Page 35 of Secrets of the Highwayman (Immortal Warriors #2)

“ I don’t understand ,” Eddie wailed for the dozenth time.

“And I don’t have time to explain,” Nathaniel retorted. After he and Teth untangled themselves from the drawers full of cutlery that Pengorren had thrown at them, they’d come across Eddie outside the door, struggling to get to his feet. There was no sign of Melanie. Eddie said that Pengorren—or Trewartha, as he knew him—had gone after her up the stairs, and there’d been a lot of noise.

“I blacked out for a minute, but I’m sure I heard them up there. Maybe she used the back stairs?”

Nathaniel moved forward and then tripped on something and nearly fell. He bent and picked it up. “What’s this?” he demanded.

“Oh. I brought a flashlight from the car.” Eddie took it from him and switched it on. The light shone directly into Nathaniel’s face. “Sorry,” he said, directing it elsewhere.

Teth growled low in his throat and showed his teeth.

“Nice dog,” Eddie murmured.

“We need to find Melanie. If she’s heading down the servants’ stairs, then we can get to her more quickly by going around through the side garden.”

Eddie followed him back into the kitchen. “Who . . . what is that man?”

“Trewartha. Pengorren. Whichever you like. He’s one and the same.”

“Is he really a vampire?”

Nathaniel opened the door to the garden. “A what?”

“Does he suck the blood out of people so that he can live?”

“He sucks the life from them, but he prefers those with his blood. Pengorren blood. Like you, Eddie, and Suzie and Melanie. Especially Melanie.”

“I’m dreaming this, aren’t I?” Eddie asked plaintively.

“Yes, Edward, this is all a dream. Now, come on!”

Nathaniel burst forth into the night, with Teth at his heels.

T hat terrible cloying sense of evil was everywhere, suffocating her, incapacitating her. She wished now she hadn’t hidden in here. Another mistake. The feeling of being trapped, with nowhere to run, was worse than if she’d kept her options open.

And then the lid was flung open.

“Oh Melanie, Melanie,” that hateful voice said, “did you really think I couldn’t find you? I’d know your essence anywhere.”

She pushed herself up, meaning to hit him in the face, but he caught her around the back of the neck with a grip that was excruciatingly painful, his fingers squeezing.

“It’s all over,” he murmured, helping her out of the box. “Accept it.”

“Let me go.” She could hardly speak, and the agony made it hard to breathe.

“Just think, with your help I can live for another hundred years!”

“I’d rather you’d died at birth.”

He laughed, and then she felt him focusing on her strength, beginning to drain it from her like sucking a milk shake from a straw. He was going to kill her this time. Her head was already spinning.

“It’s such a pity we can’t both live,” he murmured.

And she thought: Well, why not? Not him, of course, but me. Why couldn’t she live instead of him? If Pengorren could do this to her, why couldn’t she do the same to him? He kept telling her how powerful she was, how much like him she was . . .

His draining of her made it difficult to concentrate. She kept drifting away. If it went on like this much longer, she wouldn’t even remember her name. Instinctively she struggled in his grip, and then slumped down, distracting him, causing him to rearrange his hold on her. The feeling of being drained halted, just for a moment, just long enough. Melanie focused all her remaining strength on Pengorren and imagined taking back her soul from him.

“Stop it,” he hissed, giving her a shake. “I know what you’re trying to do, Melanie. You can’t win, I’m too strong for you. You’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

He might be right, but there was no way she was dying without putting up a fight. Melanie fixed her mind on him, picturing herself delving deep inside him, reaching into his pulsing living force and drawing it out, like a long, thin ribbon of light. She began to wind it around her own body, until she glowed with the beauty of it. The light was so bright it hurt her eyes, but she continued to draw it out of him and wind it around herself.

She was like a burning comet illuminating the night sky . . .

She didn’t notice Pengorren letting her go, not until he staggered and fell against the wooden box. Surprised, she turned to look at him. He was breathing strangely, harsh and chesty, like an old man. And then, as he lifted his head, she saw to her amazement that he was an old man.

She laughed, she couldn’t help it.

“Melanie?”

Nathaniel was stooping beneath the low attic doorway, watching her anxiously from behind the glow of a flashlight. His gaze dropped to Pengorren and his eyes widened. “How . . . ?”

“The same way he does it. I can’t believe I didn’t try it before.”

“Perhaps you weren’t strong enough before,” Nathaniel suggested, coming forward. He was holding a cutlass in his other hand, and he gave it to Melanie before leaning over Pengorren to examine him. Pengorren was too weak to do more than shrug off his hand. “Is he still dangerous? Can he regain his strength?”

“Not unless I let him,” Melanie said arrogantly.

Nathaniel gave her a sharp look, and a crease appeared between his brows. The dismayed expression in his eyes caught her unawares, and suddenly she was ashamed. She sounded like him.

“I have the locket,” Nathaniel said, reaching into his pocket. He flicked open the casing with his thumbnail and went still as he saw the miniature of Pengorren.

“Your sister painted that,” Pengorren whispered, and gave a hideous, rotten-toothed smile. “Not long before they took her away to the madhouse.”

“You evil bastard.” Nathaniel lifted his hand as if to strike him, and then changed his mind. “I don’t care what you say. I’m going to change all that. No one will even know your name when I’m finished.”

“Is that so?” Pengorren taunted. “Haven’t you forgotten something? If I no longer exist, then what happens to my descendants?” He laughed at the expressions on their faces, and then he began to cough.

“He’s right,” Melanie said. “If you take him out of history, then I won’t be here, and neither will Suzie, or Eddie.” She looked about. “Where is Eddie?”

“Gone to switch the lights back on.”

“Nathaniel, I need to find Suzie.”

He nodded, then gave Pengorren a nudge. He stopped coughing and glanced up, his eyes dull but still that same malevolent blue. “Come on, Hew. We’re taking you for a little trip.”

Pengorren struggled weakly and complained, and in the end Nathaniel picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. Melanie took the locket from him. By the time they reached the front door, Eddie had brought the Aston Martin around and parked it in the driveway.

“Where am I going?” Pengorren roared, as Nathaniel set him down.

Nathaniel ignored him. “Eddie, can you watch our friend here?”

Melanie was already at the passenger door, leaning over her sister. Suzie’s face was white and drawn, but her eyes opened when Melanie brushed her cheek, and she managed a crooked smile.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“What have you got to be sorry about?” Melanie said gently, and her eyes filled with tears. “This is my doing. I thought you were dead . . . Can you ever forgive me?”

Suzie looked surprised. “’Course I can,” she retorted, with surprising vigor. “And it would take more than that to kill me.”

“I’m so glad . . .”

Nathaniel leaned in, ignoring the zing as Melanie’s shoulder brushed his. “Is she all right?”

“Yes, I think so.” Melanie wiped her cheeks. “He must have been saving her for later, like he did with Miss Pengorren.”

“For supper,” Suzie murmured, and grimaced.

“We need to get you out of here,” Nathaniel explained. “Pengorren is going on a little trip to St. Anne’s Hill.”

Melanie glanced at him sharply, but he didn’t meet her eyes. As she stepped away, he was already easing Suzie from the car. Her sister held out her hand, and Melanie took it, glad to feel the warmth of her flesh.

“I don’t know,” Suzie whispered, “if I’ll see you again. I want you to make the choice that makes you most happy. And don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right. I think I’ve met my soul mate.”

“Suzie!”

“Good-bye, Melanie. Enjoy your life. I’m going to. Now be quiet and let me make the most of being held in the arms of this gorgeous Regency man.”

Nathaniel laughed, and carried her up the steps of Ravenswood. By the time he returned, Eddie was half-supporting and half-forcing Pengorren into the backseat.

“She’s all right,” he assured them. “Just needs to sleep and get her strength back. Pengorren’s inheritance can be a blessing as well as a curse.” As he spoke he reached for the locket dangling out of Melanie’s pocket. It was still open, and using his nail again, he lifted the miniature. Underneath there was a shining metal disc, just like the one Melanie had been shown by the queen in her vision.

“The key.”

He nodded and stroked the strange swirling shapes that formed the pattern of the key. “Something like this is very dangerous in the wrong hands,” he said softly. “Very tempting.”

Melanie laughed, thinking he was joking, but his expression was deadly serious. Did he really think she was turning into Pengorren? She supposed she couldn’t blame him, after all that had happened, but still it hurt. Swallowing her emotions, she shook her head and looked him in the eyes. “No, it’s not tempting to me. I’m going to give the key back to the queen and . . .” But she couldn’t finish the sentence. He was so stern and uncaring that suddenly she didn’t dare.

He cocked an eyebrow. “And?”

“Melanie . . . ?” Eddie’s voice was faint.

Melanie shrugged. “And you can take care of it until then,” she said, and went to walk away. But he stopped her, gripping her hand in his, ignoring the painful shock.

“You hold on to it,” he said, tucking it back into her pocket.

She didn’t know what to make of that, so she walked over to the car and Eddie. Pengorren was slumped in the backseat. Eddie gave her a sickly smile and passed the keys over to her. Impulsively, she gave him a hug, then climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“Where are we going?”

“St. Anne’s Hill,” Nathaniel said as he climbed in beside her and closed the door.

“What? This is my employer’s car!”

“Well, can you think of a better way to get Pengorren into the between-worlds?”

Melanie thought a moment, and then sighed. “No, I can’t,” she admitted, as she eased the car forward. A glance in the mirror showed Eddie, seated on the steps of the house, his head in his hands. Poor Eddie, it had clearly been too much for him.

Nathaniel was directing her to the stock gate, and he climbed out to open it. Once through and into open field, they found the ground hard going. Every time the car struck a dip or a mound, Melanie winced. Mr. Foyle was never going to forgive her. She should care more about that, but she didn’t.

“I can’t drive up there,” she said, when they reached the base of the hill. “He’ll have to walk.”

I t was easier said than done. Pengorren seemed in no state to do more than hang limply from Nathaniel’s shoulder, and the slope was steep and slippery. With Melanie’s help, and after several falls, they got Pengorren to the top.

Now Raven felt utterly spent, and lay down on his back on the ground, breathing in the cold night air. When he opened his eyes, there were stars wheeling above him. The change he’d seen in Melanie worried him; he couldn’t pretend it didn’t.

Pengorren’s voice rose querulously. “You have no right to do this to me.”

Melanie said something about shutting up or else.

Nathaniel smiled. Then again, only Melanie would talk to an immortal creature like that.

“Nathaniel!”

He jumped up, reacting to the panic in her voice. Pengorren was holding her, his arm around her neck as he dragged her backward toward the downward slope of the hill.

“Let her go.”

“He’s strong,” Melanie told him, gasping as Pengorren’s arm tightened about her throat. “He stole from Eddie . . . I should have seen . . .”

Nathaniel came at him, but Pengorren had let go, flinging Melanie away from him. She lost her balance, slipping on the slope.

“The key!” she screamed.

Pengorren had it. Nathaniel went for him, catching him in a tackle as he tried to run. They fought, desperation giving Pengorren renewed vigor. Nathaniel swung his fist and knocked him backward. His head jerked under the impact, there was a crack as knuckles collided with jaw, and then he sank into a heap by the standing stone.

“That’s for Sophie,” Nathaniel said, panting, and glanced over at Melanie. She was already on her feet, unhurt, so he turned back to Pengorren and hoisted him up by the front of his clothing. The locket had fallen onto the ground, and he reached down for it and tossed it back to her.

Pengorren muttered something, but he ignored him and began to slide him through the hole in the stone. Halfway through he woke up and gave a shriek like a banshee. He clawed for something to hold fast to, grasping Nathaniel’s hands, and then he was slipping.

“Noooo!”

He was falling, back into the echoing darkness, and he was taking Nathaniel with him. Nathaniel fought for his footing, but it was too late. They were both being swallowed up. Tumbling through the door.

Into the between-worlds.

M elanie stood on shaky legs . The cold grey standing stone looked faintly luminous in the starlight. Nathaniel was gone. Pengorren had pulled him into the between-worlds.

She squeezed her hand, feeling the hard shape of the locket. At least she still had the key.

She approached the stone. Was she going to follow him? What if he didn’t return, and she never saw him again?

Melanie knew she couldn’t bear that.

Whatever problems lay between them were miniscule compared to the emptiness in her heart without him. She realized then that she’d already made her decision.