Hemlock Veils (43 page)

“You don’t have to.”

“You’ve left me no choice! If it’s true, if you’re friends with this…
thing
, you’re the only way we’ll get close enough. It’s time. He’s
got
to go. He’s terrorized us long enough, and I’ll die tonight before I let him live another day.” He pulled her along again. “Besides, if he won’t let any harm come to you, like Eustace says, then you ain’t got nothing to worry about, do you?”

Eustace wouldn’t meet her eyes. Just like Regina.

“As far as I’m concerned,” Brian interjected, speaking for the first time, “you’re just as much a devil as the beast.” His fingertips dug so hard she would surely be bruised afterward, and the light of Doc’s lantern caught the saliva spraying from Brian’s mouth. She wondered how long he’d been inebriated. “I should’ve seen it before. Protecting the monster like you’re some—”

“You’re more of a monster than he is,” she said, and his eyes whipped in her direction. If she didn’t have Taggart at her other side, surely he would have hit her.

They continued to drag her through the forest that reminded her of Henry and even of her father. She still felt her father here, even after all this, and she missed him then more than she had at every moment combined during the past month. How would he feel knowing she was in the midst of one of his fairy tales, that she was the single thing to make it crumble?

“Sheriff,” she pled. They walked the path she usually walked with Henry. “He didn’t kill Sheppy. I know this because he was with
me
. Please listen to me. You’re making a mistake. There’s something else here, and it won’t be merciful like the beast. Your lives are all in danger.”

“Sheriff,” Nicole said from behind, her voice tainted with fear. Honestly, Elizabeth was surprised she was here at all, even slightly impressed by the bravery it showed. “Maybe…we should listen to what she has to say. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“Course you don’t,” Taggart said. “What we’re doing here ain’t fun, Nicki. No reason to have a
good
feeling.”

“Sheriff.” Regina’s voice was stronger than Nicole’s. “C’mon now. You’ve taken it too far.”

“You didn’t think so earlier,” Brian said. Elizabeth had given up her struggle by now, but she threw her weight slightly to the right as they passed a cedar whose trunk intruded on the path, and Brian’s arm hit it with a thud. More saliva flicked from his mouth as he cussed.

“That’s because I didn’t know what we were gonna do,” Regina continued. “Handcuffing Beth and using her as bait?”

Taggart turned to her sharply and Regina recoiled, the beam of her light illuminating her face from beneath. “You got a problem with it, Regina, you’re welcome to go home.” His eyes shot to everyone else, at least thirty souls scrunched on the narrow path and even amidst the dense trees. Despairing faces, fearful eyes, all lit by their lights. They were at least fifty yards into the forest by now, and a small clearing waited just a few feet ahead around the bend. “That goes for everyone,” Taggart went on. “I get it if this is too much for you. I won’t blame you for leaving. But if you stay with us, you’re
with
us, and I don’t wanna hear any questions about the way I’m going about it.”

“You really think Mr. Clayton will approve of this?” Eustace said, and she could tell the idea didn’t sit right with him either. “I’d bet he’d kill you himself if he knew. He and Beth
are
friends.”

“You wanna go wake him up, be my guest.” Taggart and Eustace engaged in a brief stare-down, and when no one else spoke, Taggart yanked her arm and continued on his way.

“Tell him about the demon you mentioned,” Eustace said at Elizabeth.

As though on cue, an ear-piercing scream lifted in the air, not far from where they were—near the clearing just ahead—and her heart stopped with everyone else’s.

“Shit’s sake,” Eustace said under his breath, tightening his hold on Betsy. Taggart pulled his handgun from his holster and so did Deputy Holman, who’d been quiet the whole time. Elizabeth wanted to tell them guns would be useless, but she couldn’t speak. Every part of her froze with fear.

Henry.

Slapped by the blunt, breathtaking wind of reality, she turned to Taggart, pleading like she’d never pled before. “Sheriff, you have to let me go. He’s in danger.” Taggart’s brow furrowed and she went on, “It’s her, the demon, and if you want to get through this with no more deaths, I have to go to her. Leave me and get out of here.” She struggled in their arms. “You have to trust me.”

Taggart looked at Brian. “Let’s keep going.”

She fought with all her strength, dragging her feet. It wasn’t long before they reached the clearing and they paused, observing the stillness. Nothing was here; not even the smallest insect could be heard. The moon reigned high in the sky, the west still a grayish hue from the setting sun, and the stars were beautiful—far too beautiful for the doom she felt inside.

“Tie her to a tree,” Taggart said at Brian, and through the authority in his tone, she sensed his conflict.

“Sheriff!” she cried while Brian shoved her against the nearest trunk—a cedar, damp against her back. A rope looped through the small chain of her cuffs then around the tree, her hands pulled tightly against it. “Please, let me save him! Let me save
you
!”

She jumped when a shot cracked through the air; Taggart’s gun was angled upward behind them. “We have her!” he shouted. “You want her, come and get her!”

It came then, the air of
Diableron
—nearly seizing her chest. Elizabeth stared at the trees across the clearing, preparing herself. This was it, the time everything would change. The wind told her so, stirring the forest as doom stirred her heart.

Amidst a difficult breath, she announced, “This is your last chance, Sheriff. She’s here. Go home.”

“Who’s here?” he asked with a shaky voice, and she knew he felt it too.

She appeared from nowhere, only feet away, and startled gasps lifted everywhere, even from Elizabeth. Her face, black, void, and melting away, twisted as she looked at every vulnerable soul with eyes Elizabeth couldn’t see even if she tried. By the way Nicole screamed and Brian stumbled back—and how everyone whimpered—Elizabeth guessed
Diableron
was appearing as something different to each person, showing their deepest, most personal fears. And perhaps to some the very sight of
her
would be their deepest fear.

Elizabeth shouted at them, trying to get their attention while she struggled against the tree, but to no avail. Taggart’s gun had fallen to the earth, and Holman was on his knees, tears streaming down his face. “Look away! Look at me!” Taggart didn’t and in the most booming voice she could muster, she yelled again, “Dammit, Sheriff,
look at me!”

He finally did.

“It’s not real, whatever you’re seeing. She’s only trying to scare—”

Something knocked the air from Elizabeth’s chest and
Diableron
was face to face with her at once, just like before. That cold, damp, heavy flavor; the invisible weight crushing her insides, sucking the oxygen from her chest too fast for Elizabeth to catch it. Her surroundings spun, her head whirled, and behind
Diableron’s
angry, bared teeth, the black hole that was her mouth tried sucking her in. Behind
Diableron
, people began standing again, looking around in disorientation, and she knew the images before them were gone.

“Where…is he?” Elizabeth managed stiffly.

“
Sssuffering
, like he deserves.”

Tears rose to Elizabeth’s eyes, though her breaths were diminishing. She tried not to sob, since she couldn’t afford the oxygen, and shook her head. “No.”

“
It’sss
no matter, Elizabeth. A soul like
hisss
isn’t worth
sssaving
. I’m doing the world a favor, doing
you
a favor. I’m
sssaving
you.”

“You’re…wrong,
Aglaé
. No matter…what you’ve done to him…he’ll never be a monster.”

She screeched, again baring teeth far more frightful than the beast’s fangs, and Elizabeth closed her eyes at the sound, the pitch hurting her ears. Then his roar, deep and booming: her eyes snapped open to the best sound she’d ever heard. He came into the clearing from her right, his leg in a limp and blood caking his fur. The light of the many lanterns lit the gash across his chest, showing muscle and other pink matter, and the crowd gasped.

He approached
Diableron
in a ready crouch with fangs bared, and she met him, releasing Elizabeth and leaving an oily mist to hover. Panting desperately, Elizabeth allowed oxygen to revive her. The demon laughed an awful sound as she began circling Henry, but he leapt for her. His fangs tore through the air, the action startling and abrupt, and the people Elizabeth once called friends flinched beside her.

The fight—nothing but a blur of rolling blackness and mass—transpired too quickly to catch, but Elizabeth heard the cries of pain coming from both. Tied against the tree, utterly helpless, her wrists became raw from the cuffs. But before she could beg Taggart to free her again, the scene changed before her.

Henry and
Diableron
came to a standstill—his body in a crouch, his breaths labored and raucous, blood and debris clinging to his fur—and a light came from within the demon, blinding and white. Then she wasn’t
Diableron
at all, but the most beautiful woman Elizabeth had ever seen, more beautiful than the illustration in her book. Her wavy and flowing red hair appeared to actually glow.

“What…the…?” Taggart breathed beside Elizabeth.

Aglaé
didn’t seem to notice her audience as she sauntered toward the beast. “Poor, pathetic Beast,” she said, her voice raspy, and sensual in an unearthly way. “Look into my eyes, Monster. Come to me.”

“No!” Elizabeth shouted, and
Aglaé’s
eyes shot to her with an abrupt sharpness, allowing, in her distraction, for Henry to attack. His fangs took hold of
Aglaé’s
shoulder, staining her silky gown with red instantly. But with a scream and a flip of her palm, she hurled him as though he weighed nothing, and he fell to the grass with a thud.

While he labored to stand,
Aglaé
ran to the crowd and sobbed, kneeling before Taggart and pleading in a way so real even Elizabeth almost believed it. God, even in distress she was exquisite. “Please,” she cried, grasping a fistful of Taggart’s polyester pants. “Please don’t let him kill me.”

“I…won’t,” Taggart said, almost in a trance.

“She’s not real, Sheriff!” Elizabeth shouted.

Aglaé’s
glare was subtle at best. She rose, gently placing her hand on the side of Taggart’s face, her other on his arm. “Your gun. Use it, Sheriff. You’re so strong and brave. Save us all.”

“Don’t.”
The two of them blurred, swirling. Even though it would always be fruitless, she struggled with the cuffs.

Taggart picked up his gun, though with difficulty since he was shaking, and aimed it at the beast, who managed to stand on all fours. Before Elizabeth could plead again, he fired, startling her more than he had the first time; but the beast was gone, standing at the opposite end of the clearing. Taggart’s bullet had missed entirely, and Elizabeth released a sob of pure relief.

Henry stared at her with his animal eyes, brown and ringed with gold. “Go!” she said at him. “Get out of here!”

Aglaé
growled, dropping some of her pretense, and just when she turned back to Taggart, Eustace lifted his shotgun. It took a moment for Elizabeth to realize what was happening.

That it wasn’t aimed at the beast.

***

Eustace had never been a man to fall for a ruse. Especially when it came to conniving and devious women. He’d known a few in his life, could always pick them out of a crowd. And
this
, whatever she was, had manipulation all over her. He couldn’t explain it exactly, but knew one thing for sure: she wasn’t what she appeared to be. And with the way she seemed to come from nowhere—first appearing as a decaying corpse that he realized was himself, then as a demon, and now this—he had nothing but the deepest of sinking feelings all throughout him. While viewing her from the end of his double-barrel, reality hit him: she was the one responsible for everything. Sheppy, the screaming, the terror, and even Gina Gray’s cats.

A wave of guilt rolled through him and he wished he would have realized this sooner, before Brian had tied Elizabeth up. She’d been right, about everything. And the most unsettling thing was that in the back of his aging mind, he’d known it all along.

“I’d watch where you point that,” the woman said, the corner of her mouth lifted in a seductive smile. She was a sight to see, that’s for sure, but that’s where it would end for him.

“I’d shut your mouth, woman, before I pull the trigger.” Eustace backed her up and she lifted her hands. His neighbors mumbled around him and Taggart asked what in Hell’s sake he was doing. But he wouldn’t fall for it like they had. Her back met the needles of a fir, and unlike a moment ago, when she’d been a sobbing, frantic mess at Taggart’s feet, she was cool as a cucumber, lifting a brow in fascination. As though his Betsy could do nothing to her. Probably it couldn’t, since the slash in her shoulder didn’t seem to affect her like it would a normal person with a soul and feelings.

“I see age has dulled your male appetite.”

Grinding his teeth, Eustace shoved the barrels into the soft spot on her chest, just between her breasts. Her skin
was
supple, he allowed himself to think in a moment of stupor. Alabaster, shimmering. He shook his head. “My appetite’s fine. I just won’t be fooled by a temptress.”

“A temptress? Is that what you think I am?”

“I don’t know what you are, but you’re something not far from the Devil.”

She threw her head back and cackled, the sound as grating as nails on a chalkboard. In his disorienting distraction, she took hold of his gun. But just as she twisted it from his grip, the monster attacked her from the side, trapping her beneath him. Eustace backed away, watching—seeing the thing for what it was, for the first time ever. How had Elizabeth been right this whole time? How had she seen it in the beginning?