Deception (23 page)

“Was there something else?” the witch asked.

Lillian told the witch about the humans praying to the master or at least to the gateway to his realm. She also told her about the information they found in the book. “Do you know what any of this means?”

Abigail sighed, finished her last sip of tea, and put her cup down. “I am discouraged to hear that the master has human worshippers. I’m not sure why he might need them, but as we know, he uses human strength to infuse his own power. He did so with the countess when he ascended. He had hoped to use her death to save himself the pain of recovering from entering an unnatural state.”

“Unnatural state?” Dorian’s heart raced.

“The master has no place in our world. He plans to change it to suit himself. When he’s strong enough, he will block out the sun. Humanity will die without the sun, but until that time, he will use them. If those people worshiped of their own volition, the promise of some reward must have been very great. Perhaps he promises everlasting life or a place at his side when he rules. I cannot say.”

“How do we reverse what they are doing?”

“I do not know, but I will give the problem some thought. You are right. If we have the power to strengthen him, we also have the power to weaken him. There is balance in all things.”

Lillian stood. “Forgive us for rushing out, Miss Higginbotham. We have much to do today.”

Dorian followed her to her feet. “One last question if you do not mind, Mrs. Higginbotham?”

Abigail walked with them toward the front door. “Anything.”

“How do we close the gates? Now that we have found one, how do we render it useless?”

“If you can find me the exact wording used to open the gate, I may be able to attempt a spell to close it.”

“We shall try to get you the information.” Lillian shook her hand and turned toward the door.

“Thank you for your time.” He offered his hand and she took it.

Pain spiked up his arm to his head as if a nail had skewered him through the temple. His mother’s face burned in his eyes.

He pulled his hand away.

Abigail’s eyes were wide. Her cheeks went pale, and her forehead creased with pain. “I’m sorry. You must go to your mother’s home. Something terrible has happened.”

Dorian practically tore the door off the hinges. “Lilly.”

“I am with you.”

He pulled the carriage door open, and Lillian jumped inside. “The marchioness’s townhome.”

The driver whipped the horses into motion while Dorian still hung half outside the carriage.

Lillian gripped his arm. “What on earth happened?”

“I cannot say. I saw my mother’s face and felt excruciating pain. Besides that, I only know what Mrs. Higginbotham told me.”

The carriage hit a dip in the road, and they both had to grab hold of the seat to keep from flying into the ceiling.

Once in town, the driver took the turns at dangerous speed. Dorian’s body slammed against the side of the carriage, and Lillian toppled on top of him. He righted them both. The carriage turned the other way, and he held the window frame to keep from crushing her. They arrived at the Montalembert townhouse and stopped short.

Dorian’s entire body tightened with dread. He took the steps two at a time and rushed through the open front door.

Several maids were wailing.

The butler sat on the steps with his head in his hand. He had a rag to stay the flow of blood from a wound on his forehead. His skin was deathly white and sweat dripped from his chin. Two footmen lay unmoving in the doorway leading into the front parlor.

“What in the name of God happened?”

The housekeeper, Mrs. Milne, stepped from the parlor. Her face was pale and tears streaked her cheeks. “My lord, they took her. We tried to stop those monsters, but there were too many of them and we were unarmed. I would have died to stop them. I would have died….”

He pulled Mrs. Milne into a hug and patted her back. He knew these servants for years. Many of them had been with the family since he was a boy. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t their fault. If anyone was to blame, it was he and Brice for getting involved with the demon hunters to begin with. “You are not to blame. Go and help Jenkins.”

His mother often spent her mornings reading or writing letters in a private parlor at the back of the house. Books and papers littered the floor. The small writing desk lay shattered along with the rose damask chair where he’d seen his mother sit a thousand times.

A note rested among the shards. It had been positioned face up in the center of the mess. Dorian picked up the message, and dread filled his bones.

Your noble blood will make me whole again, as it rips you apart at the cross that is no longer holy.

Lillian leaned over his shoulder. “My God, he’s going to use the marchioness’s blood to restore himself.”

“The cross that is no longer holy?”

Jenkins stumbled through the door. “Holyrood, my lord. It means holy cross.”

Dorian rushed from the house. He called back, “See that a surgeon is called to care for that cut, Jenkins, and all the other injured.”

The driver was about to change out the horse. Dorian grabbed the animal and swung up. He grabbed Lillian’s arm and pulled her up behind him. Ordering the driver to follow them to the shambled church, he kicked the beast into a gallop.

He kept up the breakneck pace until they approached Holyrood’s ruins.

Lillian slid to the ground and pulled her blades. “We cannot allow the master to become whole again.”

“That is not a concern.”

“I know this is your mother, Dorian. I do not want anything to happen to her either, but if the master regains his power, we are all doomed.”

He swallowed down bile and pushed forward to the stairs leading down into the demon’s sanctuary. “My mother’s blood will do the master no good.”

Fires burned in a dozen cauldrons around the room, setting the walls glowing. Two durgot priests canted until the noise vibrated from the ceiling.

Halfway down the steps, which curved around the circular wall, Dorian jumped and rushed toward the center of the room where his mother was strapped to a stone altar.

When her son came into view, the marchioness’s eyes were wide and she screamed. “Go back.”

Dorian circled to the right and Lillian to the left.

The second demon held up a broadsword. He circled the other and continued the chant. He countered Dorian’s stabbing blow.

Steel on steel vibrated up his arm. He spun to come at the demon again from the other side.

One of Lillian’s throwing knives lodged deep in the durgot’s eye. He gurgled and dropped to the ground.

The chanting stopped.

Between Dorian and his mother, a black vortex opened. A man emerged as if suspended in the center of the whirlwind. Black hair surrounded his pasty flesh, and his dark eyes were ringed purple.

Lillian grabbed Dorian’s arm and yanked him back from the master.

“It is good you are here, hunters. You should witness my greatness. All of your kind will soon know and fear the new master of your world.”

Pulling away from Lillian, he ran around the gap and toward his mother.

* * * *

Lillian ran in the opposite direction, looking for an angle to throw another knife. The durgot kept the marchioness between them, and she could not risk it.

Dorian was less than a foot away, and she was maybe ten feet from the altar.

The demon’s blade sliced through his mother’s throat. Blood spilled from the wound and pooled on the floor.

Dorian’s face twisted in a mask of pain. He swung his blade and sliced the durgot’s throat as it had his mother. Its body crumbled by the altar.

Serenity settled over the marchioness’s expression, and her lifeless eyes stared at nothing. Her features softened, and she was gone.

Dorian grabbed her. The bellow that echoed through the chamber was pure devastation.

Lillian’s chest ached with his agony.

The master laughed.

She turned, putting herself between the creature and the altar.

“You can do nothing. Her blood flows and soon it will strengthen me. His blood too will add to my healing. You are not even worthy of killing.”

The blood ran down from the altar through a series of crevasses cut in the floor in the shape of the sign of the master. Ruby red, Dorian’s mother’s blood made its way toward the vortex.

The master opened his mouth as if to welcome the taste, spreading his arms in an embrace.

What could she do? Her heart raced. Swiftly, she took the
sai
from her right boot and hurled it toward the demon’s heart.

It lodged there, but no blood flowed around the blade.

The blood on the floor reached him. His eyes widened.

Lillian looked for signs of the master’s recovery. She expected him to grow larger and more formidable, but he only stared.

Black oozed around Lillian’s sword. He pulled it free, looking at the wound. His eyes widened, his face paled and the rings under his eyes darkened. He looked at the altar.

Dorian cradled his mother’s body and wept. Her blood filled the crevices in the floor.

The master’s roar filled the space, barraging the walls and knocking her off her feet.

His image faded until it was transparent.

His screamed cracked the dome ceiling. The large lantern crashed to the floor next to where Dorian held his mother’s body.

Lillian held her ears against the torrent.

The twisting of the void sped up, grew smaller, and disappeared with the master.

Lillian removed the long coat she wore into battle, walked to the altar, and covered the marchioness. She had no idea how to help Dorian. There was no help for it. They had done their job, and his mother had paid the price.

The master’s message was clear. Even in his weak state, he had the power to get to the people they loved. Still, something had gone wrong. The blood of the marchioness had not strengthened the master, and Lillian’s sword had wounded him.

All the people Lillian truly cared for were hunters. They could take care of themselves, and in war, there is always death. She knew some of her friends might die. She hoped they would have glorious deaths in battle and not end up like the woman before them.

“Dorian, we must get out of here.”

His face streaked with tears and twisted with rage and pain.

Her heart ached for him.

He stood. “I will not leave her here.”

“Of course not. All three of us will go.”

He lifted the lifeless body of his mother. Silent tears continued down his face. “I am so sorry,
maman
.”

Lillian’s heart broke for him. Her gut twisted and her chest hurt. She wanted to ease his pain, but it was beyond her power.

The carriage waited close by, and they climbed in. The drive was slow with Dorian’s horse tied on the back and no need to rush home.

Dorian cradled his mother in his arms, murmuring to her, though his tears had stopped.

Lillian’s mind whirled with questions, but one could not wait. “Why did the master’s plan fail, Dorian? Why did her blood not strengthen that monster?”

His head came up, and his eyes burned with anger and grief. “My mother is the finest woman I have ever known. She was everything good and kind in the world. She did no harm in her lifetime and helped a great many people with the use of the title of Marchioness of Montalembert. When my father was a young man, his father’s steward and his wife were killed. My grandparents took in their sixteen-year-old daughter and gave her an education. It was frowned upon when the two fell in love, but my father married her anyway, and they continued to adore each other until his death. Now that she has joined him, I feel certain they are happy again.”

Her throat closed around the spill of emotions. Tears ran down her face unchecked. “I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am, Dorian. I would have given my own life to save your mother.”

“I have no one to blame but myself. I should have protected her better.”

“You can blame the monster who did this, Dorian. This is not your fault. You and Brice do what is right, and your mother would not have had it any other way. She raised you to be great men. To have chosen a different life to afford her safety, at the expense of the rest of the world, would have only disappointed her.

“Thank you, Lilly.”

The carriage stopped in front of his mother’s townhome. He didn’t open the door as usual, and when she reached out to do so, he placed his hand on hers. “May I ask a favor of you?”

“Anything. I would do anything for you.”

“Will you send for my brother? Tell him what has happened. I will never find the words.”

Emotion both tender and sad swamped her. “Yes, of course.”

The driver opened the door, and Dorian handed his mother down to him before jumping down and carrying her inside himself.

The earlier mayhem had transformed into bereavement at the sight of her ladyship’s body. Never before had she seen servants so devastated over the loss of an employer. The housekeeper took the ladies maid into her arms, and the two women wept together. She would not allow anyone to prepare the body, saying they would care for her ladyship as they always had.

Lillian stayed close but found a quiet spot to pen a letter to Brice. Finding the words wasn’t easy, and in the end, she could only apologize for bearing the worst news and ask him to come to Edinburgh with haste.

She found the butler sitting in the kitchen on the servant level. His head hung, and he clutched it as he stared into the empty hearth.

Realizing she still had her skirts pulled up for battle, she stopped and untied the ribbon that held them above her knees. The material flounced around her feet and she stepped forward. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Jenkins.”

He straightened, though he did not stand. A white bandage covered the wound he’d sustained. “No bother, miss. How can I be of assistance?”

“Are you sure you can manage? That was a nasty gash.”

“I am well. Thank you, but do not concern yourself, miss.”

She admired his strength of will to serve the family. “I have written to Mr. Brice Lambert. He is at Brendaligh Castle near Inverness. I have asked him to come home. Can you have a messenger take it quickly?”