Read Hope Everlastin' Book 4 Online

Authors: Mickee Madden

Tags: #scotland romance ghosts fairies supernatural paranormal

Hope Everlastin' Book 4 (30 page)

Again he stepped on the
first stair. This time, he detected an external sound.

Distant.

Muffled.

His gaze crept to the
midway landing. He told himself the sound could be coming from the
second or third floor but a niggling suspicion suggested
otherwise.

To satisfy the sense of
dread yawning through him, he opened the parlor door and peered in.
Nothing. Next he checked the bar. Nothing. He was standing in the
hall near the balustrade when he looked at the cellar door. A chill
gripped him. The dread transformed into something so dark and vile
that his vision blurred. However, his hearing sharpened at the same
time. Now he heard the distinct sounds of someone moaning and
someone weeping.

The instant he opened the
door, a gust of psychic waves rolled over him. He descended the
stairs in the dark. When he reached the bottom the door slammed,
and he heard the exterior bolt grind into place.

He didn't have time to
panic, for Kahl wailed, "Lannie! The boogeyman got us!"

A groan followed, then a
grunted, "Damn me, it hurts."

Lachlan's feet soon found
Roan's legs. Going down on his knees and groping in the darkness,
he discovered Roan was slumped against the stair rail. Close by,
Alby was sobbing. Kahl and Kevin inched closer to
Lachlan.

"Roan, wha' the hell
happened?"

"A mon came at me wi' a
knife. Got me twice. Shoulder and ma chest, I think."

"Have you lost a lot o'
blood?"

"Dinna think so," Roan
murmured. "Lightheaded, though."

"There's a lantern and
matches by the Scotch cellar," said Lachlan, easing onto his feet.
"I'll be right back."

"Watch yer step. I canna
even see ma hand in front o' ma face down here."

"Roan, ma lad, I could find
ma way around this place in ma slee— Och! Fegs! Bloody hell, wha'
do I need wi'
two
shins, anyway?"

Roan's attempt to laugh
resulted in a coughing fit, which only aggravated his
wounds.

Shortly, Lachlan had the
lantern lit and returned to Roan's side, where he placed it on the
floor. He spied Alby cowering beneath the stairs, wretched sobs
quaking through him. Going down on one knee, Lachlan held out his
arms.

"Come here, lad. Come to
Lannie."

Alby closed his eyes and
sobbed harder. Finagling as best he could beneath the cramped
space, Lachlan managed to pull the boy toward him until he was able
to cradle him in his arms. Alby hid his face against Lachlan's
chest and held on for dear life.

"I need to check yer
uncle's wounds, Alby," said Lachlan softly. "Tis a lot to ask, I
know, but can you help me?"

The boy's head lifted
fractionally. "How can I help?"

"Do you think you can hold
his shirt open for me? Dinna look at the wounds, though. No' a
pretty sight if two o' us are left to toss up our
innards."

A hoarse chuckle escaped
Alby. He fully lifted his head and peered into Lachlan's eyes. The
boy's face was swollen and blotchy.

"God," Lachlan breathed and
swallowed past the tightness in his throat. "Alby, you have ma
word, whoever did this to you will pay dearly."

"He put his smelly hand on
my face and dragged me down here," Alby whimpered.

"He did the same to Kahl
and me," said Kevin.

Lachlan regarded the oldest
boy. Although he knew Kevin was as frightened as his brother, his
eight-year-old face held the anger of an adult.

"He said he was gonna kill
us if we went up the stairs," Kevin continued, his voice
surprisingly level considering the circumstances. "He locked us
down here, but he undid it a little while ago until you came
down."

"He has us trapped down
here," Roan said sickly. He attempted to sit up then slumped back
against the railing. "He's efter the women, Lannie. We have to get
ou' o' here."

"Hold on a
minute."

Lachlan ran to the Scotch
cellar. He returned moments later with a bottle and a
cork.

"Take a swig o' this," said
Lachlan, passing the opened bottle of whisky to Roan.

Without hesitation, Roan
took three hefty gulps, shuddered, then downed two more and
grimaced as they hit bottom. Lachlan took the bottle and sent Alby
a visual gesture to do his part. The older boys stood aside and
allowed Alby to unbutton Roan's shirt. Following Lachlan's
instructions, he was careful not to look at the wounds as he parted
the material. He turned his back to Roan and calmly waited for
Lachlan to proceed.

"You've lost a fair measure
o' blood," Lachlan said. "Close yer eyes."

"Why?"

"Just do as I say. I need
to check the wounds mair closely, but I canna concentrate if I have
to see the sufferin’ in yer eyes."

Believing Lachlan, Roan
complied. He released a howl of pain and surprise when Lachlan
poured some of the Scotch on the wounds.

"Are you daft!" Roan
shrieked, blinking rapidly, his face as pale as a sun-bleached
skull. "You lied to me!"

"Aye. Now listen to me,
Roan. There's anither way ou' o' here through the north cellar. If
I get you on yer feet, do you think you can walk?"

Roan held out his hand for
the whisky. Lachlan reluctantly passed it to him. Roan downed
several gulps, gasped, burped then placed the bottle on the ground
next to him.

"Damn me, I'll walk or
crawl. Wha’ever it takes."

"Concentrate on the women,"
said Lachlan, positioning himself behind Roan as he leaned forward.
He hooked his hands beneath Roan's armpits. "Ready?"

"Aye."

One try brought Roan to his
feet, but he swayed, and would have keeled over if not for Lachlan
holding him up.

"Kevin, ye're in charge o'
the lantern," said Lachlan.

"I want to carry it,"
insisted Kahl.

"I need you and Alby to
walk behind me."

"Why?"

"Ta guard the rear in case
yer boogeymon tries to sneak up on us," said Lachlan.

To his relief, the boys
obeyed without further question.

Midway to the furthest end
of the basement, Roan managed to hold his own walking. His steps
were slow but steady. He kept himself focused on the women, not the
pain radiating through his upper torso.

"Who is he?" he asked
Lachlan.

"I suspect he's Winston's
Phantom."

"He's the boogeyman," Kevin
insisted.

"No, he's just an evil
mon," Lachlan said. 'Roan, I'm goin’ ahead a bit. The door's flush
wi' the wall to conceal it."

"Wha' if tha's locked,
too?"

"Hopefully he doesna know
it exists. I designed the sections o’ the cellars to look as though
they're sealed off from one anither."

“I'm all right. Go
ahead."

"Kevin, remain in front o'
Roan. I dinna need the light to find ma way."

"Tell tha' to yer shin,"
Roan quipped.

Lachlan spared him a wry
grin then disappeared into the darkness beyond the glow of the
lantern.

"Uncle Roan?"

"Wha', Alby?"

"You ain’t gonna die, are
you?"

A choked laugh burst from
Roan's dry throat. "No' intentionally. Besides, I'm too mean to die
young."

"You're not mean," Alby
murmured with a whimper.

"Uncle Roan?"

"Aye, Kahl?"

"We love you."

A moment of profound
silence followed, then Kahl added, "I know we give you a hard time,
but it's 'cause we know we can and you won't hate us."

His eyes misting, Roan
nodded. "Weel, laddies, I've got plans to see you tortured by yer
own children one day. Do you think I would miss ou' on
tha'?"

Alby and Kahl exchanged a
quick grin.

"Retrabition," said
Kevin.

"Retribution," corrected
Roan with a chuckle.

"That, too," said Kevin,
then asked over his shoulder, "The boogeyman won't really hurt Aunt
Laura, Beth, and Taryn, will he?"

"They'll hold their own.
They have to. The plan, laddies, is to time the rescue so we come
ou' the heroes."

"I like that plan," said
Kevin. "When we catch the Phantom, can I bite him good for scaring
us?"

Roan smiled through a
grimace. "I dinna think so, Kevin."

"Why not? I can bite real
hard."

"Aye, I know. Remember when
I tried to pull you ou' o' yer aunt's car when it hit the
oak?"

"That was a long time
ago."

"Seems so, aye. But, Kevin,
if you bite this Phantom, you could get sick."

"How?"

"Och, tis a lie. You willna
get sick, but I'm worried he'll bite you back, okay?"

Kevin thought this over
then nodded. "Okay. I'll just kick him in the nuts,
instead."

"Me, too!" said
Kahl.

Alby remained silent as he
repeatedly looked over his shoulder to make sure the boogeyman
wasn't following them.

"Okay, Uncle Roan?" asked
Kevin.

Roan grimaced in pain and
exasperation. "Stay away from him."

"He can't scare us!" said
Kevin.

"Yeah," said
Kahl.

From up ahead, they heard
hinges screaking.

Lachlan called, "Tis
opened!"

The lantern's radiance
crept up Lachlan's tall frame as they closed the distance and Kevin
held up the lantern as far as his small arm would permit. As they
approached the doorway Roan couldn't help but admire the boys'
courage. They were terrified of what awaited them, and he couldn't
have faulted them if they resorted to hysterics, but they wouldn't.
They were little men who were determined to see the boogeyman
stopped from hurting anyone else.

"God, the smell!" Roan
choked.

"Aye. Somethin’s afoul down
here."

Lachlan gestured them over
the threshold, then followed and closed the door behind him. He
took the lantern from Kevin and led the way toward the steps of the
bulkhead. They hadn't gone but ten yards when Kahl released a
squeal and pointed to another door. It was closed, but a black pool
was visible beneath the door spacing.

"Stay back, laddies,"
Lachlan warned.

Roan remained with them. He
was lightheaded again, and the stench was so overpowering, he found
it impossible to breathe.

Lachlan knelt by the pool.
"Looks and feels like blood." He stood, opened the door, and held
out the lantern to see into the room. He jerked back and shut the
door, a hand clamped over his mouth for several seconds
longer.

"Wha' is it?" asked
Roan.

"From Laura and Taryn's
descriptions, tis Stephan Miles. He's dead."

Roan teetered on his
feet.

"And by the looks o' it in
there," Lachlan said grimly, "our boogeymon has been makin’ himself
at home for some time."

"I don't feel so goo—"
Kevin bent over as his stomach ejected its contents.

"Lannie, we've got to get
ou' o' here."

Lachlan ran to and up the
steps to the bulkhead and pushed open one side of the doors. He had
never puts locks on them. With this part of the cellar used for
storing junk, it hadn't been necessary.

"Come along," he urged from
the bottom of the steps, where he remained until everyone else had
gone into the night. By the time he joined them his own stomach was
churning, and his eyes were watering from the fumes of
decay.

He knelt in front of the
boys. "Go to the carriage house and wait till you hear from
us."

"We wanna help," Kevin
insisted.

"Listen..." Lachlan paused
to draw in a deep breath of fresh, cool air. "...ye're brave lads,
but I canna be worryin’ if tha' sick bastard can get his hands on
you again."

"But—"

Lachlan framed Kahl's face
and planted a kiss on his brow. "Now listen to me, Kahl. Go to the
carriage house. Tell Reith we need his help, but dinna leave tha'
buildin’. Understand?"

"What about the boogeyman's
nuts?"

"Kahl, we'll discuss tha'
later. Right now I need yer promise you'll no' leave the carriage
house, no matter wha' happens."

"Okay," said Kevin, his
chin quivering. "I'll make sure we stay out of the way."

"In the carriage
house!"

"Okay! Geez!"

"Take the lantern, and be
careful no' to place it near anything inflammable. Now
scat."

While the boys ran in the
direction of the carriage house, Lachlan led Roan to the kitchen
door. It was locked.

Roan sat on the stoop and
lowered his head.

"How are you farin’?"
Lachlan asked him, peeling out of his shirt.

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