Before his body had even touched the ground, he was propelling himself up, his fists clenched, ready to fight. He cursed himself for not bringing one of this wooden stakes with him: if this was a vampire, he might be doomed. Maybe it was a mistake coming here to Spellholm, but if he met his death, at least the realm of the Labyrinth would be relinquished from his care. Open for anyone to find it. He might have regretted leaving there, taking on this strange face, but that would mean he would never have met Sybil, and he loved her with all his heart. The same heart her kisses had unlocked.
But when a voice spoke at last, he knew he wasn’t in danger. The red mist of his rage filled his head all the same.
“Now, now, you bull-headed monstrosity. Put your fists away, I have come to help you find Sybil. But if you want her to be safe, you have to do exactly as I say.”
“I don’t know if I trust you, Tara.”
“Then go bumbling about the forest. You make enough noise to wake the dead.” She leaned forward, putting her mouth to his ear, and said, “But your dear Sybil has already done that.”
He fell back from her as if her words had struck him. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“She has gone to tell her news to the vampires. Now it’s my duty to see that this turns out all right for my mate. So you are lucky we are on the same side. But you have to do what I say, Minotaur. It’s nearly time for the dragons to join this fight. However, things have to be done in the right way.”
Chapter Fourteen – Sybil
“If I tell you, will you let me go?”
“So valuable a gift. That is a lot to ask. What if I need you again?”
“My visions aren’t something you can command. They only tell of big, terrible things.”
“And this thing you saw is big and terrible?”
She knew he was diverting the question into one of his own, but she allowed him, unable to pressure him into a decision that might not be favourable to her. “Yes. The worst I have seen.”
His eyes glowed once more, his excitement showing in the way he looked at her. “Tell me.”
Still she hesitated, but he leaned closer, his fangs extending to slide across her jugular. Then he pulled back, as if changing his mind.
Sybil phrased her answer carefully. “The war that is coming, you know of it?”
“I know that there are whisperings in the wind. My rival is mustering his close associates to his side. But there is nothing concrete. No time frame. I do not want them to know how much I know. I have one of my most trusted friends on the inside of his faction. I do not want to risk his death.”
“If I was to tell you when this is to happen. This would be of use to you?”
“Don’t toy with me, child. I can make you tell me.” She took a step back from him. “Don’t worry, I’m not the kind who enjoys torture. No. You have already seen the way a vampire can control a human. A glamour of sorts.”
“A glamour,” she repeated to herself.
“Yes. I can make you do whatever I want. But that is not how I want our relationship to be, Sybil. I want us to be friends.”
“But I am not allowed to leave.”
“Let’s just say for your own safety, you are my guest.”
“He is to attack tomorrow night,” she said quickly.
If a vampire could pale, then this one did. His already white skin became translucent in his shock. “There were no whisperings of this. How can he keep it so quiet?”
“Because those who he has enlisted are from elsewhere. Not Hollowton.”
His gaze became like a laser, pinpointed on her eyes. “Tell me from where?”
“A place called Christon.”
He turned and swept away from her. “So that is his game. He has joined with others, willing to let his kin be destroyed for his own gains.”
“There’s more.”
“Tell me.”
“He will use your friend against you. They know he is a traitor. The leader will come to you, with his ring and threaten you. Any hesitation in your face will prove your guilt, and then he will have your friend killed. He will try to blame you for the death, to drive a wedge between those who support you here in Hollowton. You have to circumvent this.”
“You see all this?”
“And more,” she admitted. The thought of someone actually caring about what she had seen was almost too much. Whether he had put his spell on her, or she was just too desperate for someone to listen to her, she wasn’t sure.
“Tell me everything.”
And she did. “They will confront you and there will a be a battle. This other leader will slay you. He will put a stake in your heart.”
The vampire placed his hand over his non-beating heart, flinching at the thought. She had to decide if he was worth saving. But when she examined the outcome of his death, she knew that he must be the key. If she could keep him safe, if she could make him the victor, then the human race might be saved.
“I’ll tell you exactly how he does it. Then you can be prepared.”
“There a way I can stop my death?”
“I think so. It will mean you listening very carefully to what I say.”
“Can I trust you?”
“That would depend. I want your word that when this is over, I get to leave.”
He held his hand out to her. “I give you my word. If you help me to survive and be victorious, then you can leave, with my thanks.”
She put her hand in his, feeling the coldness, the fragile, papery skin enveloping her and threatening to take the warmth of her life blood, as the chill spread from him to her. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“My name? It means nothing here in this world of the undead.”
“I want to know who you were, so I know I am doing the right thing by saving you.”
He chuckled. “Your vision must already tell you that or I believe you wouldn’t let me live. I think I am as much your best hope as you are mine.” He studied her, weighing and measuring her. Then he said, “I was a great lord. And a bit of a cad. Lord Angus of Middleham. Such great things were expected of me. But I slept with a woman, and her husband found out. He paid a man to kill me. Only that man gave the ticket to a vampire, who turned me instead. I struggled not to bring death and destruction on the husband of the woman I slept with. I blamed him. Nights, I would sit on their windowsill and watch them sleep. But then I realised the fault was mine. I was corrupt, I was in the wrong.”
“So you let him live?”
He looked at her mournfully, the red in his eyes almost gone. “No. One night I saw him strike her. I watched while she wept and he forced her to do such degrading things. It was then that I realised she had sought my arms as a way of escape. A few hours of pleasure to make up for the pain of her marriage. So I killed him and freed her from it. Then I left the place I grew up in and somehow came here. I have found peace amongst my own kind. Yet there are those of us who do not want peace. They want to enslave the human race. Bleed them until they can bleed no more.”
“So what part do the dragons play in this?”
“Dragons? None, there is a truce between us.”
“But a vampire tried to break that truce.”
“Really? I had no idea.” He was silent, thinking for a moment, his whole body and his face so still, he might have been made from hard marble. “Ahh. There were five deaths. A fire. Yes. I see now. But why?”
Then he moved, ostentatiously strutting across the room as though he were a great host and she, his invited houseguest. She stood still, her half-emptied glass in her hand. When he reached the staircase and saw she wasn’t following, he turned and called her. “Come, Sybil. You should sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day for us both. Let us hope we will both be here by the end of it all.”
She carried her glass, not sure what she was supposed to do with it, and followed him up the ornate staircase. He took her along a corridor and deeper into his lair. She had no choice but to follow. And when he stopped outside
one of the countless doors, she hoped he didn’t expect her to spend the night in the same room as him.
“Here, you will be safe. Nothing can get in, and I trust you not to be foolish enough to try to get out. I thank you for your information, but you are too precious to be allowed to go free until this is finished. If you try to leave, my gargoyles will stop you. And there is not a single creature here who will save you. Remember, what lurks outside is far worse than what lurks within.”
He left, pulling the door behind him. The dark settled around her. Going to the bed, which she could only make out as a faint outline, she slumped down, and, despite her fears, exhaustion took her and she slept. Hoping she had done the right thing and chosen the right side.
Chapter Fifteen – Fin
Cursing loudly, he slid down the muddy bank, only just missing the trees as he went. He was muddy, covered in leaves, and beginning to think he should not have trusted Tara. She was altogether untrustworthy. Self-serving too. Oh yes, he knew she was only interested in furthering her own goals. All he hoped was that, this time at least, their goals were aligned. His only concern was Sybil, and from what Tara had said, Sybil was the only hope of saving the dragons. However, he knew there was more to it than that. He had seen the look on Sybil’s face. Whatever was in her prophecy, it was big. Really big.
A sound to his right made him stop. He flattened himself into the damp earth, hoping whatever foul creature was out here was not hunting him. Yet if he trusted Tara, he knew he must succeed with this. Still, he has to be careful. As far as he was concerned, the fates didn’t much care for visions and prophecy: If his time was up; his time was up.
Keeping very still, he looked to the west, waiting for the sun to rise. It was a long wait; the darkness seemed to linger longer here. The rest of Spellholm would be bathed in the full golden glow of the sun by now; but here, dawn was held back by some unknown curse. Then, when he thought the sun would never burst through, the houses ahead of him were bathed in light, the sun glinting off dirty windows, all boarded from behind. Light was the enemy in this town.
Stealing himself for what was to come, hoping he would find his dear sweet Sybil in one piece, and an alive piece at that, he made for the first house. Reaching it, he flattened himself along the wall, letting himself catch his breath and still his rapidly beating heart. If he couldn’t calm down, he was afraid that whatever lived, or lurked, here would feel his pulse though the very ground beneath his feet.
Looking around, he tried to make out the house Tara had told him to aim for. It had a tower, someone’s idea of making themselves appear to be more important in a small town. From there he had to make two more detours to reach the house Sybil was in. Moving away from the wall, he looked up over all the roofs, hoping he would be able to spot it. Going door to door in this neighbourhood would end up with him dead.
There. He took a deep breath and ran, hoping that there was nothing to see him, when he had made himself so exposed. But nothing moved, no solitary living creature, or dead. Reaching the tower, he stopped, got his bearings, and then went down a small alleyway, which had ambush written all over it.
To his surprise, there was no one waiting for him; in fact, he was sure there was not another living creature in the whole of Hollowton. He only hoped that wasn’t true. He wanted to find Sybil; he needed to find her alive. Tara had made it quite clear that if Sybil had been turned, there was nothing they could do to bring her back. He placed his hand on the short wooden stake tucked into his pants. His biggest dread was that he would have to use it on the woman he loved.
Pausing once more, he looked down the next alleyway and across to the street where he had to go. Looking up, he could see the ornate house that Tara had described to him, missing gargoyles and all. He steeled himself, knowing what was to come, only hoping that this was as Tara had told him and he would live to see his Sybil again, to touch her warm skin and kiss her soft lips.
Come on, he urged himself. So he ran, not looking upwards, even when he heard the sound of the gargoyles, stone against stone, as they detached themselves from the roof and made their deadly dive towards him. Tara had told him not to kill them, although not why. But right now, he wanted to shatter them into pieces. Their wing beats were getting louder; he tried not to imagine them hurtling towards him, although his mind continued to question how something made of hard stone could possibly stay in the sky.
At the last moment, he ducked under a porch that hung over the street, the sound of tiles shattering filling his ears and the remains of the broken pieces spilling down to land at his feet. A scraping sound, and then he saw the shadow of the gargoyle pass across the street, gaining height for its next attack. Fin didn’t hang around; he made for the house he had been told contained Sybil.
There he hammered on the door—enough to wake the dead, he thought ironically.
When the echoing of his banging stopped, he stood and listened, acutely aware of the silence on the other side of the door. While above him, the sound of scraping stones told him the next gargoyle attack was underway.
He lifted his hand and hammered again. The sound so loud in the deathly quiet of the town. Surely, he could be heard, surely someone would come. But who would that someone be? A shiver passed through him and he transferred the wooden stake from his belt to his hand. If it was a vampire, he needed to be ready. But please, let it not be Sybil.
Chapter Sixteen – Sybil
Through the haze of sleep, she could hear a noise. Waking, she sat up, still fully clothed, and listened. Silence. Maybe it had been her dream. The house, not nearly as dead as its inhabitant, creaked and settled around her, as if begging to be awoken and filled with light. And then it came again. A loud, thundering thudding on the door.
She slipped her legs off the bed and went to the bedroom door, opening it to see if Angus was awake too. That thought made her shiver. Did she want to wake him in the day? Did she want to be in his company more than she had to? He was so charming, so deathly mesmerising.
Nothing in the house moved. Sybil needed to know who was at the door. Reassured that it could not be a vampire, she made her way downstairs, looking at the iron bar across the door and knowing she was safe unless she removed it.
As quietly as she could, she walked to the door, standing with her ear pressed to it. A hard thud made her step back, the sound of splintering wood filling the air. Someone was attempting to break the door down. Moving away, she was about to head upstairs and find Angus when she heard a familiar voice.
“I will destroy you,” Fin was bellowing from outside.
“Fin,” she called, and ran to the door, trying to force the iron bar back. It was too heavy. Maybe there was another way in. Turning, she was about to head to the sitting room Lord Angus had taken her to, figuring she could drag the shuttering from the window and let him in, when a hand caught hold of her shoulder.
“What is this, an attack?” Lord Angus glared at her with eyes aflame. His fangs were growing longer and she knew he was going to kill her without a flinch of remorse.
“No. It’s Fin. He’s come to help.”
“Who is this Fin?”
“A friend. The friend who rescued me.”
“Then he has come to take you back?”
“No. No. I gave you my word. Let him in. Or at least help him. He’s been attacked.”
“Yes. By my gargoyles. They are there to stop anyone coming in, or out.”
“Lord Angus, please.” Another thud and more splintering; dust came from the ceiling, covering everything in a dirty thin coat, making the room look as pale as Sybil’s host.
“He is destroying my house!” His voice was cold with fury. Too fast, he was past her and at the front door, pulling the bar back as if it was a twig. No effort at all for this supernatural creature of death.
Sybil ran to him, grabbing hold of his arm when he went to grasp Fin, who fell through the door at the sudden shock of it opening. The two looked at each other, the vampire as shocked as F
in. It gave Fin enough time to raise his wooden stake, but Sybil reached up and stopped him, putting her body between the two beasts.
“No. No, Fin.” She looked at him, pleading with him to put down the wooden stake. “He is our only hope of stopping what is to come.” She looked at the pale figure, knowing his super-speed would no doubt mean he would escape Fin’s anger and kill her friend instead. She couldn’t really believe her next words, but still she said, “He is the good guy.”
Fin looked at Sybil in disbelief, and when Sybil glanced at Lord Angus, the same expression registered there also. She guessed it was a long time since anyone had called him the good guy, or even thought good things about him at all.
“I will move back, creature. You, in turn, will rest your … weapon to your side.”
“Fin,” Sybil encouraged, pushing lightly on his arm to make him lower the stake, while with just the faintest of rustling, Angus moved away to the doorway. With one long, lingering look outside at the daylight, while making sure no sunlight touched his skin, he shut and bolted the damaged door.
“Now what?” Fin asked, not taking his eye off Lord Angus.
“Now you convince me not to kill you.” He placed no threat in his voice, Lord Angus didn’t need to.
“Lord Angus, Fin is my friend. If you harm him in any way, I will not help you anymore. I swear you will never make me tell you what you need to know.”
Angus swept towards her, but Fin blocked his way. “I have many ways of making people talk. All very painful.”
“I thought we had got past that. Fin is not here to hurt you, he simply wants to make sure I am safe and take me home when this is over.”
Fin hefted the wooden stake in his hand. “Or I could stick this in the blood sucker and we can leave now.”
Fate Of The Minotaur: BBW Paranormal Romance (Her Dragon's Bane Series Book 5) Page 5
