Belmary House 6 Page 17

  With every terrified word, she backed away from them. She opened her mouth to babble some more, thinking it might confuse him until she could get to the door, perhaps find something heavy enough to bash his big head in or merely run like hell.

  “Enough!” Milo slammed the tray to the floor. The cup and jam jar shattered and the pitcher rolled away, spilling tea in small rivulets. The bread bounced almost comically before landing in the puddle of tea.

  “Sir, I put all the— everything we had in there,” Bergen said.

  Relief almost overwhelmed her. She had a chance if all their poison was gone. She could still try and reason with them or fight if she had to. Run if she could keep easing her way to the door.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Milo reached into the back of his waistcoat and pulled out a gun. “If we can’t do it the easy way, we’ll do it the hard way. But it gets done.”

  Ariana felt an intense longing to see her mother again as she watched the bread soak up the poisoned tea. She dragged her gaze away from what she thought might be her salvation, right into the barrel of Milo’s gun.

  Chapter 18

  Owen felt wind gusting past him, heard the crashing of horses’ hooves. And then he fell to his knees in a courtyard, staring up at a huge house. It was grand, but worn down looking. Why was he here? How had he gotten here in the first place. A hand wrenched him to his feet.

  “Hurry, hurry, hurry,” Maria said, her eyes glazed and shoulders trembling. “There are wards, they’re strong. But I think I can break them.”

  Something was wrong with Maria. More wrong. She looked like she could barely stand as she pointed shakily at a door. It all came rushing back to him. Ariana was gone, in terrible danger. Maria must have done something to get him to where she was, and it was affecting her badly.

  Whoever or whatever was in her wasn’t strong enough to take care of Maria and break whatever wards she was talking about. She’d done enough. He had to do whatever needed to be done now. Before he could tell her to stop, she shoved him ruthlessly toward the door. He felt like he flew through the air as it loomed closer and closer, about to hit him square in the face. He thrust out his hands to shove the door open, banging against it. Stupid, stupid. He turned the handle and flung it open, throwing himself through it with exceptional force. It had to be Maria, still pushing him, though she was now far behind him, still in the courtyard.

  What he saw made him forget his worry for Maria. Time seemed to slow. A bald man held a gun mere inches from Ariana’s face. This must be the man who took her away against her will, drugged her or put her under some foul spell. A big farmhand type stood looming just behind him, but Owen barely gave him any thought. Owen hated the bald man on sight, and he felt his all consuming antipathy for the man was deeper than his current wrongs against Ariana. It was as if Owen had a lifetime of anger built up against him. He’d never seen Ariana look so broken and scared and he roared with rage. The bald man turned to him with a sneer, still holding the gun on his best and oldest friend.

  The sneer melted away however, replaced with what Owen could only describe as abject terror. He risked a glance behind him, expecting Maria to be in the doorway surrounded by flames or something equally hideous. But it was only him standing there that the man seemed so afraid of. Owen stood taller and held out his hand, hoping beyond hope one of his accidental spells flew out, the nastier the better. Nothing happened but still the man shook his head as if he’d seen a ghost and cowered back a step.

  “No, no, no,” he pleaded as if Owen had the gun. “Not you, not you again.”

  In that split second his gun faltered and Ariana lunged under it, grabbing onto his waist and knocking him to the ground.

  “Bloody hell, yes, that’s my Riri,” he hollered. No longer scared and trembling, but a ferocious warrior.

  The words had barely left his mouth when the big farmer lout smashed his fist into his face, knocking him backwards. The farmhand swirled around almost gracefully on his tree trunk legs and snatched up Ariana by her hair, pulling her off the bald man. She managed to kick out and send the gun skittering across the floor, landing near a pile of soggy bread.

  From his position on the floor, Owen saw Maria drag herself into the doorway. She clung to the frame and nodded at him. She was too weak to talk but he didn’t need her to say the words. She’d removed the wards. The bald man knew it, too. He screamed as he tried to crawl away.

  “Please no, please no. It was all a mistake. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He didn’t seem to care at all about the gun anymore, just tried to get away as he sobbed and begged.

  Owen reached around for Maria, to pull her into the house and finish this. She shoved him and collapsed to the ground, rolling away outside. Ariana gasped and lunged to help her, but the farmhand grabbed her by the back of her gown and tossed her into the wall like a ragdoll.

  “What’s the matter with you?” the farmhand asked the bald man. “Get up and fight. Can’t you feel the wards are gone?” He sent a weak jolt of something at Owen.

  It wasn’t much, a tiny sizzle as if he’d been brushed with something hot. But seeing Ariana crash into the wall, not knowing if Maria was beyond repair outside the door, seeing that wicked, hateful bald man continue to blubber and scrabble away like a rat, made Owen’s mind go blank.

  He felt nothing for a moment. It was as if he floated on the lake at his house, not a care in the world. The room seemed to shift, causing him to roll onto his side where he lay. He heard a scream. Not the bald man this time. Ariana.

  He shook himself and sat up. Both the bald man and his mountainous lackey lay motionless on the floor. Ariana pulled herself to her knees and looked around. The men stayed still.

  “What did you do?” she asked, stunned.

  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. He still had that calm, floating feeling. “Did you see anything?”

  She shook her head and crawled over to the farmhand. “You made some sounds. There was a cracking noise, like a tree about to fall over. Then… I don’t know.” She prodded the big oaf and then hurried over to the bald man. “They’re dead.” She looked as blank as he felt.

  “Good,” he said. In his heart, he knew they needed to be. Especially the one.

  She scooted over to sit beside him on the floor, took his hand, and started to cry.

  ***

  Owen pulled her close and patted her back. He felt himself slowly coming back to reality. The strange calming feeling drifted away like the clouds he might have been looking at if he really had been floating on his lake back home. He forced himself to look at the men lying on the other side of the room. Men he’d killed, though he didn’t know how. No horror or revulsion overtook him. Just a deep sense that what he’d done was right, as deep as the hatred he’d felt when he first clapped eyes on the bald man.

  “Did he act like he knew me?” he asked Ariana. She was winding down to a few sniffles every few seconds, no more wracking sobs.

  She gulped and nodded, looking up at him curiously. “Yes. Not only like he knew you but he was scared to death of you.”

  “Maybe he could see the future as well as travel to it,” Owen said a little too smugly. She elbowed him and he defended himself against her unspoken recrimination. “They were going to kill you.”

  “But they didn’t.” Her voice quavered and she sniffed.

  “Because I stopped them!” He meant to say more but pressed his lips shut. He didn’t want to have a silly argument over something so serious. “You’re right. I’m not proud. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, Owen, you don’t have to be sorry.” She started to cry again in earnest, staring at the two bodies. “I’m sorry for being so…” she trailed off and he laughed mirthlessly. Everything had changed but they were still acting the same. Right or wrong, it was comforting.

  He turned her away from the two men, toward the open door. They both seemed to remember Maria at the same time.

  “God, Maria,” Ariana squeaked. He jumped to his
feet and hurled himself out the door.

  She lay curled up under an overgrown shrub, fast asleep and snoring softly.

  “I’ve never once seen her sleep since she met me at the village,” he said, moving a clump of tangled hair off her cheek. “She exhausted herself finding you and getting us here, and then getting rid of that blackguard’s wards.”

  “How did she find me? How did you get here?”

  They both looked around but saw no evidence they’d come on horseback, although he had a faint memory of the sound of horses’ hooves.

  He shrugged. “As for how we got here, I have no idea.” He took her elbow and led her further away from the sleeping Maria. He stopped at a cracked wooden bench and sat down. He could have stood a nap as well. When Ariana sat next to him and he felt confident that Maria was truly asleep, he continued. “But the way she found you…” he shivered. “Do you remember all those years ago when we first tried to go through time?”

  “How could I forget?”

  She had nearly died, the spell had made her so sick. It was also the first time he’d called on the others. Whether he meant to or not, they’d heard. And had apparently been listening ever since.

  “I think she’s one of them,” he whispered. Ariana gasped so hard she hiccuped, but didn’t bother blushing or excusing herself. She also didn’t bother pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about. She only stared at him. “She said I called her. Like how I called them when I was so scared you might die trying to get back to our own time.”

  You called… them… for help,” she said after a long silence. “When you botched the memory spell. She’s one of them. Or, there’s one of them in Maria.”

  “I think so. That’s how she found you. She asked the others.”

  Their noses were so close together during their whispered conversation that they didn’t notice Maria until they saw her feet standing right before them. Ariana jumped but quickly composed herself with her hand on her heart.

  “You shouldn’t have let me sleep,” she said, pouting. Owen shook his head, recalling a time when he thought that pout was amongst the most charming things on earth.

  “You were barely out for five minutes,” he shot back. “Human bodies need sleep.” He could tell Ariana was appalled at the way he spoke to her, but she hadn’t been traveling with her for as long as he had.

  “I didn’t want to sleep, though.” She sounded like a whiny, overtired child.

  “You’re awake now, aren’t you?” Owen said. “But I’m shot. I want to sit here for at least a few more minutes.”

  Maria narrowed her eyes at them each in turn. “You’re welcome, by the way,” she said before flouncing off.

  “Is that the real Maria?” asked Ariana. “She’s acting a little more like herself.”

  “Bother that. The real Maria was never such a pain in the arse. And I mean it, I’m worn to the bone. If I try to stand, you’ll both be dragging me wherever we go from here. Let her explore for a while. She likes to do that.”

  Ariana opened her mouth to argue, but sure enough, Maria made a beeline for a shed at the far end of the property, leaning over to inspect the ground here and there.

  “I’m tired too,” Ariana admitted, leaning back against the bench. “This was why our parents lied to us from the beginning,” she said after a long silence. The tremor in her voice made him think she was on the verge of tears again.

  “You getting this house?” he asked. “Meeting up with other witches?”

  “No, they knew someone was going to try and kill me. My cousin Dexter told me about it.” She wearily told him how she’d managed to go a mind boggling distance into the future. Apparently her mum had run away before she and her father were married and had ended up in a future in which Ariana was already born, grown up, and then been murdered.

  He shuddered to think of such a future. The horror that he might have been only a few minutes later and it could have come true made him grab her hand and hold on tight.

  “That must be the bad thing she was afraid would happen to you.”

  She squeezed his hand back and then wriggled free of his grip. “I never let myself think about that. I thought I was so clever and strong that it couldn’t possibly happen.” She gulped several times like she might be ill and stood up abruptly, pulling her hand from his.

  He felt awash with sorrow and reached for her hand again. Whatever calm assurance that he’d done the right thing in killing those men slipped away as quickly as Ariana had stood. Was that why she was looking at him that way now? She was pale with a hint of green and still gasped in short, labored breaths.

  She hurried away from him, shaking her head. “I- I need to be alone for a bit. Please, let me be.” He saw tears streaming down her cheeks again and her shoulders shook as she hurried away.

  There it was. It had finally sunk in what he did and she couldn’t bear to be near him. As he watched her hide herself away around the corner of the house, he felt utterly bereft. Would she always look at him and see the monster that lurked deep inside? That bald man had seen it as soon as he’d laid eyes on him. He made a supreme effort not to claw at his skin as he tried to reassure himself that the men had been trying to kill Ariana. Apparently they’d succeeded in another time. That line of thought only made his head spin and he concentrated on what he knew to be true. The man was holding a gun on Ariana. If Maria hadn’t taken the wards off the place, not only Ariana but he and Maria would all have bullets in them by now. It was cold comfort but the only comfort he had right now. Two of the most important people in his life had fled from him.

  He shook himself out of his self pity, clinging to the fact that Ariana was alive and that was more important than him feeling guilty for the rest of his days. Maria hadn’t fled from him, she was as bad or worse than him. She was only being odd and annoying as usual. And that was something he could concentrate on other than the fact that he was a killer. Maria still had to be fixed.

  As if summoned by his thoughts of her, she came racing from the shed at the back of the property. She was in front of him in moments, using that disconcerting, preternatural speed she was capable of.

  “Ariana!” she yelled.

  Ariana poked her head around the corner of the house. She must have been huddling just out of sight. She joined them but kept her head down, refusing to look either one in the eye.

  “Come with me,” Maria urged them. “You’ll want to see this.”

  Chapter 19

  Ariana thought Maria looked a mix of disgusted and excited, if she could be said to have any real emotions shining through that odd glow in her eyes. Owen couldn’t know for sure that one of the mysterious others that she’d been wary of since they first found the family grimoire was inhabiting Maria. If that was the case, what had become of her?

  She barely had a moment to worry about it because Maria turned on her heel and moved almost as swiftly as she’d approached, back toward the shed. Ariana was still shaken from nearly meeting her demise and heartbroken that she’d been betrayed. She felt stupid and embarrased about being so thoroughly fooled as well. She had wanted to confess everything to Owen when she admitted the reason they’d been lied to all along was because of her being so universally despised and murderable. But she felt too pathetic, too unsure. After seeing the hatred in Milo’s eyes for reasons she’d never understand, she couldn’t bear the thought of seeing that emotion in Owen’s for reasons she could.

  He adored Maria and she’d ruined that. Maybe. Maybe not. If they could fix her, Ariana vowed to try her hardest to get Maria to forgive her and then work on repairing the idiotic engagement between her and Owen. And she had to stop thinking of it as idiotic. If Owen wanted Maria and she was who made him happy, Ariana knew she had to accept it, no matter what a bitter pill it was to swallow.

  “Be prepared for what you’re about to see,” Maria said when they arrived at the shed.

  If this little ramshackle building was there in her future time, Ariana had
never been out to it.

  “Should we be armed with something?” Owen asked, pushing the both of them behind him and squaring off toward the rickety door like it was the threat.

  Maria looked disappointed and shrugged sheepishly. “Well, no.”

  “If you’re playing games after everything we’ve been through, Maria…”

  “Goodness. You two bicker more than my little brothers,” Ariana said, pushing past Owen and nudging open the door. It scraped across the packed earth floor and was too dark inside to properly see anything. Nothing jumped out at her so she shoved it all the way open to get more light. “Oh my God, why didn’t you help him?” she shrieked at Maria as she hurried forward.

  Nick lay in the corner, trussed like a pig about to be put on a spit, covered in bruises and cuts. She knelt at his side and gently touched his shoulder, relieved to feel he was still warm. His eyes fluttered and before he recognized her he fearfully tried to scrabble away. He had nowhere to go in the small room and tears leaked out of his eyes.

  “Ariana, thank goodness you found me. I thought they’d kill me for sure.”

  “What happened?” she asked. She was upside down in her mind on who to trust. Dexter had seemed sure it was Nick who had killed her in that other time. He’d gone by a different name. “Who is Sir Amos?”

  He struggled to sit up and she helped him to lean against the wall, but didn’t move to remove his bonds until he gave her some answers. He shook his head, blood and spittle flying in every direction. If he was in such bad condition, could he really be a part of Milo’s plot? She started to waver in her resolve and helped him move his legs to get more comfortable.

  “I don’t know who that is. Some of the people at the coven called me that but they were confused. Everything was so confusing, like we were living two different lives at the same time.” Blood oozed out of his nose and he tried to wipe it on his shoulder.