Forgive me, but I’ve never spoken with the dead before.”
“Yes. You’ve only conversed with the undead, as I know too well. You’ve been wallowing in doubt and regret for too long. My warning is that you remember we’re always judged by our actions, and not by empty words. Faith must precede actions. Remember when you struck the demons with lightning bolts in St. Paul’s Cathedral?”
“Was that caused by my actions or by my faith?”
Before the spirit or dream could answer, there was a sharp rap at the door, and the voices of the Duke and Duchess of Denham whispering came to him from the hallway. The duke called out, “Is everything all right in there?”
Charlemagne reached out and touched Darius with his sword. A brief surge of power rushed through Darius before the spirit disappeared.
Darius dashed to the door and threw it wide open. “John . . . Amelia, come in, please.” He motioned for them to sit on the brocade couch that stood in the corner of the room. He noticed Amelia staring at his chest with more than casual interest, and he glanced down, only to realize he was just wearing his breeches. Embarrassed, Darius reached for a wide-sleeved shirt. After slipping it on, he took the time to tie his cravat and put on his boots in an effort to appear more presentable.
“Where’s Elizabeth? John asked. “I thought we were taking her to the king’s dinner reception tonight.”
“The psychic vampires have stolen her. I’m going to fetch her back.”
Amelia gripped Darius by the shoulder. “Where have they taken her? How did they get to her? When did they take her?”
He lifted one hand. “Please stay calm, Your Grace. Your husband and I will find her. I can have someone escort you to the king’s reception.”
Amelia widened her china-blue eyes and placed her hands on her hips. “Are you mad? You’re not leaving me behind. I’m going with you.”
“It’s not safe. I suspect they’ve taken her to the ruins of St. Paul’s Cathedral.”
“What makes you think so?” John shook Darius’s arm.
“The other night Elizabeth was there and that’s where she discovered the demons’ abyss. That’s why I don’t think Amelia should come with us.”
“Try and stop me.”
Darius looked pointedly at her formal gown. “You’re hardly dressed appropriately for the ruins.”
“Don’t you have a young footman’s suit of clothing that I can wear?”
John spoke with a kind of exasperated admiration. “You’d do best to find her a suit of clothes rather than waste time arguing with her.”
Darius shrugged and went in search of a footman’s uniform. Once he brought it to her, Amelia went behind the dressing room screen, and in a few short minutes, she stepped out wearing a snug-fitting blue suit, with a flaxen periwig and a tri-cornered hat upon her head, a gold-hilted sword resting on her left hip, and a short cloak tossed across her shoulders. Both men laughed when she strutted across the room in her costume.
Darius grabbed up his sword, as did John, and the three friends left the apartment in search of Elizabeth. Darius prayed they weren’t too late. He couldn’t imagine what his life would be like if anything happened to her. He ignored the tightness in his chest when instructing his coachman, “To St. Paul’s, and be quick about it.” He knew they’d move faster on their own, but using the carriage the way proper humans would drew less attention to them, and right now, that’s what they most needed.
Chapter 4
Inside the fog of the demon cell, Elizabeth remained trapped. She kicked and pounded against the cell until she realized physical strength wasn’t the answer. The invisible shroud surrounding her was beyond this world. It was a world of torture, of abstract evil, of brutalized thought, and of unholy imaginings. Struggling against the cell, she felt it thicken, making her realize her fear controlled her captivity and the greater her fear, the more impenetrable the cell
Learning to Kill: Stories