had only a couple of hours of sleep. His head ached and he’d been in no mood for visitors.

  “Elizabeth?”

  “Are you not going to invite me in?”

  She stood calmly in the front porch. The previous evening’s storm had passed, but the sky was still grey. There was a strong wind and the clouds seemed to be threatening a new bout of rain at any moment now. Consequently, Elizabeth had arrived wearing a royal blue mackintosh which covered her body from head to toe. Her light blonde hair stuck out in various tufts beneath the jacket’s hood. She wore a pair of long, black wellington boots while two thick, black mittens protected her hands from the elements. She also carried with her a tiny, black pocket umbrella which she’d secreted into one of the jacket’s wide pockets. This was, Luke thought, a Lady who liked to leave nothing to chance.

  “Well? Are you going to invite me inside Luke? I’m feeling terribly cold,” she continued in perfect Queen’s English.

  Luke glanced behind him back into the kitchen. He was worried Lena might have woken and would be standing in the kitchen listening to what he was about to tell Elizabeth.

  “I didn’t get much sleep last night, Elizabeth. I’m very tired. I didn’t know you’d be paying me a visit. I’m sorry. I’m all over the place at the moment.”

  Elizabeth nodded sympathetically.

  “Father told me Marshall had taken you here. Rose Cottage has memories for me. I used to play here as a little girl. I thought it was my own giant doll’s house,” she continued, smiling.

  “I wasn’t planning to keep you long. It’s just that I felt awful about what I said to you the other day. I just wanted the chance to explain. Would that be okay?”

  Luke hesitated. He didn’t want anyone to know that Lena was upstairs. At least not yet. Not until he could find an independent doctor who would take a look at her. Perhaps then he’d inform Chatterton and the rest of his brood about her whereabouts.

  “Well?”

  Luke smiled and stepped to one side.

  “Coffee or tea? I think there’s just enough milk left to make us both a cup.”

  “Strong tea will be fine, Luke. Thank you,” Elizabeth replied stepping into the cottage, her radiant smile still intact.

  “How long have you known Lena?” Luke asked, having placed Elizabeth’s cup of tea onto the tea matt.

  Elizabeth had taken off her mackintosh and wellington boots. She sat quietly now at the dining room table, her eyes occasionally drifting about the cottage as if recalling a long ago memory.

  “I’ve known Lena since we were both children Luke. She would visit Chatterton House as a child many times. We used to play together here in Rose Cottage. Like I said, Rose Cottage has always been like my giant doll’s house to me. I have so many happy memories of this building.”

  She took a sip from her cup.

  “Did I make it how you like it?” Luke asked once he’d taken a chair next to her.

  “Perfect Luke. It’s nice and strong. Just how I like it.”

  “Good. At least I’ve done something right since I arrived here. I get the impression your Father would like shoot of me as soon as possible.”

  “Oh, don’t pay too much attention to Papa, Luke. He’s harmless enough. He’s just very protective of his family. I’m sure you can understand that?”

  “Of course.”

  “When your family has influence, you sometimes have to be careful who you let into your inner circle. That’s what I was told growing up. I’m surprised I was ever allowed to leave Chatterton Village,” Elizabeth continued with a smile. “Tell me Luke. How long have you known Lena?”

  Luke was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He didn’t want Lena waking up and he certainly didn’t want the third degree from Elizabeth.

  “Oh, a few months. Not too long.”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “My father told me everything, Luke. There’s no need to look so worried. She’s not well. You have to take our word for that.”

  “I understand. I’ve already spoken with your father too. If Lena turns up I shall ring him. You don’t have to worry about that. I have Lena’s best interest at heart.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Luke. I can see you’re a good man. Good men are very hard to come by these days,” Elizabeth replied smiling.

  Luke held her eye contact and smiled in return.

  “Well, I do my best, Elizabeth. I do my best.”

  “I’m sure you do, Luke,” Elizabeth continued, removing her gloves and slapping them across the kitchen table. “Now, I wanted to explain my words yesterday. I had a chance to think about what I said and I don’t think it was fair on you,” she went on suddenly business-like.

  “Okay. Go on.”

  “I just had Claire’s best interest at heart. I knew you were here because of Lena and well, we didn’t want anyone from outside snooping around. We like to keep all business within the family. I suppose I was just trying to frighten you off. It was a silly thing to have said. I spoke to father and he explained everything to me last night. Am I forgiven, Luke?”

  Luke sipped from his cup.

  “Can’t be nice having people snooping around. Where is Claire and Lee? Are they at Chatterton House? I didn’t see them.”

  Elizabeth paused. She was about to answer when the sound of something very large upstairs smashed. Luke closed his eyes at the noise and cursed under his breath.

  “What in heaven’s name was that?” Elizabeth asked.

  “What was what?”

  “That noise. It came from upstairs.”

  “Probably a fox got in. I spotted a dozen or so last night. Damned creatures. We have hundreds in London, you know. They raid all our bins. No fear of humans, you see.”

  They both paused. The sound of faint footsteps could now be heard overhead. Elizabeth looked directly into Luke’s eyes.

  “She’s here isn’t she? Lena is here.”

  “Lena? Of course not. Why would you think that? I told you. If she turns up I’ll contact your father.”

  Elizabeth was looking over Luke’s shoulder now. She was looking into the corridor. Sensing Lena’s presence in the hallway, Luke again cursed, this time lowering his head.

  “Did you tell her I was here, Luke?” Lena now asked. She stood beside the dining room door, still wearing the damp jeans and shirt from the previous evening. Both Luke and Elizabeth stood to face her.

  “Well?”

  “She arrived just now, sweet. I didn’t say a word.”

  “Lena, my dear. How are you?” Elizabeth spoke, walking over to her oldest friend and wrapping her arms about her. “My God, you are frozen, Lena. Come on, let’s get you upstairs and out of these wet clothes.”

  Lena didn’t move, her eyes still on Luke.

  “I’m surprised Luke didn’t wash these for you,” Elizabeth continued, turning sharply around to face Luke. “I can see now you’re not a man of your word. I’ve been foolish.”

  “Look! I’m caught in the middle here. I want what’s best for Lena too. I don’t know your family. I only know what Lena has told me about you. I don’t know who to trust anymore!”

  Elizabeth began to fumble around in her jean pockets. She pulled out the keys to her car and threw them to Luke.

  “What are these for?”

  “I think you should go make yourself useful. Take my car and drive into the village. By the look of things in here we’ll need food. I’ll stay and take care of Lena until you get back.”

  “I don’t want her going to Chatterton House. Is tha
t understood? She needs a doctor first.”

  Lena allowed herself to be sat in one of the chairs. She looked as though she hadn’t slept all night. Her skin was pale and sickly. Her eyes were vacant too. She looked haunted. Large, dark patches encircled her eyes.

  “It’s all over with now. There’s no hope, is there?” Lena then mumbled.

  “Lena…” Luke had begun.

  “Will you just go?” Elizabeth interrupted. “You think I’m going to move her in this condition? She’s my oldest friend for heaven’s sake! We’ll be here when you get back. I’ll call for a doctor. Now just go and fetch us some food.”

  Luke stuffed the car keys into his jeans. He then said, “I’ll be back soon Lena. Okay? I’ll be back with food. Everything will be alright.”

  Lena didn’t reply. As with the night before, she simply lowered her head into her arms and turned her back on the world. Within minutes of Luke leaving, she’d fallen into a deep sleep.

  ~ ~ ~

  Elizabeth drove a mini metro. It didn’t suit the rough country lanes which encircled Chatterton Village and every mile or so, having reached a wide cattle grid or makeshift speed bump, Luke had to slow the vehicle almost to a standstill in order to continue. The village roads in comparison were well-maintained and easy to navigate. It was approaching mid-day when he pulled into a small car park. It was an unusually warm October afternoon.

  Luke removed his jacket and threw it across the mini’s back seat. He turned left at the car park entrance and followed the road until he came to a crossroads. He turned left again and found himself facing a long, high street. The street rose gently. A mixture of cottages and small shops lined either side of it. The cottages themselves consisted of thatched roofs along with thick, black wooden beams. The remainder of the buildings was painted in white. The doors to these cottages were uniformly painted black too. Luke counted a dozens of shops as he strolled along. At the very end of the high street, a large statue of King Arthur had been erected. He stood precisely in the centre of the high street, the road at this point having become a roundabout at his feet before continuing on. A cottage and a small bakery sat either side of the statue. A large, stone dragon could be seen writhing at King Arthur’s feet, Arthur having speared the beast with his sword which he grasped in both hands. Beyond this statue there was only woodland and fields. The high street was busy with shoppers going about their afternoon business.