Pyromancist (38 page)

Her hands flew to her head as reality slowly
set in. Coldness enveloped her, an iciness descended on her soul,
and in the same instance, the fire died.

Lupien cracked his neck to the side, the
bones clicking audibly into place. He moved the revolver around to
Erwan’s left eye, placing the barrel over the eyeball. “They say a
bullet can shoot a clear hole through the socket without killing
instantly.”

Another ball of fire the size of a tennis
ball exploded to Lupien’s right. It only burned for two seconds
before it extinguished.

Lupien pressed the weapon against Erwan’s
stomach. “Of course it would be a lot more fun to shoot him in the
gut, to watch him suffer while he dies so very slowly.”

This time bigger flames leaped off the floor
on Clelia’s left. She felt the power inside herself, knew that by
mere desire, she could spur them on if she wanted, let them lick
and consume the man who threatened her grandfather with as little
as a change of thought. She also sensed danger in being on the
verge of giving herself over to the frenzy that demanded entrance
into her mind. Instinctively she knew that she could enter that
state of mind right now that would allow her to burn anything she
wished to ashes, but with all of her last, remaining conscious
logic, she held onto the shreds that kept her human mind in
control.

As the need to protect Erwan grew, so did her
power, and she saw Lupien enjoy watching her fight not to give in
to the overpowering urge to lash out at him. Her body shook and her
teeth chattered. She could not look away from Lupien. She felt
herself slowly being taken over by a force that demanded nothing
less than the extinction of the evil man facing her. It was like a
shadow that started to fall over the sun, inch by inch working
itself to a full eclipse. Her nails dug into her palms as she tried
to hold on to reason, to expel the fierce need for hating Lupien
that started to take shape in her being. The mental and physical
effort made her breath come in gulps. She sweated and trembled
while Lupien laughed.

Invisible flames surrounded her. She could
feel it in her mind. It was both frightening and liberating. Trying
desperately to direct her attention away from Lupien, she turned
her head and focused on the far end of the corridor. Clelia watched
in shock when a much bigger fire erupted exactly where she had her
eyes trained, the flames reaching all the way to the ceiling.

“That’s it baby girl,” Lupien crooned, “burn
for daddy. Come on Josselin’s whore, just a little bit more.”

“Clelia, no!”

Erwan’s voice drifted to her, but it was
distressed, and instead of calming her, it added fuel to her fire,
the need to save him an almost uncontrollable rage now. She watched
helplessly as she started to fulfill Lupien’s command by letting
the flames go higher, arching off the ceiling, the smell of burning
wood infusing the air.

“Clelia, don’t.”

The voice that spoke came from downstairs. It
was measured, unemotional, and controlled, and it had the desired
effect, because the flames retracted. Her reason gained ground as
her fury calmed.

She knew that voice. It was distinct. She
would recognize it anywhere.

“Cain,” she said, before she turned to face
him.

He stood in the front door in a white suit,
leaning on his cane. “That’s exactly what he wants,” he said,
crossing the entrance.

“Cain,” Lupien said smoothly, “now my joy is
complete. When I take her art, you’ll die screaming. I’ll burn you
alive.”

Cain took his time to mount the first few
steps. “You could have had so much, but you wanted it all, and now
you’ll end up with nothing.”

Lupien snickered. “You can’t stop the second
Dark Age from coming. It’s time. We’ll reign, just like before. But
this time we won’t be snuffed out and forced underground. I’ll take
what’s rightfully mine, and then I’ll enjoy smelling your flesh and
bones melt.”

Cain was halfway up the stairs now. “You’ve
had your chance, Lupien. And they don’t come along twice.”

Chapter
Twenty-Four

Siril was sitting on the terrace steps when
Josselin pulled up to the castle. He was surprised to see the boy
still there. It was a little past lunchtime already. The weapons
contact he had met in Vannes was late, to his irritation. For
safety reasons, Josselin had decided not to take Clelia along, but
he had been eager to get back to her. He also had been eager to get
the guns. They needed all the protection they could buy. Lupien
wasn’t far. He could feel it. At the first chance that presented
itself, he’d go after the bastard and take care of him once and for
all. It was a pity he couldn’t do it before, but getting to Clelia
was a priority.

Not wanting to exhibit his purchase in front
of the boy, he left the weapons in the boot of the car and crunched
his way across the gravel to where Siril sat with his hand on his
chin.

“What’s up, boy? Why are you still here? I
thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Siril squinted up at him. “Madame de Arradon
took my bike. I’m waiting for her to get back.”

Josselin froze. “What did you say?”

Siril pulled his shoulders up to his ears.
“She said she was going to the market to buy food for lunch.”

Josselin had to take deep breaths not to
explode. “How long ago?”

Siril checked his watch. “Maybe two
hours.”

His blood ran cold. Two hours was too fucking
long. It was hard to keep a calm demeanor.

“Which village?”

“I think she was going to Josselin. She asked
how long it took to go there by bike.”

Anger and fear flared in him. “Wasn’t your
aunt supposed to cook lunch?”

“Madame said she wanted to surprise you. She
told me to call Izabell and tell her not to come.”

“I thought I made myself clear when I said
she should stay here,” he said more to himself than to the scrawny
red-faced boy who looked like he wanted to bolt.

“I gave her the phone you left,” Siril said,
squirming under Josselin’s hard stare.

“Stay here,” Josselin instructed, turning
back to the car with long strides.

“Er, can I catch a lift with you back to
town?” Siril called after him. “I can get my bike later.” He
mumbled under his breath, “Don’t feel like facing wolves
again.”

Josselin paused and swirled around. “What did
you say?”

Siril’s face flamed. “Nothing.”

Josselin walked back to him slowly. “What was
that part about the wolves?”

Siril almost cowered. “It’s just been a
strange morning.”

Josselin’s scalp pricked. “Why?”

“A pack of wolves cornered me inside for
almost half-an-hour. The beasts were waiting for me at the door. I
couldn’t come back outside until they were gone.”

“Four of them?”

“Yes.” Siril frowned. “Do you know about
them? I knew there were foxes in the woods, but wolves are only
supposed to exist in the legends.”

“They’re not wolves, they’re dogs.”

Siril blew air through his noise. “Could have
fooled me.”

“And then they left?”

“I hope so.”

“Did anything else happen?” Josselin asked
carefully.

“Like what?”

“Did anyone come around?”

“No.” Siril scratched his head. “Only that
man called for Madame de Arradon.”

“What?” Josselin nearly grabbed Siril by the
collar and shook him. “Which man? Where did he call?”

Siril looked baffled. “I think he said his
name was Erin. No, Erman. Wait, Ernan.”

“Erwan?” Josselin said, finding it hard to
keep his irritation hidden.

“Yeah. Erwan.”

His heart started pounding in his chest. No
one had that number. Only one person had the means to break through
all the measures Josselin had taken to keep the number secure.

“What did he say?” His voice was flat, his
body a string ready to snap.

“Uh, he said he’d wait for Madame de Arradon
in your house.”

Holy fuck. It couldn’t be. Please, God, no.
Not that.

In a second, his vision blurred. If anything
had happened to Clelia...

“I’ll call your aunt to come get you,”
Josselin said.

This time he sprinted for the car, praying
that he wasn’t too late.

* * * *

The stairs creaked as Cain took another step.
“Don’t give in to your anger, Clelia. It’s the only way he can harm
you.”

Clelia felt her emotions stabilize at Cain’s
gentle warning. His even, almost disinterested tone had a calming
effect on her. In a second, the fire that raged at the end of the
hallway shrunk to half its size. The tongues of flames didn’t reach
all the way to the ceiling any longer, but neither did they die
down as Clelia had expected.

Lupien chuckled. “Yes, she started that one
Cain. Look at that beautiful fire. The others died before they
could live. She killed them with her fear. But this one, she gave
it life and it’s feeding now, on the floorboards and the rail and
the curtains... It will feed on anything that stands in its way.
It’ll feed on you. It’s too late, now.”

Clelia turned her head in Cain’s direction.
She felt sick.

“Don’t listen to him, Clelia,” Cain said.
“He’s trying to twist you. He can’t take you if you haven’t given
in to the dark side of you.”

Lupien pressed the gun under Erwan’s chin.
“We’ll see how dark she gets when I do some wall art with her old
man’s brains.”

“Keep your eyes on me, Clelia,” Cain said.
“Don’t look.”

She started shaking uncontrollably when she
realized that Cain had already accepted Erwan’s murder as fate.

“No. No,” she said through trembling lips. “I
can’t let him kill Erwan. I can’t let him do it.”

Her eyes were drawn to a movement by the
door. Her heart slammed into her ribs when Josselin entered, his
coat trailing behind him, his arm muscles flexing, his face pulled
into an expression of calculated murder.

“Ah!” Lupien exclaimed. Clelia looked back at
him to see her father do a crazy little tap dance. “Just the guest
I was waiting for. Welcome home, Josselin. Now you can tell us
exactly where you mother’s organs were draped when you found her,
so I can reconstruct it accurately when I rip your whore’s insides
from her belly.”

Josselin launched up the stairs. He looked
like a demon. Underneath his coat, Clelia saw the body holster with
the weapons.

“Josselin, no!”

Her voice was only a whisper and not enough
to penetrate Josselin’s state of rage. She knew he was going to go
for the kill. Fear knotted her insides together. Josselin passed
Cain, and when he reached the top of the stairs, she reached out to
touch his arm, but before her fingers came near him, his coat burst
into flames.

Clelia screamed, but Josselin only peeled the
garment from his shoulders as if he couldn’t hear or see her,
dropping the coat to the floor to reveal the extent of the
protection strapped to his body. The flames smothered under the
cloth. Smoke rose from the fabric.

Lupien giggled like a girl. “Coming to me
with knives and guns, Josselin? All right, let’s have some fun
first.”

Clelia stared in horror as Josselin’s long
hair caught fire. Her whole being protested. She ripped her sweater
over her head and frantically beat at the tiny orange tendrils that
rapidly melted the ends of Josselin’s hair. It wasn’t hard to put
out and she guessed that Lupien was just playing with them. It was
a game of cat and mouse. The smell of burnt hair filled the space.
Her hands went to her mouth.

“Fight me like a man, Lupien,” Josselin said,
still not paying Clelia any attention.

“And spoil all the fun?” Lupien said. “I
don’t think so.”

A fire sprang up around Josselin, surrounding
him with white tongues of heat. Clelia immediately sensed that it
was a different kind of fire. Josselin seemed to know it too,
because instead of jumping through it, he stayed put.

“The heat is enough to melt your bones to ash
in a second,” Lupien said. “Do you like my pretty prison? Now,
stay, like a good dog, and watch your witch whore die.”

Only then did Josselin meet her eyes. She
could see the emotions flickering in his–fury, anxiety, passion,
pain...

Josselin unclipped a clasp on the weapon
harness and lifted a strange gun. It looked like a shotgun with a
cone-shaped barrel that flared out at the end. He aimed it in front
of him and pressed the trigger, which released a stream of white
foam. The flames where the foam hit disappeared instantly, and even
as he moved forward to exit the burning circle, he already had his
free hand on another weapon. Before his foot was outside of the
danger zone, the flames jumped back into place.

“Not so fast,” Lupien said. “Another move
from you and I cremate her now.”

Josselin looked at Clelia, his helplessness
and his fury etched on his face.

“I want to have some fun first,” Lupien said.
“I’ll start with the old man and my rival Cain, then I’ll do her.”
He pointed the gun at Clelia. “I’ll have you last,” he said to
Josselin, “so that you can benefit from the show I intend to make
of burning her.”

Tears ran down Clelia’s cheeks. “Please. Let
them go and I’ll give myself freely.”

Josselin reached out then. “No. You won’t
give yourself to that monster, do you hear me? You won’t die.”

She bit her lip, holding her husband’s gaze.
“I just want it to end.”

“Good girl,” Lupien purred. “You make your
daddy proud. I’ll give you one chance to hurt me, to turn your
pretty heart black, before I burn you like a witch and feed on your
delicious power.” He licked his lips.

“Don’t do it,” Cain said from behind her, his
voice even. “That’s what he wants.”

“Be a good naughty girl and do like daddy
does.” Lupien’s smile was a grimace. “Or watch them die.”