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Curiosity Killed The Cat

Page 19

by T. H. Hunter


  “Vox was a stupid error on Harrow’s part. As you surmised yourself, Vox was an addict, as well as being lazy and arrogant. But he wasn’t stupid. And soon enough he suspected Harrow of having something to do with the murder of Wiley. As I had intended, in fact, because I needed someone to take the blame once I had succeeded in poisoning the spring. I had little time left. I tested how much silver would be necessary to complete the job.

  It was all making sense now.

  “So that’s why so many students fell ill before the exams? They had taken some of the contaminated Elixir?”

  “Indeed. I used a smaller dosage as I had to conserve as much silver as I could. My tests were successful. I ascertained that I would soon have enough material to accomplish what I had set out to do. But a certain Miss Flynn was also getting a little too interested in the case. I needed to convince you that it was all Harrow’s doing before he was caught – or better killed.”

  The light from my torch flashed ominously across Doctor Yurasov’s spectacles.

  “But as much as I enjoy chatting with you, Miss Flynn, we really need to get ahead. It cannot wait. You see,” he said, tapping one of the tanks with the greyish fluid beside him. ”This is no ordinary silver. It is colloidal silver, many nanoparticles of silver in liquid water, invisible to the naked eye, but extremely potent at exactly the right concentration. I produced enough of it over many months within these chambers, though I am afraid they have become rather destabilised as a result. You, however, must make a decision Miss Flynn. If you join me, we will be able to explore your powers in a way that would not appear possible to your wildest imaginations right now. Or would you rather prefer to throw your life away because you are too afraid to do what it takes?”

  “I can’t let you do this, Doctor Yurasov,” I said quietly, raising my rapier.

  “Come now, Miss Flynn. Let us not be so crude with our threats.”

  And then, out of nowhere, he tugged hard at the nearest tank. It came crashing down, its contents spilling into the spring below. It hissed, with spirals of steam emitting from the pool, emitting a horrible stench of something foul burning.

  Before I could reach Yurasov, he had torn the second container into the, too. There was only one more left. If the third container landed in the pool, all was lost. The contamination would be irreversible.

  “Forgive, Miss Flynn, but I cannot allow you to stop me,” he shouted as we were engulfed in the poisonous steam from the pool.

  And from his waistband, he pulled a gleaming silver dagger. But I was ready. I lunged for him with my rapier, but he dodged sideways. Instead of going for me, however, he rushed to the third and final container, attempting to throw it into the pool, too.

  I got there just in time. I stabbed, but he parried my blow and withdrew. He dodged around to the back of the tank, forcing it forward with the full force of his body. It was going to fall into the pool beyond. But, in the process, Yurasov had left himself wide open to attack.

  I thrust once more, and this time, my aim was true. My rapier pierced his body completely on his left side, just below his heart. He yelled out in pain, gripped my blade and tore it out as fast as he could. A stab would not be enough, the blade had to remain long enough within him to do any damage.

  But as Yurasov tore out the blade with a violent movement of his hands and body, he lost his footing on the slippery stone. In his desperate attempt to prevent the fall, he grabbed at rim of the tank, which was the only thing in reach. It gave way almost immediately, following him in his fall.

  With a horrible thud, he landed on the stone floor with his back. The tank had fallen too, and its deadly greyish content was spilling out uncontrollably, right over him.

  I rushed to Yurasov, trying to get the tank off of him, but it was too late. The liquid had already covered every inch of his body, burning into him like acid through the naked flesh. He shrieked and yelled as it melted relentlessly into him. And then, he fell silent.

  At that moment. the patter of feet heralded the arrival of Raphael and the Knights. The First Warden was leading them.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Stephanopoulos demanded, looking aghast from the empty tanks to the corpse of Doctor Yurasov lying amidst a puddle of silver on the stone floor.

  “He’s dead, First Warden,” I said. “Killed by a poison of his own making.”

  23

  It would be a long time before I’d be able to process what Doctor Yurasov had done. The betrayal was beyond comprehension. He had been a mentor, almost like a surrogate father, who had perhaps the greatest hand in my martial training. And yet, he had decided to sacrifice me, to hand me over to Harrow and the Criswells for his political game. I had meant nothing to him.

  Uncertainty and shock dominated the following days, and not only for me. The coronation of Raphael had taken place on Christmas Eve. From all over the world, noble families and ordinary vampires alike had streamed to the castle to see the event. And, to everyone’s surprise, it had occurred without incidents. Although many vampires in attendance surely had treason in their hearts, none of them dared to speak out against the new monarch, an act that would have made them Outlaws in the eyes of the Council. Evidently, without Yurasov to lead the rebellion and with the decontamination of the spring well underway, the taste for revolution had passed – at least for the immediate future.

  The term, meanwhile, had ended for all of us. As I sat together in the Great Hall one last time with Lynn and Jayden (who had made up and were back together again), as well as Sarah and Steve, I felt truly at home. Whatever had transpired within these walls, Cranvin Castle had been my safe haven. It had nurtured me. And nothing would be quite the same anymore.

  And then, it was time to say goodbye to them. My closest friends were going to return to their families for the winter break. And though I had come to accept the death of my grandfather, nothing could ever replace him during Christmas. For me, it would be a season of sadness.

  “Goodbye, Beccs, I’ll see you next term,” said Sarah. “Oh, before I forget, Raphael – I mean, the King – asked me to tell you that he’s waiting in the courtyard for you.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I wished her farewell and then headed for the courtyard.

  Raphael was standing a few yards away, facing the castle’s main gate. The crown suited him. Several Scarlet Knights were at his side. When I approached, he nodded to them, and they dispersed.

  “So,” I said, smiling mischievously. “Should I call you ‘your Highness’ from now on, then?”

  “Raphael will do for the moment,” he said, grinning. “I’m still adapting to my new duties, you see. Shouldn’t take advantage of my new position.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He suddenly became a lot more serious.

  “I have to make a trip to Greece in the new year. I’d very much like you to accompany me. If you are willing, of course.”

  I looked at him sadly.

  “But it’s hopeless, isn’t it? You and me. They’ll never let you.”

  “We’ll see about that, Rebecca. I intend on making a lot of changes.”

  Then, he held my hands in his.

  “Will you come?”

  I looked deep into those brown eyes of his.

  “Wherever you want me to.”

  The End.

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for reading Curiosity Killed The Cat, the first book in the Cozy Conundrums series. If you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it, you can make sure that you will be the first to know when the next instalment in the series is released by joining my mailing list.

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  Yours truly,

  T.H. Hunter

  Works by T.H. Hunter

  Scarlet Curse, 2017

  Curiosity Killed The Cat, 2017

  Available on Amazon!

 

 

 


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