ON DEVIL'S BRAE (A Psychological Suspense Thriller) (Dark Minds Mystery Suspense) (31 page)

“No,” she cried, her teeth chattering against the nip of brandy he had given her. “We said we’d stick together.” Her eyes kept returning to the hideous outline lying under a sheet on the floor. “I don’t want either of us to end up like poor Julian.”

“That was before. Listen…everyone in Inverdarroch is in danger, and we
all
need to band together, not just us. This last atrocity is the final straw. I know he wants to separate you and me, but it’s the only way.”

She whimpered and shivered.

“We can’t know how long we’re going to be cut off before help arrives. And have you thought of this…has he attacked anyone else during the night? Who else might be dead? This thing is hardly human.”

Cassandra swallowed hard. “So what do you think we should do?”

Angus took the empty glass from her hand and placed it on the hearth. “Get to safety, and that will be with others. We’ve also got to warn everybody—Fiona and Donald, the Blackmores, and the Campbells. I’ll create a diversion from upstairs, and you get the hell out of here. I’ll use your bedroom. Push your bed against the door if necessary so he can’t get in to me while you escape from the front. I’m sure I can hold him off while you get the Campbells moving with their tractor. They can use it as a snowplough to the main road. You’re bound to get help from there.”

She turned his words over in her head, hating the way she felt, and knowing that to separate now would be wrong. It was
her
the devil was after. She knew Angus had made up his mind, but she had to persuade him otherwise. If he stayed, it would mean certain death for at least one of them; at least making a run for it gave them both a chance. His words were imprinted in her brain, and Cassandra tried to stop her hands from shaking. She gave herself a stiff talking-to, saying it would be all right. They would outrun him, get to safety, and raise the alarm. The brothers were sure to have firearms, and together they would form a united band.

Cassandra moved closer to Angus and drawing his head down, gently kissed him. The gesture was so natural, so affectionate, and yet so outlandish in their hellhole. As they stared into each other’s eyes, it seemed to bring with it all the tenderness and security they desired. Was this the end? No!
Very soon this will be our beginning
, she thought. “I’m not leaving you here alone. We go together, and I don’t care what you say, I’m not budging without you.” He hesitated, and she saw how set his mouth was when he nodded.

Armed with knives and the poker, they stepped outside, and the storm embraced them in a spinning haze of white sound. There was a moment’s panic, when Cassandra’s steps faltered and allowed her black thoughts to dwell on her horrific enemy somewhere out there. She recalled his repulsive eyes and nose pressed against the window and what he had done to Julian. She shuddered and deliberately shut out the pain. Angus was counting on her to be brave. Their needs and the needs of the living came first.

Cassandra felt her feet sink into the soft snow, and her uncovered face took the force of the wind as it tore down from the Devil’s Brae. It was still dark, but some people would be stirring, getting up, and going about their mundane day-to-day things. Except, that day would be no ordinary day when she and Angus unleashed their hell onto the village inhabitants.

In silence, they walked side by side.

***

Cassandra couldn’t see any lights, no welcoming beacons beckoning to her through the murk. But she trudged on, careful where she placed her feet, feeling stronger with every footstep which took her away from her despoiled cottage and towards help. Despite the reassurance of
Angus at her side, Cassandra’s heart hammered inside her chest. It was tough-going, the path wound up a slope, and she hardly knew where the road began once she left her land. She felt as if she was blinded by the whiteness all around. She paused to gather her wits, collect her breath and fingered the comforting outline of the knife she had transferred from her belt to her coat pocket and continued. After a minute, her ears caught the faint sound of Angus calling from somewhere behind.

Behind? Horrified, she turned and despite the gloom, instinctively knew the figure now walking beside her wasn’t Angus. For every step she had taken,
he
had been lurking by her side. Dear God. Please tell me it is not
him
. But hadn’t he always been with her? From the very last time, she had seen him, when he left home and Mother and Father refused to listen?

His dark clothes were speckled with snow, from his wide-brimmed hat down to his woollen trousers. Cassandra stopped and turned to face him because it seemed the right thing to do. She had danced a macabre dance with the devil ever since arriving in Inverdarroch, and in all that time she had never truly seen his face. Was he as hideous as she imagined? She drew in a quivering breath, and lifting her head stared at her nightmare. He was as tall as she remembered: broad-shouldered and definitely male. His eyes were hidden beneath his hat, mouth and nose covered by a black tartan scarf. She could see no flesh except around his cheeks, and it looked ghostly pale in the thin grey light. His trousers were wool, tucked into fur-lined boots. With a start, she saw the sword hanging loosely in his right hand, the tip resting in the snow. She stared at the leather gloves he wore and thought they looked huge.

He was everything she feared and more. He had
known
she and Angus would leave the cottage, and somehow they had failed to keep together. Had he attacked Angus before trailing at her side? Was that the sound she had heard: Angus crying out in pain? There was no further sight or sound from him.

How long had the devil been waiting, standing there in the dark, watching them leave the cottage and walk by her side? She bit back the scream which threatened and slowly backed away. She somehow knew not to antagonise him by running, not yet anyway.

Cassandra’s brain felt numb. After finally coming face to face with her nemesis, she thought it astonishing there was no more fear than before. After all, what could be horrific than what she had witnessed in the cave and cottage?

“Who are you? What do you want with me?” she asked in a controlled and calm voice.

He raised his head at her words, and she caught a flash of his eyes, beneath the hat rim. “What do you want? Tell me. Do you want me to leave here?” Cassandra knew she must keep calm, not show her panic and above all not slip over in the snow. She hadn’t forgotten the man standing before her was completely insane, a psychopath. He had spent at least forty-eight hours on the rampage and was as deadly as a king cobra. She guessed any sudden movement would trigger him off.

Despite being debilitated by cold and terror, she kept hold of her courage and took another step backwards. The snow moved beneath her boot and she wobbled. He planted his feet
together and took one step towards her. Cassandra was shocked but stayed completely still, except for slowly moving her hand towards the knife in her pocket. Could she reach it in time before he jumped her?

She tried talking to him again, praying Angus wasn’t injured and would look for her. A chill went through her.
As long as the monster hadn’t already killed him!

“I’ve seen you on the mountain. Why were you watching me?”

She wondered if the maniac could hear her above the wind, and even more to the point, would anyone hear her if she screamed? What should she do? He was taller and stronger than she; his long legs would eat up the ground faster than she could run. Could she lure him somewhere? The Campbells—if they were about.

They stared at each other, and Cassandra recognised there was nothing remotely human in his gaze. He wouldn’t hear her pathetic cries for mercy, even if he did comprehend her fear. She was reminded of a cruel animal. Of a cat playing with a mouse before it took off its head…like before…

She hadn’t a clue what to do. She couldn’t move for fear of falling, and if she did, he would be down on her with his sword in a trice. She felt sweat soak her body as she made a tiny movement. At first, the monster remained standing where he was as if thinking. Then he raised a boot to the same side she had moved and she watched in trepidation as his sword hand followed through. Dear God. How could she get away?
Please someone help me.

“Please let me pass. I swear I don’t know who you are, and if you let me pass, I’ll go away. I promise. And I’ll never speak of this to anyone.”

She made a quick decision to run. She was poised to make a dash for it, when without warning, he raised his sword and lunged towards her. Cassandra stepped back and slipped, sprawling beneath a sodden mass of heaving wool and icy snow. She screamed and struggled to get free, fighting for air and her knife, buried deep within her coat pocket. As she struggled, she realised he must have slipped too, because she felt no pain, no slice from the sword, and she scrabbled in desperation to free her hands and aim her nails at his eyes or her knee to his groin.

Beneath him, Cassandra felt she was slowly suffocating from his weight and the snow which filled her mouth. She was aware of a metallic smell, emanating from his coat and images of Julian and his spilt blood flashed through her mind. He rolled away from her, and she caught a glint from his sword, as she thrust her hand deep into her pocket. She was aware that he had staggered to his feet, and she took the chance to thrust upwards, only to meet the hemline of his jacket. Cassandra let out a shriek—partly out of fear, partly out of rage, that she had missed—and in terror she watched as he regained his balance and raised his sword with both hands above his head.

Cassandra had yet to see his face, but she knew who he was. She remembered from before. Helpless with fear, she shrunk back into the dirty trodden snow, fearing it was to be her coffin, while she waited for the blade’s descent. She heard the whistle of the wind as the killing edge hurtled towards her, and in astonishment she watched open-mouthed as he checked and slumped forward. Cassandra felt the sword as it sliced against her cheek, a line of crimson flame from chin to brow.

Cassandra whimpered once beneath the monster, and then lay silently beneath him, hardly daring to breathe. What had happened?

Suddenly there was another figure beside her, babbling and exclaiming as he pulled the fallen man from her and cradled her in his arms.

“It’s all right, mo guradh milis, you’re safe now.”

Chapter 36 The Present

Cassandra had never felt as drained as when Angus gathered her up against his chest. Her left cheek was throbbing with burning pain, and she found she couldn’t speak at first.

Angus eventually rolled the monster over to lie in the snow on his back. The blade of the knife was still lodged between his shoulder blades, and dimly, Cassandra was aware when Angus told her they had to leave the body for the police to see.

“Are you okay, darling?” Angus asked, once she had found her voice and sobbed into her hands. She looked up as her red-hot tears slid down her cheeks, mingling with the snow and blood from her wound. She couldn’t stop crying.

She was both repelled and curious, but there was something she had to do. With one hand outstretched, she leant forward, removed the hat from the murderer’s face, and looked on impassively while Angus gasped. “My God!”

Cassandra sniffed and wiped her bloody face on her sleeve. She knelt by the devil of Inverdarroch, the one who commanded the drumming in the hills. She knew Angus had been wrong all along, as had Susan. This was not her brother. This was not the man who terrorised her older sister, until she fled from home, leaving a younger Cassandra to learn the evils of men and how certain parents never listened. Confused, she raised her head and slowly shook it. “This is not my brother.”

It was strange, but she felt calm and at peace. Images flashed through her head, her childhood, her parents’ behaviour, and her brother Rupert. It all became as clear as if it had happened yesterday. She recalled nothing of Susan as there were no memories to be had.

She also realised the wind was dropping and it was no longer snowing. She could make out the outline of the hills all around them, and she saw daybreak was almost upon them.

Angus was looking shattered and pale when he spoke to her.

“Whatever am I going say? This will surely kill them. He may be mad and a murderer, but he was loved.”

Cassandra was puzzled. “I’ve seen him a few times in the churchyard, sitting on a bench or—” She broke off when a call cut through the air.

“My God, what’s happened?”

Angus twisted round and fended off Elizabeth with one hand. “Don’t look, Elizabeth, it’s too horrible. We were—” He stopped. It was a long and confusing story, and he wanted to keep the more horrific things from her.

Ignoring him, Elizabeth dropped to her knees, oblivious to the cold. “Oh my dear, whatever am I going to say?” Her face looked stricken as she glanced from one to the other.

“It’s him, Elizabeth. This is the man who’s been stalking me. You remember I told you?”

Elizabeth lifted appalled eyes to meet Cassandra’s and shook her head in disbelief. “No, no! It can’t be true.”

“
He
was the one who was frightening me. He tried to kill me with a sword,” Cassandra finished as her voice caught on a sob, her body shuddering.

“A sword? But why? I don’t believe you. I don’t understand…he’s never hurt anyone. You
killed
him?”