The Haunting of Brier Rose (29 page)

"All right." Taylor held the door open for her, and
Rose stepped across the threshold.

The cellar beneath Brierwood mansion was like the room in a house
where everything was tossed and visitors were never allowed to wander. The rest
of the house, though old and outdated, was a showpiece of craftsmanship and expensive
materials. Not so the cellar. It was the abandoned project, the poor
relative,
a raw ugly cavern hacked out of dirt and stone.

Rose flipped on the light switch, which illuminated a bare bulb
hanging from a twist of wire at the bottom of the wooden stairs. Beyond the
stairs was a curtain of darkness, hiding a series of other bare bulbs that had
to be turned on one by one.

Taylor and Bea creaked down the stairs behind her. The gloom
below was almost too opaque to be penetrated by her flashlight.

"Paradise lost," Taylor murmured sarcastically.

"Really lost," Rose replied. She gained the cellar
floor and waited for Taylor and Bea to reach the bottom. She rubbed her nose
again, hating to take a single breath of the close, musty air.

Taylor scanned the perimeter of the room with his flashlight.
"What's down here, anyway?"

"Everything," Rose replied. "Canning supplies.
Jars of preserves that no one ever eats. Newspapers your aunt saved since the
time she first came here—the twenties, I believe."

"Good God."

"Then there's the furnace room. And a place that was
walled-in after being used as a garage. Only no one bothered to take out the
car."

"What's the dripping noise?"

"The wall leaks under the west wing," Bea explained,
rubbing the backs of her arms. "There's a sump pump that takes care of
most of the groundwater. But some of the cellar just stays wet all year
round."

Rose remained at Taylor's elbow, longing to wrap her hands around
his arm and seek the protection of his body. Instead, she took a resolute step
toward the next light.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get this over
with."

They turned on the next light and did a systematic search of the
area, poking into dark alcoves and inspecting shelves and cupboards. All Rose
wanted to do was tum tail and run up the stairs, but she forced herself to
continue, knowing they had to exhaust every possible hiding place.

One by one she turned on the lights, and little by little they
crept through the cellar, a pitiful reluctant parade, sinking their feeble
beams of light into the blackness. Once she took time to glance at her watch
and saw that it was already nine o'clock. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, but
in the next heartbeat she felt a burning twist of anxiety sear through the
emptiness. Only by concentrating could she keep her flashlight from shaking and
betraying her terror.

Somewhere beneath the closed-off east wing, Taylor aimed his
light at the wall.

"What's that? "
he
asked.

Rose turned and followed the light beam. "A boulder."

"What's a boulder doing in the cellar?"

Bea walked up to stand at Taylor's elbow and added her flashlight
beam to his. "The builders came across the rock during construction. When
they couldn't move it, they simply built the foundation around it."

"Incredible." Taylor walked closer. The rock was chest-high
and protruded into the chamber a good three feet. "Looks like the
foundation is cracked."

"Old houses shift," Bea put in, trailing after him.
"Plus, we've had some fairly strong earthquakes over the years."

"There's a sizable crack above the boulder."

Reluctantly, Rose followed them. She had no desire to get any
closer. Once, when she was younger, she had approached the stone, only to feel
a blast of fetid wind blow out of the crack. The thought of a hidden cavity
behind the moldering wall, not to mention what might lie beyond it, had been
enough to fuel her adolescent nightmares for years.

"I wouldn't think the foundation is stable, with a crack
like that," Taylor continued, walking to the boulder. "It must be two
feet wide."

"Taylor," Rose implored. "Let's go. I don't like
it here."

He glanced at her over his shoulder. "I've got to check this
first, Rose. Eliminate all possibilities."

She held her breath and shivered as he angled his flashlight for
a better look.

For a moment Taylor froze, holding the light above his head as he
stared into the gash above the rock. Rose knew something was wrong by the way
his body stiffened, but she couldn't see his face to read his expression. Then
he motioned for them to stand back.

"He's here," Taylor gasped.

To Rose's horror, Taylor dropped his cane, pulled
himself
on top of the rock and wedged his body through the
crack in the wall. She dashed
forward,
ignoring his
command to stay away, and saw the bottoms of his feet disappear into the gloom.

"Taylor!" she cried. Her heart thundered in her ears as
she craned her neck to see where he had gone. With a shaking hand she trained
her light into the abyss and spied Taylor crouching over a figure wrapped in a
shroud. She moved the light over the figure and saw the scarf on which she had
slaved so many hours serving as a barrier between Seth and the damp earth.
Beyond the two men was a chamber that wormed far back into the earth, too far
for her light to penetrate.

"Be careful!" she whispered as she watched Taylor
slowly pull away the scarf from Seth's torso. Seth lay near the opening, hands
crossed over his chest, his profile in full view of her light. His eyes were
closed, his mouth slightly open, his cheeks gaunt and pale in the darkness. His
body lay motionless, as if he weren't breathing.

"Has Taylor found the emerald yet?" Bea asked behind
her. She was too short to see anything through the crack above the rock.

"No." Stale air wafted from the chamber, and Rose held
her hand over her nose. "Hurry, Taylor! Please hurry!"

He gave no indication that he'd heard her. With calm, deliberate
movements he slipped his hand into the strange black robe Seth wore, searching
for the emerald, but without success. Rose marveled that he could retain his
composure under such stressful conditions. Next he tried the sides of the robe,
looking for a pocket or pouch. Taylor let out a frustrated sigh and leaned over
to pull the scarf down, enough to allow him to check the other side of Seth's
body.

Suddenly, outside in the garden, a dog howled mournfully, sending
a wave of shivers across Rose's scalp. As if cued by the sound, Seth's eyes
blinked open.

In that moment Rose knew pure, heart-shriveling terror.

"Taylor!" Rose cried, knowing he was intent on unveiling
Seth and wasn't looking at the vampire's face. "Taylor! He's awake!"

Before Taylor had a chance to scramble backward, Seth sat up and
flung off the scarf. He looked right at her, his odd sunken eyes locking with
hers.

Rose thought her heart would stop, thought her knees would buckle
and she would drop into a dead faint. But her worry for Taylor kept her on her
feet. She forced her mind to go blank, knowing that Seth could delve into her
thoughts and find out what they were after. She concentrated on the silver
swirls of the scarf and thought of galaxies, of the Milky Way and the end of the
universe,
all the while hoping Taylor might get away.

Taylor whipped the gun out of his jeans. "Hold it right
there, Seth," he warned, aiming the weapon at Seth's chest.

Seth began to snicker. Then he tipped back his head and laughed,
filling the chamber with the unholy sound of his amusement. It echoed off the
stone walls
of the cellar, traveling through the labyrinth
like a maelstrom. Rose clamped her palms over her ears, trying to block out the
noise, but she could still hear his laughter through her flesh and in her
blood.

Taylor held firm, refusing to give in to Seth's ridicule. Never
once did his hand waver. Rose wondered if the discordant blast no longer
affected Taylor of if he had learned to overcome the effect of the noise.

"Go ahead," Seth growled, abruptly biting off his
laughter. "Shoot me."

He stood up, taking the scarf with him.

Taylor clenched his jaw as he considered his options.

"Shoot me, Mr. Wolfe. Go ahead." As if to test Taylor,
Seth lunged at him.

In reflex, Taylor squeezed the trigger. The bullet passed through
Seth's chest without spilling a drop of blood. Seth didn't even flinch.

"Again?" he taunted, smiling his small, mirthless
smirk.

Taylor squeezed off two more shots, hitting his mark, but without
consequence.

"Finished, Mr. Wolfe?" Seth purred.

Rose gaped at him, shocked by Seth's invulnerability and
distrustful of his ominous civility, for she knew how quickly he could burst
into a rage.

Taylor let his arm swing down to his side, still holding the
useless gun. He waited in grim silence as Seth folded the silk scarf and tucked
it into his robe.

Seth brushed off his clothing, taking all the time he needed, and
then straightened. "You could have saved yourself the trouble," he
commented, stepping toward the rock as if he weren't in the least concerned
that Taylor might attack from the rear. "The emerald can't save you."

Rose heard Bea's intake of breath as she caught sight of Seth in
the fissure above the boulder.

"And now, dear Roselyn. The time draws nigh for our wedding
ceremony."

"No!" Taylor yelled. He burst through the opening,
toppling Seth to the floor of the cellar. For a moment they struggled on the
ground, but Taylor was no match for the other man's superhuman strength. Seth
stood up, yanked Taylor to his feet and threw him across the room. Taylor hit a
shelf lined with cans of who knew what and crumpled to the dirt, while nails
and screws rained down upon him. An old coffee can rolled in circles at Rose's
feet. She was barely conscious of the spiraling tin, so great was her fear for
Taylor.

"You told me you'd spare him!" she blurted.

Seth turned his glowing eyes upon her. "Did I?"

"Yes. You wouldn't go back on your word, would you? That
isn't the Bastyr way.''

His upper lip curled into a sneer. "Precious, precious
Roselyn. How quick to learn, how flawless a memory. You are the ultimate of the
Bastyr offspring."

"So you won't hurt him?"

"Of course not." Seth fussed with his gloves. "If
he promises to leave Brierwood."

"No way, you bastard!" Taylor retorted. He stood up and
wiped the blood from his mouth. "I'll see you in hell first!"

"Such language," Seth remarked. "I can't see what
Roselyn finds so attractive about you."

Rose was too upset to blush. She darted forward to give her
support to Taylor, but Seth reached out and arrested her by grasping her braid.
Pain seared her scalp, and she lurched to a stop, tilting her head backward.

"Not so fast, my dear," he murmured, pulling her
against his chest. His robe reeked of nightshade and the pungent aroma of moist
earth. She thought she would retch if she took a deep breath.

"Please, Taylor," Rose implored. "Go while you
have the chance."

"No!"

"There's nothing you can do now."

"Listen to the bride," Seth put in. "She's being
sensible."

"I'm not leaving you alone with him, Rose."

Bea skittered to Taylor's side, all the while keeping a fearful eye
on Seth. She held out her hand to display her emerald ring. "Don't you
dare try to hurt Mr. Wolfe," she warned in a quivering voice. "I've
still got my ring, and I'm not afraid to use it."

Seth only chuckled at Bea's trembling display of courage.
"And how will you use it, old woman? Do you know the secret of the
emeralds?"

Proudly, Bea raised her chin, but Rose guessed that she was
ignorant of the power of the gem. Rose gazed at her through
a
sheen
of tears. She had never loved Bea more than at that moment, as she
stood up to the vampire in the only way she knew how.

"Well, if you do know the secret, then work your
magic." Seth laughed and pulled Rose toward the main hallway. "Try to
stop me, old woman."

Bea stood helpless as Seth moved to the door. Rose dragged her
feet as much as possible, until his grip on her hair forced her to keep up with
him.

"I don't mean to be cruel, Roselyn, but you must cooperate."

"Never."

"Let go of her," Taylor demanded, striding after them.

Seth only laughed.

Taylor grabbed his shoulder and pulled Seth around to face him.
Seth released his hold on Rose's hair. She backed toward the wall, worrying
what Seth would do to Taylor.

"You bastard! I said, let go of her!" Taylor drove his
fist into Seth's face, knocking him against the wall. Seth shook his head,
dispelling the impact of the blow, and smiled. Taylor lunged for him, intending
to pummel him senseless. Instead, Seth lifted his leg and kicked Taylor in the
stomach, hurling him across the room again. This time Taylor's head struck the
boulder, and he collapsed to the floor in an unconscious heap.

"Taylor!" Rose cried.

"Silence!" Seth roared. "He's no concern of
yours." He grabbed her arm and yanked her to the passageway.

"Taylor!" Rose cried again, peering over her shoulder as
she was hauled away. She saw Bea run to his side and kneel down. Then Seth
pulled her around a corner, and she lost sight of them. She quit fighting him,
knowing she would never escape Seth now. And if Bea and Taylor stayed away long
enough, perhaps Seth would remain true to his word and spare their lives. She
brushed the hair out of her eyes and let herself be dragged out of the cellar.

"That's better, my dear," Seth murmured, opening the
back door. "And don't worry so much. It will all be worth it. Just you
wait and see."