Hellfire (Stonewood Saga Book 2)

by Ally Vance

  The keys fall onto the ground with a jingle. I can’t speak due to the restriction on my airway. All I can do is let out a faint rasp. I’m unable to see his face, but as he breathes raggedly, the scent of peppermint fills the air between us. My heart is fluttering in my chest like a caged bird frantically trying to escape.

  I claw out with my free hand, catching the hood hiding his face and tug the soft material down. The light is poor, so I can’t make out any distinguishable features, but his eyes glimmer with a wild lust aimed directly at me. He swiftly overpowers me, and still holding tightly on to my wrist, he pins my arm to the wall. My front is being forced into the bricks while my other arm is trapped between us as he presses the length of his body against mine.

  “Help!” I scream when his hand leaves my throat.

  “There’ll be none of that,” he growls, moving his hand back to my neck and squeezing. “Temptress,” he whispers, leaning in closer to my face, and I swallow nervously, feeling my throat move beneath his palm.

  Soft lips brush against mine. I bite down, earning a grunt and a tightening of his fingers around my neck. A whimper builds in my chest, escaping with a faint squeak. His mouth presses more firmly against mine, his tongue probing the seam of my mouth and seeking entry. A soft gasp escapes me when I feel an erection poking my lower back. Stealing the victory, the whimper, and the gasp, his tongue plunges deeper. I’m helpless to do anything to prevent him from pillaging my mouth and claiming it for himself.

  Then, as suddenly as it happened, he releases me and melts away into the darkness. I sink to the ground, shock and horror overtaking my body. I look around but all I can see is the empty street and nothing else. He swept down on me like a shadow, stole my lips, and then left me with my terror…and the tingling flavour of peppermint mixed with blood on my tongue.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Frollo

  Ever since my encounter with Esme last week and the brief moment we shared during the church service yesterday, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. All week she's hovered in the back of my mind like a sinful temptress, teasing my thoughts towards forbidden places. Even giving myself some momentary relief has done nothing to abate the vicious and curious hunger stirring within me, urging me to act on my overwhelming need to subjugate the mysterious newcomer.

  The sound of the front door closing rouses me from my internal musings, and I shake my head. It seems I’m not the only one being kept awake by their thoughts tonight, but I’m not concerned. It’s not unusual for Quinlan to slip out of the house at a ridiculous hour. If I hadn’t seen plenty of evidence over the years to prove otherwise, I’d be convinced he never sleeps.

  Quiet footsteps on the stairs echo softly through the house as he makes his way up to his room. I won’t ask where he‘s been; I know I won’t get a straight answer out of him, and at his age, it’s not really any of my business. He’s an adult, and unlike my brother, I don’t insist on knowing his exact whereabouts twenty-four-seven.

  I lie awake long after the house once again falls silent, finally succumbing to sleep just as the sun starts to peek through the gaps above the curtains, throwing faint streaks of light across the white ceiling. The thoughts in my head have started to quieten, but I know they’ll be hard to quench entirely.

  Sometime later, I wake to hear Quinlan moving round the house again, and letting out a heavy sigh, I get up. Once dressed, I move over to the soft rug beside my bed and kneel. I pray for strength against the temptation of sin and also for guidance. Having finished, I head downstairs, and the aroma of coffee draws me to the kitchen. Coffee is one of the few pleasures I freely give into. It would take a will much stronger than mine to abstain from this caffeinated heaven on Earth.

  “Morning,” I mumble to Quinlan while making a beeline for the coffee-maker.

  “Rough night, Uncle? You look like crap,” he jokes when I turn to face him, clutching my fresh mug of coffee.

  I raise my eyebrow at him and take a sip, not caring that the liquid is still a tad too hot.

  “About the same as yours,” I retort, smiling over the rim.

  I enjoy seeing the guilty look on his face.

  “I can explain,” he begins, but I cut him off with a snort.

  “I don’t need to know what you’re doing or where you’re going as long as you don’t bring trouble to my doorstep,” I tell him, and his shoulders visibly relax.

  The guilt doesn’t leave his eyes, though. I briefly wonder what he got up to last night, but then I decide I probably don’t want to know.

  After a light breakfast, I ready myself for the day ahead and prepare to leave the house to begin my rounds. I have a few home visits to take care of, and even though there isn’t a service today, it doesn’t mean the inhabitants of the town won’t visit the church. As a pastor, there are always questions to be answered, short prayers to be said, and guidance to be offered for my flock.

  I do a quick sweep of the church to make sure everything is in place, and gather my bible from the office before heading to my car. The next few hours will be spent making my rounds, visiting those who are unable to attend the church anymore and those who need extra support outside of the regular Sunday service.

  I pop in to see a few of my elderly parishioners, offering them comfort and companionship. Their families have either moved away or passed on, and whilst my weekly visit is all I can offer, I hope I succeed in providing them with some solace. The last house I visit on my list is on the outskirts of Stonewood, at the opposite end of town to our church, and belongs to an old friend of mine. Sadly, Kellen rarely leaves the house these days since his terrible accident a few months ago. I've helped him adjust as best I can, and the doctor has hopes he may eventually recover the use of his legs, although the chances remain slim.

  I ring the bell and wait for either the live-in nurse or Lillian to answer the door. The pretty face of Kellen’s young and very pregnant daughter greets me when the door is opened, and I smile down at her. Since falling pregnant, she's become more confident in herself. However, I haven’t failed to notice how timid she is when at home. I do recall her father being rather strict with her before his debilitating injury, which may be the reason why.

  “Pastor Frollo,” she greets me politely in a quiet voice.

  “Lillian, how are you and the baby today?” I enquire.

  Her hand drops from the latch to her rounded stomach, and she smiles softly down at her bump, “We’re good thank you, Pastor. Come in. My dad is in the living room. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

  “Lillian baby, who’s at the door?” Kellen’s voice filters out into the hallway.

  Before Lillian can answer him, I call out, “Kellen. It’s only me.”

  “Pastor! Get in here...Lillian, you too,” he tacks on at the end. I see her shoulders slump and notice the dark rings around her eyes.

  “Go and lie down, Lillian. I won’t be staying for long,” I tell her.

  “Thank you, Pastor,” she says, giving me a fleeting smile before slowly heading up the stairs.

  I watch her go, and I can’t help noticing how mature she's grown in the past few years, especially for her age. Eighteen and a mother-to-be, but you wouldn’t think she's that young. Amusingly enough, it’s not the fact she’s pregnant at her age that bothers my churchgoers, but her unwed status. I shake my head and go to find Kellen.

  “Where’s Lillian?” he questions when I enter the room alone.

  “I told her to get some rest. It’s best for her and the baby. How far along is she now?”

  Kellen deliberates for a moment, “Around seven months, I think. She's getting big. It won’t be long before I get to hold my baby girl.”

  “You’re having a granddaughter? Congratulations!” I tell him, and he beams proudly.

  “Er…yes, thank you…So how are you today, Pastor?”

  “I’m good. Just doing my usual rounds before I have to get back to the church,” I reply, ignoring the unease which swirls in my
gut at his evasive answer.

  Kellen is a good man, and even though I've noticed he’s extremely protective and possessive over Lillian, he’s never given me cause to be overly concerned. He’s only ever wanted what’s best for her, but sadly he was unable to prevent Landon from corrupting her. Despite Landon’s influence, I’m pleased Lillian has remained pure of heart even if she didn’t keep her body sacred. I still have hope for her soul, although I’m beginning to wonder about the safety of my own.

  I end up staying longer than I intend, but thankfully, Kellen is my last visit for the day, so I’m not too far behind in my duties. It’s nearly midday by the time I finally leave his house, and the last person I expect to see as I head to my car is Esme walking towards Berkley Woods and disappearing between the trees.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Esme

  The local woods have been calling to me ever since I moved here, and a map of the town of Stonewood shows they aren’t as extensive as they first seem. I reckon I could walk through from one end to the other in less than half an hour. It’s a beautiful day, and the other night feels more like a lingering nightmare than reality. I’m not going to let what happened keep me from exploring, so I decide to indulge my curiosity and investigate.

  There’s a narrow dirt trail leading into the woodland, and after the recent rainfall, I’m glad I thought to put my boots on for this trek. I probably should’ve also worn jeans.

  I can’t have been walking for more than a minute when a voice from behind me draws my attention.

  “Esme!”

  I turn with a frown. Who knows me around here? A prickle of fear sends shivers down my back. I’m tempted to keep going but curiosity gets the better of me. A desire to identify the owner of the voice keeps me fixed firmly in place. A figure emerges from between the trees, and I relax slightly when I recognise Pastor Frollo. I’m surprised he remembers my name after only meeting me once.

  I’m not entirely sure why I wait for him to catch up to me. Maybe it has something to do with the fact he didn’t immediately disregard or scorn me when we first met.

  “Thanks for waiting,” he says, smiling once he’s merely a few feet away.

  I shrug. “You called out to me, and it seemed only polite to wait. I assume you had a reason for following me in here?”

  “I thought you might enjoy the company, and I wanted to see you again,” he admits.

  I’m taken aback by his candidness. I’m surprised he'd want to see me, let alone be seen in my presence. The rest of the townsfolk have been quick to make their judgments and have decided I’m an outcast. I know they’re right, but it doesn’t make their snap assumptions any easier to accept.

  “I’m sure you have better and more important things to do than spend time with me,” I reply honestly, unable to keep the disbelief from my tone.

  He frowns and steps closer until he’s standing directly in front of me.

  “I don’t have anywhere else to be other than right here,” he says quietly, and his breath washes over my face, bathing me in the scent of peppermint.

  My blood turns to ice, and I gaze fearfully into his eyes. A gasp escapes from my lips as the blue of his irises darkens until his eyes are the colour of midnight. Taking a hesitant step away from him, the memories of the other night’s encounter swim to the forefront of my mind.

  “Y-you?” I stammer.

  He frowns before closing the gap.

  “Why are you afraid of me?” Lifting his hand, he runs the tip of his finger down my face. “I haven’t done anything to earn your fear.”

  My breath escapes in a whoosh, and I flinch away from his touch, turning to face the path ahead.

  “Esme? Why are you afraid?” he demands, his voice deepening with frustration and concern.

  I round on him. “I’m not afraid.”

  “Good,” he says more confidently, and closing the distance between us, he captures my lips with his and holds me flush against his body.

  He consumes me with his mouth as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me even closer to him. When he runs his tongue along the seam of my lips, I open up to him, and he dips his tongue inside. The strong flavour of mint hits my taste buds, and with that taste, the fear resurfaces.

  “Stop,” I say against his mouth.

  He breaks the kiss but doesn’t release me. I exhale sharply, and wriggling free from his grip, I shake my head and give him a derisive look before storming up the path.

  Heavy footsteps follow behind me along the dirt track, so I increase my pace until I’m nearly running, taking care not to trip over tree roots and loose rocks. I finally reach the other end of the trail, and emerging out onto a street, I crash straight into a young man. We both hit the ground hard, and I feel the skin on my knees grazing beneath my skirt as they connect with the concrete pavement.

  “Sorry,” I groan, rolling off him and getting shakily to my feet.

  “It’s okay,” he responds, sounding slightly winded. “It’s not every day a beautiful woman throws herself at me. I’m hardly going to complain about it.”

  I blush at his compliment and get to my feet, brushing myself off while he does the same. I glance nervously behind me, half expecting my pursuer to come barrelling through the trees at any moment.

  “I’m Quinlan Matthews,” he introduces himself with a smile.

  “Esme,” I respond faintly before refocusing my attention on him.

  “Beautiful name. Esme…?” he waits for me to give him my last name.

  I hesitate for a split second before obliging. “Byrne…Esme Byrne.”

  “I was just on my way into town for lunch, Esme Byrne. Would you like to join me?” he asks, smiling down at me now he’s recovered from our surprise tumble.

  I gape at him in shock. “Are you being serious?”

  His brows furrow in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be? I've not seen you around Stonewood before. I’m guessing you’ve just arrived, and it’s been a while since I visited, so it’s almost like I’m new in town too. As we’re both newcomers, why not get better acquainted with each other?”

  I bite the inside of my cheek while I consider his words. A rustling from the trees behind us sends a shiver down my spine. I don’t know if the pastor is watching us, but going for something to eat with Quinlan seems like the ideal way to escape.

  “Sure, I’d love to come,” I tell him. He smiles broadly at me and his grin lights up his entire face.

  Quinlan’s eyes are pale brown beneath a pair of rectangular, wire-rimmed glasses, and his hair is only a shade lighter than my own. He stands a good seven inches taller than my five-foot-four, and I can see he’s got a slim build under his fitted t-shirt and jeans. Looking at him more closely, I guess he’s in his early twenties…definitely younger than me.

  As we walk down the street, I look back over my shoulder and catch sight of the pastor emerging from the tree-line. Coming to a standstill on the pavement, he watches us depart with an unreadable expression on his face.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Frollo

  I’m uncertain as to why Esme freaked out like she did when I kissed her, but her running away awoke the beast inside me. It called for me to possess her, and like a predator scenting its prey, I gave chase.

  The last thing I expected was for her to bump into Quinlan and go off with him. It angers me to see Esme walking away with my nephew. However, it would be catastrophic to attempt to interfere in broad daylight. I want to call out to make her aware of exactly who he is, but I won’t. I must resist the desire to take this any further, although now I've had a taste of her lips and felt her body against mine, I’m not sure I’ll be able to. I know deep down in the shadowed recesses of my soul I won’t be able to rest until I've claimed her fully for myself. There’s no way I’ll let Quinlan slip between us and snatch her from me, family or not.

  I should leave, but curiosity has me stalking after them at a distance until they enter the only tearoom in town. Even though Esme glances over her should
er occasionally, I manage to avoid detection. Taking a swift diversion, I make for my house and the church. I need strength and a clear head before I decide on how best to proceed from here.

  Unlocking the doors, I allow in the few locals who choose to visit the church daily. The presence of our God within the stone walls of this building gives them peace and a moments respite from whatever ails their lives. Some come here to escape, and others to pay their respects. Maud, one of the oldest women in town, makes the short journey from her house every single day like clockwork to light a candle and say a prayer for her departed husband; today is no different.

  It feels like an eternity has passed by the time I conclude my prayers and escort the last of my parishioners out of the church. I check my watch; a dark leather strap holds the antique dial in place. I see that it's only been two hours since I saw Esme wander off with Quinlan. For the sake of my sanity, I hope by now they've concluded their little meet-and-greet over coffee and cakes.

  The quiet peace of the church has granted me a fraction of the clarity I sorely needed. I realise the devil slipped in during that stolen moment with Esme, making me act in haste, and worse still, causing a barely restrained envy to emerge at seeing my own flesh and blood with her. Yet, even though the sin of her mouth on mine burns like a brand on my tongue, I still desire more.

  After securing the church doors, I leave the grounds and wander up the garden path to my front door. I venture inside, and the faint sound of voices reaches my ears. The familiar deep tones of Quinlan and a softer female voice…Esme is here. The bubble of excitement at knowing she's in my home quickly bursts when I realise she's here with Quinlan, not me.

  A sudden possessive craving rears its tempestuous head, and a fierce anger sizzles in my blood, burning my veins. I’m taken aback by the strength of my emotions and attempt to rein them in…to little avail. I shut the front door quietly behind me, so I don’t draw their attention, and move slowly into the house. I bypass the kitchen and make my way up the stairs to my room.