Authors: Editor
Lucian swung his head around to see where Phillip was, only to find him moving toward him with a gummy grin. Speaking before thinking, he lashed out, “
Hellooo!
Ever hear of dentures? Dr. Fonzi didn’t make porcelain teeth for his own good. Toothless ogres are about scary as toothless vampires.”
Phillip stopped and blankly stared at Lucian with his head cocked to the side. “Well then,” Phillip added, “Let’s see what we can do to remedy the situation.”
Phillip opened his mouth wide and to Lucian’s horror spiked grey teeth popped through his gums at different angles.
“Best be careful what ya wish for, Lord St. James.” Phillip finished with his all too feminine tone.
Serina knew from the events unfolding her time with Duncan would be precious little. After cauterizing his arteries and veins, to stop further blood loss, Serina inspected the broken bones. They appeared jagged and would require much more effort and time than what she now had. Bones, she knew from past experiences, were hard, tricky immobile objects, with tendons, ligaments and muscles attached that required two sets of hands to reset them correctly. She could start the repairs to save Duncan’s arm but if it weren’t set soon, he’d have permanent damage and that was the good news. If it wasn’t set in the next few days he wouldn’t have to worry about it at all. It’d be on the chopping block.
After securing that Duncan would not bleed to death, she glanced at him. His eyes were both bizarre and beautiful, she didn’t know which eye to focus on when she spoke to him.
He shyly winked. “I see you finally noticed me eyes.”
“Hard not to, Duncan. They’re exceptionally beautiful and very rare. It’s called heterochromia, if you wanted to know. Anyone else in the family have them?”
“Me grandmother and a cousin. I’ve never met me cousin, only heard of him. Lives in Brahmall with me Grandma. I feel better. I know me arm is still needing work to be done on it, but the pain is diminished,” Duncan whispered. “Thank you.”
About to interrupt their conversation, Jonah held his tongue and looked at Serina in a whole new light. His comments could come later.
Serina planted a quick kiss on Duncan’s cheek and abruptly backed away from him. A familiar, tainted feeling rolled over her and made her stomach knot.
Duncan’s mouth dropped. Serina’s green eyes were fading to black pools of hatred. “What is it, Doc?”
“I’ve company boys, most unwanted. I’ve got an ugly little incubus attempting a visit. What better timing?” she bit out heavy with sarcasm. Then she began to laugh to the point of hysterics.
Hello, Ducky. Playing without me? Awh, I feel so shunned.
Jasper’s voice inside her head was about as pleasant as being autopsied when you’re still quite alive.
“Lucian, help me,” Serina begged.
Lucian turned from Phillip and glanced into two black, empty eyes that didn’t belong on his beauty. Her teeth chattered as if she were freezing to death. Serina extend her hands to him, pleading for rescue.
Before he could catch her, Serina spiraled face first into the floor, and began to pound her head against the floor’s wooden planks. As she lifted her face her nose oozed blood, and shards of broken glass and splinters projected from her eyebrows and cheeks. Her lips were swollen and purple.
Lucian crossed the distance in the blink of an eye, and grabbed her. The assault had to end.
Duncan lent his one good arm to cradle her face from the floor each time she thrust her head down. His arm wouldn’t be the only thing she fixed...if she came out of this. His good hand was no longer good.
Serina didn’t want Jasper anywhere near her especially in her head. Her only idea was to knock herself out. The last time he got in her head she almost had sex with her brother-in-law. Goddess only knew what could happen this time—so many men in the room and one vulgar vamp. She wasn’t about to find out. At least Phillip wasn’t a viable candidate! Her optimism hit a plateau.
Chyna watched Serina knock herself senseless and more than amused, she was outright jovial. Chyna undulated her head a second time a quick one-eighty degrees. Finished, she placed her hands on each side of her head and with a slow methodical twist, tried to wrench it back into place, pushing up on one side, tapping down on the other side, tilting it forward just a bit, rocking her skull back and forth until it was level, and she had a straight view. When she could see straight she adjusted her tiara, making sure it was perfect, believing appearances were of the utmost importance.
Mesmerized, Lucian couldn’t tear his gaze away. This creature was not for the faint of heart.
Lucian!
Oops
.
Do something!
M’lady, how can I aid you?
Just as Lucian tried to reach her, Jasper locked down her mind tighter than a bank vault.
“She’s busy now, Lucian.”
Lucian heard the voice. Everyone heard the voice.
Hearing it, André visibly paled. “Not again,” he mumbled.
For the time being, Serina was the center of attention. Even Chyna’s interest piqued. “Jasper?”
It, the raspy male voice, sputtered from Serina’s lips as if she were trying to spit him out. “You look ravishing, Princess. Lovely to see you.”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Chyna wrinkled her nose towards Serina. “I thought you weren’t fond of being inside women, Jasper?” Chyna snickered alone.
“You are my one exception, my lady.”
“Enough!” Lucian yelled. His fangs exploded inside his mouth, and sliced the insides of his cheeks. He spat a large chunk of blood onto Chyna and then watched with disgust as she sucked it from her gown. The overwhelming urge to protect Serina from Jasper was foremost in his thoughts, but how with that bastard in her body?
“Phillip, get Lucian you moron. How many times do I have to tell you?” Chyna roared.
Phillip did a slow calculated turn of his head toward the ceiling. “What would you have me do, my princess?” Chyna pointed towards Serina. Phillip followed her finger.
Serina grunted with each move. Her eyelids now swollen, she struggled to see. Spanning the breadth of the room, and ready to report her findings to Jasper, her gaze fixed on the large blur she claimed as her husband.
“Oh, no!” It was all Lucian said.
Serina cocked her head to one side and lifting her hand to him, she shooed him off. Hurled him sideways into Chyna’s casket is what she did.
“You’re getting better at making me fly, luv, and look at that, no rhyming this time.” Lucian shook off the pain and stood.
In her own voice, Serina screamed, “Lucian, get away from me. He wants you dead.”
“So do I, dammit,” Chyna yelled. “Phillip, need I repeat myself? Get Lucian or you will pay dearly for your insubordination with me in these matters.”
“I have paid dearly. Repeatedly, Princess.” Phillip grabbed André and placed him in a strangle hold. Breathing hot and heavy into his ear just for the hell of it, he laughed when André’s body shuddered the way a dog does coming in from the rain. “Just give me a reason, lad. The quicker you are all disposed of, the quicker I can get the ’ell out of here.”
André dropped the cross bow.
Payton grabbed the weapon and took aim toward the two men. He swallowed a good chunk of fear and shouted, “Hey, Princess, call off the mastodon or I shoot.”
“Just shoot the damned thing, Payton,” André yelled back. “Don’t announce your intent. What happened to the element of surprise?”
Payton shrugged his shoulders. Having never shot a bow before Payton was confident he could indeed hit something as large as the one standing before him holding his friend prisoner. There was of course a slight concern for the welfare of André if he missed.
Looking down the long end of a silver-tipped arrow, André’s eyes grew wide. He wasted no time trying get out of the line of fire. He twisted and turned in Phillip’s clutch to no avail. The solid oaf had him pinned.
Chyna wailed, “I said Lucian not André you impotent fool.”
That high-pitched screech startled Payton, his finger twitched and the silver tipped arrow carved a path through André’s shoulder.
Lucian stepped toward André until he saw Payton reloading.
“Payton, no!” Lucian stated in a calm tone. Sure
as hell didn’t want to startle the man again.
For Payton, time stood still. He looked upon his wounded friend remorse-filled for what he’d just done to him, but he was now past the point of no return. He had to see this through. “Forgive me, André. Possibly want to back up, Lucian.” Payton swung the bow at the vampire hugging the ceiling.
“Try it, little man, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do,” Phillip mused.
Phillip tightened his grip on André, careful not to catch the edge of the arrow jutting out from his shoulder. Nor did he allow André movement to inspect the wound. He reached around the front of the spear and flicked the end of the arrow back and forth causing a shearing of more flesh. André never made a sound.
Not enjoying the display in the least, somewhere deep in her depraved mind, Chyna still loved André and seeing him in pain triggered some lost emotion to protect him.
“Phillip—hurt my child, and I’ll make what’s left of your sex life total misery.”
“It already is,” he squealed. “You’ve personally seen to that. I believe this is retribution, Princess!”
Payton pointed the bow directly at Chyna’s chest. “This nonsense can not continue, you broken tea cup. Your hold over this family ends today.” In a flash, he swung the bow around and fired it toward Phillip.
Lucian sprung through the air and slammed into Serina hurling the two of them onto the floor in front of Duncan and Jonah, just in case Payton’s aim had not improved.
Shock covered Phillip’s face when he realized he was the hit. He dropped André.
Chyna laughed, pointing to the arrow piercing Phillip.
Ducky, this car is too crowded. Let’s get a few people out of here, shall we?
“Lucian, get off me.” Serina spat at him. “He’s got me. Get away from me.” She struggled to free herself, except her demure frame didn’t stand a chance against her husband’s six-foot-four blanket of muscle.
Lucian pinned her to the floor, stretched her arms high over her head, leaving her to resemble a sacrificed goddess. His goddess and he’d be damned if anyone took her from him. Her small rib cage, her firm, full breasts waited for him like the gold ring on the merry-go-round to reach for, to covet. Oh how he wanted her, even here in the midst of all this chaos. Having no formal training on demons or exorcisms, he did the only thing he knew how. He bent to her mouth and fastened his lips over hers, taking command of her mind, her heart, and her soul as he whispered, over and over in her head,
You are my love and my life. Don’t leave me. Come back to me
.
Unable to withstand the overwhelming emotional bonds between husband and wife, Jasper cowered in retreat. He thought he was hot and bothered when he’d first encountered Serina’s wrath on the mountain. It was nothing compared to the two of them joining forces. For the first time in his lonely existence, he had a bittersweet taste on his lips, death.
Chapter Twenty
Olivia followed the trails of thick, black smoke back to the mausoleum in the oldest graveyard in White Chapel. Stupid ignoramus of a vampire might as well have left an ad in the Daily Tribune with a map to his little slice of Hell. The ground’s dewy cover would soon be burned off after the sun rose. Olivia bit her nails as she waited. Just a few more minutes and on old Jasper would be getting a little more rest than he planned. Clutching her satchel, Olivia pried open the heavy wooden door and placed a large brick in front to keep it open to allow the twilight in. The stagnant, musky air turned her stomach and made her eyes water. She fumbled her way to the large mahogany casket and placed her equipment beside her feet. Reaching inside another bag, she retrieved a jar of concentrated garlic juice mixed with blessed water and a blunt wooden stake. Olivia wanted Jasper to feel the full weight of her wrath. She took a deep breath knowing once the casket opened the fumes that poured out would be no match to her surroundings. She tapped on the box. “Knock, knock!”
With a slight delay and grumbling coming from under the lid, Jasper’s fingers edged their way out.
Jasper peeked out seeing a petite woman with auburn curls spilling down her back. “Olivia Spencer, the pleasure’s all mine.”
“You say that now.”
Jasper laughed.
“It weren’t meant in jest.” Olivia reached into her pocket.
Jasper went to move his hands in self-defense, but Olivia doused him with the juice. Between his screaming and sizzling Olivia went on a little rant of her own.
“I hear you met my daughter, you demoralized piece of rubbish.”
Frantic, Jasper wiped the liquid from his face and neck as he bellowed out threat after threat promising retribution. “You bitch…”
“Shut up, peon.” Olivia plunged the stake into and through Jasper’s chest, paralyzing him as he attempted to sit up. The last thing she needed to do was chop off his noggin. But that fate would be too swift, too merciful, and Olivia wasn’t in a forgiving mood today. No, Olivia decided to make him suffer.
“Jasper, you messed with the wrong witch.”
“I thought Serina called the Squad on you. I thought you…”
Olivia twisted the stake, and ground it farther into him. “Tip number one, save the thinking for someone who actually has a brain. Have you ever heard blood is thicker than water? She’s my child. I’ll do what I see fit for her and no one else. She almost got you. She may be more like her old mum than she realizes. See you in Hell, Jasper.”
“You can’t leave me like this, I’ll die.”
“You’re already dead, remember?” Olivia reached into a second bag and gingerly pulled out a black rose, its thorns numerous and sharp. “I do believe the prickers on the flower have yours beat.” She tucked it down the front of his trousers, slammed the lid shut, picked up her belongings and sealed the crypt. Closing her eyes she whispered, “’Tis the least I can do for you, little girl. I do love you. It’s all about consequences.” She evanesced with the blowing winds.
****
Lucian broke away from Serina and watched the earthly green of her eyes replace the bottomless black pits of Jasper’s. Duncan’s tap to Lucian’s back alerted them to turn toward Chyna, finally coming down from her high perch.
With casual ease, Chyna fluffed her orange cape into the air and pussyfooted on over to Phillip. Her grin held malignant intent. She flicked the end of the spear that had already collapsed one of Phillip’s lungs back and forth and watched Phillip twist and turn in agony as he tried to escape her taunts. “You’ve been most disingenuous to me today, Phillip. Maybe this shall help ease my saddened state from the harsh things you’ve accused me of. Then again, maybe not!”
He backpedaled. She followed. He took another step back. She another forward. Backed against the wall, he’d run out of options.
She’d simply run out of patience. Chyna viciously tugged to bring the arrow out through the same hole it entered.
Phillip’s effeminate cries bounced off the interior of the walls. The fool bit his bottom lip until it bled to replace one pain with another.
Chyna crooked her head sideways, and watched with deep enthusiasm as the ruby-red fluid flowed down his chin and dripped onto his shirt. She anticipated each drop, her head bobbing with each droplet that splattered and soaked in to his clothing. The blood distracted her with a deadly enthusiasm.
Without time to blink, her nostrils flared and her fangs filled her mouth. Flesh tore open around her lips as she stretched her jaw to accommodate Phillip’s tree trunk of a neck.
Before Phillip had time to react, she was on him, her stained, yellowed posts embedded and sucking him dry.
Fully aware if Chyna drained her body guard, he could come back with an even meaner disposition in life, Payton lunged forward, his silver blade extended. He plunged it deeply through Chyna’s left back, aiming for her heart. Through a bone-chilling cry, Chyna released Phillip and turned on Payton, her face a collage of mangled nightmares. Her attempts to get the knife from her back proved futile. Her arms were too short, the blade embedded just out reach, like that annoying little itch dead center in the back that’s never quite attainable. Her piteous wails clashed mercilessly with Phillip’s.
Looking at the arrow projecting from his shoulder, André quietly stated, “Stick to the knives, Payton. Those, you know how to handle.”
Payton gave him half a smirk.
When Phillip staggered toward Chyna, Lucian thrust a force field around his aunt. He watched Phillip pound the wall until his fists came away raw. Phillip picked up the arrow and tried to jab a hole in the barrier. After a display worthy of a warrior’s last stand, he dropped to his knees and sobbed.
The aversion playing out between the odd couple was more than Serina could take. She headed to Phillip, uncertain what she would do when she reached him, but something had to stop the grown man from crying inconsolably. Evil or not, the man mourned the loss of someone, even if he loathed her. Even if it made no sense. She knew many times the heart spoke love, the mind of hate and that people were driven insane by both. Here and now, she witnessed it first hand.
“Serina, no. Stop!” Lucian chased her across the car.
Phillip turned and wrapped his bloodied hands around her. He jerked her body from the floor and proceeded toward the hole in the train.
Lucian blocked Phillip before he knew what hit him. With one hand around Phillip’s neck, Lucian squeezed the two sides together until they met in the middle unyielding to him.
Phillip took one last shot at Lucian, with a knee to the groin, refusing defeat.
Lucian never flinched. He just wanted Phillip dead.
Duncan attempted to free Serina one-handed, and Jonah added his two pence and managed to vomit on Phillip’s feet. For the briefest flash, Duncan found his smile and directed it towards Jonah.
Lack of oxygen or not, Phillip’s grip on Serina was solid.
“Release my wife,” Lucian screamed inches from his face.
“Over my dead body,” the die-hard ogre choked.
“That’s a given,” Duncan hollered. Then he noticed the shillelagh stick. Duncan grabbed it and swung the wand hard across the back of Phillip’s Achilles heel. “Make him kneel and squeal. Seal his fate, turn him in to fish bait.” More pitiful wailing followed. Duncan knew the words were rolling off his lips, but he wasn’t in control of them. He glanced at Serina, her lips moving in a fevered state. He looked directly at her and said, “I will not ask how you managed that. Ever!”
André added his two pence, “You told me there was no such thing as magic wands, Serina.”
Busy trying to save herself, she didn’t respond.
With the train back to full speed, the rocking and swaying motion gave Lucian and Phillip a test of balance. Lucian had André for an anchor. Phillip had Serina and only one leg, thanks to Duncan’s precision placed blow with the shillelagh which severed Phillip’s tendons. Outside the train, the ground gave way to a large expansion bridge that spanned a dark murky river about fifty feet above the river. Winds whipped into the car from outside as a storm shifted in. Dangling and stuck, Serina took a moment to look around and regretted it. Peering out of the hole, she saw the swift moving current of the river below. That’s when she screamed, “Lucian...I don’t do water. Get the oaf off me. I’m not going in that muck. Now, m’lord!”
Swearing non-stop, with an arrow stuck through his shoulder, André had a painful reminder that he would have to teach Payton how to shoot a crossbow.
André reached for the crossbow, but caught sight of Chyna. He watched her trapped inside her glass prison that his brother some how concocted. She pleaded with him, her words landing on deaf ears, as he took aim with the bow and aimed the weapon on Phillip. His aunt’s face turned to stone as the arrow pierced Phillip’s back, a direct hit on his heart. André never lost sight of her dead black eyes as he delivered a fatal blow.
The arrow forged through the front of Phillip’s chest. Between Lucian’s chokehold and the arrow bulging from his heart, his number was up.
Lucian glanced down to the proximity of the tip of the arrow...A few more inches and André would have skewered two for the price of one. Lucian bent his head around Phillip and asked, “Explain this.”
André returned the look with a mocking, “What? I missed you. It’s more than Payton can say.”
Wilting fast, Phillip dropped Serina. With the knowledge he was indeed dying, Phillip decided he wasn’t going down alone. He bent over and grabbed Duncan’s long brown hair in one fist and Jonah’s dark brown curly hair in his other and leapt through the hole in the train dragging both men kicking and screaming over the side with him.
“Duncan! Jonah!” Lucian, André, Payton and Serina all screamed in unison, as they rushed to the opening.
Leaning dangerously outside of the train, and grabbing at air to attempt to bring the men back to her, Serina lost her balance and almost fell a second time.
Lucian yanked her back in, and wrapped her in the safety of his arms. Serina fought him, yelling, “Help Duncan and Jonah.” They looked out, seeing nothing but a fast flowing river beneath them.
With less than a split second to think of something Lucian surged forth every ounce of energy he owned in attempts to slow their descent, which almost dragged them from the train and hastened Duncan and Jonah’s fall. Backfired! Yes, there seemed to be a learning curve to his newfound power.
He created a reverse vacuum sucking out anything that wasn’t nailed down. All the suitcases, boxes filled with trinkets were lost to the river below. The carpets proved there was no magic in them as they tumbled through the air to a watery grave.
Payton clung to Lucian and Serina for dear life while André held the back of his pants to keep him from falling as well. The area where the arrow pierced him oozed the more André struggled to save his family.
Lucian changed his train of thought immediately to envision a leaf sifting down to the water and floating safely to the shore.
Serina read Lucian’s thoughts and added her own, sending a blistering heat to Phillip’s hands. He relinquished the death-grip on Duncan and Jonah. They watched as the men crawled from the river. Phillip never resurfaced.
Lucian shook Serina. “Never scare me as you have just done, ever again. My heart is too fragile where your wellbeing and life are concerned. I would not choose to live without you. I would have no choice but to join you somewhere in the heavens, because I will not live with out you, Serina.” Lucian secured his grip on her.
Her temper one degree hotter she yelled, “We have to stop the train, Lucian. We have to go get Duncan and Jonah. And you bugger—don’t you dare reprimand me. Lucian, you almost tossed us off the train as well!” Serina pointed her finger at him. Her favorite emotion had resurfaced, panic. How could they have lost Duncan and Jonah? She was so upset there was no thinking straight. She headed out the door of the car but stopped in her tracks and looked at Chyna. Really studied her. Lucian threw his arm around Serina and André and Payton joined her.
Trapped inside an invisible prism, Chyna resembled a wild, exotic animal. She pounded on the barriers until blood covered her knuckles. Then she stopped, sniffed her hands and licked them clean.
“Someone should put her out of her misery.” Didn’t matter who said it, because they all thought it.
“You’ll see the sunrise alone, Chyna.” Serina said before she turned to leave.
Lucian grabbed Serina’s wrist. “We will not stop the train again. Duncan and Jonah will be fine as long as they don’t kill each other. The poor people aboard this train have already endured much too much from this trip. I can only imagine the looks we will encounter when we exit this car.” Lucian looked at André and Payton, and started to laugh because at this point, if he didn’t laugh he was going to cry.
Serina turned to face the others. “André, let’s get the arrow out. Sit.” Serina squeezed Lucian’s hand. “I need you to remove the arrow, and I’ll go inside and make certain the lung is fine.”
Concern etched into every line of his face. Never mind having an arrow ripped out from his body—going in was bad enough—but André wondered more what it would feel like having another person inside him. Crowded came to mind, especially after witnessing Serina with Jasper. The whole body/mind snatching escapade left a bitter taste in his mouth.