Angus saw his daughter and smiled. “Good girl, Cornelia,” he said. “You were wise to come to me.” He raised his hand as if to strike her, and Harvis, Oliver, and I tensed to attack in spite of the odds against us. Jova remained paralyzed on the porch as Cornelia turned her face away. Angus dropped his hand. “If you stayed in that house one minute longer, I was going to have to give you a little reminder not to disobey me again. Come, it is time I return you to your rightful future husband so I can get the dowry he has promised me.”
Cornelia looked her father right in the eyes. “There isn’t going to be any dowry—from him, at least,” she said. “He is not the one I am promised to, Father.” Cornelia held out her diamond ring, which glinted exquisitely in the moonlight.
Angus was taken aback by her boldness as he assessed the size of the ring. “Oh, you will be married, Cornelia, and that marriage will be to Andrew Murfield,” he said. “I don’t care who gave you that little bauble. You will do as I say and marry Murfield, or suffer the consequences.” A slight wind began blowing from the east, and the trees swayed ever so slightly. A distant peal of thunder echoed faintly, and a flash of lightning lit the night sky. A storm was coming. Angus sniffed at the air uncomfortably, but I could see he was confused. “I don’t care what magic this is,” he spat. “You will be loyal to the Pack.”
“That is my big sister’s onus—not mine,” Cornelia said. “Remember me, Daddy? Your second-born cripple? You never took me to your cult—I mean Pack—meetings. I wasn’t good enough for you, but I have found someone that thinks I am more than good enough.”
”Now, now, pumpkin,” Angus said, actually looking like he was feeling bad, or it could have been the unease in his stomach as the storm raged closer. “You are plenty valuable to me, actually quite the commodity, which as you know is something I know a whole lot about!”
“I am in love, Father—something you know nothing about.” Cornelia sniffed. “There is nothing you can do or say that will ever change that.”
“Is that so?” Angus said, a smirk creasing his face. “Who among these degenerates is your so-called love? Is it the troll? Please don’t tell me it’s the vampire.”
“What do you have against vampires?” I said, ignoring his glare and stepping closer to Cornelia. Garlic jumped down off the porch and joined me, sitting at Cornelia’s feet. “You wanted her to marry a half goblin, half pompous ass, and you are complaining about vampires? Well, don’t worry, I am not the marrying type.”
“Who in the hell are you? Did I tell you to speak, boy?” Angus said.
I was happy to see the clouds cover the moon and cast darkness across the farmyard. If this confrontation went the way I thought it would, I would have a chance against the werewolves, as a slippery, wet, dark farmyard would even out the odds in my favor. Thunder boomed ever closer, and I could smell the rain approaching. Come on, storm, I thought, facing Angus.
“My name is Sirius Sinister, you babbling buffoon,” I said, flashing my fangs in challenge. “And I don’t need your permission to speak.” I could see Harvis and Molly rolling their eyes, and I think the expression on Oliver’s face was one of displeasure. But I’d had enough of Cornelia and the Howler’s blusterous sire. And Angus Blackheart had apparently had enough of me.
He turned to his assembled troops. “Kill the vampire,” he said. “And any that oppose you. I am taking my daughter—”
“You are not taking Cornelia anywhere, sir,” Jova said, coming to Cornelia’s side. He took her hand in his, looked her confidently in the eye, and winked. “This meeting is certainly not how I thought our introduction would be, but my name is Jova Hopkins, and I would request the honor of your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
Angus leaned forward, looming over Jova. He burst out laughing and slapped his beefy thigh. “Hold on, hold on,” he said. “We can kill a vampire anytime. Whoa, this is truly superb. Cornelia, this pauper is your love?”
“I am no pauper, sir,” Jova replied. “And I can pay a more than ample dowry.”
Angus puffed out his chest and gave Jova his most penetrating glare. He poked Jova in the chest and sneered, “No grandchild of mine will have a red-striped head like some kind of crimson skunk, I don’t care how much gold you have.” His soldiers roared with laughter, but Jova stood his ground, holding Cornelia’s hand even tighter. Angus sniffed the air around Jova and frowned with the unease he clearly felt. “Hmm, what hole did you crawl out of?” he said. “Not a mortal, not a warlock, you smell like . . . like . . . what is that?”
“It’s fear, sir,” Jova replied calmly.
“I don’t know fear,” Angus scoffed, looking back to his troops for approval.
“Well, you are about to,” Jova answered.
A massive peal of thunder drowned out Angus’s answer, and lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the farmyard like it was daylight. Down came the rain in a deluge, and I rejoiced as I anticipated the battle was about to be joined. A bloodcurdling scream came from Angus, and his troops scattered as their horses reared in sheer abject terror. I blinked through the heavy rain and saw that covering Angus were not drops of rain but rather hundreds of small black spiders streaming down from the night sky onto his hair, beard, mouth, and down into his armor. He backpedaled, clawing blindly at his eyes and mouth, and slapped at his arms as he choked and spit up bits of spider, but more kept coming down in a never-ending stream to take their place. He fell back into a pile of manure and lay covered, convulsing under a river of blackness until finally the rain of arachnids let up. Deserted by his troops and covered in manure, Angus threw up his dinner on himself, and looked up to see Jova standing over him. “Who . . . who are you?” he gasped.
“I am the Bogeyman,” Jova replied. “And I am going to marry your daughter.”
Angus’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell back onto the manure pile.
“Well, that went well, don’t you think?” I said to our assembled group. I looked to Jova and Cornelia. “I don’t think you are going to have a problem getting married now. And you might not want to mention that bit about a dowry again.” I looked at the now completely unimposing figure of Angus Blackheart stretched out in the manure, and wished I had the chance to mention that little issue I had with his other daughter before he fainted clear away. The smell of the wet manure was overpowering to my sensitive nose—perhaps after Angus’s bath, we would have a chat. But what would I say to him, because I had absolutely no intention of marrying the Howler. I sensed that now was the perfect time to take my leave.
Harvis and Oliver had grabbed Angus by the arms and were hauling him in the direction of the farmhouse. Jova looked to Cornelia, and both of them seemed confused as to what to do next. Molly however had no doubts. “Where do you think you are taking him, Harvis?” she called to her husband.
Harvis and Oliver stopped in their tracks. “To the house,” Harvis offered.
“I don’t care if he is family,” she said. “He stinks of manure, and a ten-day ride. Take him to the barn with the rest of the animals, throw a bucket of water on him, and fetch him some of your clothes.”
“My clothes?”
“Yes, your clothes,” she said.
“Aye,” Harvis assented, and he and Oliver turned and dragged Angus toward the barn.
Jova turned to Cornelia and looked nervous all of the sudden. “I am sorry about what I did to your father,” he said. “That was not very nice.”
“It wasn’t very nice of Father to basically sell me to Murfield, now was it?” She snorted. “He deserved everything that you did to him. Maybe, just maybe, that pompous sire of mine will finally learn a little humility.”
“What was all that Pack nonsense Angus was babbling about?” Jova asked. “Is the Pack just a name for your family unit, and him trying to make you feel guilty?”
“I am not sure why he mentioned the Pack to me, actually,” Corn
elia said. “I have always been the odd werewolf out. The Pack is indeed the family, whose leader is Father. The Pack is strength in numbers, and, well, I am a single bit of weakness.”
“Maybe if he thought you were finally going to be accepted by him, that you would ditch Jova, and do what he said,” I offered. “He thought you should be loyal to the Pack above all things, even love.”
Cornelia shrugged. “That is where dear Daddy failed in ever really knowing who I am,” she said. “I don’t give a pile of manure what he thinks of me. I don’t need him, or his Pack. I don’t need anyone!”
“Okay, then,” Jova replied. “When he comes to, I will press my advantage, and even though you don’t care about it, I am a traditionalist. I will get his permission to marry you, even if it costs me my share of the treasure. The gold is not important to me because poor is all I know. I used to think I didn’t need anyone either, but then I met you. I need you. Like, need you, need you!”
Cornelia fairly melted into his arms, and I watched rather enviously as Jova and Cornelia stood off to the side of the farmhouse, lost in their own private world of kisses under the now clear night sky. Molly grumbling under her breath had disappeared into the farmhouse. Now was my chance to leave without anyone seeing me and asking me questions that I didn’t have answers to. Harvis would keep my share of the gold safe, and the Howler, well, she would understand if she even cared.
“Come on, Garlic,” I whispered. “Let’s go.” I motioned in the direction of the road to London. But Garlic pointed her nose in the direction of the farmhouse and barked softly. “Oh, right,” I said. My backpack lay just inside the doorway, and contained some gold, provisions, and my assassin’s kit. We snuck into the house, and Garlic pointed down the hallway to the Howler’s room. “Not a chance,” I hissed. Before I could say anything else, she barked loudly and raced down the hallway. I froze momentarily, backpack in hand, trying to decide whether to leave in true assassin fashion and let Garlic try to find me . . . or face the Howler. I turned and took one step toward the door to make my exit.
“Going somewhere, Sirius?” asked the Howler.
I whirled on my heel to find the Howler standing in the dark hallway. Garlic sat at her feet, looking up at me with what I could have sworn was a doggie smile. “No,” I answered. “You mean other than going back out to the barn to help Harvis and Oliver with your father’s bath?” I heard a great splash of water coming from the barn, followed by a veritable flood of cursing.
“Hmm, sounds like they have things well in hand,” she said. “Father so hates bathing. You are better off with me. And besides we have to talk . . .”
We retired to the spare bedroom, where she had been holed up since our return from Port Royal, and closed the door for some private conversation. The room was lit by four candles perched on the nightstand, and the Howler looked as beautiful in the flickering warm light as she had back on Saona Island when we had sat by the fire, what now seemed, so long ago. I shuddered involuntarily as I walked close to the warmth of the room’s hearth, where a fire roared invitingly. “Let me help you with your shirt,” the Howler said sweetly. “You are going to catch a cold all soaking wet like that.” She did not stop at my shirt, and her hands roaming all across my body raised my heat even more. She kissed me deeply on the mouth and stepped away, invitingly holding onto my manhood for a tantalizing moment as she did. She blew out the candles, slipped into the bed, and dropped her nightshirt to the floor. I slid quickly into the bed, and she was on top of me, her mouth covering mine, and her tongue darting and probing as she sighed with pleasure. Her breasts were full and bountiful, bigger than I had remembered. She moaned as I caressed her nipples, and she thrust my manhood deep inside her right as I noticed the swell of her belly.
She saw where my eyes had gone and grabbed my hands and placed them on her belly as she took me in ever harder and deeper. “Marry me, Sirius,” she said. “For the children, for our children—marry me.”
The blood was rapidly emptying from my brain, and my swollen member was nearing its bursting point. “Marry you?’ I gasped. “But, your father hates vampires.” It was the only thing I could come up with at the moment, and the Howler had the answer.
“Jova took care of Father,” she said. “And besides, you don’t want your four little bitches being bastards, do you?”
”How do you know you are having girls, and four of them to boot?” Four girls, seriously?
“Simple, you do it on a blood moon—you get girls,” the Howler said. “And, I feel four distinct little fighters in here.
“Okay, fighters, huh?” I said. “Fine, I . . . I . . . I . . . I . . . will . . . marry . . . you . . .”
The next morning we all found a frantic Angus in the kitchen, staring out into the forest. “My soldiers will return in moments,” he said. “No one can know of what happened last night. If my men find out, they will lose all respect for me. And worse, all of Lancashire will know of my cowardice. I’ll be ruined, if not killed! The leader of the Pack cannot show any weakness!”
Jova was filled with newfound confidence and seized the moment. “Then you will give me and Cornelia your blessing in marriage, Angus, won’t you?” he said, patting his future father-in-law on the face.
Angus thought quickly and craned his ear for the sound of hoofbeats. “Jova, you have my wholehearted blessing to marry Cornelia,” Angus said. “You will be a powerful ally. I could use your considerable talents against my enemies in Liverpool. With your help, my new docks will revolutionize the merchant world in Liverpool, Lancashire, and for that matter—all of merry old England. Murfield will be coming to our family for money!”
“I’d like that a lot, sir. Anything I could do to humiliate Murfield would be a blessing,” Jova replied. “But, there is one thing . . .” He dropped his voice low and waved his hands in wide circles for effect. Angus drew back, looking outside for any spider-carrying clouds. “To be truly effective, my gifts must remain known only in this small circle,” Jova said. “Fear is most effective when it operates from the shadows. But rest assured, Angus, I have a sizable dowry to offer you, sir. It is the right and proper thing to do.”
But Angus would have none of it. “It is an honor to have the legendary Bogeyman as my son-in-law,” he said. “Even if no one knows that secret but me. And my enemies will be your enemies, and together we will change the world. I have a country house being built down by the River Mersey. I bequeath it to you and Cornelia and your children for all time.”
Cornelia and Jova embraced and pulled the gruff and cantankerous Angus into their hug, and I thought I saw the harder-than-forged-steel werewolf wipe a tear from his eye. The Howler chose that moment to make her entrance. I gasped, for by daylight, she was very obviously with child. And I was with her again last night. I wondered . . . Could she get pregnant again? Would that mean eight little bitches to contend with?
Angus screamed in terror when he saw the telltale sign of her pregnancy, and the Howler’s face grew a little ashen. Had she misjudged the effect Jova’s little lesson in fear had had on her father? But Molly leaped forward and snagged a tiny brown spider hanging from a silky thread in front of Angus’s paralyzed face. “Get out of the kitchen, you little crawler,” she said, “to the garden where you belong so you can eat all the vegetable bugs.”
“Father, I am with child,” the Howler announced to her sire. “And Sirius Sinister is the father.”
“Are you bloody kidding me,” Harvis grumbled, motioning Oliver to get between a soon-to-be enraged Angus and me. “Molly’s new kitchen is just perfect, and I will not have it destroyed by the likes of you two,” Harvis stated calmly. “If you are going to kill him, Angus, I will have you do it outside.”
But Angus stood leaning against the counter, his hand on his chest, which was still heaving with the terror caused by the minute arachnid. “Is it gone?” he asked. “Is that horrible little creature gone?”
The Howler came closer and grabbed her father’s free hand as his eyes wildly cast about the room. “So Sirius and I have your blessing?” she said.
“Blessing?” Angus said, looking from her belly to me and back to her belly again. “You cannot marry that vampire. Are you sure that the troll is not the father? Even that would be better than him.”
I really wondered what this cantankerous ball of dog fur had against vampires, but I heard the unmistakable sound of many hooves beating the ground—Angus’s troops were approaching. “I’ll be outside while you and your daughter work this out,” I announced. “I’ve got the most amazing story to tell those men of yours. I bet they are going to love that part where you faint like a little girl right into that pile of manure. I know that’s my favorite.”
“Stop!” Angus raised his hand. “You may marry my daughter. I am not sure what is more offensive—children born out of wedlock or those born to a vampire. But, I know that I cannot live with having blood of mine be illegitimate and from a vampire.”
“Thanks, I think,” I replied. “So what great house do we get?”
Angus rolled his eyes. “You can stay in the barn for all I care, vampire,” he said. “I have no house for you or your ilk. And I want gold from you, lots of it.”
“I am not giving you any gold,” I replied. “And we will settle for a nice cottage.”
“You are an enterprising fellow, so use some of that pirate gold and buy yourself a nice place in Liverpool,” Angus sneered. “Consider yourself a lucky vampire, for were it not for last night, there would not be enough gold in all of England for you to offer me as a dowry. And as to a cottage—that is positively unthinkable.”
“Well, I think I will talk to your fellows after all,” I said with a smile.
“Fine,” Angus seethed. “A bloody cottage it will be. Now, see if you can manage to keep that fanged mouth of yours shut.”
My Ex-Wife Said Go to Hell Page 18
