Black Magic - An Urban Fantasy Colleciton Page 4

  He did not want to feed so openly, so he led Brigid down an alleyway, when an arrow was shot between them. Lucien whirled around to face their attacker. This would not be the first time that he had to defend himself against vampire hunters.

  He pushed Brigid behind him to shield her, but he was not expecting the hunter to address her and not him.

  “Have you gone completely mad? How could you, Brigid?” the man cried.

  “I found the life I truly wanted. I am sorry, George, but you have been wrong about the vampiric life. They are no worse than you for slaughtering cattle for your dinner. We are no worse than you. Now, please, leave us be and go home. With whom did you leave our daughter tonight?”

  “You have the nerve to ask about her?” George hissed. “You left her. You left us! To...to become this. This abomination! I am sorry, Brigid. Truly, I am. I did not want to do this.” He held the crossbow in front of him and, before Lucien could move to cover her again, shot a silver-tipped wooden arrow straight into Brigid’s heart, killing her instantly.

  Lucien felt as if he had been the one shot to the heart, and he launched himself at George, fangs bared and claws extended. Before he could get a bite into the hunter, he shot at him with a raygun, powered by steam. But it was not simply steam: it was steam made from holy water, and it scalded Lucien’s skin, making him scream in pain. By the time he had recovered, a light mist was falling and George was nowhere to be found. He had taken Brigid’s body with him.

  ***

  Daniela was left stunned by the kiss, her face flaming and her hands shaking well into the evening. Romance with an employer was quite obviously a bad idea, but who could blame her for wanting a relationship with Mr. Crosthwaite? He was so handsome, aristocratic, he seemed very intelligent, he was kind, and really just about everything a woman looked for in a man.

  She wondered if he really wanted her; what that kiss meant to him.

  Hating herself for being distracted from her work because of a man, she threw herself into her plans for the airship, staying up well into the night. She sat in the parlour, designing by firelight. That engine was going to be quite tricky and she wanted to get it just right before working on anything else.

  “Burning the midnight oil, eh?” Lucien walked into the room, sitting opposite her on the divan. “You certainly do work hard.”

  She nodded, placing her fountain pen down. “You gave me quite the project,” she said. “I want to be sure it is done right.”

  “I have every faith in you. But you need your rest, love. It is three in the morning, and at the rate you’re going you’ll be up till sunrise.”

  Daniela smiled. “Don’t think you’re going to sweep me off my feet with a few sweet words and one kiss. It’s going to take more than that to woo me, Mr. Crosthwaite.”

  He stood, leaning over her with one arm supporting his weight, and said, “Good. I do enjoy a challenge. Goodnight, Ms. Gable. I will be away tomorrow. I trust you will remember to eat and rest in my absence?” The light in his eyes was playful.

  “I think I can manage.”

  She wondered what he was thinking as he looked at her. She wished she had one tenth of his intuition; his flair for reading people. She would not need to wonder then. He seemed as captivated by her as she was by him, and was not afraid to show it. His openness endeared him to her. No man would wear his heart on his sleeve like Lucien was. It was refreshing and a bit terrifying as well. She had never felt this way before, and she had also never been the object of a man’s attentions.

  He inclined his head, a wave of hair falling across his forehead, and brushed his lips across her cheek, before pressing them softly to her lips. The kisses were as light as air, warming her heart. She had gone into this for the position of steamworker. She had not expected any sort of romantic affair.

  He pulled his lips from hers, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure. His cold hand cupped her face, and moved down to trace her neck. “Goodnight,” he repeated, leaving her stunned and blushing. She couldn’t help the smile on her face, but she did not know that her bliss was going to be so short-lived.

  ***

  While she was working the next afternoon, she heard a commotion outside her workshop. She could hear Barnabas’ indignant, sarcastic voice raised in a bit of a panic, and she actually stopped working to go and see what the problem was. Was Lucien all right?

  She peeked her head out of the door to see the Sergeant from Oakcrest arguing with Barnabas. She almost smiled: Barnabas was like a child compared with the Sergeant, but he was certainly holding his own and not backing down to whatever it was the officer wanted.

  Sergeant Bloom spotted her and shoved the smaller man aside, making Daniela gasp. “You!” How dare you push him? Have you no manners, you brute?” she asked, stepping out of the shop completely.

  He ignored her outburst. “Daniela Gable, you are under arrest for leaving town without taxes paid. I am here to bring you back to Oakcrest until the Mayor decides what to do with you.” He grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around, to take her to the steamcar waiting for them.

  “What? No, are you mad? Unhand me this instant! I have left nothing unpaid: my father took care to ensure of that when he passed!” Daniela tried to get her raygun, but the Sergeant snatched it away from her.

  “Ms. Gable, I’ll get in contact with Lucien tonight. Please, be calm. Just do as he says and we’ll get you back, I promise,” Barnabas said, looking quite disheartened.

  Daniela had never felt so desolate, so angry. As she sat in the back of the steamcar, she wondered how she could get back to London. How could she escape custody? Could Lucien get her out? It was obvious this was false arrest. She did not know why the Mayor was so against her having her own life and leaving Oakcrest. It made no sense. What hold did he think he had on her?

  When they got to Oakcrest, Sergeant Bloom led her into the Mayor’s office and then left, where everything looked like it was in a complete disarray. What on Earth had happened? It appeared as though there had been a scuffle.

  Daniela saw the Mayor’s son standing behind his father’s desk, looking coolly at her. James Manchester had been a potential suitor whom she had turned down many times. She had no interest in him or his mind games. The Mayor’s heir or not, there was no excuse for being cruel, and he was always very callous and cruel.

  “Daniela,” he greeted informally, “please sit down.”

  “I prefer to stand,” she replied. “And I would also prefer if you would tell me what is going on.”

  He touched something on the desk, and she saw a red liquid. Blood. It was blood. Why was there blood on the desk? “You were not brought here for taxes. That was a simple ruse I concocted to tell the Sergeant. He’s not from here, and really can’t be trusted just yet.” He held up the hand so she could see the drying droplets on his fingertips.

  “My father was murdered last night.”

  Daniela felt her mouth drop. “Are you playing a farce? Truly, your father was murdered?”

  “Yes, and it is entirely your fault, not that you have any idea.” James picked up a piece of paper, studying it. “Did your father ever tell you what he hunted? What he was teaching you to use weapons for?”

  What an odd question, she thought. “No, he said it was for protection. That was all. How does that have anything to do with me getting your father killed? I have been in London for days!”

  “Did he ever tell you how your mother died?”

  “An accident in London,” she replied, going quiet.

  James made a tsk sound. “He sheltered you too much. My father always thought so. Sit, Daniela. You need to hear this.” James proceeded to tell her of how her mother had left her family for a new life in London as a vampire.

  “Vampire? The German spectre? Do not make jokes about my mother’s passing. It is not funny!” She felt her face getting hot in anger.


  “Vampires are quite real, and it is how this town makes its ends meet,” James said. “We are, most of us anyway, vampire hunters. We kill the creatures who feed on us like cattle. We purge the world of the unnatural. Your mother left that life to join the enemy. Your father, God rest his soul, had to hunt her down in London.”

  “Hunt?” Daniela felt like she was choking. “You mean he killed her?”

  “He saved her soul,” James disagreed. “The vampire who turned her got away because George wanted to bury his bride, as he rightfully should have. We had never heard from the vampire again, and assumed he had fled London. Not so much, when his retinue was spotted in this very town three days ago, taking you right to him. We feared we had been too late. How glad I am that you are all right.”

  He reached out to pat her arm, and she saw that he still had a bloodstain on the cuff of his sleeve. She yanked her arm away from him. “How could you spin such tales? Lucien is not a monster.”

  James laughed. “Have you ever seen him in daylight? Have you ever seen him eat? Is his skin freezing cold, like that of a corpse?”

  No. No. Yes. Daniela would not--could not--respond. How could this be? This had to be simple jealousy on James’ part. He had always wanted her, and now she had left and was with another man, one far superior to him. The hurt and rejection must have simply caused his mind to descend even deeper into madness.

  “He wanted to take you, Daniela. He wanted to turn you into a monster just like he turned your mother. I am sure you’re confused, but you need to quickly understand: Lucien Crosthwaite is a vampire, and he got your mother killed. He killed my father last night. You need to gather your weapons and help us bring him down. Tonight. Despite never hunting, you are better with a raygun and crossbow than any of us.”

  Her head was spinning, but everything fit. In a strange, preternatural way, it all made sense. That was how Lucien knew so much about her, how he had drawn her in so quickly...but why had he not turned her yet? Why make the ploy of an airship? He could have simply taken what he wanted, so what was the purpose of subterfuge? Something did not add up.

  James sighed, bringing her out of her thoughts. “It looks as if you are in need of rest. I will give you until midnight, and by then we will go after him even if you do not join us.”

  Because Lucien knew where she lived, they installed her at the inn, in a comfortable room facing the lake. She could not rest; how could she be expected to rest? Her entire life had just been turned upside down. Her mother...her father...Lucien. It was all too much. She slumped to her bed and allowed herself to cry. How had things gotten so complicated so quickly?

  She cried for so long, she fell asleep without realizing it. She was woken by a tapping at her curtained window. She went to see what it was and saw Lucien outside of it! A third-floor window! She looked and saw that he was clinging to the wall using his nails.

  “Daniela, please--let me in,” he said through the glass.

  She refused to meet his eyes. When she had been a child, her father had told her scary stories about vampires, though he made her believe that they were fictional. He had said they could hypnotise you if you looked into their eyes.

  “Daniela, I know what they’ve told you, but I also know what they haven’t: I did not kill your Mayor! Please, let me explain. You have weapons so I cannot hurt you without risking my own death. I just want to talk.”

  Despite her better judgement, she opened the window and he neatly climbed inside the room. She spotted a small steamcar parked in the high grass near the lake. He was about to speak when she did something even she did not know was coming: she slapped him.

  “You turned my mother! How could you?”

  He chuckled. “Still so fiery, even in the face of a purported monster. Daniela, your mother and I met while she was on holiday in London. I did not turn her on my own: she asked me to be turned. I made her realise that vampires are not monsters. I do not kill humans, nor do many other vampires. We feed from donors. That is why I employ Barnabas. He supplies me with blood, I supply him with a home, a position, and freedom.”

  He began to pace back and forth, his black coat trailing out behind him. “I am hunted and have been for seven centuries. I have lived in London for eighty years, and I like it. I like your inventions, your people, and even the smoggy steam in the air. I do not wish to be run out like a bandit.”

  “Let us say that my mother did ask you to turn her,” Daniela said. “It’s plausible. That does not explain why you killed the Mayor.”

  Lucien sighed in exasperation. “Devil take me, you do not listen well! I never touched your Mayor Manchester. How could I, when I was with you past three in the morning? Contrary to popular propaganda, we cannot turn into bats or fly. So tell me how I managed to get from London to here and back before the sun rose?”

  She paused. That was right! The time was too close to sunrise for Lucien to have travelled to Oakcrest, killed a man, and got back to London in time to be in his coffin. It wasn’t possible. James had not known that she had been up with Lucien the previous evening, so he thought his tale was believable.

  She slumped onto the mattress, more confused than ever. “Who killed the Mayor?”

  “Well, I can’t say for certain, but all signs point to the son, James,” Lucien said. “I was in the office just now, doing a bit of an informal investigation. The blood there is on the desk in such a way that the killer had to have been standing or sitting in front of the desk, meaning the Mayor knew his killer. As late at night as the murder must have been, who else would have been there but family?” He stood in front of her and held a pale hand out. “Come with me, Daniela. Please. It is dangerous for you to be here with him. He has displayed psychotic behaviour before, on holidays in London. I have seen him with my own eyes. Come with me, and I will protect you.”

  She shook her head, still unable to process all the information she had been given that day. “Why did you contact me?” she asked. “Because of my mother?”

  Lucien shook his head this time. “No. I had no idea you were a part of the same Gable family. It is quite the common name. When I did realise it, it was too late.”

  “Too late for what?”

  He cupped her chin in his hand. “I had already fallen for you.”

  “So, why did you contact me?” she asked.

  “Because I wanted an airship! I needed someone who could make a sophisticated one as well, because I need total darkness, and a place for my coffin. Do you know how hard it is to get a designer who can do what you do?” He turned towards the door. “Daniela, we have to hurry: he is coming.”

  She was immobile.

  “Daniela! I know I was not imagining that spark between us. I know you felt something for me. You need to trust me. He has been trying to feed lies about me into your mind, but he is the monster, not I.”

  Before she could answer, the door to her room flew open. James was standing there with a raygun brandished and a crossbow strapped to his back. Unlike she expected, there was no lengthy confrontation, with insults spit by both parties. There were no taunts, no challenges. Just violence. And James made the first move, firing the raygun at Lucien, who dodged the blast.

  Lucien took out his own weapon and fired it, hitting James in the shoulder. “People like you Manchester, you only understand violence and death. Reason is beyond you. Murder makes more sense than negotiation. You call me a monster, yet you have killed more people than I. Deplorable.”

  James laughed. “You call me a monster, when you feed off our blood? You’re unnatural, and you deserve to die!”

  He shot again, and the holy water-steam hit Lucien, burning a hole in his knee. He fell to the floor, unable to stand.

  “Daniela, now! Kill him!” James ordered. When she was still, he shrilly said, “Are you suddenly hard of hearing? Kill him now!”

  She stood up, her raygun in her hand
. “Lucien was awake and in his manor with me until half past three in the morning. He could not have killed your father. And my mother had as much free will to go with him as I do now. You and my father--you are the murderers.” Suddenly, something she had seen that afternoon clicked in her mind. “That blood on your hand earlier, it wasn’t all from the table. How could it have been? It was too dry on your skin and your sleeve, meaning it had been there for quite some time. And the wetness of the blood on the desk’s surface meant the murder had to have taken place during the daytime, not the wee hours of the morning. It would have been completely dried by then. You killed your own father! Now, you are going to let Lucien and I go, or I will shoot you.”

  James stared at her. “I cannot believe he got in your head, Daniela! I would never lie to you.”

  “Yes, you would,” she said. “You would, because you only care about yourself. You have no true emotions. What you feel for me is not love, just a depraved want, basic and without any light. You are, in a word, inhuman.”

  “I’ll kill you, too, if you provoke me,” James warned.

  “You shall not touch her!” Lucien said, steadying himself against the wall. His knee was pumping blood at a steady rate, the holy water preventing the wound from closing.

  James shot at him again, but the holy water would not break the barrier of his clothing. He shot a fourth time, hitting Lucien on the side of his face. The vampire let out an unnatural hiss, and Daniela could see his fangs as he grimaced in pain. He lost his footing, falling to the floor once again.

  James laughed, sounding quite mad indeed. “It’s about time London was rid of you, Crosthwaite.” He swung his crossbow around, the gears gleaming in the moonlight. The silver-tipped wooden arrow shone like a diamond, and he seemed positively gleeful at the prospect of murder. No one should be that happy to end a life, natural or unnatural.

  Daniela was weak from lack of sleep and fear, but she would not let this man kill Lucien. He was a murderer, misogynist, liar, and obviously mad. Yet, somehow, the entire town believed him when he laid all the blame on Lucien. How could that be possible?