Vampire in the Woods (Merlin's Hoods Book 2) (8 page)

I
n the end
, it was a close thing. Angeline could hear the master vampire coming after them through the woods, though he didn’t make the sounds she would have expected. Rather than a crashing through the underbrush—as they were doing—she heard what she could only classify as the wind, accompanied by an eerie, sinister howling.

And though it didn’t sound like a creature running after them, hot on their tail, she knew for certain that it was the master vampire, tracking them and increasing his pace, attempting to catch them before they reached the safety of a closed and locked cottage.

“Faster, Geoffrey,” she huffed, reaching back to take his hand and pull him after her. The hood was funneling its strength into her muscles, pushing her body to move faster, but the boy was having trouble keeping up with her. He was younger, and certainly stronger, but also far heavier.

And he didn’t have the hood.

She yanked on his hand, though, seeing the small cluster of pines that meant they were nearing the woodcutter’s cottage. She’d always wondered why Piers didn’t cut these particular trees down—they grew far too close to his home, and would have made a lovely piece of furniture—but had since realized that this was his marker, of sorts. This was how he found his home in the dark. And now that she saw them, her heart opened in understanding.

Yes, there was something deeply comforting about seeing the trees, and knowing that they would be safe. Within a matter of moments, surely they would be safe.

“Run!” she gasped, yanking on Geoffrey’s hand again. “We’re nearly there!”

She heard the howling on the wind growing louder, and reached down into herself to find some additional strength. Only another minute. Possibly two. And they would be there. With walls around them, and a roof over them. A door between her friends and the vampire.

Please, God, let us make it,
she breathed in her mind.
Please, God, let me get this boy to safety at least.

Then, almost before she finished the prayer, their feet left the forest behind, and they were in the small clearing, the cottage rearing up before them. Angeline laughed aloud, despite herself, and pushed the final few steps to throw herself against the door.

“Piers, let us in!” she screamed. “Piers!”

The door flew open, and she fell forward, half laughing and half crying in relief. Geoffrey followed her then turned and slammed the door behind him.

“Geoffrey!” Piers shouted, throwing his arms roughly around his son. He drew back to look at him. “Thank the Lord, boy, I thought you were lost for certain.” He turned to Angeline with a frown on his face. “What’s going on? Why are you running as if the demons of Hell itself are on your heels?”

“They are,” Angeline gasped, getting to her feet and flying to the window. “Bar the door. Don’t let anyone in, no matter how friendly they look. There are enemies about, and I won’t have you harmed. Not on my account.”

“What’s going on, Angeline?” Piers asked again, moving toward the door and throwing the bolt behind it. “Where was my son?”

Angeline took a deep breath, her mind racing. Unlike most humans, Piers knew that vampires existed, but she wasn’t certain that she wanted Piers to know that a master vampire had taken Geoffrey. What it was capable of. The vampires must have charmed Geoffrey, to make him so pliable, and she hoped it would mean that Geoff himself didn’t remember what had happened. That it would all seem like a dream. Or a nightmare, more like.

But that didn’t change the fact that the master vampire may have followed them to Piers’ home, and that Piers and the boys would see it. As soon as that happened, their innocence would be ruined.

Better that they be prepared, she finally decided. Perhaps they would be safer that way.

She turned toward Piers, cast a glance at Louis, and another at Geoffrey, and then began speaking quickly. “There are creatures in the dark that you know nothing off, my friends. Several of them have entered our woods, seeking me. They met Geoffrey on the path home last night, and I suspect they charmed him and took him, thinking to use him as bait to draw me out. As you can see, it worked. I’ve killed three of them, but the last—the strongest—is still out there. He may be here in a matter of moments. For me.” She stopped speaking, her chest heaving, and glanced quickly out the window.

Nothing. Where was the vampire? Why was it taking so long? His absence worried her, for it could mean only danger.

Suddenly she realized that Geoffrey had disappeared. Her gaze raked the room, looking anxiously for him.

And then she heard him at the back door of the cottage. She heard the door open, and a low, smooth voice.

“Geoffrey, no!” she screamed.

“Please come in,” she heard him say. There were steps, and moment later the door closed.

Angeline was in motion before she could think any further. The vampires had certainly charmed the boy then, and the charm was evidently still in place—enough to encourage the boy to disobey her implicitly.

Which meant that the vampire was now in the house. With her. With the humans.

She jumped out the nearest window, making certain to break the wood of the frame as she leapt. Noise. She needed noise. The vampire had to realize that she was out of the house. Surely he would follow her. She commanded her feet to move and darted toward the forest, her heart racing along with her, her one thought of the three innocents in the cottage.

The vampire is only here for me,
she reminded herself. He would leave the humans to chase after her. Surely.

But when she glanced over her shoulder, there was no one chasing after her. She turned and darted back toward the cottage, running through a new set of plans—something that would get her back into the cottage but allow Piers and the boys to get out. As long as they were still alive.

When she reached the cottage, though, she found the vampire standing on the front step, a sly, satisfied smile on his face.

No blood on his lips, she saw. Perhaps he hadn’t fed on them, after all.

“I am done chasing you, Red Hood,” he said, leaning casually on his sword, his words a soft hiss. “You may run. I will kill the humans inside, and that will be punishment enough for you, I think. You will know of their death before I come for you.” He paused as if thinking, and then smiled more broadly. “Geoffrey has told me all about your daughters. Adela and Alison, is it not? I pray that one of them will become Red Hood when you die. They will be easier to kill than you, I think. Less experienced. Weaker.”

Suddenly Angeline was furious—angrier than she could ever remember having been. The very idea that this monster would dare to say the names of her girls—dare to threaten them—set her blood to boiling.

She would have to kill him, she realized. It was her plan before, but now it was certain. Five innocent lives depended on her, and she was not foolish enough to think that he would leave any of them alive if he killed her. No, if she were dead, it would just leave them more vulnerable. There was but one choice: battle him, and kill him, so that the rest might survive.

She flew toward him, brandishing the sword she’d stolen from the female vampire. It wasn’t the best of her weapons, but it did have the longest reach, and she wanted to stay as far from the creature as possible. Flying in, she swung, and swung again, her temper getting the best of her and making the blows rough and unsophisticated.

The vampire merely laughed and parried her attempts, smiling in her face with what she knew was condescending amusement.

She bit her lip and tried to gain control of herself. Remember her training. Taking a fighting stance, she fell into the set of moves that her husband had taught her—moves that were nearly indefensible, moves that had always led her to victory. An underhanded stab followed by a sweeping move from over her shoulders, to confuse the enemy. Then another sweeping move from the other side, followed by a series of quick jabs at the midsection.

To her shock, however, the vampire blocked all of her blows. He was obviously well trained, and both quicker and stronger than she, even with the hood’s aid. Before she knew it, he was driving her back, forcing her closer to the trees, where the fighting would be more difficult. She knew the forest better than he did, but she wasn’t as familiar with this section as she would have liked, and knew for certain that the uneven footing under the trees was going to make things far more difficult for her.

Turning, she dashed toward the nearest tree, thinking to use it as shelter while she at least caught her breath.

But the vampire was right on top of her, his foul breath on her neck, and she barely got to the tree she’d spotted before he took her to the ground. He threw her sword away from her and then ducked down toward her face.

Angeline cringed, certain that this was the end.

“Surrender,” he hissed. “Surrender your life willingly, or you will force me to kill the innocent people you love so much.”

This vampire was going to kill her. And the world would be left without a Red Hood who knew what she was doing. She’d cursed the entire nation. Put so many lives at risk. Suddenly, and without really knowing how it had happened, she was out of time. And she hadn’t done half of the things she’d meant to do with her life.

Angeline’s heart broke at that. She was defeated. She’d let the people around her down, sacrificed them to her own inabilities. Turning toward the cottage, she caught sight of the two boys. They were watching her through the window, their eyes wide and frightened. The boys made her think of Adela and Alison—so young, and so beautiful. She hadn’t taught them enough. She hadn’t given them the chance to prove themselves. And she’d made the biggest mistake of all: sacrificing herself without naming an heir.

She thought about the last sparring match between her daughters. Both girls had showed their talents. They could both have been good Hoods. But Angeline had been truly impressed by Adela’s ingenuity, especially while facing a guaranteed defeat. Yes, she would have chosen Adela, if given the chance.

Then she realized that it wasn’t over. Not yet. She looked up at the vampire, meeting his eyes, and prayed that he’d watch her face, rather than noticing what her hands were doing. He’d left one hand free—the one that had held the sword, and now she moved it slowly, reaching down toward the small pouch she wore at her belt. A gift from her husband, before he died. “Some place to keep the things you don’t want to lose,” he’d said with a smile.

Or things she didn’t want discovered.

She gazed up at the vampire, trying her best to look helpless and defeated. “Please don’t hurt them,” she breathed, hoping she sounded as if she truly believed that he would. “Please, take me and not them. I’m the one you want.”

With the last word, her fingers found the leather of the pouch and flipped it open. She reached inside, grabbed the bottle of water, and twisted. The vampire hadn’t been paying attention and flew to the side, surprised at the sudden movement. Within moments, Angeline was on her feet, the bottle held securely in her hand.

“What are you doing, Red Hood?” the vampire hissed. “I have already defeated you. Surely you don’t think to escape. Surely you don’t think to beat me.” He gained his feet, smiling nastily, and she breathed deeply.

No, she didn’t think to beat him with a sword. But he didn’t realize that she had the holy water.

She leapt forward without warning, heading straight toward him, and saw him lift his sword. Yes, he would go for the killing blow, she realized; already he was lifting his sword to take her out. She would have to …

Without thinking, she lifted the bottle and flung it at him, aiming for his face. The bottle hit his skin and exploded into a hundred pieces, the water splashing up over his face and directly into his eyes. The creature screamed, making the very earth around them shake, and dropped to his knees.

Angeline, going too fast to turn accurately, slid past him, avoiding his sword as best she could, though it bit into her side as she passed, and hit bone. She howled in pain but spun back toward the vampire.

“What have you done?” he hissed, the skin already melting from the bones underneath. He held his hands up to his face, but seemed as though he was already weakening, his skin growing tighter somehow. More translucent.

Suddenly he spun toward her. “I will end you!” he shouted, furious.

Angeline didn’t wait for him to make a move. She was already running back toward him, her own sword extended. She swung as she passed him, and the sword bit into his neck, slicing cleanly and hewing the vampire’s head from his body. What was left of the creature aged and then exploded into dust, to be scattered by the wind.

Angeline stood for a moment, shocked that it was over, and then collapsed, the world going black around her.

A
ngeline didn’t know
how long it had been since she’d last seen the sky, but when she opened her eyes again, there were three new sets of eyes looking down on her. Her vision swam for a moment, her body attempting to regain its balance, and she quickly turned away.

If she was about to be killed, she didn’t want to have to watch it.

But nothing happened, and after a moment she cautiously opened her eyes again, to see … a familiar cottage. A table and chairs carefully cut and shaped from strong, solid wood, and a fireplace beyond that. A fireplace she’d seen before. She squinted, trying to remember where she’d seen this place, and suddenly her memory came rushing back.

Piers. Geoffrey. She was in their cottage. Not dead. But …

“Safe?” she asked wonderingly.

Her eyes turned back to the people above her, and she realized that she was looking at friends: Piers, and Geoffrey, and Louis.

“You found me?” she asked.

Piers put a hand to her forehead, his own face creased with concern. “We did. We watched the fight and rushed out when we saw that … thing explode. But you’re badly wounded, and you must rest. I’m going to send Louis and Geoffrey for the healer. Angeline, you’re—”

But suddenly her memory came rushing back, and she slowly sat up, interrupting him with a hand gesture. “I don’t have time for the healer, Piers. Thank you for bringing me in, truly, but I must get to my own cottage. The girls … I must see the girls. I have important things to talk to them about.”

Yes, things to talk to them about. She’d been stalling for long enough, and now she knew for certain that Merlin was right. She had to name one of them the next Red Hood, and as quickly as possible. She’d been a fool not to do it long before, in fact. Though she was still strong and powerful, she was also mortal.

And very vulnerable.

Dying without naming an heir would be unacceptable. Unforgiveable. She needed to make a choice, no matter how painful, and allow nature to take its course. It was time for a new Red Hood. The only reason she was still alive was that the hood had accelerated her ability to heal. She couldn’t—she wouldn’t—take the chance again.

“Please, I must get home to my girls,” she said, putting a hand out to stall Piers’ protests. She slowly got to her feet and, though she swayed, managed to keep them and head toward the door. “I will be back as soon as I am able. For now, however, there is business to attend to.”

She cast a sudden, wary look at Piers and the boys. “You three must stay here. I’ve killed four vampires, but I don’t know how many more there might be, and I won’t have you putting yourselves in danger. Stay in the cottage, bar the door, and do not let anyone in until the sun begins to rise.”

Louis looked as though he might argue with her, but she put up a hand. “Please, Louis. Now is not the time for bravery or adventure seeking. Now is the time for responsibility and careful decisions.” She paused then smiled a bit. “Adela appreciates a man who knows such things. I would suggest that you begin to learn them.”

And with that final word, she turned and stepped out the door, drawing on the strength of the hood and marshaling her own resources.
It should be an easy walk back to her cottage
, she thought, but it was not short. She would need all the energy she could find within herself. Because she realized now what had been drawing her down, what the voice in her head had been telling her since she awoke.

She was alive. But she’d lost too much blood, and not even the hood could save her from that. She was dying. And she needed to get back to the cottage and name an heir before it happened.

She stumbled at the thought, too shocked to keep her feet. And suddenly a strong set of hands were at her arms, keeping her from falling. She looked up to see Louis staring down at her.

“You aren’t strong enough to make it home on your own,” he said gently. “Even I can see it. And the responsible thing to do right now—the right thing to do—is to see you home. Piers and Geoffrey will be safe enough here on their own. I’m going with you.”

Angeline nodded weakly. He was right; she’d never make it home on her own. All of the hood’s powers were focused on trying to heal her—it would be no help in a fight. And she was too weak to handle anything on her own. Even a small badger could harm her in this state. She needed help. Turning her face toward the path that led to her cottage, and her daughters, she began to stumble forward, Louis’s strength supporting her when she would have fallen.

W
hen the cottage
came into view, Angeline—now far weaker than she had been before—turned to Louis. “Leave me at the door, and get back to Piers and Geoffrey as quickly as you can,” she whispered. “Do not loiter; do not delay. You must get back to safety. Promise me, Louis.”

He nodded without answer, propped her against the frame of the door, and then turned and trotted out of the clearing. Angeline watched him go, surprised and pleased at his cooperation in this matter, and smiled gently to herself. He would make a good husband, and Adela would be lucky to have him. It made her feel somewhat better to know that at least one of her daughters would find a man strong enough to match her.

Alison, on the other hand … She put that thought out of her mind and turned toward the door.

“Who is it?” Adela called at the knock.

“It is your mother,” Angeline said softly, her strength nearly gone.

“Mother!” she heard Alison call. “Where have you been? Adela, let her in!”

“No,” Adela answered sharply. “Mother, what is your message?” she called out.

Angeline smiled again. Of course Adela would remember, when Alison would forget. “I am the Red Hood. I am the wolfsbane,” she called.

Adela opened the door from the other side, and Angeline stumbled in and fell to the floor. Alison ran to her, crying out that she had been frightened nearly to death at Angeline’s absence, and worried that her mother would never return.

“Why did you take so long?” the girl whined.

Instead of answering, Angeline turned to look at Adela, who was standing in the doorway, holding both girls’ daggers, and glaring out into the clearing as if she would kill anything that came for them now. Once her eyes had covered the entire clearing, she closed the door, barred it, and knelt down by her mother, her face filled with concern and anger.

“What happened?” she whispered, her hands running over Angeline’s wounds. “What did this to you? A sword? This is not an animal attack.”

At this, Alison became truly hysterical, shrieking at the amount of blood and drawing quickly back. Adela, on the other hand, rushed to find some rags and returned to press them against Angeline’s side. She ducked closer to Angeline, worried but also steady.

“What can I do, Mother? What do you need? You must tell me.”

“My bed,” Angeline whispered. “And for the sake of my life, tell your sister to be quiet. I must speak with both of you.”

“Alison, enough of your shrieking!” Adela snapped. “Mother requires our help. Shut your mouth, girl!”

Alison abruptly grew quiet, and Angeline could hear a wet sniffle in the darkness. Then the younger girl stepped forward, her face red and blotchy, and crouched down to slide her hands under her mother’s arms.

“To her bed,” Adela said quietly. “She needs rest.”

The two girls lifted Angeline as best they could and supported her as she staggered toward the bed. When she was finally laid out on the stack of furs, Adela rushed to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with more rags, hot water, and a few packets of herbs. She began to doctor the wound in Angeline’s side while Alison dropped into a chair, clutched Angeline’s hand, and began to sob again.

“Mother, you cannot die!” she cried. “You cannot leave us here alone! What will we do? How will we survive?”

“She won’t die,” Adela snapped. “Not while I still breathe.”

Angeline wheezed a gentle laugh and heard the hood echoing the sentiment. No, it did not want her to die, and she could feel it attempting to infuse its strength into her body. And perhaps it was right, she realized; perhaps she would recover. But her strength was gone. She would not fight werewolves or vampires again.

She looked at Adela, who bent over the wound with calm intensity, willing her mother to live. Then she glanced at Alison. The girl was fearful and self-centered, even in this moment, and suddenly Angeline wondered how she’d never seen it before. Alison could never be the Red Hood. She did not have the moral fiber for it.

Adela is the only choice,
she thought. Regardless of the outcome, regardless of the effect it would have on Alison, Adela was the only one who would do. The hood hummed against her in agreement, and she knew at that moment that the choice was made.

She just hoped she lived long enough to train the girl adequately, and see the hood successfully passed. Behind her, against the bed, the hood hummed again.

Yes
, she thought. She would live long enough to fulfill that mission. And Adela would have a long, successful reign as Red Hood. Angeline herself would see to it.