Chapter 28
Whyborne
“But what does any of this have to do with the dead getting up and trying to kill us?” Hattie asked some hours later.
We sat in Miss Lester’s freezing parlor, coffee steaming in our hands. Iskander and Hattie had arrived together, and our greeting was nearly as cool as the air inside the Lester mansion.
I suspected Rupert had ordered her to accompany me tonight because I’d be helpless against her witch hunter’s daggers. Ostensibly we were on the same side, but I had no doubt the Endicotts had drawn some line in their minds. Should I step over it, they’d judge our temporary alliance not worth the risk they believed I posed. And Hattie would surely take on the role of executioner.
Iskander’s presence was less reassuring than it should have been. Not to suggest I didn’t trust him—of course I did. But I wished I knew what Hattie had said to him, away from the rest of us. After all, Theo and Fiona had been damned persuasive, when they’d had me alone with no one to provide a counter to their words.
“If the old families have created an arcane bond with the maelstrom through their blood, that link could be twisted and used for necromancy,” I said, careful to watch my words. I didn’t wish the Endicotts to know the maelstrom had any sort of sentience. If they knew it could want things...
I wasn’t certain what they would do. Probably nothing direct, against something so vast. But those it collected to work its will were far more vulnerable. Most likely, they’d renew their attempts to wipe Widdershins off the map.
Iskander wouldn’t have let such a secret slip, would he?
Miss Lester’s lip curled. “Outsiders, coming here and turning our own power against us. They will regret it...briefly.”
“Er, yes,” I said. “It’s well after sundown, which means the hematophage may be making its way to us at any time. We should ready ourselves.”
“Indeed.” Miss Lester rose to her feet in a single, smooth motion. In her stark white dress, she looked almost like a statue come to life. “My assistants and I will keep watch within the house. Dr. Whyborne, if you and your associates would care to patrol outside, I would be grateful.”
“If we can stop this thing before it gets inside, so much the better,” I agreed. Assuming it wasn’t making for Whyborne House and my father. And Griffin.
I did my best to set aside my concern for him. Persephone and Christine would both be there. And Rupert, of course. Probably Griffin had less to worry about than I did.
Once we were outside the old mansion, Hattie shivered dramatically. “Lord, Iskander, I can’t believe you let that thing wander free. Your mum would’ve taken care of it the moment she stepped off the boat. Not had a bloody tea party with it.”
Iskander cast her a startled look. “Do you mean Miss Lester? She is...odd, yes. But hardly dangerous.”
“If she’s all the way human, I’ll eat your shoes.” Hattie hastened her pace, until she walked beside me across the yard. “What is she, then?”
“None of your business,” I snapped.
“Not a ketoi. Nor a hag.” Her eyes went to the mortuary next door, and she came to a sudden stop. “Bugger me sideways. She’s got ghūl blood in her.”
Blast it. “Of course not,” I said, but it was too late. I might have fooled Hattie, but Iskander knew me too well by now.
His eyes widened. “They’re...and they handle the dead of the town.” A look of utter revulsion crossed over his face. “How could you never have told me? Does Christine know?”
“It slipped my mind until recently.” Since when was it my responsibility to answer for every oddity in Widdershins? “And I don’t see why it would matter.”
“Of course it matters!” His jaw clenched, and his dark eyes sparked with fury. “This is my heritage.”
“Miss Lester is one of our only allies at the moment,” I reminded him sharply. “And as I recall, your family in Egypt weren’t indiscriminate killers like the Endicotts.”
“Oi!” Hattie exclaimed.
“My family aren’t murderers,” Iskander said. “But they don’t hesitate to put down monsters.”
“Then you should never have come to Widdershins.” I flung my arms out to either side. “We’re all monsters here.”
“Er, Dr. Whyborne?” Miss Parkhurst asked tentatively. “Is this a bad time?”
She stood beneath the nearest street light, peering at us. She wore a sensible dress and carried a small purse, which she clutched nervously in both hands.
“Miss Parkhurst?” I said blankly. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to help. If I can.” She bit her lip. “Persephone said I could go with her, to Whyborne House, but...I thought perhaps you might need assistance.”
More likely, she felt uncomfortable at the idea of spending the evening with my father. Especially if Persephone had told her that Father knew about their relationship. Whatever the reason, I was glad for the distraction from the argument with Iskander. “I understand.” I hesitated. “But perhaps it would be better if you retreated somewhere...safer?”
“I’m certain I can be of help,” she protested. “I’m not sure how, exactly, but you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way.”
“Erm...” I scrambled to think of some way to decline and still spare her feelings.
Hattie gave Miss Parkhurst a hard look. “She’s your secretary, ain’t she? Send her off. She’s just going to get herself killed, or one of us killed looking after her.”
I stiffened. “Miss Parkhurst is quite competent, I assure you.”
Hattie rolled her eyes. “Then you keep an eye on her. Iskander and I will stand watch here in front. You head to the back, and take your secretary with you.”
“I certainly will,” I said with a huff. “Come along, Miss Parkhurst.”
I marched toward the rear of the mansion. Miss Parkhurst’s skirts swished in the dead grass as she hastened to keep up with me. Lights showed from within, but I’d not thought to bring a lantern with me. As a result, I tripped over the low line of bricks demarcating a garden behind the kitchen.
“Ow.” I rubbed my ankle and glared at the back of the house. Originally built in colonial times, it had been added onto more than once over the years. It sprawled across the lot, though from what I’d seen inside, most of the rooms appeared unused. The Lester family had dwindled through the generations as well, it seemed.
“We should find a place to conceal ourselves,” I said. A low hedge bordered the property, so I led the way to it. If we stood close enough to its dark bulk, hopefully we wouldn’t be spotted.
“I brought binoculars,” Miss Parkhurst said in a hushed voice. She took them from her purse.
“Good thinking,” I whispered back.
“Thank you.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “What are we looking for, exactly?”
“Any sign of someone, or something, trying to gain entry into the house,” I said. “We don’t really know much about the hematophage, or how it travels.” Other than it managed to gain access to its victims when they were alone, without being spotted by the rest of the house. “That’s why we made certain Miss Lester is entirely surrounded by defenders. Even if we don’t spot it out here, it won’t be able to reach her unseen.”
Miss Parkhurst pointed her binoculars at the house. I stared at the surrounding yard, as the cold slowly seeped into my bones. At least if I’d gone to Whyborne House, I would have been out of this accursed wind.
How was Griffin faring? Was he having a quiet night, or had he come under attack?
As if she’d read my thoughts, Miss Parkhurst abruptly said, “Mr. Flaherty has always been very kind to me.”
I blinked at the non-sequitur. “Well...yes. That is, I should think so. He’s very...kind.” My face heated in the darkness.
She didn’t lower the binoculars. “I always thought...that is, I was always touched by what good...friends you are.”
Oh dear lord, where was the blasted hematophage? Couldn’t it attack and put an end to this conversation? “Yes,” I agreed. “He’s very...friendly.”
“And handsome,” she added. Perhaps she was like Griffin, and inclined to an interest in more than one gender. “I always thought so.”
Thank heavens, there came a faint rustle from our left. Possibly nothing more than a stray cat, but I was desperate for an excuse. “Stay here,” I whispered to Miss Parkhurst.
I crept in the direction of the sound as quietly as possible. Holding my breath, I stepped around the end of the hedge.
And found myself staring down the barrel of a rather outsized gun.
“Well, well,” Police Chief Early said with a satisfied smirk. “It looks like I’ve caught you in the act this time.”
~ * ~
“Hands in the air, where I can see them,” Early ordered. “And don’t try to escape. Where’s the rest of your gang?”
I lifted my hands, struggling not to clench them into fists. Damn the man! A dozen scenarios ran through my mind. I could lay frost on the gun and cause him to drop it. Try to summon wind before he realized what I was about.
Set fire to the powder in the bullets.
I took a deep breath, striving for calm. The Endicotts would strike him down without hesitation, as would my father.
But I wasn’t them. Perhaps he would listen to reason, all prior evidence to the contrary. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You didn’t come here alone.” An ugly grin stretched his face. “I’ve had an officer following you since you left your father’s house. You met some woman dressed as a man, and that Arab half breed. It will be interesting to hear what they have to say under interrogation.” He took out a pair of cuffs. “Put out your hands. I’ve officers on the way, but I wanted to make this arrest myself. Imagine the headlines: Heroic Police Chief Nabs Murderous Millionaire.”
“I’m not a million—curse it, never mind.” I might show restraint, but I couldn’t imagine Hattie would do so. “Listen to me. You’re putting yourself in danger...”
My words died away as a dark shadow cut across the sky.
For a horrible instant, I thought it was a daemon of the night—an enslaved umbrae, sent to kill us. Then I saw the wings—great, bat-like things that made no sound as they flapped.
It headed directly toward the Lester mansion.
“There—” I exclaimed, pointing at the creature.
Agony burst through my head as Early whipped the butt of his gun across the side of my skull. I staggered, dazed, and found myself on my knees looking up at him.
He stared down at me, not at the silent creature that had landed like a ghost atop the roof. Dear heavens, what was it? It couldn’t possibly be the hematophage, if only because it was the size of a carriage, from the barbed tail that lashed and curled restlessly, to its tooth-filled maw. It would never have fit inside Abbott’s tiny room. Even from a distance, its skin appeared splotchy with disease or rot. The edges of its wings were ragged, as if eaten away.
A cloaked figure rode on its back.
“You must think I’m stupid,” Early said, utterly oblivious to the monstrous thing above us. “Any more pathetic tricks like that, and you’ll have more than a few bruises by the time we get back to the station.” He firmed his grip on the gun. “You’ll stand trial just as easily with a bullet in your leg.”
A woman’s shrill scream broke the air.
Miss Parkhurst ran up, wailing and sobbing at the top of her lungs. “Thank heavens!” she cried, and hurled herself on Early. Her arms locked around his neck, and she pressed against his chest. “Oh please, officer, you have to save me!”
He was clearly torn between keeping the gun aimed at me and comforting a hysterical woman. “You’re safe now, miss,” he began.
Miss Parkhurst brought up her knee in a vicious strike. Early’s face turned red and twisted into a mix of agony and surprise. He crumpled to the ground, gun falling from his hand as he instinctively clutched at the anatomy she’d just crushed with her knee.
She snatched up the gun in a shaking hand and pointed it at Early. “Are you all right, Dr. Whyborne?”
“Yes. That was quick thinking,” I added, as I climbed to my feet. My head ached, and the world spun for a moment, before settling.
Early’s face was red, either with pain or rage, or both. “Give me the gun, or so help me, I’ll...”
I never learned what he would have threatened, because his gaze went past us, to the roof of the house. All the color drained from his cheeks. “God in heaven,” he whispered, eyes bulging. “It isn’t real. It can’t be real. I was knocked on the head...please...don’t let it be real...”
“We have to warn the others,” I said to Miss Parkhurst. The thing still perched on the roof like a gargoyle come to life and grown monstrously large.
But of the cloaked figure, there was now no sign. And the attic window stood open.
The attic, where Mr. Lester lurked in his wheelchair.
“Miss Lester isn’t the head of the household,” I said aloud. “Not for magical purposes, anyway. It’s come for her grandfather.”
The sound of screams erupted from the ground floor of the house.